Learning from the Labyrinth - There's No Right Way

Every time I lead a labyrinth walk, I always begin by saying, "There's no right way to walk the labyrinth.  There's no wrong way to walk the labyrinth.  There is only the way that you walk it today."  I say this as much to remind myself as to instruct others.  For years I didn't "get" the point of walking a labyrinth.  It was pleasant enough, but I was sure I wasn't doing it the right way. That's been true with many a spiritual practice for me.  If I don't have a powerful, tangible experience of God - and by that I mean healing occurs or a vision or an inner voice or a spiritual euphoria - then I must be doing it wrong.  Because other people have those powerful experiences and I don't.  They're right and I am wrong.  Even now, after years of walking the labyrinth and finding it to be a transforming, though often subtle practice, I still fall into the trap of thinking that if a particular walk doesn't yield definable fruit, then I haven't done it quite right.

The other day Jan Brown and I were talking about labyrinths with some other folks.  We discussed how the subtle ways of labyrinths and how they often speak through symbol and metaphor.  Everything that happens on the labyrinth can be useful.  Jan mentioned that some people can't wait to get to the center and get frustrated when the path goes near the center and then turns away.  Someone else mentioned that she didn't think she'd ever get to the center so she just gave up.  Jan asked, "And how do you see that playing out in your life?"

I've heard her ask that question many times before - I even ask that question when I'm facilitating walks.  This time, as I pondered it, I had an epiphany.  When I walk the labyrinth I'm rarely frustrated by the twisting and turning of the path. I don't worry about how long it takes to get to the center; I'm happy to be on the path. My downfall is thinking about what's supposed to be happening. Am I getting the insights I'd hoped for?  Am I listening well enough?  Did I choose the right intention or ask the right question?  Am I paying close enough attention to my breathing?  In other words, am I doing it right?  I know that when I let go and am open to the process and the walk, sometimes insights do come.  Or I'm more aware of what God is doing in creation.  Or I sink into myself more deeply and become clear on some matter simply because I'm not worrying about external factors.  I can hear my inner wisdom and sometimes I'm pretty sure I hear God.  If those things are not happening, then I'm not doing it right. Right?

How do I see that playing out in my life?  Oh, the stories I could tell.  I'm convinced that if I do everything right, then all the outcomes will be what I desire.  And when things don't turn out the way I'd hoped, then I must have done something wrong.  It can be paralyzing when trying to make decisions.  It's not like there's some clear, objective way to know how things will turn out or even if the way they turn out is the right way.  

In the past couple of weeks I've returned to a practice that I have a love/hate relationship with:  centering prayer.  As often as I've tried centering prayer and meditation, I've never been able to get it to work for me.  I'm frustrated by my clamoring thoughts and end the time feeling discouraged that I haven't found the peace that other people experience from these practices.  I've been convinced that I'm not doing it the right way, even though I know THERE IS NO RIGHT WAY.  This time, though, it's working.  I don't know how.  I don't know why.  Maybe it's finally the right time.  (But there is no right time, right? There's only now.) Maybe God has called me to it.  Maybe I'm just in a different place or I have different expectations.  What I know is that I'm showing up, consenting to God's presence in my life, returning to my sacred word when I notice my thoughts, and then going on my way when the time is up.  This time I do feel calmer in my daily life.  I do feel happier.  I'm able to laugh more at all the challenges arising around me.  I'm able to handle my stress better - just as they say will happen when we engage such practices.  

There is no right way.  There is no wrong way.  There is only the way I engage the practice today.  Tomorrow it may be different.  For today, I am grateful.

Patrick's Rune

Madeleine L'Engle's A Swiftly Tilting Planet has come to mind often in the past few days.  I'm sure I'm not the only one having that experience.  It's been awhile since I've read the Wrinkle in Time books, but I've pulled number three off the shelf because I feel compelled to read it again.  Something about madmen and nuclear weapons.

I'm grateful to Madeleine L'Engle for many things, one of which is introducing me to Patrick's Rune which she puts to such good use in A Swiftly Tilting Planet.  The Rune is from a longer piece, "The Lorica," which is attributed to St. Patrick.  Here it is:

At Tara today in this fateful hour,
I place all Heaven with its power,
And the sun with its brightness,
And the snow with its whiteness,
And the fire with all the strength it hath,
And the lightning with its rapid wrath,
And the winds with their swiftness along their path,
And the sea with its deepness,
And the rocks with their steepness,
And the earth with its starkness,
       All these I place,
       By God's almighty help and grace,
Between myself and the powers of darkness.

I had forgotten about this rune until today when I saw someone else post it.  In this time of threats of fire and fury, of violent rhetoric, and hair triggers, I am grateful for words of power calling for God's almighty help and grace.  It's so easy to get caught up in the anger and fear, and I can't help worrying when I hear world leaders suggesting the use of nuclear weapons.

I share this rune/prayer in case it is helpful to anyone else.  We all have a part in shifting the energy toward peace, and I have gratitude for anything that helps us do so.

CNU Labyrinth Walk

I took the SpiritWorks "Happy" Labyrinth to the Plaza at CNU this afternoon so that students could walk it during their midterms.  This labyrinth is also known as a Triune Labyrinth.  Turns out that the Plaza is a better location than the Chapel lawn if we want students to encounter it.  So many students came by and read the sign and stared at the labyrinth.  About 15 people walked it.  One student walked twice and another walked 4 times.  She said she had done a paper on the labyrinth but had never gotten to walk one before.  I was so pleased to be able to offer her the opportunity.

Since I began the Plaza Prayer Station, I have made the commitment that I wouldn't share the prayer requests or stories that I hear on this blog because they are personal, and I don't want anyone to find their story on the Internet, even if I don't identify the person.  But I wish I could share a few of the stories from tonight.  Suffice it to say, powerful things were going on in the labyrinth.  How privileged I am to get to hold the space for other people to encounter God.  How grateful I am for the ways that God showed up tonight.

I prayed for people as they walked.  One student practically ran along the path, as if it were a game.  She looked like she was having so much fun.  Three young men walked it together, all very slowly and prayerfully.  They called it a prayer walk.  It was mesmerizing to watch the three forms moving back and forth across the sacred circles.  Most got to the center and then just walked straight out, though I noticed that they wouldn't step on the lines.  One person rode his bike around the outside of the labyrinth a few times, not quite willing to dismount and take the walk.  A few students came up and asked me about the labyrinth but decided not to walk it.  Several clearly felt more relaxed after they had walked. 

I don't think the students get much contemplative time.  They're so busy with so many things.  What a gift some of them gave themselves today to be brave enough to come up and try something new - especially out there in front of everyone.  It was good to have the Canterbury students come and walk it, too - and especially wonderful that some of them helped me pack everything up and carry it to my car.  A group of us then went to see TheaterCNU's production of Noises Off!  I laughed so hard I cried.  I last saw that show in 1986 and had remembered it as one of the funniest plays I'd ever seen.  This cast did a great job, and the spinning set got applause, too!

What a delightful day full of love and laughter and labyrinth.  Bless them, God, as they finish this half of the semester and travel home for Fall Break.  Keep them safe as they travel and fill them with your peace.  Give them rest from their labor and the gift of laughter.

Sundays @ 7: Intentional Community of Prayer

Tonight was our first ever Sundays @ 7 service.  We created it because people have asked us to have a First Fridays every week.  A full Eucharist every week doesn't fit our schedule or Bruton's, but we've been trying to figure out how to have a weekly offering at a time that is convenient for people.  For awhile we thought about doing a dinner church a la St. Lydia's in Brooklyn, but the thought of cooking dinner for a group of people is so stressful to me that I just couldn't figure it out.  Neither Jan nor I are cooks, and SpiritWorks doesn't have a kitchen.  One day "Sundays @ 7" popped into Jan's head, and in our minds it was also "Sundaes @ 7."  Ice cream sundaes don't stress me out at all!  Admittedly I hadn't planned on making homemade ice cream, but a little help from William Sonoma, and voila!  Homemade vanilla and mocha chip ice cream. 

The purpose of the service is to create an intentional community of prayer, not unlike Richmond Hill.  They pray for the City of Richmond.  We pray for those who have been affected by addiction.  So I started to develop a service based on Evening Prayer and then I switched to Compline.  In the end it's really a prayer and song service.  Jan and I accompanied the singing on djembe drums, and those who came joined in with shakers and other percussion instruments.  We had a time of silence like they do at Nadia Bolz-Weber's church, in which people could pray or light candles or write prayer requests on notecards to be read during the intercessions.  We used a singing bell to begin and end the silence.  One of my favorite parts was using the Taizé song "O Lord hear my Prayer" in between each set of petitions during the Intercessions.  We pray for those struggling with addiction, family and friends, those who support people affected by addiction, people in recovery, and people who have died.  We include community organizations, first responders, sponsors, mentors, etc. We used the Gospel reading from the daily office, and I did a reflection about the feeding of the 4000.  We also had a recovery reading and a Psalm.  We ended with "Holy Manna," complete with drums and shakers.

The only thing that I didn't like about the service was that a train went through during the intercessions, and we are right across the street from the train.  Hard to be heard over a train!  But other than that, I was so delighted with the service.  I've never been brave enough to lead music with my drum before, but I had observed someone doing that earlier in the week and decided that I could do it.  We had fun creating the altar with items that we collected from around SpiritWorks.  We turned our little pavilion which is usually the designated smoking area into a sacred space, a space for prayer and worship.  Of course, being outdoors on a cool night with a breeze and sunshine was just the icing on the cake.  Well, except for the actual icing on the cake. 

I might not be able to cook dinner, but I can bake!  We sang happy birthday to Jan whose birthday is tomorrow, and everyone enjoyed a little sweet feast after the service.  So grateful for the beautiful day and the people who came and the stress-free set-up and that I was able to give my little reflection without a manuscript and that everyone participated in making music together and praying together.  I hope the service will grow as we continue each Sunday evening this summer, AND I was grateful for the 8 people we had.  Eight is enough to start a community, and start it we did, with reverence and gratitude and joy for all we have been given in our recovery.

"Taste and see the grace eternal.

Taste and see that God is good."  -Sylvia G. Dunston, All Who Hunger Gather Gladly

Soundtrack from the Plaza Prayer Station - Throwback Thursday

From the moment I arrived at the prayer station today, I heard music.  Though it was not quite 50 degrees, I had dressed warmly and decided that I wanted to sit outside.  When I heard loud music coming from inside the DSU I was happy I wasn't trying to compete with the noise in the building.  It appeared to be a fraternity doing some sort of event.  It was chilly outside, but not unbearable.  I was a bit earlier than usual, and I had located one of my rosaries, so I sat for awhile and just prayed.  I haven't done much focused prayer at the station in recent weeks.  I'm just so easily distracted.  But no one was talking to me, so I spent time in prayer, enjoying the physical focus of the rosary.  A kind woman came over and asked if I wanted some hot cocoa and then brought me some from the dining hall - hit the spot and warmed me up.  I spent some time with a couple of the Canterbury students who dropped by for a chat.  Through it all, every time the doors of the DSU opened, I kept hearing the music. It was kind of like we had a soundtrack for the day.  I got especially excited when I heard Men Without Hats singing "The Safety Dance." That's from MY college days!  I started chair dancing.

After about the first hour, I began to receive more prayer requests than I have all semester.  I got to PRAY!  I prayed for people who had died and people who were sick.  I prayed for healing for injuries, illness, and broken relationships.  I prayed for job interviews and struggling family members.  Some who came have known me awhile but had never asked for prayers.  Some were walking by, saw the sign, considered for a moment, and then headed over.  Several people came up to thank me for being there.  One young woman told me that just seeing me sit there each week brought her a sense of peace.  I gave blessings to several people and chatted with a few others who were just passing by.  I won't say that I had a line, but it was definitely a steady stream of people.

Eventually it was 1:30, the time when most students head off to class and the time when I take a break for a pit stop and some food.  When I went inside I thanked the guys for the great music.  We had heard Taylor Swift, A-ha, and a Celtic Rock group singing "Star of the County Down," and many more I can't remember now.  I kept tapping my feet and moving my shoulders in time to the beat.  I think the music made me more animated which may have been more inviting to the students.  Whatever the reason, I felt festive even though the weather was chilly and drab.  "The music is awesome!"  I told them.

After I ate, I heard Journey playing and decided to go ask the guys what the music was for.   They were so friendly.  They told me they were a fraternity, Pi Lambda Phi, and the event was about eliminating prejudice.  Sounded pretty awesome to me.  It was a fundraiser for them.  Donate $1 and they'll play your favorite song.  That's why there were so many different songs and artists.  They asked me to donate, so I did.  "Name your guilty song pleasure," one of them said.  All I could think of was a Facebook post this week by my seminary classmate, Les Carpenter, talking about "We built this city," by Jefferson Starship.  They found it and played it!

What I didn't realize is that part of the deal was that they would dance through the whole song.  Those guys were good sports!  As much as I like that song, I think they found an extended version of it because those guys danced for like 8 minutes.  Even I got tired of listening to it after that long.  I asked them if I could take pictures and they said yes.  Truly entertaining and fun.  I wish I'd had the nerve to get in the line and join in the dance. I wanted to be the dancing priest, and I did dance a bit on the side, but I couldn't quite find the courage to go out in the middle with them.  I admired their willingness to be silly and have fun for their cause. 

This was one of my most delightful days at the Plaza Prayer Station.  Meeting new people, lots of prayers, and always the underlying music.  Several of those who came for prayer asked me how they could pray for me.  It always takes me by surprise, though it is not a rare occurrence.  This time, though, I asked them to pray for the prayer station, "That those who need it will find it."  I think they must have started praying, because more people found it today than had in a long time.  Will you pray with us too?  That those who need the prayer station will find it and that the prayers will meet them in their need?  Thanks!  And if you need a smile tonight, put on your favorite 80's tune and think of the Pi Lambda Phi guys rockin' out!

View from the Plaza Prayer Station: Hug from God

I don't have a picture from yesterday's time at the Prayer Station.  I completely forgot to take one.  About a half hour before I was due on campus, as I was sitting in my office at St. Stephen's taking care of some administrative tasks, I heard that a parishioner had died.  As the rector is away at a continuing ed event, I immediately tried to call to reach the family.  When the answering machine picked up, I heard the voice of the man who had died.  It was so surreal in that moment.  I had just heard that he had died, and yet there he was, talking to me through the phone.  Though I didn't know him well, he had always been very kind to me and was known for taking pictures of me standing next to the bishop at big events.  Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to make sound come out of my mouth to leave a message. 

Needless to say, I was late to the Prayer Station.  When I arrived I opted to sit outside.  It was supposed to be in the 50's, but really it was 44.  The sun was warm, but the wind was cold.  When it stopped blowing, the sun was warm on my back, but it didn't stop very often.  Still, it was good to be back in my spot outside, even though I had to keep shifting my spot to stay in the sun.  I had a couple of conversations with Canterburians, and several people popped by for prayers.  It always makes me smile when they want a hug afterwards.  In college I was known as the Designated Hugger because I was always going around giving out hugs.  But with Safe Church on my mind and the awareness that hugs are not what everyone wants, I now let others initiate unless I know them well already.  To me the fact that they ask for a hug after prayer means that they've found some comfort and that they feel safe.  One of the things I often complain to God about is that God is just so intangible.  I find myself wishing that God could hug me.  And of course God does, through other people.  I hope for those who come to the Prayer Station that their experience is like receiving a hug from God, a moment in their day when they know that they're not alone.

As I sat, I kept thinking about the circle of life.  A man in his 80's had died.  A beautiful man with a big heart and such depth in his eyes.  I thought about how much he had seen and done in his many years.  He was at the end of life, and I am grateful that I had a little time to be with him though I am sad and will miss him.  At the Prayer Station I see so much young life, new ideas, growing minds.  They bike and skateboard and walk across the Plaza, headed to class, to lunch, to study or to hang out with one another.  They are just starting out.  And here I sit, halfway between those who are just starting out and those who are finishing up their lives. 

It's been a hard week for me.  I found that I didn't have a lot of deep thoughts.  Instead I just sat and watched and listened and prayed.  Being at the Prayer Station is kind of like a hug from God for me. 

View from the DSU Prayer Station - Into the Woods

I prayed for a student with cancer today.

I cannot imagine.  As always when I pray for people with big, scary stuff, the words seemed so inadequate.  I have to trust that God speaks through them because the words seem so small, such tiny points of light to hold in a very dark space.  Like trying to light the way through the woods with a laser pointer on a night with no moon.  Healing does not always mean cure, and God's outcome is not always the one for which we've hoped.  Please, God, speak hope through the words that are too small to carry such a huge burden.

When I was a junior in college, my mother got cancer the first time.  My brother and I found out at Christmas break that she was going for an appointment to learn what it was.  I remember the day I got the call saying that it was indeed cancer.  I think it was a Sunday.  I don't even know how I got there, but I was wandering around in the street outside the old dining hall at Sewanee and I bumped into my friend Giles.  I think I told him.  He invited me in to the Banana-mobile, his big yellow station wagon that often let us know where he was on campus, and he played music for me.  Might have been Enya.  I remember being numb.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't want to be alone that semester.  But I didn't want to talk.  I remember that I didn't tell my dear sorority sisters at first.  It seemed like I might crack under their love and concern.  I kept trying to hold it together.  I didn't know how to feel.  Though my head knew it was so, my heart had not considered that my parents were mortal. 

I wished.  And wished.  And hoped.  And prayed.  That my mother would live.

And she did.

I remember going to the rooms of friends and just sitting so that I could be close to them.  It was hard to focus on anything, and it was a very challenging semester of work.  I went home one weekend after my mother had her surgery, and all I can remember is how irritable I was.  I don't think I was very helpful at all.  I wanted my mother to be my mother.  I didn't want to take care of her.  I wanted her to take care of me. 

Today I was inside again for the prayer station, under the Into the Woods sign.  I went to see the movie last Friday.  "Sometimes people leave you, halfway through the woods..."  I am grieving for the people who leave us.  My mother battled cancer a second time, and she came out again safe on the other side.  I continue to be grateful for the extra time with her. 

It was very hard for me to cope with my mother's cancer when I was 20.  I cannot imagine what it would be like to HAVE cancer while in college.  I pray that God will lead the student I prayed for through her time in the woods and give her the comfort and strength and courage and support and healing she needs.  I wish...

We are not alone, but sometimes it feels like it.  I wish for this student that she would not feel alone, that she would feel God with her and that all who are struggling right now may feel the peace of God's presence.  There were two prayer requests today, two very big prayer requests, one at the prayer station and one from someone who saw our sign outside the chapel and came in for Eucharist.  "This is how you can pray for me," she said.  Please pray for them.

Prayer Station goes Into the Woods

View of the Student Union from the Prayer Station

View from the DSU Prayer Station - Is it spring yet?

Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, baby, it's cold outside!  Brrrrr....  I'm sure my friends in northern climes will mock me, but it is COLD outside!  I did live in Chicago for 3 years, so I understand that those who are experiencing highs in the single digits may not have sympathy for me.  But it was 11 when I left my house this morning and is now 24 with a wind chill of 16.  Needless to say, the Plaza Prayer Station had to move inside.  I was disappointed, but there was no way around it.  Because the student union (DSU) at CNU has 3 entrances to the area where I was sitting, all of them with big doors directly to outside, it wasn't much warmer in there.  I wore coat, scarf, and gloves the whole time.  I couldn't even stay my whole 2 hours.  As a reward, now I am happily ensconced in a chair at the edge of Einstein's sitting in a sun beam and drinking a hot chai.  (But I still haven't taken off my coat!)

Being in the DSU was very different.  Much louder and more crowded.  Harder to concentrate on prayer.  Mostly I observed the many styles of coats and boots and was happy to see only one pair of shorts.  I though it appropriate for many reasons that I was able to find a spot right by Theatre CNU's advertisement for Into the Woods.  I couldn't always tell if people looking my way were looking at my sign or the ad for the show.  There were so many more people inside than I usually see in the Plaza, so I know that more people saw that I was there, though that didn't translate into more contacts.  Several people came by and said they were glad to see I had moved inside.  A few students who know me came up to say hi and exchange hugs.  It's nice to know more people this semester. 

I had to remind myself that although I know a few more people, I still have to reestablish myself and the prayer station.  Considering that on my first day last semester no one spoke to me, I would say today was significantly better.  The highlight was when a young woman came up and pointed to my sign and said, "Are you part of this."  When I said yes and introduced myself, she said, "I'm not even a student here.  I'm just in high school.  But this is so cool!"  She has already applied to CNU and was here today for a band workshop; she plays oboe.  She said she was wondering what the Christian community was like at CNU.  So I was able to tell her about the various flavors available.  She seemed so excited to see me and be on campus and to know that the prayer station is there.  "Can I have a hug?" she asked.  Of course I said yes, and I wished her luck as she bounced away.  Seems like CNU is a good fit for her from that exchange.

For those of you who follow this blog, I would ask for your prayers again this semester as I continue this ministry.  I can feel your prayer support each week, and I know it helps sustain me.  We will be doing a "Blessing of the Semester" service at 1:00 on Sunday which will be similar to a house blessing but with full Anglican procession, incense, and asperges.  We may have 5 or 25.  My prayer is that it will arouse curiosity and interest in who we are and what we're doing.  My prayer for the Plaza/DSU Prayer Station is that those in the CNU Community who need it may find it and that all who encounter it will feel the presence of God more deeply.  Into the woods of a new semester we go.  May God bless us all!

View from the Plaza Prayer Station: Walk Humbly with Your God

On Thursday I headed out into the Plaza with high hopes.  I'd received so much publicity and positive feedback about the prayer station in the past week.  It might have gone to my head just a bit.  Not to worry.  There are always new opportunities for humility.

When I got to the Plaza I noticed that I would be sharing the space with one of the campus sororities.  They were giving away pink lemonade as one of their "Pinktober" events to raise awareness and funds for breast cancer research. "My" spot was available, so I set up my sign and chairs, ate my granola bar and eagerly awaited my first visitors.  I waited.  And waited.  And waited.  It seemed like there weren't as many people in the Plaza.  No skateboard dudes.  Not as many students eating their lunch outside.  Well, mid-terms are next week, I thought.  Maybe everyone is studying. 

The longer I sat without visitors, the more I had to remind myself that my primary purpose in sitting there is to pray.  And I can do that whether individuals come up to me or not.  So I did pray, for all the students I know and the concerns that have been brought to me in past weeks, for faculty, administration and staff, for other campus ministries, for seminaries, especially General, and for any other concerns that came to my mind.  I prayed with my rosary.  I prayed noonday prayer and the noonday family devotions.  I tried to radiate a sense of peace and calm for those who might be anxious or taking tests.  I imagined a wave of love emanating from the Plaza and extending throughout the campus.  At one point I got up and went over to the "Drink Pink" booth for a cup of pink lemonade.  I made a donation in honor of my mom who is a two-time survivor and whose 70th birthday is this week. 

Posing with President Trible

I tried not to be disappointed. I also tried not to over-analyze whether my spot is in the best locationor whether I need to move.  It seemed like the women of Zeta Tau Alpha were having similar issues, though more people wanted free lemonade than prayers. I watched as they tried to figure out how to get more visitors to their booth.  They were very excited when President Trible came over and posed for a picture with them.  I heard them wondering whether a different entrance to the Student Union might have more traffic.  When one of them started to walk away, I heard another say, "Don't leave," and I smiled.  It's a little scary out there in the Plaza on your own.  Best not to do it alone!

As I sat there I remembered that I wasn't alone either.  So many people were praying for me and for the ministry.  And of course, God is there too.  At our Canterbury meetings we've been talking about where we've encountered God during the week.  I've noticed that most of us tend to share moments of happiness or answered prayers.  We tend to associate God's presence with times of joy and positive outcomes.  But is God any less present when a chaplain sits and prays for a campus by herself than when students flock up to her?  Do we only thank God when we get what we want or when it goes better than expected?  As I've reflected on this week's time at the prayer station, I've come to realize that God may have been present in a very different way, but in the midst of all my expectations, it was hard to see.

It had been an exciting but exhausting week for me at both my ministry sites.  Lots of publicity, pictures with the governor, long nights of working on an essay for a contest, and a bit of an intestinal thingy that wasn't serious but left me feeling a little weak and not able to eat much.  I was longing for rest and renewal.  And isn't that what I received as I sat in a comfortable chair on a beautiful day watching the clouds drift and praying for the well-being of others?  A gift of rest.  A gift of time just to be.  It didn't feed my ego.  But it did feed my soul.  So my prayer this week for those at CNU and any others who need it is that you will also receive the gift of some "still time," time for being, time for waiting, time for walking humbly with God.  May you be open to the gift of that time, and may it nourish and restore you.

 

View from the Plaza Prayer Station: Never Underestimate God

I had such low expectations for this ministry.  My whole goal was to be brave enough to set up a sign and sit next to it.  I had figured it would take a long time for students to get used to me being there.  Never underestimate God. 

Week 1:  I show up with sign and chair and nervously sit and pray.
Week 2:  One of "my" students comes by to say hello and then a handful of "new" students come over to check out the prayer station and stand around chatting with me.
Week 3:  "Repeat customers" come over as soon as I arrive and plop down next to me on chair and bench, sharing concerns about their lives, asking about my faith tradition and why I started this ministry, conversing about the Enneagram and labyrinths, and sharing pictures of their projects for art class.  I extend the time I'm there to accommodate the traffic and to give myself time to pray once the Plaza clears out for class.

In three weeks this ministry went from no visitors at all to a constant stream of students hanging out, coming and going, checking in and introducing me to friends.  New lesson this week:  eat lunch before I come because once I sit down, there's no time for food.  And:  Never underestimate God.

I have been praying for a way to reach more students.  Fliers, campus email and tv announcements, Facebook, texts, and banners have failed to reach more than a handful of students.  Or our message hasn't been compelling enough to stand out from the plethora of campus activities.  And so, in the interest of ministering to a campus instead of just trying to grow a group, I wanted to figure out what a small Episcopal campus ministry could offer this school.  Many of the students already participate in campus ministries like InterVarsity, Campus Crusade (CRU), RUF, or Young Life, and many more participate in the astounding variety of Bible studies provided on campus.  We began offering a weekday Eucharist last semester, but that's still hidden away in the chapel (even with all the aforementioned advertising.)  It feeds a few, and that's wonderful, but I thought we could do more.  How, though, to become visible?  (Especially if we are shy and introverted!)

Last year I tried bringing Micah the black lab puppy.  Lots of students came up to pet him - he was a big hit.  But conversations ranged from "May I pet your dog?" to "Thanks for letting me pet your dog," to questions about Micah's age and known tricks.  And, we couldn't go inside.  I interacted with students, and I understand that some chaplains are able to transform the interest in the dog into deeper conversation.  I am not so gifted.     

This prayer station ministry, though, seems to be working.  Not to grow a group.  To minister to the campus.  The students I talk to are leading their own Bible studies as part of another campus ministry.  And yet they are drawn to the presence of a person praying for them, someone who doesn't judge or grade them, someone who isn't there to enforce rules, someone with a little more life experience, someone who has time to listen.  And maybe that's the most important thing - being visibly available to listen.  One person told me that after she had met me last week, she came through the next day and looked over to "my" corner of the Plaza and felt sad that no one was there.  Another person said she had seen the station on the way to her chemistry test and it made her smile.  Many of the ones who spoke to me yesterday said they'd see me next week.  They wanted to know what day and what hours I would be there.  

Maybe next week I'll take a prayer book.  Maybe we'll spontaneously start doing noon-day prayer together.  Maybe I'll bring the portable labyrinth from SpiritWorks.  Maybe I'll have another week where no one comes.  But they will see me, sitting there, available if they need me, ready to listen.  There's no telling what might happen.  We need to stay open for surprises - there's no telling what God might do next. 

Plaza Prayer Station

View of Great Lawn behind the Prayer Station

How May I Pray for You?

Sometime last spring I read a blog post by Jonathan Melton, campus minister at University of Wisconsin-Madison.  In the post Jonathan talked about starting what I call a "chapel steps" ministry in which he put out a couple of chairs next to a sign that said, "How may I pray for you?"  Although I didn't remember all the details, that blog post lodged itself in my brain, and from time to time I would think about it and ask myself whether I wanted to start such a ministry at CNU.  What he did sounded so brave to this shy introvert.  But it also sounded like a way to have an actual praying ministry on campus, and that appealed to me.

I ran the idea of the prayer ministry past my students, and they said, "If you're willing to do it, we think it's great."  That was the real question - was I willing to do it?  In my head where I'm courageous and filled with great ideas, I was absolutely willing to do it.  But then fear and worry took over when I tried to picture how I was actually going to do it.  So I found Jonathan's blog post and reread it.

Jonathan's question was "How shall I sit?"  My question was, "How do I make the sign?"  When I'm  nervous, I can get stuck on details like that, and then I have a very convenient excuse for not getting around to the actual ministry.  What kind of sign should I get?  What should I put on the sign?  Where should the sign go?  I figured it might take at least another year to figure out the whole sign thing.  So I decided to cut myself off at the pass, and I emailed Jonathan to ask him about his sign.  He very graciously shared where he had gotten his sign as well as sharing some of what he had learned from his prayer ministry with me.  I had no more excuses.  So I ordered a sign and some brightly colored chalk markers. 

On the day I had decided to start the prayer ministry, I walked onto campus and immediately got cold feet despite the almost 90 degree temperature.  I had decided to sit from 1-2 in the Plaza between the student union and the library.  Though I wanted to sit on the chapel steps, not much foot traffic goes by there, so I wanted to be where the students are.  I thought I would scope out my location before dragging the beautiful but way-too-heavy sign to the Plaza.  As soon as I got there and saw all the students milling about for a "Meet the Greeks" event, fear took over.  "I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this."  I told myself it was okay to have a day to scout things out and that I could start the actual ministry the following week.  And then I remembered that the night before I had asked a friend to pray for me and she had said she would set an alarm.  She was praying.  How could I go back and tell her that I hadn't even tried?  So I said my own prayer for strength and courage, and I went to my car to get the sign and the chairs and some water.  A student saw me struggling with the sign and came over to help me carry it.  I thanked him and, after picking a spot in the shade but off to the side, I sat down by the sign to begin my hour of prayer.

On that first day, no one came up for prayer or even spoke, though a few people smiled on their way past.  It didn't matter to me, though.  I prayed for the campus and the students in the Canterbury Club.  At the end of the hour I packed up.  It had been a success.  Not because students had come up asking for prayer - I really hadn't expected that would happen on the first day.  Not because I had helped the Canterbury Club grow in membership.  Not because I had been especially focused in the time of prayer.  No, it was a success because I showed up.  Someone prayed for me, and that helped me to pray for others.  It was really very simple.  Didn't require a lot of courage at all.  By showing up that first time, I knew I would be able to continue the ministry on another day, and hopefully over time it would involve more and more people praying and receiving prayer. 

So, if you're reading this, I invite you to pray for the CNU Episcopal Campus Ministry prayer station.  And be sure to let us know how we may pray for you.

Heart Space

The other day I finished reading Richard Rohr's latest book, Immortal Diamond.  At the back he included several appendices.  The one that has captured my attention is called, "Head into Heart: 'The Sacred Heart.'"  In this little appendix Rohr discusses bringing our thoughts into our hearts.  He talks about how important this idea was for the Desert Fathers and Mothers, and he links it to the "Sacred Heart" imagery so often found in Catholic art.

I confess, I have never given a thought to the "Sacred Heart."  And though I've read the Desert Fathers and Mothers, I've never thought about prayer in exactly this way, bringing my thoughts down into my heart.  Rohr says, "Next time a resentment, negativity, or irritation comes into your mind... and you want to play it out or attach to it, move that thought or person literally into your heart space because such commentaries are almost entirely lodged in your head.  There, surround it with silence (which is much easier to do in the heart).  There, it is surrounded with blood, which will often feel warm like coals." (p. 204)  He goes on to suggest that what we do when we pray for someone is to move them into our heart space.

I have never heard this description of prayer before.  I'm finding it to be a very powerful practice, though.  I know that we can't "literally" move people into our hearts, but imagining moving someone into my heart is a very tender and vulnerable experience.  As Rohr suggests, it is in our thoughts that we hold onto resentments, judgments, criticisms, and endless ongoing conversations.  In our heart space, there is love.   I can't imagine someone in my heart space and continue to be angry, frustrated, unforgiving, etc.  That space is warm and accepting and so very gentle.  It seems that I am not yet able to put just anyone there.  But I'm hoping that with practice, I can learn to move people into that space when I'm ready and when it feels safe to do so. 

Being someone who gets endlessly trapped in thinking, I am grateful for a concrete prayer practice that I think will have a powerful influence on my ability to forgive.  Myself and others.  Though I haven't tried it yet, I am guessing I can use this practice with my self as well as others, especially when I get caught up in the relentless self criticism in my head.  Ever so gently I can imagine me in my heart, wrapped in love, just as I imagine that God holds us in God's heart.  I'm not sure whether that makes any sense at all, but I will continue to try it and see what I learn.

The other night I watched the movie, E.T., for the first time in many years.  E.T.'s heart space looks kind of like what I'm imagining when I put people in mine.  Visuals are hard for me, so it helps.  Rohr says, "Love lives and thrives in the heart space."  I believe that.  I'm hoping I can transform the negatives in my life by moving them down into the loving space of my heart.  With God's help.