Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Off road, into adventure
Whoa. Something happened. I don’t know what, but I do know when. A couple of weeks ago I had this dream. I dreamt I found a field. I left the road I was on, and turned into this field. I was excited — because I knew that somewhere in this particular field, there was treasure. All I had to do was dig in the right spot, and I would find it.
The shift happened. This is how a wanderer turned into an adventurer. Maybe I got lucky. Maybe I experienced an epiphany of sorts. Maybe just a change in perception. But at a fundamental level, something shifted. Something changed. And possibility, although always out there, came within reach. Amazing!
Since about age 18, I have known myself to be in the wilderness, wandering for almost as long as Moses, feeling every bit as clueless as the lost tribes of Israel as they looked for their promised land. “What kind of season is this, Lord?” I wondered. I wandered. And wandered some more. I had been out there so long I thought I might as well apply for a permanent address.
The lesson might be about understanding where the kingdom lies: is it without, or, within? The kingdom of God lies all around us. So obvious and yet so not. With unmatched, gentle humor, I think God is often hiding things from us in plain sight.
The message to me is: Go on! Just go in. Sure, it takes courage. The reverse of the same kind of courage that called Peter to step out over the gunwhale of all that was familiar to him and start that slip-sliding water walk to the One he loved.
Step out, or, go in…just DO something, for God’s sake! And, for our own sake. Because in the searching comes the finding. In the knocking comes the answering. And the power lies in the process of full engagement. As long as I remain living only in my head, my life is on cruise control — zipping along, safely encased in my mind, I am totally removed from any meaningful engagement in the landscape of my life. How sad and how sterile.
The frightened steward in Matthew’s telling of the talents parable took his talent and buried it in his own backyard. I think that jar of his probably held three cups of wildflower seed, which, had it been scattered over the fertile soil, might have yielded a yard of glory and a riot of delight.
My field is the treasure. I just pray that the soil is good.
Richard Rumble
May 2013
The shift happened. This is how a wanderer turned into an adventurer. Maybe I got lucky. Maybe I experienced an epiphany of sorts. Maybe just a change in perception. But at a fundamental level, something shifted. Something changed. And possibility, although always out there, came within reach. Amazing!
Since about age 18, I have known myself to be in the wilderness, wandering for almost as long as Moses, feeling every bit as clueless as the lost tribes of Israel as they looked for their promised land. “What kind of season is this, Lord?” I wondered. I wandered. And wandered some more. I had been out there so long I thought I might as well apply for a permanent address.
The lesson might be about understanding where the kingdom lies: is it without, or, within? The kingdom of God lies all around us. So obvious and yet so not. With unmatched, gentle humor, I think God is often hiding things from us in plain sight.
The message to me is: Go on! Just go in. Sure, it takes courage. The reverse of the same kind of courage that called Peter to step out over the gunwhale of all that was familiar to him and start that slip-sliding water walk to the One he loved.
Step out, or, go in…just DO something, for God’s sake! And, for our own sake. Because in the searching comes the finding. In the knocking comes the answering. And the power lies in the process of full engagement. As long as I remain living only in my head, my life is on cruise control — zipping along, safely encased in my mind, I am totally removed from any meaningful engagement in the landscape of my life. How sad and how sterile.
The frightened steward in Matthew’s telling of the talents parable took his talent and buried it in his own backyard. I think that jar of his probably held three cups of wildflower seed, which, had it been scattered over the fertile soil, might have yielded a yard of glory and a riot of delight.
My field is the treasure. I just pray that the soil is good.
Richard Rumble
May 2013
Thursday, April 25, 2013
In third place (and loving it)
For the past month, I have listened to some powerful conversations taking place all around me. The range of topics spans remarkable breadths — everything from burning bushes to bus rapid transit.
One factor that made these conversations exceptional was the eclectic variety of folks engaged in the talking — young, old, black, white, men, women, city folk and county folk. How did this come to happen? How do we make space to engage in important conversations? And where do we find the room to listen?
You may think it depends on the presenting issue. And I’ll agree that an issue is a first factor of engagement. But next, it becomes a question of space — head space, heart space, and, finally, meeting space.
What does good listening space look like? Or feel like? It can happen in something called called “third place.”
Here’s how that’s defined in Wikipedia: “The third place (also known as third space) is a term used in the concept of community building to refer to social surroundings separate from the two usual social environments of home and the workplace.
“In his influential book The Great Good Place, Ray Oldenburg (1989, 1991) argues that third places are important for civil society, democracy, civic engagement, and establishing feelings of a sense of place.
“Oldenburg calls one’s ‘first place’ the home and those that one lives with. The ‘second place’ is the workplace — where people may actually spend most of their time. Third places, then, are ‘anchors’ of community life and facilitate and foster broader, more creative interaction. All societies already have informal meeting places; what is new in modern times is the intentionality of seeking them out as vital to current societal needs.
“Oldenburg suggests the following hallmarks of a true ‘third place’: Free or inexpensive | Food and drink, while not essential, are important | Highly accessible: proximate for many (walking distance) | Involve regulars – those who habitually congregate there | Welcoming and comfortable | Both new friends and old should be found there.”
Some of these attributes are the hallmarks of monastic hospitality. Most of them are covered in our Rule of Life here at Richmond Hill.
Come up, come in, say a prayer, have a cup of coffee. Slip into third place. And let’s talk about transforming this metropolitan City of ours.
Richard Rumble
April 2013
One factor that made these conversations exceptional was the eclectic variety of folks engaged in the talking — young, old, black, white, men, women, city folk and county folk. How did this come to happen? How do we make space to engage in important conversations? And where do we find the room to listen?
You may think it depends on the presenting issue. And I’ll agree that an issue is a first factor of engagement. But next, it becomes a question of space — head space, heart space, and, finally, meeting space.
What does good listening space look like? Or feel like? It can happen in something called called “third place.”
Here’s how that’s defined in Wikipedia: “The third place (also known as third space) is a term used in the concept of community building to refer to social surroundings separate from the two usual social environments of home and the workplace.
“In his influential book The Great Good Place, Ray Oldenburg (1989, 1991) argues that third places are important for civil society, democracy, civic engagement, and establishing feelings of a sense of place.
“Oldenburg calls one’s ‘first place’ the home and those that one lives with. The ‘second place’ is the workplace — where people may actually spend most of their time. Third places, then, are ‘anchors’ of community life and facilitate and foster broader, more creative interaction. All societies already have informal meeting places; what is new in modern times is the intentionality of seeking them out as vital to current societal needs.
“Oldenburg suggests the following hallmarks of a true ‘third place’: Free or inexpensive | Food and drink, while not essential, are important | Highly accessible: proximate for many (walking distance) | Involve regulars – those who habitually congregate there | Welcoming and comfortable | Both new friends and old should be found there.”
Some of these attributes are the hallmarks of monastic hospitality. Most of them are covered in our Rule of Life here at Richmond Hill.
Come up, come in, say a prayer, have a cup of coffee. Slip into third place. And let’s talk about transforming this metropolitan City of ours.
Richard Rumble
April 2013
Hearting our heading
Last month at Thursday Montage (an informal gathering of artists in the Richmond Hill art space), Andrew Terry shared his banner—an art object he made 6-7 years ago—that articulated for him a unique understanding of where he was/is headed.
He mapped his call. He “pictured” his idea, his longing, his place. Andrew might tell you he is not an artist, but he used these artist tools: imagination, hands, heart—and he created a map of his own making. He devised a vision, if not a place, of where he is heading. And he pondered it in his heart.
When his seminary studies were complete, Andrew received two wonderful job offers. How did he pick the place where he is? He went with what was in his heart. And the banner helped him see it clearly.
So, can hearting have an impact on heading? How do we pay attention to our interior signs? (Is this a personal showing of prophecy?)
Who planted the desire in our hearts in the first place? It can take a lifetime to figure out what is there. That task is not easy. With all that's going on around us it is hard to pay attention to what's going on within.
Sometimes, there is the possibility of a leaping heart, as in “my heart leapt at” the sound of her voice, or the sight of his smile—the sight or sound of something we know to be significant comes from deep within our core. We may not have ever seen it or heard it before, but when we do experience it, we recognize it immediately as holding some big significance for us.
If we cannot find the feeling firsthand, there are other means to point our way. Words, story, or poetry often can carry the clues to where we are heading, by showing us what touches our heart.
What about hurt? Does hurting affect hearting? Sometimes it does. Hurt and pain can point to the end of a road. The hurt from an aching heart can be a big indicator of loss.
And loss can point us in the direction of found.
Hearting helps with heading. It serves to balance logic with emotion. It gets us to the neighborhood of where we want to go. If you operate with “I’ll know it when I see it,” then drawing close is almost as good as being there. For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he (Proverbs 23:7). But Goethe says it best: “Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do.”
Richard Rumble
February 2013
He mapped his call. He “pictured” his idea, his longing, his place. Andrew might tell you he is not an artist, but he used these artist tools: imagination, hands, heart—and he created a map of his own making. He devised a vision, if not a place, of where he is heading. And he pondered it in his heart.
When his seminary studies were complete, Andrew received two wonderful job offers. How did he pick the place where he is? He went with what was in his heart. And the banner helped him see it clearly.
So, can hearting have an impact on heading? How do we pay attention to our interior signs? (Is this a personal showing of prophecy?)
Who planted the desire in our hearts in the first place? It can take a lifetime to figure out what is there. That task is not easy. With all that's going on around us it is hard to pay attention to what's going on within.
Sometimes, there is the possibility of a leaping heart, as in “my heart leapt at” the sound of her voice, or the sight of his smile—the sight or sound of something we know to be significant comes from deep within our core. We may not have ever seen it or heard it before, but when we do experience it, we recognize it immediately as holding some big significance for us.
If we cannot find the feeling firsthand, there are other means to point our way. Words, story, or poetry often can carry the clues to where we are heading, by showing us what touches our heart.
What about hurt? Does hurting affect hearting? Sometimes it does. Hurt and pain can point to the end of a road. The hurt from an aching heart can be a big indicator of loss.
And loss can point us in the direction of found.
Hearting helps with heading. It serves to balance logic with emotion. It gets us to the neighborhood of where we want to go. If you operate with “I’ll know it when I see it,” then drawing close is almost as good as being there. For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he (Proverbs 23:7). But Goethe says it best: “Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do.”
Richard Rumble
February 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Epiphany: Walking into the light
In the aftermath of the holidays I’ve been walking. Literally, through the neighborhood on Church Hill, using “Map My Walk” (my first “app”) to chart my way as I go out each morning into the chill dawn of a new day. But also figuratively, as I navigate a major redesign and overhaul of our Richmond Hill web site.
With this web project I’ve come into a wilderness of the unknown, along with a few well-known traveling companions: Fear, Doubt and Uncertainty. Worse than the persistent, annoying comments coming from a 5-year-old in the backseat during a long car trip, these companions have replaced “Are we there yet?” with “You are so lost!” and “You'll never get out of this alive.”
I wonder as I walk. Where will this path take me? Where am I headed?
Ever notice, as we walk through our lives, how often it’s hard to know exactly where we are headed?
Sure, you can tell whether you’re going up or down a hill, and the sun provides helpful clues — is this East? West? North? Or South? These clues are good for telling you where you are. But what about where you are going? What journey are you taking?
Journeying is a process. As I’ve said before, the kind of journey is important. Is this a pilgrimage? Or are you wayfaring? What about transformation? It too is a process, and can share many aspects of both pilgrimage and wayfaring. Perhaps transformation is our destination, and pilgrimage or wayfaring are merely the means by which we reach that final goal.
Journeys are not to be taken without direction, or, without asking for direction(s). Who we ask and who we listen to can impact the outcome of each and any journey.
I subscribe to the Word of the Day. It is a daily affirmation appearing in my inbox from Gratefulness.org. What showed up on the Winter Solstice last month were these words from scholar and political theorist John Schaar: “The future is not some place we are going, but one we are creating. The paths are not to be found, but made. And the activity of making them changes both the maker and the destination.”
I find this to be helpful advice — what it lacks in clear direction it makes up for in encouragement to press on. Prayer also limits the chatter from my foes in the backseat of my mind. You simply can’t beat a good Celtic blessing like this:
O God, make clear to us each road.
O God, make safe to us each steep;
When we stumble, hold us;
When we fall, lift us up.
When we are hard-pressed with evil, deliver us;
and bring us at last to Your glory.
May God bless and keep you safe as you journey into the light of this new year.
Richard Rumble
January 2013
With this web project I’ve come into a wilderness of the unknown, along with a few well-known traveling companions: Fear, Doubt and Uncertainty. Worse than the persistent, annoying comments coming from a 5-year-old in the backseat during a long car trip, these companions have replaced “Are we there yet?” with “You are so lost!” and “You'll never get out of this alive.”
I wonder as I walk. Where will this path take me? Where am I headed?
Ever notice, as we walk through our lives, how often it’s hard to know exactly where we are headed?
Sure, you can tell whether you’re going up or down a hill, and the sun provides helpful clues — is this East? West? North? Or South? These clues are good for telling you where you are. But what about where you are going? What journey are you taking?
Journeying is a process. As I’ve said before, the kind of journey is important. Is this a pilgrimage? Or are you wayfaring? What about transformation? It too is a process, and can share many aspects of both pilgrimage and wayfaring. Perhaps transformation is our destination, and pilgrimage or wayfaring are merely the means by which we reach that final goal.
Journeys are not to be taken without direction, or, without asking for direction(s). Who we ask and who we listen to can impact the outcome of each and any journey.
I subscribe to the Word of the Day. It is a daily affirmation appearing in my inbox from Gratefulness.org. What showed up on the Winter Solstice last month were these words from scholar and political theorist John Schaar: “The future is not some place we are going, but one we are creating. The paths are not to be found, but made. And the activity of making them changes both the maker and the destination.”
I find this to be helpful advice — what it lacks in clear direction it makes up for in encouragement to press on. Prayer also limits the chatter from my foes in the backseat of my mind. You simply can’t beat a good Celtic blessing like this:
O God, make clear to us each road.
O God, make safe to us each steep;
When we stumble, hold us;
When we fall, lift us up.
When we are hard-pressed with evil, deliver us;
and bring us at last to Your glory.
May God bless and keep you safe as you journey into the light of this new year.
Richard Rumble
January 2013
Walking the Kingdom Walk
A while back in the Fall, I was enjoying some good conversation with Henry Simmons. We were discussing differences between pilgrimage and wayfaring: how the pilgrim knows where s(he)’s heading, but often wayfarers don’t know until they arrive. “Ah, yes,” said Henry. “But remember now, the pilgrim is different on their return.”
This got me to thinking about Advent and the Three Kings. They took a risky journey at great expense. They brought forth their gifts and paid their hommage to a most humble King. Who changed who? And how was life for them upon the return to their kingdoms?
Picturing myself in that story, I decided to write a song about that pilgrimage. I called it Walking the Kingdom Walk. Here’s how it goes:
Gone to Bethlehem, looking for a King
Not sure what I would find
Took a long journey with a lot of steps
Trying to ease my troubled mind
Was I coming? Was I going?
I don’t know—it felt good to be on the road
Somewhere on the way my perspective changed
You eased my heavy load
Fear was driving me, I was losing my world —
Disconnected and cut off
Getting kinda lonely out on my own
Walking the Kingdom walk
Was I coming? Was I going?
I don’t know — maybe You’ll show me a sign?
Lord, I need a glimpse of You today —
And I know things’ll work out fine
Showed up at the stable, brought forth my gift
Set it right before the Child
He looked at me, His eyes so bright
Lord, how we did smile!
Was I giving? Or receiving?
I don’t know — it felt right to be right there
Somehow out there on my way back home
I found an answer to my prayer
Was I giving? Or receiving?
It’s both, you see, that can make your life so free
On the way back home I came to find my self,
Thanking God for His gift called me.
This got me to thinking about Advent and the Three Kings. They took a risky journey at great expense. They brought forth their gifts and paid their hommage to a most humble King. Who changed who? And how was life for them upon the return to their kingdoms?
Picturing myself in that story, I decided to write a song about that pilgrimage. I called it Walking the Kingdom Walk. Here’s how it goes:
Gone to Bethlehem, looking for a King
Not sure what I would find
Took a long journey with a lot of steps
Trying to ease my troubled mind
Was I coming? Was I going?
I don’t know—it felt good to be on the road
Somewhere on the way my perspective changed
You eased my heavy load
Fear was driving me, I was losing my world —
Disconnected and cut off
Getting kinda lonely out on my own
Walking the Kingdom walk
Was I coming? Was I going?
I don’t know — maybe You’ll show me a sign?
Lord, I need a glimpse of You today —
And I know things’ll work out fine
Showed up at the stable, brought forth my gift
Set it right before the Child
He looked at me, His eyes so bright
Lord, how we did smile!
Was I giving? Or receiving?
I don’t know — it felt right to be right there
Somehow out there on my way back home
I found an answer to my prayer
Was I giving? Or receiving?
It’s both, you see, that can make your life so free
On the way back home I came to find my self,
Thanking God for His gift called me.
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