Thin Places of Faith

I was introduced to a Celtic idea called “thin places” recently by a student of mine. I have had these kinds of experiences before but never had this particular language to describe them. The Celtic phrase, “thin places,” describes situations where heaven and earth come together so profoundly that the distance between them is almost erased – a moment of connection to the Divine that is close and profoundly intimate.

In the Celtic tradition, heaven and earth are about 3 feet apart. But in “thin places” the distance is significantly reduced. I’m not certain about the 3 feet estimation of this tradition, but I’ve definitely had “thin place” experiences.

When I was in high school I went on a two week backpacking trip into the high Rocky Mountains of Colorado. We packed in our food and water for a wonderful experience in the mountains. I was stunned and amazed every day and night at all that I was seeing.

We had some remarkable opportunities. We saw herds of elk passing through grassy valleys, majestic eagles flying overhead, and dug out snow-packed areas for tent sites. I saw and experienced things that I never had before as a teen from the plains of West Texas. I had a tremendous time.

And I learned the most important rule of camping and hiking – never go anywhere alone. We were paired up and had a buddy for most of the trip. On occasion we had a different buddy but mine for the majority of the trip was Beth.

One night – way into the wee hours – nature called. I tried very hard to wake Beth up but she was out cold. I tried a few others in our camp and no one was budging. So I decided I could head out on my own as long as I stayed close to the camp (I know, it was dumb but I was young and fearless). I grabbed my trusty flashlight and headed out.

After completing my task, I thought I saw some deer moving by me and followed a bit to get a closer look at them. It did not take long for me to get turned around and lost.

Then something bad happened. The batteries in my flashlight burned out and I was in the dark. It wasn’t just dark – it was pitch dark. It was the darkest kind of dark that I had ever experienced. I could not even see my hand in front of my face. And I began to get a bit scared.

Then I started to panic. I was lost, I had no light, and I did not know what to do. So I sat down to figure out what to do next. I wondered who would find me and tell my parents I loved them if I did not make it back home (I know, it’s dramatic but again – I was young).

As I sat there, my eyes started to adjust to the dark. And as they did, I discovered that it was not as dark as I had thought it was. There was actually light shining from the amazing array of stars up in the sky. But I was in the high Rockies and they appeared so close that I literally thought I could reach out and touch some of them. There were millions of them – bright, shiny, translucent, and flickering.

In that moment I knew heaven and earth were so close together and that I was experiencing that. There was a razor’s edge between the two. And it was astonishing. I hope you have had “thin moments,” as well. But some of you may never have felt this kind of closeness to the Divine or heaven or God or whatever your call this presence. But in that moment I believe that I did.

I felt calmer, I began to make out familiar tree lines and ridges, and I could see the outlines of the area where I was pretty sure our campsite was. I began to walk on a trail I found – lit by the abundant heavenly stars – and found the campsite in just a short hike.

It was definitely a “thin place.” And I was grateful heaven and earth were so close together in that moment.

But I’ve also had the reverse – I guess we could call them “think places.” I had moments when I did not feel connected to God and times when I felt a great distance between heaven and earth.  It felt much wider than 3 feet. Most of you have felt the same way.

Now as I look back on the moments when I felt the distance between heaven and earth was wider or felt somewhat alone, I know it was not God who moved away. The Divine was still very close – maybe I did not feel it as close as I felt it on that mountaintop, but God was close nonetheless. The distance between heaven and earth is so often erased.

What’s the difference? Sometimes I’m just not sure. Was it me being open and needy on the mountaintop that led me to feel that connection? Or was it simply the circumstances? I can’t say I really have an answer but I am trying to be open to the “thin places” every day. Some days I am better than others – but I pray to be open enough to experience them. And I pray for you to experience them too.

Blog … Resolutions For a Better 2013 - Cynicism be Damned

After this year of mass shootings, economic hi-jinks in Congress, hateful political rhetoric leading up to the election, one absurd celebrity incident after another, discord and division in every realm of our society, and failed attempts at being a better people - I am tempted to be cynical about 2013. But somewhere deep inside me there is still that kid who gathered with her family around a table on New Year’s Day to eat black-eyed peas for good luck and share the resolutions we made for the new year.

I have not really made personal resolutions the last few years because I typically fail at keeping them within the first few months of the year. But this year I want to try something new – I want to make some for our society. And yes, we may fail in the first few months of the new year but I want to put them out there anyway … and will continue to pray that we try to make them come true.

First, let’s resolve to end the culture of obscene violence in our society. Let’s end the sale of assault and assault-style weapons outside of the police and military. Let’s end the production of and sale of high volume ammunition clips. Let’s set an example as a culture that has been intimately damaged by the slaughter of the innocents and chooses to do and be better as a result. Let’s be a society that values life more than the 2^nd amendment. This does not preclude hunters from being able to hunt or cops and military personnel from having the weapons they need to protect us but regular citizens do not need assault weapons or high volume clips. Our society will be better for it.

Second, let’s resolve to be more loving of one another. Let us take care of those around us who are weak, mentally and physically impaired, destitute, sick, and/or living in poverty. Let’s resolve to do the right thing for our neighbors so that they feel love in their lives in ways that are profound and personal. Let’s be willing to show mercy to those in need and not require some means-test from them to be considered worthy of that help. Let’s be our best selves and help others to be their best selves as well. Our society will be better for it.

Third, let’s be more tolerant and accepting of those with whom we disagree or with whom we have profound theological, political, or cultural differences. Let’s look for our similarities instead of always focusing on the differences first. Let’s be kinder to one another – in our real lives and in the digital world. Let’s have civil conversations and listen to the opinions of the others in our lives. And let’s show this to our children as the way to honor each other’s uniqueness so that the next generation learns from us. Our society will be better for it.

Fourth, let’s be a people of faith who trust each other again despite our diverse faith traditions. Let us be a people who honor the faith of others in profound and important ways while still being true to our own beliefs. Let’s be people of faith who welcome the stranger, visit the imprisoned, help the sick, bring the wounded stranger from the side of the road into a place of care, and accept that we can make a difference in the lives of others by being true to the God who love us all. Our society will be better for it.

Lastly, let’s be a people who are open to affirming the rights of others. Let us see persons of color and work to right the injustices inflicted upon them. Let us listen to the stories of injustice of the LGBT community and honor them with acceptance and greater moves toward full inclusion. Let us hear the desperation of kids in failing school systems and work to make things more just for all kids needing to be educated. Let’s see the elderly and little kids as the gifts they are and cherish them in ways that protect their safety and care for their needs. And let us make the effort to be connected to each other – not just on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or Pinterest – but in real life. Let us reach out and make a difference in our world. Our society will be better for it.

Maybe we will fail at these … but isn't it worth the effort to try? And to keep on trying no matter what?

Our society will be better for it.

Gospel Purée, Newtown, Little Kids, and Grace …

My last name is Wiseman. And I have two sisters. We grew up in the church as the three Wiseman sisters. So you can guess which kids were always picked to play the “Three Wisemen” in the annual Christmas Nativity play at church. It drove me insane. All I wanted was to be a shepherd and wear a bathrobe with a towel wrapped around my head – but the directors of all of these plays thought it was adorable to let the 3 Wiseman girls play the 3 wisemen since it would be “so cute.”

As I grew up and went into ministry I got a bit bothered by the purée of Gospel that is the typical church nativity play. We take some shepherds being visited by an Angel from Luke, add some magi and a star leading them to the baby from Matthew, and the inn keeper from out of thin air. And we get a Nativity created out of Gospel purée. It is familiar to most of us – and at the same time it is not quite accurate to the story.

This week, I went to a Christmas Program and nativity play at my son’s parochial school and he played one of the wisemen – once again because the director thought it would be “so cute” for him to play the role. We had an angel visit the Shepherds, Magi visiting from the east (three of course, even though there is no evidence that there were actually three), and an innkeeper who allowed Mary and Joseph to stay in a stable out back for the birth of Jesus because no rooms were available in the inn. And I survived. As a biblically trained minister and scholar of practical theology – I survived.

One reason I survived – with little to no reaction – was that I had just experienced something so moving it made me weep. The little kids had sung a song about peace. They were Kindergarten and First Graders – all dressed up in red, green, and white with their hair (for the most part) just right and their smiles so big they lit up the room. And as they sang, I thought about the 20 little kids who were killed last week in Newtown, CT. The similarities were eerie. There were a few little boys with mussed up hair and little girls with bows and hairclips. There were missing front teeth and fidgety bodies. There were beaming parents with handheld video cameras catching every moment of their song – a song about peace. It was almost too much to bear.

But I heard the words and saw the smiles of the kids and parents and knew we were experiencing a moment of amazing grace. Many of these parents had hugged their little ones more tightly over the last week and prayed for those who couldn’t do that anymore. Many of those kids had asked if they were safe at school and their parents and teachers did all they could to reassure them.

Many of them were unaware why the audience seemed to react more to them than to any other group singing that night – but we all “got it.” We saw the little faces of “our” kids but were symbolically seeing the little ones from Newtown. When the crowd applauded louder than normal – the kids took an extra bow. And we knew why we were so touched. I doubt they did but it was profoundly powerful.

The entire show was full of big smiles, cute kids, one or two out of tune singers, a few forgotten words to songs, parents beaming and catching every second on digital memory cards. And it was a sign that we can continue to live fully – even in the midst of the mess of death and horror – and that God is with us in the midst of our grief.

We prayed for those families and lit a candle in remembrance. But we did not need that to bring the irony of these adorable little kids in front of us to remember but what a gift to witness their spirit and delight.

And at the same time to be reminded that we have to be better … we have to end this horror.