Rabbit Lent

A GOOD AND SIMPLE IDEA
1. CALL OUT a small group of artists in your community with a generative gift that you sense has been given for the purpose of ministering to the body.

2. OBTAIN copies of Henri Nouwen's  "From Fear to Love: Lenten Reflections on the Parable of the Prodigal son."

3. AGREE to read through the daily Lenten reflection. Allow the reflections to affect your creative work, allow your creative work to affect your reflections.

4. GATHER the called out ones, once a week over the course of Lent. Share how the reflections are affecting your work and your work is affecting your reflections. Critique your work. Make it better, riskier, more honest, more human.

5. OFFER the work to your community on Holy Saturday.

We're stepping into this in my faith community. Since it's such a good and simple idea I thought I'd send it out to friends far and wide. If you step in, let me know. God is raising up a global liturgy, rooted in community and connected by friendship.

Some thoughts: I've used "artistic gift" hesitantly, it may be too constraining. Read through the full post below and you'll get a better idea of the kind of thing you might be looking for as well as a better idea of what I mean when I say "called out ones." Be open. Listen. The Spirit is moving in your community, there are called out ones, you just need to be still enough for long enough to see and hear them. Lastly, while artists could do this on their own, the power of it comes in committing to and carrying it out in community. If at all possible, find at least three people who will commit to this journey together, keep the journeying ones lovingly embedded within the broader community.

 

RABBIT LENT AND VULNERABLE GENERATIVE ACTIVITY
Here's the Lenten practice I propose for this year. Take every instance in which the church might utter "Let's be creative."  and replace it with "Let's open up space for vulnerable generative activity."

Okay, I'll admit it doesn't fall trippingly off the tongue. But before you bail, allow me to explain what I mean by vulnerable generative activity. Perhaps you'll grow fond of it, as I have, in the same way I feel affection for the ungainly underdog who somehow captures the spirit of a thing.

It all clicked into place during a flamenco workshop I attended. [smirk] [giggle] [chortle][snicker] Okay, okay, settle down. Yes, I know I am a middle aged pasty white man. I was introducing a friend to the cultural delights of my city. Can we carry on?

The workshop was great, two dancers, one of whom was my friend Constance, along with Bethany and a guitarist named Ron talked about their story, how flamenco had impacted their faith and vice versa. Constance and Bethany performed a few dances for us and then it was our turn to participate. It went swimmingly as 10 newbies paired up and fumbled and clunked through one very simple movement.

At the end of the workshop Constance and Bethany prepared to perform one last time. Ron had the brilliant idea of doing what traditionally happens at the end of flamenco dances; everyone dances! Yipes. We would form a circle, the two dancers would perform and when they were done we would all take a turns performing the movement we had just learned. Gulp. We formed what seemed to me an unbearably small and intimate circle. In my inside voice I'm thinking Do we have to stand so close? Can we all turn around and face away from each other? Do I have to do this? Am I going to do this?

Some background. I grew up in Evangelical-pseudo-gnosticism. Spirit good. Body bad. Not so much my household as the overarching Evangelical sub-cultural bubble. I've never danced in public. Not kind of never, like really really never. My pseudo-gnosticism, along with a strong introverted bent placed me in a perfect storm of social dysfunction when it came to dance. To call me a wall flower would be an understatement. I was a wall weed, firmly planted against the wall wasn't my preferred habitat, it was my only habitat. Dance is a kind of touchstone for shoddy thinking I've mostly left behind; a crippling self consciousness, a dishonest humility, a deep suspicion of physicality, a cloying discomfort with abandoned expression, a misconstrued understanding of attention-seeking, a retarded understanding of pride. Looking back, it was kind of miserable.

I've experienced a lot of healing in my life, I've regained a lot, particularly as an artist. I can only thank God for his grace and goodness. But I've still never danced, I haven't really had to. It's not part of my story that needed recapturing.

So there I stood, a sickly smile stuck on my face and my inside voice saying "Noooooooo..." in its best Stephen Colbert impression. Constance said she was nervous, and when she is nervous talking about it helps. She shared a simple story. She had come to understand her Heavenly Father not only loved her, but liked her. Not only did he enjoy watching her dance, he was right behind her clapping, shouting GUAPA! louder than anyone. It's that image that allows her to dance.

It was simply and profoundly true. And then there was music and sound and colour and spinning and turning, and there she was living it. Living the vulnerability. We notice a great many things in this world that are simply and profoundly and abstractly true. But we notice precious few things that are simply and profoundly and vulnerably true.

For years I've been telling my friend Stephen Toon he isn't just a gifted worship leader, he's an anointed worship leader. I have this image of Stephen pushing open a set of double doors and striding into the throne room of God. It's something I just can't do. But I can follow Stephen in. Because of many conversations Stephen and I have had I know that worship leading isn't a cake walk. It is a vulnerable undertaking and at times he struggles with baring himself so completely. That's when I give him genuine thanks for what he does. It isn't striding through the doors I'm able to follow, it's the complete vulnerability of the act I'm able to follow. Yes, he's skilled and gifted and works his ass off to hone his craft. But it's in stepping forward and laying it all on the line in complete vulnerability that he leads. Vulnerability isn't just a willingness to reveal ugly truths about ourselves, it's being the first one to extend a hand, being the first one to say "I love you," being the first one to risk getting hurt. An artist's vulnerability will lead to a certain amount of skill, but the vibrancy of their art comes from revisiting the vulnerability that drew them to their art form in the first place.

Back to flamenco. Once Constance shared her story I knew I could step into the circle; had to step into the circle. It became an act of obedience, "I'm giving you abundant life, take it."

That's when it all clicked into place. Vulnerable generative activity. I suddenly saw that what just happened in the flamenco class, what Constance did was the exact same thing Stephen does. I had reduced it down to "worship leading" and had narrowed that down further to "worship leading through song." Making something of the world in a vulnerable way is as wide as the world and all the people in it.

I'm starting to see how important leading through vulnerable generative activity is. When my friend Erika reads one of her poems to our community she stares rejection in the face and gives it a kick in the balls. By writing a poem she can step into "the way things really are" and there's lots of people who just can't do that, but they can follow her through. They're never going to be poets, but following Erika through helps them step into "the way things really are" in their own small ways. When Tanya gives someone a hug she risks being pushed away, but she leads into giving and receiving love, others can step into giving and receiving love in their own small ways. When Matt utters his profound sound that's a mix between "oh" and "ah" but more raw and is pure wonder he risks looking silly, but he leads into being open to the mystery and awe of God, others can step into being open in their own small way. I could go on, but you get the picture, we all lead each other through vulnerable generative acts big and small.

"Okay, great." you say. "What does this have to do with Lent? You mentioned Lent, at the beginning. Remember? What is the point of all this?" Here it is then, even though we all lead each other in vulnerable generative acts big and small, I believe there are gifted ones, anointed ones—call them poets, musicians, painters, dancers, writers, speakers, actors, photographers, film makers, creatives, artists— who are called out to lead into vulnerable generative activity. I believe the church is in desperate need of the voice spoken by these called out ones. I believe these called out ones are in desperate need of space in which to speak.

So that's why the Lenten practice I propose for this year is taking every instance in which the church might utter "Let's be creative." and replace it with "Let's open up space for vulnerable generative activity."

Here's what we're doing as a community at Mosaic in Vancouver Canada. It's really simple and maybe you'd like to join in.

It all started with those crazed flamenco dancers. Constance is going to get together with Bethany and Ron once a week over Lent to practice a dance of lament. At the same time they are going to go through Henry Nouwen's daily Lenten reflections called "From Fear to Love." (It costs $2.00 here in Canada.) When they get together they'll talk about how the daily reflection is influencing their creative work, and how their creative work is influencing their daily reflection. Then on Holy Saturday they are going to perform the dance of lament for our whole community. So that's where it starts, with three people and a simple idea.

The circle widens: At the same time our broader community is going to do the same thing. We've talked to a few people who we feel are called out ones and asked if they would commit to this Lenten practice of following Nouwen's daily reflections, allowing it to knead itself into their creative work, meet once a week to talk about it, and share the result with the body on Holy Saturday.

The circle widens again: I'm also going to share this simple idea with a few faith communities here in Vancouver. If they want to join in, great. They can carry it out how ever they'd like. If some of them do join in we'll be able to exchange notes afterwards and perhaps pass around the artistic results in various ways.

The circle widens yet again: Lastly, I'm throwing this simple idea to you. Join in, give it a try, see what happens. I'm convinced some amazing life giving things will come of it. Afterwards we can come together, virtually or in the flesh, and be convinced all over again that God is good and God is great.

p.s. Why "Rabbit Lent"? I wanted this to be simple and approachable, this year only, for now. But I didn't want to use a date. 2011. See. Boring. According to the Chinese calendar, which you can't help but pay attention to in Vancouver because it's yet one more chance to celebrate and eat, this year is the year of the Rabbit. I sort of liked "Lent in the year of the Rabbit" which got shortened to "Rabbit Lent," and it stuck. I like it.

 

 

Posted via email from The Broken Wing