Is Bigger Better?

Have you ever heard the phrase, critical mass? The first time I ever heard that phrase used was in a church staff meeting. The senior pastor looked down at me (this lowly youth director) and pontificated on the how’s and why’s of developing critical mass in order to grow (of course, numerically rather than spiritually) the youth group. Now, I realize this sounds bitter on my part, but it was an absurd conversation then as it would be today for most youth directors.

So, what is critical mass, or better yet, what did that senior pastor really have in mind during that staff meeting? Well, in his defense, he was really trying to communicate that “bigger is better.” He proposed a theory of critical mass that suggested if more people participated in a group; they would (by word of mouth and the nature of group dynamics) bring their friends until a base or core group formed. Now, I had been privy to the “bait and switch” tactics in youth ministry—get the good-looking football player and cheerleader in your youth group to make it “cool” and watch how many more youth would come just to be considered popular or, at least, known by them. I mean, there’s really “nothing new under the sun” in that respect—remember Charles Wesley’s adaptations of drinking songs into hymns back in his day. But at that time, as a youth director, I was much more attracted to the potential quality of youth spirituality than the quantity of how many youth came to youth group on a given Sunday—but, of course, to survive as a staff person in churches you have to do both…something I didn’t learn until later on in the ministry.

It wasn’t until recently that I happened to come across an article on statistical research, which discussed quality research in relationship to critical mass. Please note that I’m not a stats or math person, but I did find the article fascinating—something that gave some credence to my earlier naïveté.

The journal article based its research on the following critical mass premise:

The old notion of critical mass was of some sort of threshold group or department size, below which research quality tends to be poor and above which research standards start to improve. The idea has been extended to, and perhaps beyond, its logical conclusion: that ‘the bigger the group, the better’, and that ‘benefit continues to accrue through increasing scale’ (Kenna & Berche, 2012, p. 22).

What Kenna & Berche soon realized, by way of hybrid sociophysics models and mathematical ones (I won’t bore you with those), that a critical mass number did emerge, but having more researchers above the critical mass number did little, if anything, for the quality of research:

Therefore, statistics and operational research groups should strive to achieve a size of at least N/2 ≈ 9 members, and should be happy if they have over N c ≈ 17 staff. But beyond that, it does not much matter how many staff the group has—more staff beyond the critical number will tend only to increase the quantity of research, but not its quality (2012, p. 25)

How many of our church youth groups today reflect about 10% of the church’s worshipping community? Well, let’s just say, “a lot!” The size of most of those groups, realistically, run anywhere from single digits to low double-digit numbers. And even in those larger groups, subgroups of youth (we like to call them cliques) emerge. This is a perfect example of one of those sociophysics models based on the Dunbar number—highlighting that whenever a group of people exceeds a certain size, it will inevitably fragment into smaller, subgroupings.

So, what is that critical mass number for youth groups? Well, I don’t think the senior pastor I mentioned earlier would care for my analysis, but I’ll give it nonetheless…well, actually, I’ll let Jesus provide the answer: “For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them” (Matthew 18:20). At least, that’s the number I’m sticking to when it comes to “quality” ministry. I mean, wouldn't a confirmation group of two to three youth discussing God's grace, charity, and love be just as important, if not more, to kingdom building work as a triple digit youth group heading to the Rocky Mountains for a ski retreat? Now, I'm not knocking skiing...I mean, who doesn't like to ski?! But, I think you get my point.

Lastly, I would be amiss if I didn’t mention that in Kenna & Berche’s research, they did come to the conclusion that “bigger is indeed better”, with a caveat—communication of the members has to happen in order for the research to be quality research. And I would make the case, communication happens best in smaller, intimate groups.

So…is bigger really better? You be the judge...until then, God bless.


Reference: Kenna & Berche, Statistics of Statisticians: Critical Mass for Research Groups in Significance: Statistics Making Sense (December 2012, volume 9, issue 6, pp. 22-25).

Benedictine or Not? Developing a Rule of Life That Fits You

The following book review is from a seminar reading prep course for McAfee School of Theology:

ref: http://www.amazon.com/At-Home-World-Christian-Classics/dp/1596270268


Margaret Guenther, associate rector at St. Columba’s Episcopal Church in Washington, D.C., shares in, literary grace and style, the applications of the Benedictine Rule for our lives. She highlights the rule from the core of the Benedictine vows: obedience, stability, and conversion of life—each one of which will be discussed later in the essay. Guenther challenges the reader to consider a rule of life that is life-giving and affirming; She suggests that the Benedictine Rule would be a perfect place to begin. Thus, for this essay, we will consider the meaning of a rule as well as Benedictine spirituality as it is known from its core values—its vows.

A RULE OF LIFE

Guenther admits that we follow rules all the time. In fact, we are in need of them—they govern our way of life throughout our personal, professional, and religious lives. Whether we know it or not, we choose these rules for our benefit—what we eat, when and where we exercise, in pursuit of an education, etc. We tend to succumb to them, though we may not always with such a willing heart. But what she challenges us to consider is developing a rule that matters and gets to the heart of what we ultimately are striving for—to know the ineffable…the Holy Other:

A thoughtful rule of life is quite another matter. Even when it deals with the small things in our lives, a rule of life never trivial. It cannot be coerced; it must be voluntary. Prisoners, conscripts to the military, refugees in camps, even the biddable children of my early school days all live under a rule that they have not chosen. A voluntary rule is different; it has a life-giving freedom even when it seems restrictive to outsiders…Making a rule, like devising a trellis, must have something to do with real people trying to get through their days mindfully and fruitfully. The very phase ‘rule of life’ suggests something far removed from modern life, and there is always the danger of romanticizing the past and seeking to live by and unreal and absurd standard that cannot be maintained. A rule of life for the rest of us has to be rooted in the here-and-now; it has to be germane and useful (p. 13).

Marjorie J. Thompson, a Presbyterian minister and Director of Pathways Center for Spiritual Leadership at Upper Room Ministries in Nashville, Tennessee, also suggests that when we begin to think of a rule of life, such as a trellis (a support), we need to think of this as an organic whole from which patterns and rhythms flow in and out of our daily living:

A rule of life is a pattern of spiritual disciplines that provide structure and direction for growth in holiness. When we speak of patterns in our life, we mean attitudes, behaviors, or elements that are routine, repeated, regular. Indeed, the Latin term for ‘rule’ is regula, from which our words regular and regulate derive. A rule of life is not meant to be restrictive, although it certainly asks for genuine commitment. It is meant to help us establish a rhythm of daily living, a basic order within which new freedoms can grow. A rule of life, like a trellis, curbs our tendency to wander and supports our frail efforts to grow spiritually (1995, p. 138).

In other words, a rule of life for the Christian is about intentionally seeking God’s presence within the daily life of the pilgrim. And what Guenther suggests is that the Benedictine Rule provides us with such a starting point.

THE RULE OF SAINT BENEDICT

If one begins to peruse Benedict’s Rule, the first notable characteristic will be its length—seventy-three chapters in all. But under closer scrutiny, the chapters are justified in that they give guidance and direction for communal living. Guenther never really gives a succinct answer as to “why” one should look to the Benedictine Rule as a source or dynamic for developing one's rule of life; though her book implies such reasoning and, more specifically, a nudging of sorts.

I believe Elizabeth J. Canham, a contemporary of Guenther’s and fellow Episcopal priest and writer, provides a clear argument as to why Benedictine spirituality or rule is appropriate for us occidental Christians—providing a way to reflect on our insatiable need to consume:

The Rule of Saint Benedict embodies the conviction that we have all we need—we have enough. Conversely Benedict also tells us that we need all we have, for all our gifts, personal history, and life experiences make up the raw material out of which we are formed in God’s image and grow together in community…Knowing that we have enough takes us out of the never-ending tension created by greed, out of the constant envy of others that causes us to overlook our own riches, and out of the turmoil of unmet desires (1999, p. 13).

In light of Canham’s argument, I find solace in that there just might be a way in which to exit such a maddening existence. An existence and/or tension we all have to face, whether we want to or not. And this is the juncture at which Guenther alludes to the three Benedictine vows—obedience, stability, and conversion of life.

Obedience

Guenther views this vow as mutual obedience—an obedience that is not forceful or heavy-handed but instead is a movement of compromises and respectful overtones within relationships:

True obedience is a gift we bring to each other in love. And it is related—if we trace it back to its Latin roots—to a strong, ordinary little word: audire, to hear. Obedience is to be lovingly present and attentive to another; to hear, truly to hear what the other is saying, with words and sometimes without. We owe obedience to all those with whom we live in covenanted relationships. Hurtful things cannot thrive, but all kinds of good things can flourish when we are carefully attentive to one another (p. 18).

She reminds us that this vow is speaking to our humanness. In other words, we are not made in the image of God as mechanistic beings, though we may like to think of ourselves as such. We each play a role within the unyielding truth that we must be in community with others. And the way in which we respond to others or the lack thereof affects the broader community. Canham describes obedience as persistence:

Sometimes obedience consists of not giving up when efforts to listen to God through scripture seem unrewarding and when abandoning the attempt and opting for a less demanding activity seems easier. I often feel tempted to give up, but on one occasion my inability to focus and my decision not to give up taught me more than I might have understood at a time when I was able to be more attentive. That morning I sat with Bible, prayer book, candle, and strong coffee, trying to be still in the awareness of God’s presence. Beneath me I heard the jarring sound of heavy industrial fans drying out a basement from which six inches of flood water had just been drained. Outside fog blurred the trees, a metaphor for the cloudy muddle through which I tried to pass my attempt to pray. I could not stay focused on scripture, and inner questions escaped me….It was both unrealistic and arrogant to think that I could be as energetically attentive as I would like, and God’s invitation was to rest, let go, acknowledge the imperfection of my prayer, and offer it for God’s redeeming action (1999, pp. 142-143).

This type of persistence segues into the next vow of Benedict’s—stability.

Stability

Guenther describes stability as perseverance. Though this may sound uncannily close to what Canham describes as persistence in the vow of obedience, it is not: “This calls for perseverance, for holding on and hanging in, for making thoughtful choices and staying with them. (p. 20) Guenther further explains:

What might stability look like for today’s ordinary, on-the-go seeker? It might mean returning to the church even when you feel it has run off the rails, when the old rules of your childhood have disappeared along with the ‘Thee’s’ and ‘Thou’s.’ Or it might mean remaining committed to a congregation that seems hopelessly wrong-headed….Commitment to stabilitas demands that we at least give present circumstances a good try before we move on to the greener pasture down the street. Quite probably it too will disappoint, perhaps in new and different ways that we could never imagined (p. 21).

And yet, perseverance is not to be anchored by insecurities and outright fear. For example, we commit ourselves to those old, worn-out institutions because we know, through a reading of the scriptures, a remnant of God’s covenant remains. We persevere because we hold onto the covenant which is ours and God’s. Thus, we are always in the process of what Benedict calls a conversion of life.

Conversion of life

Lastly, Guenther remarks on the conversion of life as a life process. She highlights the fact that our choices and the places we have been and the places we are going form a pattern to the whole of life. And that these places or, better yet, stages in life provide us with nuggets of self-knowledge. Quite frankly, the gifts or charisms from God find their way through our many life choices, whether good or bad.

Guenther also recognizes that this vow of conversion is really a dedication of self to change: “It may be difficult to see that new life is coming, that our letting go and the redirecting of ourselves is movement toward a new life, and that our loss is only apparent—or at least outweighed by our gain” (p. 22). Guenther implies that these vows really constitute a cycle—that each vow tends to pull and tug at the other. Thus, Saint Benedict’s Rule is a dynamic endeavor rather than a static addition to the outdated and outmoded religious bric-a-brac that surrounds most of our lives.

FINAL REMARKS

There is much to glean from Benedictine spirituality. I know that I have been wrestling with the spirit of his vows for the past several months—wondering about the following: “What are my next steps?” “What type of education should I really pursue if any?” “Have I outgrown the church I serve?” “Is there a community out there that will accept me and my family, warts and all?” And I know I will continue to wrestle with these thoughts until they eventually transform into prayers and, hopefully, I will present them to God with a spirit of gratitude.

I have to admit, I am biased in reading Guenther’s work because I have heard her lecture before. And as with any great lecturer and teacher; I, as a student and hearer, wish I could have spent endless hours listening to her wisdom and teachings. In that respect, I am open to hear what God is saying through her writings and her presence. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading the prose of Margaret Guenther. She so eloquently places those nuggets of wisdom within sentence structure, that all can enjoy—laity, clergy, and scholars. She is truly a woman for all seasons.

References:

Canham, Elizabeth J. Heart Whispers: Benedictine Wisdom for Today. Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1999.

Guenther, Margaret. At Home in the World: A Rule of Life for the Rest of Us. New York: Seasbury Books, 2006.

Thompson, Marjorie J. Soul Feast: An Invitation to the Christian Spiritual Life. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1995.

The following interview is with Margaret Guenther as she discusses spiritual direction and/or spiritual companionship:

Aren’t you a Beautiful Creature?

I came across the following poem this morning. If you find this nourishment for your soul, I highly recommend Daniel Ladinsky’s Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West.
I’d suggest reading the poem a few times (taking a minute or two to pause before the next reading), and ask yourself how is God speaking to you through these words…Blessings.

BEAUTIFUL CREATURE

There is a beautiful creature living
in a hole you have dug,

so at night I set fruit and grains and little pots of wine and milk
beside your soft earthen mounds,

and I often sing to you,
but still, my dear, you do not come out.

I have fallen in love with someone
who is hiding inside
of you,

We should talk about this problem,
otherwise I will never
leave you
alone!

-Hafiz


Hafiz (1320-1389) was born in southeast Persia. He had a great spiritual master as his teacher who guided the development of his poetry and the unfolding of his soul. His greatest desire in life was union with God.

Reference: Ladinsky, Daniel. Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West. Penguin Group, 2002. (page 174)

Spiritual Formation is a Family Affair

The following post is an excerpt from my DMIN manual assignment on Christian Spirituality:

In defining spiritual formation, I have to admit my denominational bias in that my religious background or upbringing is in the United Methodist Church—a Wesleyan influence. In that regards, spiritual formation as process is inherent within my theological framework. Though one might believe John Wesley’s evangelical fervor swayed towards camp meetings and the like, he actually thought of spiritual formation in terms of Christian nurture--more specifically, a formation that was family-taught and family-based. Wesley gave two reasons for his congregants as to why religious education or Christian nurture must begin in the home:

A. Christian education must begin in the home because the home represents the first environment the child encounters in life. Since at birth the child’s mind is a tabula rasa, waiting for good impressions to be made upon it by the reception of empirical sensations, whatever happens within the home is crucial to child development. Parents are, therefore, the first instructors, teaching by control of all stimuli from the very beginning….B. Religious education begins in the home because the home is the place where children first exhibit self-will and pride. Education, being the cure of self-will and pride, must necessarily, be provided immediately as soon as there is need for it (Naglee, 1987, pp. 212-213) .

In light of Wesley’s insistence on family as first responders to the faith, so to speak, one recognizes the fact that Wesley is explicit in his understanding of Christian nurture as being a familial or communal experience. And this idea of Christian nurture is, in my opinion, an appropriate underlining principle for the way in which one begins to think about spiritual formation.

M. Robert Mulholland, Jr., provost and professor of New Testament at Asbury Theological Seminary, defines his Wesleyan expression in the following manner: “the process of being conformed to the image of Christ for the sake of others" (Mulholland, 1993, pp. 64-73). And again, it is important to remember that spiritual formation does not happen in isolation. One must recognize that it is the community of faith that provides the language and education with which a person grows in faith maturity. Spiritual formation is an on-going process of learning and serving--a process that begins at home.

References:

M. Robert Mulholland, Jr., Invitation to a Journey: A Road Map for Spiritual Formation. Downers Grove: Inter Varsity Press, 1993.

David I. Naglee, From Font to Faith: John Wesley on Infant Baptism and the Nurture of Children. New York: Peter Lang Publishing Inc., 1987.

Door Theology

The following story is from Bruce Main, the director of Urban Promise Ministries in Camden, New Jersey. Bruce shares what he calls a “door theology” which demonstrates the church’s stewardship towards the Great Commission. This is a wonderful story as we begin to ponder what a new year in ministry will look, feel, and sound like. Although most of us reside in affluent communities of faith, there is still much need around us. All is asked of us is to search with the Holy Spirit’s guidance. And although Bruce’s story relates to youth and children (basically because his demographic consisted of over 50% of youth under the age of eighteen), it still relates to other demographics that may be prevalent in our ministry contexts—singles, senior citizens, the divorced, substance abuse individuals, etc. Most importantly, this story focuses on what is actually happening behind the doors of our churches. Amen and enjoy…

The Holiness of a Broken Door


I once met a Catholic priest who had a fascination with doors. He believed that the front door was the most important part of a church. The door, he claimed, should be something that beckons people to come in. It should be something intriguing, something that ‘whispers the mystery that lies beyond it.’

The door of our church used to be white, shiny, and metallic, smooth and new looking; it could have graced the cover of a church supply catalog. The door was seldom used. As a matter of fact, the door reflected the church that existed inside the door—unused. With only a couple of hours use of its hinges each Sunday, the door had little chance to tarnish its beauty. It just sat there, not living up to its calling as a church door—that is something that is used to allow people to enter a place where the mysterious Divine dwells.

But last week we had to replace the door. Since our rambunctious youth program arrived at the church three years ago the door had changed. The shiny, white metallic finish had been dulled by the continual touching and thumping of dirty hands. There were gouges, dents, and holes in the door created by kids who were late for events and needed to be heard. The bright brass trim around the mailbox had been ripped off. The inner core of the door could now be seen and had begun to spill its contents onto the surrounding sidewalk. Perhaps the brass had been stripped to be sold or taken off in an effort to rob the church. Whatever the case, the fancy trim was gone. All that was left was an ugly, roughly cut metal hole, through which the mail person could shove the mail each day.

Days before the door was replaced, it would hardly open. The only hinge connecting the door to the frame was the top one. And even that hinge had been reset a number of times. The other hinges had long ago been ripped out of their homes and tossed in the scrap pile. As the door was opened, shut, slammed, and propped over the last three years by children, teens, and staff, the door collapsed. Finally the screws gave way, and the wooden door posts disintegrated.

So the door was replaced. The cost: eight hundred and fifty dollars to put in a new frame and metal door. Unfortunately the trustees in our church didn’t share in the same door theology as my priest friend—that a door should create a sense of mystery and intrigue. We got a new, white, shiny metallic door.

Although I grimace over this expense in our budget this year, I do have to chuckle over the fact that we wore out a door. Children broke the door! Not intentionally, but because they wanted to get into the church. Something was happening inside these walls that were calling them off the street to come into this place where God lives. The door had begun to serve its purpose….The more I have thought about our door, the more I have wondered how many churches in America can boast over the fact that they have had to replace a door because of the dents and holes made by young people trying to get in.

But if the church really lives up to its calling, should it not be replacing its doors more regularly? Wouldn’t it be exciting if churches across America all of the sudden had to start ordering custom-made doors to replace all the doors that were being broken. Just think how wonderful it would be if churches had to start hiring special 'door ministers' just to keep door knobs from falling off and hinges from snapping. Right next to Minister of Music and Christian Education Director in the next year’s budget would be 'Door Minister.'

Reference: Revolution and Renewal: How churches are saving our cities by Tony Campolo and Bruce Main

Are you spiritually religious? Religiosity among youth examined

The following is an excerpt from my Master's Project at Clemson University. I began to examine the similarities and differences of the label(s) of spiritual vs. religious in light of the Search Institutes work in the domain of youth spiritual development and with the work done within the National Study of Youth and Religion. What I came up with is that being spiritual parallels and intersects with being religious, but being religious doesn't necessarily mean one is being spiritual--"being religious" tends to be dependent on an institutional system; whereas, "being spiritual" has an interconnected quality that can transcend institutional barriers.
.

Defining Spirituality

When speaking about spirituality, one may be better suited to think of spirituality in terms of a verb rather than an idea or static statement: “One of the basic premises of any spirituality is that our nonphysical selves also thirst….We long to be loved, to love, and to live in a universe characterized by love. Yet we discover by experience that our longings are never completely fulfilled on the human level” (Holt, 2005, p. 1). So, in other words, life experiences have as much to do with our longings to be connected to something other than ourselves—a highly motivational factor with which one finds value and meaning throughout a lifespan. Thus, this perennial, human element forges through the complexities of life:

Spiritual development, then, is an ongoing, dynamic, and sometimes difficult interplay between one’s inward journey and one’s outward journey. It presses us to look inward to accept or discover our potential to grow, contribute, and matter, and to look outward to connect with life, including being in relationship with family, community, the world, and, for many, the sacred, divine, or some form of universal reality (Benson & Roehlkepartan, 2005, p. 20).

It is no wonder that youth express spirituality as being an aspect of the heart, especially if such an interplay highlights one’s inward feelings with one’s life experiences. Benson and Roehlkepartan (2005) go on to state that such an interplay involves at least three processes:

Awareness or awakening. Being or becoming aware of or awakening to one’s self, others, and the universe (which may be understood as including the sacred or divinity) in ways that cultivate identity, meaning, and purpose.

Interconnecting and belonging. Seeking, accepting, or experiencing significance in relationships to and interdependence with others, the world, or one’s sense of the transcendent (often including an understanding of God or a higher power); and liking to narratives, beliefs, and traditions that give meaning to human experience across time.

A way of living. Authentically expressing one’s identity, passions, values, and creativity through relationships, activities, and practices that shape bonds with oneself, family, community, humanity, the world, and that which one believes to be transcendent or sacred (p. 21).

It becomes apparent that when spirituality is used within the framework of youth development, it becomes a multi-layered stratum of experiences and reflections on those experiences that in turn provide an ever-changing stream of consciousness that, in most instances, blur or intimidate youth professional’s understandings of youth spiritual development. Because youth professionals are not sure what the guidelines are on addressing youth spiritual development (much like sexuality), they tend to stay away from either spirituality all together or, at least, labeling activities as such (Pittman, Garza, Yohalem, and Artman, 2005). Such a lack of understanding or clarity perpetuates a superficial understanding of spirituality, if that. But, in all fairness, youth professionals (secular youth professionals in particular) have reason to be cautious when spirituality sounds much more like religious indoctrination. In other words, spirituality or spiritual development is still considered, in many arenas, religious education or catechesis (Strommen, Jones, and Rahn, 2001). It is at this juncture, that the author attempts to define religion.

Defining Religion

The word religion is a peculiar word. In fact, its definition depends upon the lens in which one views religion—through the eyes of the theologian, philosopher, psychologist, historian, anthropologist, etc. And though it has many interpretations, one factor seems to be at the core—religion as a human experience:

Yet all agree that religion has to do with universal life experience and the ways in which sense is made of those experiences and meaning is attached to them. These universal experiences constitute the field from which the perennial human effort to make sense of the world (or deny that sense in some instances) arises: birth, death; joy, sorrow; knowledge, ignorance; success, failure; love, hate; suffering, relief; and body, spirit. This list includes that matters of primary concern to religion are universal, because of the fact that no human anywhere past, present, or future lives without experiencing them (Wiggins, 2003, p. 418).

Thus, religion or religious experience finds its bearings within the constructs of everyday life—the rituals, reflections, meditations, and pauses that give life meaning. But in defining religion as such, the author must take into account how religion has become the embodiment of vast beliefs and values, which have found shape and form throughout various houses of worship—churches, mosques, synagogues, temples, etc. These venues help define a community as well as the individual. So, when one does not wish to become a part of the religious community or hold similar beliefs and values, and yet is making meaning from life experiences, “being spiritual” becomes the default classification for most:

Perhaps most comforting to professionals, parents, and perhaps faith leaders is that the distinction between spirituality and religiosity seems to be clear to young people. Wilson conducted focus groups, interviews, and surveys of adolescents in researching her book A Part of You So Deep. Her findings: ’90 percent of youth said that a person could be spiritual without being religious—a finding consistent with research showing that while interest in organizational religion may dwindle during adolescence, interest in spirituality itself does not.’ Spirituality for these young people was more about finding and maintaining an inner compass than holding a set of shared beliefs (Pittman, et al., p. 32).

If the above-mentioned statement reasons to be true, then the dichotomy of being spiritual or religious is but the negation of religious systems or institutions. And that is a clarion call to all of us that religious institutions have the potential to hinder positive human development.

Within the Protestant Christian Church, the Swiss theologian, Karl Barth, re-emphasized this cautionary bulwark in ubiquitous fashion as the Protestant principle:

The ever-moving searchlight that the Reformation trains on all religion as it warns that religion may be as dangerous as it is necessary…All religion is in daily need of reformation because all religion, in both blatant and subtle ways, seeks to make itself and its creeds, codes, and cults more important than the revelation and experience it is meant to serve and pass on (Knitter, 2005, p. 55).

Even the most rudimentary reading of Church history portrays this divisive nature religion can play within the lives of people; consequently, youth professionals, working with youth of many religions or religious persuasions, may be leery when discussing how religion plays a part in youth development:

Doctrinal distinctions between secular and sacred, reinforces in the United States by (mis)interpretations of the First Amendment religion clauses, have led youth workers to a fearful avoidance of all things religious and spiritual in other than faith-based organizations. The rise of evangelical Christianity in the United States in the 1980s, with its powerful political infrastructure and its passion for youth ministry, reinforced the idea of equating spirituality in youth work with proselytizing. Today residual fear is regularly aggravated by news of growing global fundamentalism in Islam, Judaism, and Christianity (Kimball, 2008, p. 112).

Although there are potential negatives associated with religion in general, the term religion as an embodiment of everyday life experience(s)is much more analogous with the term spirituality. And yet, a spiritual person or young person need not be religious, so to speak.

One final cautionary note needs to be made though. When we discuss institutions such as churches or synagogues, we need to remember that they are "jars of clay"--they are made up of people (like you and me) that exhibit imperfections and,though their intentions may be good, act in such a way that can be a hinderance in our and youth spiritual development. That being said, religious institutions do provide a spring board affect which allows youth to begin a process of developing a religious lexicon and religious symbolism that has the potential to permeate and give meaning to their life experiences. Yes, there is a light at the end of the tunnel for us religious educators. In the face of all that can be negative with religious institutions, we can help youth forge meaning and purpose through the symbols and rituals that we hold sacred and, hopefully, they will too.

Thoughts on the question as to “why” Elizabeth is in seclusion for five months (Luke 1: 24): An exercise in Ignatian Spirituality through Bible reading

Foremost, the Greek word we derive our current meaning of seclusion is defined as “hidden” or “to hide.” And hidden or to hide can be an either/and in terms of a literal or figurative interpretation (W. Mundle, Dictionary of New Testament Theology, Vol. 2). We find examples of its usage in Genesis 3: 8 where Adam and Eve are hidden from God as God walks throughout the garden calling out for them. We see another example of hidden found in the dialogue of Eli and Samuel within Samuel’s call narrative. In the New Testament, the same use of hidden is found in the context of faith (Hebrews 11:23)—the example of Moses being hidden three months after his birth. Interestingly enough, this had nothing to do with being fearful of Pharaoh’s decree.

What we can take from this, linguistically as well as biblically, is that seclusion isn’t the same as what we might think of today as isolation. In fact, being in seclusion seems to be a time of preparedness or anticipation for a sign of God’s promise towards the beneficiary. And, in most cases, that includes the participation of others, or at least, dialogue with God. So, what we read in Luke about Elizabeth (literally and figuratively) provides us with a timeline that John is to be the forerunner of Jesus as well as it speaks to the cultural reality of Jewish womanhood and, in particular, to Elizabeth’s plight:

Barrenness was a triple tragedy for a Jewish woman. It shriveled the hopes of her husband for posterity, sparked taunts from other women when she appeared at the village well, and signified her sin. To be barren was to be out of favor with God and man. To be pregnant was to be blessed....Zechariah’s term ended with the next Sabbath. He headed home, Elizabeth subsequently conceived, and for the five months she remained in confinement. She waited until it was perfectly obvious that she was going to have a baby before she ventured forth to the village well, the social center of the Near East. She had had enough of the taunts of her fellow townswomen (Connick, Jesus the Man, the Mission, and the Message, 1974, p. 111).

Luke goes on to write that within the sixth month (after the annunciation) Mary visits Elizabeth “in haste” (Luke 1: 39) and Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit following the sign of John leaping in her womb (verse 41). Such a sign from God affirms God’s promise to Elizabeth as well as Mary; thus, it may not be a surprise that Mary sings a song of praise (the Magnificat) following such an event.

In addition to what Connick stated about Elizabeth’s pregnancy (see above), I would suggest that she’s in a period of waiting to process and see if this blessing will be fulfilled—meaning that I think of Elizabeth as a very real person within this story, and I think about her as taking on very human characteristics: wondering what others will think about her if she doesn’t come to full term; feeling bad that she would doubt God in the first place; wondering if what she experienced was real or not, even though many thought her husband had seen a vision because of his muteness and possibly deafness in the temple; and should she really wait five months, or any months for that matter, before entering numerous social circles…is this testing God?

Mary’s visit seems to quell any or all of those thoughts and in fully believing (and, yes, a sign is included), Elizabeth’s doubt* transforms into a galvanized faith not only for Elizabeth’s story but also for the world.

*Elizabeth’s doubt is arguable. I’m making this assumption based on my Ignatian reading of this passage. My reasoning for putting doubt into her narrative is because of verse 25: “This is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.” This could be a pronouncement of the blessing she received, much like we find in other narratives of important people throughout the Bible, or could it be that she’s trying to convince herself of such a blessing as well? The pronouncement becomes some sort of mantra—repeating over and over in her head to help keep doubt at bay.