Mark 1:14-15 “Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

Praying. By Mary Oliver

It doesn’t have to be

The blue iris, it could be

Weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

Small stones; just pay attention, then patch

A few words together and don’t try

To make them elaborate, this isn’t

A contest but the doorway

Into thanks, a silence in which

another voice may speak.

I was a flabbergasted to learn that before I could be ordained by our denominational parent, the United Church of Christ, I was required to take and to pass a psychological evaluation. So one wintry day I had to arrange for the church secretary to administer this test to me; a three hour test that attempted to probe my deeper psyche. It was the easiest and oddest test I have ever taken in my whole life. I still remember two of the more puzzling questions; have you ever stood on a rooftop and considered jumping off? And my favorite, “Do you like mannish women?” What does that even mean?? I wisely answered, “No” to the first and “sure” to the second; but still…At the time I had no idea how that might have affected my overall fitness for the ministry.

As I look back now, and examined a little more closely both the make-up of my seminary cohort and the horror inflicted upon many an unsuspecting person at the should-be trusted hands of their clergy persons, I can understand why we wouldn’t want to let just anyone into this club of ordination. It was good that they (the powers that be) should try to weed out the weirdo’s; although I’m here to tell you there are plenty of odd one’s still out there that made it past the gates of psychology.

One of the deeper purposes of requiring would-be ministers to scrutinize their desires to go into the ministry is to invite those folks who were second-career clergy to really take some time to examine their motivations. Over half of the people ordained in the past 25 years are people who have defined themselves as “second career clergy.”  There were definitely some folks whom I believed were acting on a messianic complex. Those who believed their gifts weren’t properly appreciated in the business world, who felt they would be better served to exact their gifts upon the congregational masses that perhaps needed to look to him or to her for proper moral and theological guidance. These are the folks who are baffled when they can’t find a call; or who somehow believe it is the congregation’s fault that they are not well liked. (you do like us, don’t you?)

I’m also happy to report that there were plenty of people, the vast majority of second career clergy, really, who were acting on a strong desire to do and be a better me; meaning they felt a strong pull to live a life of love and of service to and with God and with others, and they had the courage and the confidence to make life altering decisions, and even put their financial stability at risk by entering seminary. And a lot of those folks are doing some incredible work in churches and with other not-for-profit organizations across the world.

I remember hearing the story of one friend as he described his journey to ministry. According to him, he had a very successful career in the business world. But he wasn’t feeling satisfied with the life he was living. He woke up one morning and asked himself some very dangerous questions.  “Am I doing what I am called to do? Am I living into my best me? And if I am NOT, then what do I need to do to change that?”

With his family’s approval, he dropped everything and went to the seminary. Now he runs a really cool program called, “Renewal in the Wilderness” where he offers spiritual retreats in places like the Boundary Waters of Minnesota; while also working as a chaplain at a retirement village. He has found his calling and feels that his life choices have offered him a more worthwhile way of living. He is happier; and as a result his life feels more enriching and fulfilling than it did before.

Let’s be clear…I do NOT believe you need to join the clergy team if you’re seeking more meaning in your life (although we do have an opening…); but I do think it is worthwhile for all of us to ponder those questions he asked himself; in fact those might be the most important question we can ask ourselves every once in a while.

Am I doing what I am called to do? Am I living into my best me? And if I am not, what do I need to do to change that?

Obviously, clergy people aren’t the only ones in this world who live a life of what one might call a calling. Consider that some of the most influential people in our lives are those folks who surprise us with spontaneous moments grace and grit, care and kindness who are on the opposite side of the ministerial potential spectrum.

I called the woman who cut my hair for YEARS my hairapist. She knew everything about me; she was a wonderful sounding board for me to vent my fears and frustrations to; she knew when to affirm me in my weakness and to challenge me in my arrogance. She was like grace to me; and she was somehow able to make me feel better about my life and my self whenever I left her appointments. Not only did she have a gift at making people look fabulous, she was a gifted listener.

I’ve had days that have begun with a cloudy outlook turned around by cheerful plumbers, intuitive waiters and helpful hardware folk. One of my favorite saints of my life is the older man who works at the gas station just up here at 5^th and 13^th. He has a knack for bringing a smile to my face every time I’m in his store. Whether with a wisecrack or him spontaneously breaking into song, he is a man who is influencing his surroundings with life and love and positivity that even my most curmudgeonly self cannot remain immune too. Living a meaningful life does not require fancy letters next to our name or extra 0’s in our paychecks. Living a meaningful life is about much more than that.

Imagine how affirming life would be if we based the success of our days on how many people were able to make laugh, how well we were able to be fully present with a co-worker; or how many books were able to read with our child before they fell asleep at night? What if our agenda for the day included getting at least 5 people to respond to a verbal greeting; and we gave ourselves extra credit if we got them to make eye-contact?

Ahh, but life gets cloudy with a chance of meatballs…There are bills to pay, supervisors to impress, clients to woo, Papers to publish. And when the bills don’t get paid, or when the supervisor is a total jerk, or when the clients never do call, or the words can’t formulate on the page, it’s hard to find the laughter, to listen well or to have the patience when putting the child to bed. And this is what lies at the heart of the problem of the human condition, according to Thomas Keating.

Father Keating, believes that we have been duped. We have been duped by a destructive narrative that preys on our baser instincts, making us believe that public affirmation, rich bank accounts and material items are what define our self worth. And when we fall victim to this false narrative the gratifying depths of life (the places where true fulfillment and worth reside) begin to evaporate. And we stunt any opportunities for a more true and genuine feeling of contentment.  If we can’t see past the bank accounts or Facebook likes, we are destined for disappointment.

For him, the most profound and important message coming from the Christian tradition comes from the Gospel of Mark in the very first words uttered by Jesus in the earliest narrative. “Repent.”  That’s a big word and it carries a lot of weight. Repent has a high-churchy connotation (which is appropriate when we’re talking about breaking free from deeply ingrained systems of belief); but Keating has a nice, invitational definition of repentance that I think you can appreciate. According to Keating, “To repent is not to take on afflictive penances like fasting, vigils, flagellation, or whatever else appeals to our generosity. It means (simply) to change the direction in which you are looking for happiness.”

These past two week, at the invitation of my friend the Rabbi Michael Joseph, I attended both Rosh Hashanah and the Yom Kippur services at Temple Shir Shalom.  These are two of the holiest of holidays in the Jewish tradition. The first, Rosh Hashanah is the celebration of the arrival of the Jewish New Year. And it is a celebration, but it is also a call to preparation, because Once the new year arrives, the faithful have 9 days to make amends with all the people they have wronged in the year prior. These are the people whom we have somehow neglected or offended; whether in thought, word, or deed. One is supposed to make peace and to reconcile before the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur arrives. And the service of Yom Kippur has a very different feel.

During the service of Yom Kippur there is both sadness and celebration.

The sadness comes during the time of confession. There are long lists of wrongs; misdeeds that the community recites together and asks forgiveness for.

We ask forgiveness from thoughts, words and deeds inflicted upon our parents when we have disrespected them, we ask forgiveness for thoughts, words and deeds for the times we have spoken to our spouses in anger, we ask forgiveness for misdeeds when we sacrificed our honesty for self-service in our workplace, etc.

Some it’s easy to say, “that wasn’t me” but others cut like a knife. The list of things for which we ask forgiveness was pages and pages long.

It felt good to recite these requests in the company of the congregation; and when it was all over there was a stillness that hung in the air.

It felt as if my life were sorted out before me, and I could see all those little betrayals to my ideal and best self; my brokenness, my wounded-ness, my greed, my guilt, my pride and shame. And then the quiet voice of the Rabbi spoke, and the affirming words of God are spoken to us almost as a gentle chiding, saying, “I have loved you and always loved you, and will always love you until the ends of time, for you are mine, you are my creation, and my people, and in me you are forever blessed.”

And with the conclusion of Yom Kippur, the New Year can truly begin.

For Thomas Keating, for our Jewish sisters and brothers, and maybe even for you to, this is the heart of the spiritual experience; the beautiful understanding that repentance leads to renewal.

Taking an inventory of all the important relationships I have in my life—seeing them splayed out there on the pages in front of me allowed me to see what value I truly have and where I should look to increase it. And after the affirmations and confessions were completed, something opened up a deeper feeling inside of me; gratitude. If to repent is to change the direction in which we look for happiness, then gratitude is the grounding from which we should start.

It doesn’t take much. Just a cobbled together word of thanks, as Mary Oliver suggests when she says in her poem, just enough to invite “a silence in which another voice may speak.”

All of us want meaning in what we do; whether that’s cutting hair or cleaning drains or serving sandwiches. Everyone wants a role in improving the lives of others; and when we can find that, and define it, it becomes an important part of us; A defining characteristic in our understanding of self-worth; detached from any of the false pretenses that have clouded our vision from before.

So why not use our occupations as the therapy we desire to find fulfillment in our lives? Why not use our gifts and talents and positions and titles to craft a more beautiful moment right now? What is holding us back from being our very best selves, and allowing that to be the happiness that we seek? What do you want to be when you grow up?

There is more to life than whatever work related woes might weigh us down. There are better venues for us to donate our precious reserves of care and concern too. There is relief in knowing that everyone has made mistakes and carries regrets; that perfection is a false idol and deserves no worship at all. And there is relief in knowing that even in our most broken and battered states of dysfunction, there is always a whispered promise of redemption and renewal.

Amen.

I’ve been doing a spiritual practice this week called, “The Examen of St. Ignatius.”

I don’t know what it is with me and monks this week, but whatever… This is the spiritual practice that Dorothy Day did, and she’s one of my heros’ of faith. Deeply flawed, profoundly human, incredible servant who was one of the primary instigators for the Catholic Worker movement.

Anyway, the Ignatian Examen is five simple steps that I will take you through as our closing prayer. It’s like a mini, daily Yom Kippur.

So I invite you to a place of prayer and reflection.

Step one: give thanks for the benefits you have received. The roof over your head, the floor beneath your feet. The relationships you cherish; the opportunities that made you you.

Step two: ask grace to know my sins and forgive them as Ignatius would say, or to Beg for Light and the grace to see my mistakes clearly as Dorothy Day would say. Consider your sharp words or thoughts. Consider your harmful actions and deeds. What made you so angry? Frustrated? Or Prideful?

Step three: Take an account of my soul from the hour of rising to the present, through thoughts, words and deeds. Consider every interaction with every person, place or thing you’ve seen since the time you got up. What faces come to mind? What words were exchanged? What blessings have you received? Or where could you improve your thoughts, words or deeds?

The fourth is to ask pardon of God for my faults; or as Dorothy said, Repent.

and finally, the fifth, to resolve, with God’s grace, to amend my mistakes.

And if you are so inclined, you can join me in the Lords Prayer, beginning with Our Father, Our Mother.