Bread of Life Retreat

Bread of Life Retreat

On the last weekend of February, at Shalom we had a small but enthusiastic group of retreatants enjoying some great weather and wonderful food, while they learnt how to make ‘Pane Shalom’ our signature sourdough bread as well as some meditative prayer styles using the Ignatian spiritual exercises and our Shalom stone labyrinth.

For me this retreat was special because I had the opportunity to come out of the kitchen and help Nick & Fran rewrite and present the retreat into what the weekend proved, is a much better format and experience for retreatants.

We began Friday night after a nice dinner, with a brief introduction and film on bread making which really set the scene well, by looking at the history of bread and how it has become such an important symbol for life and the presence of God in the world. The benefits of the slow fermentation method of sourdough bread making was also highlighted as well as the transformational/spiritual aspects of the processes involved in turning the potential in wheat grains into this amazing food that has become known worldwide as ‘the staff of life

The evening was finished off with a very relaxing breathing  meditation that helped everyone begin to practice mindfulness, before we went to the kitchen to refresh our ‘sourdough starter’, sometimes called the ‘mother’ to prepare for mixing up our bread dough in the morning.

Saturday after breakfast we mixed up our dough with our starter (leaven) and put it away in the fridge to rest. The theme of our retreat was transformation, as bread is a transformational food.

The morning was spent considering the parable of the leaven as we moved from the method of bread making into the metaphor of the leaven working in our dough… as we are ‘enlivened’ by the spirit of God.

During this session we watched a film clip about bread from Peter Reinhart’s fabulous 2008 Ted Talk where he talks about the symbolism occurring during the bread-making processes and explains that,

“all things can be understood on four levels: the literal, the metaphoric or poetic level, the political or ethical level…. and ultimately, the mystical or sometimes called the ‘anagogical’ level.” 

After morning tea we returned to our parable of the leaven and considered it’s meaning while undertaking a meditative walk along the beautiful path of the Shalom medieval christian labyrinth.

During our walk we remembered our life’s journey, our own story and the gifts we have received; the leaven of our lives. Prior to lunch we learnt about other aspects of Ignatian prayer techniques to build upon the prayer experience and to recognise the fact that the Spirit is within me and can talk to me directly and that the Spirit is in those around me and can talk to me through them as well. We are all part of the same vine.

The practice of using our listening books for journaling was explained as well as sacred listening and the art of spiritual conversation that we will be practicing later in the day. Just before lunch we pulled our dough out of the fridge and began the first in a series of hourly gentle stretching and folding…., to build character and strengthen the dough.

Lunch was a lovely meal which we ate in the shade, under the apple trees. After lunch we again folded our bread dough before undertaking an Ignatian exercise called ‘Gifts of the Spirit’. This exercise was about remembering how we are loved by God and reflecting on the gifts that we have received. The gifts we focused upon were love, patience and generosity…so that, as we were putting our love, patience and generosity into our bread dough; Transforming it, … by gentle folding and stretching, ….we were also using this exercise to consider and reflect upon in prayer, how we are blessed with many gifts that we can slowly discover, respectfully nurture and gently stretch to transform us into something greater.  

We finished the day with more folding and then dividing our bread dough, before shaping it into loaves. The shaped loaves were placed into cane bannetons and put into the fridge overnight, ready to bake first thing in the morning.

 

 

 

 

On the last day we all practiced slashing the top of our loaves before placing them into the oven,  onto the hot baking stone. The slashes make sure the bread rises evenly in the oven and don’t burst open while baking.

 

 

 

 

Before morning tea, while waiting for our bread to bake and cool we undertook another Ignatian Spiritual Exercise where we considered how God works in creation as well as within each of us. This was followed with time for journaling, sacred listening and spiritual conversation.

 

 

 

 

After morning tea the final session was conducted with a lovely imaginative contemplation exercise where we use our imaginations to re-create the scene of the last supper and entered the scene to take our place at the table to share the breaking of bread with Jesus.

 

 

 

This was a great way to finish our weekend as we then moved outside and broke our freshly baked bread together under the trees and enjoyed each others company over a long lunch.


John Hansen

What it means to “hold space” for people

What it means to “hold space” for people

Heather Plett, gets to the heart of what it means to ‘hold space’.

As she describes it:

“What does it mean to hold space for someone else? It means that we are willing to walk alongside another person in whatever journey they’re on without judging them, making them feel inadequate, trying to fix them, or trying to impact the outcome.” 

When my mom was dying, my siblings and I gathered to be with her in her final days. None of us knew anything about supporting someone in her transition out of this life into the next, but we were pretty sure we wanted to keep her at home, so we did.

While we supported mom, we were, in turn, supported by a gifted palliative care nurse, Ann, who came every few days to care for mom and to talk to us about what we could expect in the coming days. She taught us how to inject Mom with morphine when she became restless, she offered to do the difficult tasks (like giving Mom a bath), and she gave us only as much information as we needed about what to do with Mom’s body after her spirit had passed.

“Take your time,” she said. “You don’t need to call the funeral home until you’re ready. Gather the people who will want to say their final farewells. Sit with your mom as long as you need to. When you’re ready, call and they will come to pick her up.”

Ann gave us an incredible gift in those final days. Though it was an excruciating week, we knew that we were being held by someone who was only a phone call away.

In the two years since then, I’ve often thought about Ann and the important role she played in our lives. She was much more than what can fit in the title of “palliative care nurse”. She was facilitator, coach, and guide. By offering gentle, nonjudgmental support and guidance, she helped us walk one of the most difficult journeys of our lives.

The work that Ann did can be defined by a term that’s become common in some of the circles in which I work. She was holding space for us.

What does it mean to hold space for someone else? It means that we are willing to walk alongside another person in whatever journey they’re on without judging them, making them feel inadequate, trying to fix them, or trying to impact the outcome.

“When we hold space for other people, we open our hearts, offer unconditional support, and let go of judgement and control.”

Sometimes we find ourselves holding space for people while they hold space for others. In our situation, for example, Ann was holding space for us while we held space for Mom. Though I know nothing about her support system, I suspect that there are others holding space for Ann as she does this challenging and meaningful work. It’s virtually impossible to be a strong space holder unless we have others who will hold space for us. Even the strongest leaders, coaches, nurses, etc., need to know that there are some people with whom they can be vulnerable and weak without fear of being judged.

In my own roles as teacher, facilitator, coach, mother, wife, and friend, etc., I do my best to hold space for other people in the same way that Ann modeled it for me and my siblings. It’s not always easy, because I have a very human tendency to want to fix people, give them advice, or judge them for not being further along the path than they are, but I keep trying because I know that it’s important. At the same time, there are people in my life that I trust to hold space for me.

To truly support people in their own growth, transformation, grief, etc., we can’t do it by taking their power away (ie. trying to fix their problems), shaming them (ie. implying that they should know more than they do), or overwhelming them (ie. giving them more information than they’re ready for). We have to be prepared to step to the side so that they can make their own choices, offer them unconditional love and support, give gentle guidance when it’s needed, and make them feel safe even when they make mistakes.

Holding space is not something that’s exclusive to facilitators, coaches, or palliative care nurses. It is something that ALL of us can do for each other – for our partners, children, friends, neighbours, and even strangers who strike up conversations as we’re riding the bus to work.

Here are the lessons I’ve learned from Ann and others who have held space for me.

1. Give people permission to trust their own intuition and wisdom. When we were supporting Mom in her final days, we had no experience to rely on, and yet, intuitively, we knew what was needed. We knew how to carry her shrinking body to the washroom, we knew how to sit and sing hymns to her, and we knew how to love her. We even knew when it was time to inject the medication that would help ease her pain. In a very gentle way, Ann let us know that we didn’t need to do things according to some arbitrary health care protocol – we simply needed to trust our intuition and accumulated wisdom from the many years we’d loved Mom.

2. Give people only as much information as they can handle. Ann gave us some simple instructions and left us with a few handouts, but did not overwhelm us with far more than we could process in our tender time of grief. Too much information would have left us feeling incompetent and unworthy.

3. Don’t take their power away. When we take decision-making power out of people’s hands, we leave them feeling useless and incompetent. There may be some times when we need to step in and make hard decisions for other people (ie. when they’re dealing with an addiction and an intervention feels like the only thing that will save them), but in almost every other case, people need the autonomy to make their own choices (even our children). Ann knew that we needed to feel empowered in making decisions on our Mom’s behalf, and so she offered support but never tried to direct or control us.

4. Keep your own ego out of it. This is a big one. We all get caught in that trap now and then – when we begin to believe that someone else’s success is dependent on our intervention, or when we think that their failure reflects poorly on us, or when we’re convinced that whatever emotions they choose to unload on us are about us instead of them. It’s a trap I’ve occasionally found myself slipping into when I teach. I can become more concerned about my own success (Do the students like me? Do their marks reflect on my ability to teach? Etc.) than about the success of my students. But that doesn’t serve anyone – not even me. To truly support their growth, I need to keep my ego out of it and create the space where they have the opportunity to grow and learn.

5. Make them feel safe enough to fail. When people are learning, growing, or going through grief or transition, they are bound to make some mistakes along the way. When we, as their space holders, withhold judgement and shame, we offer them the opportunity to reach inside themselves to find the courage to take risks and the resilience to keep going even when they fail. When we let them know that failure is simply a part of the journey and not the end of the world, they’ll spend less time beating themselves up for it and more time learning from their mistakes.

6. Give guidance and help with humility and thoughtfulness. A wise space holder knows when to withhold guidance (ie. when it makes a person feel foolish and inadequate) and when to offer it gently (ie. when a person asks for it or is too lost to know what to ask for). Though Ann did not take our power or autonomy away, she did offer to come and give Mom baths and do some of the more challenging parts of caregiving. This was a relief to us, as we had no practice at it and didn’t want to place Mom in a position that might make her feel shame (ie. having her children see her naked). This is a careful dance that we all must do when we hold space for other people. Recognizing the areas in which they feel most vulnerable and incapable and offering the right kind of help without shaming them takes practice and humility.

7. Create a container for complex emotions, fear, trauma, etc. When people feel that they are held in a deeper way than they are used to, they feel safe enough to allow complex emotions to surface that might normally remain hidden. Someone who is practiced at holding space knows that this can happen and will be prepared to hold it in a gentle, supportive, and nonjudgmental way. In The Circle Way, we talk about “holding the rim” for people. The circle becomes the space where people feel safe enough to fall apart without fearing that this will leave them permanently broken or that they will be shamed by others in the room. Someone is always there to offer strength and courage. This is not easy work, and it is work that I continue to learn about as I host increasingly more challenging conversations. We cannot do it if we are overly emotional ourselves, if we haven’t done the hard work of looking into our own shadow, or if we don’t trust the people we are holding space for. In Ann’s case, she did this by showing up with tenderness, compassion, and confidence. If she had shown up in a way that didn’t offer us assurance that she could handle difficult situations or that she was afraid of death, we wouldn’t have been able to trust her as we did.

8. Allow them to make different decisions and to have different experiences than you would.      Holding space is about respecting each person’s differences and recognizing that those differences may lead to them making choices that we would not make. Sometimes, for example, they make choices based on cultural norms that we can’t understand from within our own experience. When we hold space, we release control and we honour differences. This showed up, for example, in the way that Ann supported us in making decisions about what to do with Mom’s body after her spirit was no longer housed there. If there had been some ritual that we felt we needed to conduct before releasing her body, we were free to do that in the privacy of Mom’s home.

Holding space is not something that we can master overnight, or that can be adequately addressed in a list of tips like the ones I’ve just given. It’s a complex practice that evolves as we practice it, and it is unique to each person and each situation.

If you’re looking for a pdf version for printing and/or passing around to others, you can download it here. You’re welcome to share it, but if you want to re-publish any part of it, please contact the author.


Original Article link : What it means to “hold space” for people, plus eight tips on how to do it well                           – By  on March 11, 2015

Digging Wells or Building Fences

Digging Wells or Building Fences

This is an interesting article by Sheila Pritchard which, while written in 1994, is particularly apt today as all the Christian Churches struggle to remain relevant.

A visitor to an Australian outback cattle ranch was intrigued by the seemingly endless miles of farming country with no sign of any fences. He asked a local rancher how he kept track of his cattle. The rancher replied, “Oh, that’s no problem. Out here we dig wells instead of building fences.””Out here we dig wells instead of building fences.” The implication, I hope, is obvious. There is no need to fence cattle in when they are highly motivated to stay within range of water, their most important source of life. Let’s consider this as a paradigm for a type of spiritual growth which is based on digging deeper wells rather than on building higher fences. To do this we need first to take a little excursus into mathematics.

I promise it will be brief.

The word “set” in mathematics refers to a group of objects which belong together because they have some defined similarity which marks them out. For example a set of all odd numbers would include 1, 3, 5 and 157 but not 2, 4 or 100. Sets can be defined in various ways. For example: in a roomful of people the set of males is usually a clearly recognisable set which could be further divided into subsets of single males and married males. Or we could define a set in terms of age, the set of those under thirty-five; or in terms of knowledge, the set made up of all those who know what the prophet Ezekiel was instructed to do with the hair he shaved from his head and beard (Ezekiel 5).

Or behaviour, the set of those who have not exceeded the speed limit today. It is possible that someone here might have been included in all those sets. On the other hand, any speedy female over thirty-five who doesn’t know Ezekiel intimately will have been excluded from them all.

Obviously the way we define sets determines who or what is included and excluded. Only one further piece of theory is needed. Most sets are bounded sets. In other words, the focus is on the boundary. At 50 kilometers per hour you are within the set of law abiding drivers, at 51 kph you are not. If you turn 35 tomorrow you are within the set of under thirty-fives. If your 35th birthday is today, you are not.However, there is another kind of set where the focus is not on a boundary but on relationship to a central goal. For example, the set of those who are losing weight. There is no boundary defined by a specific number of kilos. Rather, the central goal is weight loss. All those moving in that direction are included in the set. Or take another example, the set of all those whose central relationships are growing stronger in intimacy and communication. Again, the crucial feature of the set is not a boundary but the direction of movement towards (in this case) a relational goal. This kind of set is called a centred set.

So we have bounded sets and centred sets. Or if you prefer stories to mathematics, we have fences (bounded sets) or wells (centred sets).Paul Hiebert, a missiologist from Trinity Evangelical School of Divinity (Deerfield, Illinois, USA) suggests that it makes a great deal of difference to our perspective on evangelism and mission whether we think of Christianity as a bounded set or a centred set.If we take a bounded set view, who qualifies? Where precisely is the boundary? Who is “in” and who is “out”? How much must a person know of doctrine and scripture before we can call that person a Christian? What differences of lifestyle need to be apparent as proof of change? At what point has conversion taken place? These are tough questions.

Hiebert suggests that it is much more realistic and helpful to think of Christianity as a centred set, a set defined by movement towards the centre, the person of Jesus. Now, conversion is the point at which a person turns towards the centre and begins the journey. That new fragile follower of Jesus (about whom he or she may know very little) is as much part of the centred set as is the missionary who told him the gospel story. The fact that the missionary has a degree in theology is irrelevant to defining the set. The fact that they are both moving towards the central goal is what matters. We’ll leave the implications for cross-cultural mission for the moment and turn our attention to the implications for ourselves.

If we view Christianity as a bounded set we will pay a lot of attention to the boundaries. We will have clearly defined parameters as to what constitutes a Christian, usually linked to certain doctrinal statements, understanding of those beliefs, and commitment to them. We will have our ways of determining who is “in” and who is “out”. Another feature of bounded sets is that they are static. Once within the set no further attention to definition or development is needed. To take a non-spiritual example, let’s identify the set of Granny Smith apples. A Granny Smith apple is a Granny Smith apple whether it is ripe or unripe, rotten or shrivelled up. Those factors may be very significant to the consumer of the apple – but they have no bearing on its designation as a member of the set. I leave you to draw your own parallels.

But what if we view Christianity as a centred set? Centred sets, you remember, are created by defining a centre and the relationship of things or people to that centre. All those attracted to the centre and moving towards it are members of the set. All those moving away from the centre are not members of the set. Distance from the centre is not as important as direction of movement. One person can be close to the centre but moving away from it; another may be less close but moving towards it. Although boundaries are not the primary focus of this set, there is a clear distinction between those moving in and those moving out. The primary characteristic of centred sets is that they are dynamic not static. In other words there is always attention to direction of movement. It is “movement towards” that defines the members of the set, not a boundary.

What I am suggesting is that it is both more biblical and more risky to entertain a centred set approach to Christian faith. Centred set Christianity is defined by active, dynamic relationship to Jesus. There is no place in centred-set Christianity for us to shelter behind the fence of theological orthodoxy, denominational superiority, or a verbal assent to gospel values which bears no resemblance to lifestyle. One of Paul of Tarsus’ most striking victories for the early Church was his insistence that the “fence” of Jewish orthodoxy – and in particular, circumcision – should not become a barrier to entry to the Christian community. Paul insisted that faith in Jesus alone was the criterion. And consider Jesus himself and his scorching condemnation of Pharisees in Matthew 23. While affirming that what they taught was orthodox, he says, “Do not follow them because they do not do what they teach” and “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you lock people out of the kingdom of heaven. For you do not go in yourselves, and when others are going in, you stop them.” Or Jesus in the sermon on the mount, “Not everyone who says to me ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my father in heaven.”

Or Jesus in his discourse to the Jews in John 5: “You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that testify of me. Yet you refuse to come to me to have life.” Jesus clearly does not undervalue doctrine or the study of scripture or verbal commitment. But what he does is to indicate that they cannot be used as “fences” to define disciples. The emphasis throughout the gospels is never primarily on what theological understanding people had but on whether they were willing to follow Jesus.

So who is the true disciple – the churchgoing graduate who can defend Christianity against all opponents in a theological argument, or the hesitant, barely literate young woman who comes to the drop in centre but never to a church service? From the perspective of bounded set thinking the answer is obvious. The graduate is clearly “in”. The young woman “out”. But from the perspective of centred set thinking we cannot answer the question without more information. We need to know about the personal relationship of each to Jesus. If the young woman is, however stumblingly, moving towards discovering what relationship with Jesus can mean for her, while the churchgoer is quietly ignoring all aspects of personal commitment and prayer, and moving towards increasing self sufficiency, materialism and disregard for others, what then?

Our purpose is not to theorise about imaginary “others”. The question we need to consider is this: If Christian disciples were no longer to be defined in terms of fences, but only according to their movement towards Jesus at the centre, where does that leave you and me? Let me suggest five implications for our own Christian discipleship:

1. Radical Commitment:  We need to take a new look at what Jesus’ life was really like. It was radical and it was non-conformist. It involved lack of security in physical terms. It was characterised by opposition from the religious establishment and frequent misunderstanding and hardship. It was marked by an absolute priority given to time to be alone listening to God, and by self-giving love that cut across all social and cultural boundaries. Jesus was as much at home with non-Jews and outcasts as with those of his own race and social standing. His friendship was available to those whom others would shun and avoid. I could go on and on – but it is this Jesus the centre of the Christian faith. And if movement towards likeness to him is the goal, we need to be clear about what that commitment really means.

2. Challenging Responsibility Living with wells rather than fences feels very risky at first. Apparently when ranchers introduce cattle which have been used to fenced paddocks into freedom to move around in the Australian Outback, the cattle tend to huddle nervously around the well or water source, fearing to move very far. Fences provide a feeling of security but they also allow a certain degree of complacency. To no longer rely on boundaries which keep me in and others out leaves me exposed and responsible. Now I cannot doze peacefully in the shelter of the fence. I must stay alert and active in my connection to the source of life which alone is my security. And that source of life and security is in Jesus and a living relationship with him, not in a theoretical fence which absolves me from action.

3. Freedom from Defensiveness: Paradoxically, however, the nearer you are to the centre the more freedom there is to explore widely. After a while the cattle on the ranch realise both their security and their freedom and no longer need to huddle. Similarly, a deep relationship with Jesus develops in his disciples a confidence which transcends fearful huddling. It enables them to reach out in ever widening circles of experience and relationship without defensiveness – just as Jesus did. His confidence in who he was in relation to God enabled Jesus to cross boundaries of every kind. Christians who have that kind of freedom from defensiveness and fear seem to attract others to the well also. This kind of freedom is quite different from license or from a grey wishy-washyness. Remember the determining factor is likeness to Jesus – and no one could call him wishy-washy!

4. Dynamic Growth: Another aspect of this freedom is that there is always room for growth. Bounded-set thinking can stunt growth. What often happens at transition points such as adolescence, young adulthood or mid-life, or at some life crisis, is that the previous theological boundary is no longer adequate. And because the focus is on the boundary, the person faced with this uncomfortable fact feels as though the only choice is to “step outside” the boundary. I think many people leave our churches for this reason and are often labelled as having “lost their faith” when in fact what may be happening is very faith-full. The freedom of centred-set thinking over bounded-set thinking is that it allows each of us to expand and explore as each new life experience challenges us. The only criterion is ongoing relationship to Jesus.

Spiritual growth, from a centred-set perspective, is not optional. We all know that in this life we will never come to the end of the process of being conformed to the likeness of Jesus. In bounded-set thinking, it is quite possible to stop moving towards Jesus without any great sense of concern. Whereas in centred-set thinking it is that very movement from “one degree of glory to another” that marks us out as those whose life comes from “the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3.18).

In Philippians 4.10-15 Paul gives his own view of spiritual growth: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind; and if you think differently about anything, this also God will reveal to you.” Movement, development, dynamic growth are at the heart of every stage of a centred set approach to Christian life.

5. Evangelism by Attraction: Evangelism in centred-set thinking is motivated by personal, life-changing experience of Jesus. It focuses on pointing others in the direction of the source of life. It “works” by attraction to the centre. Our lives serve as witnesses to the extent that they contagiously attract others to what has so captivated us. Sadly, some forms of bounded-set evangelism pay more attention to the numbers of people who can be corralled within a particular doctrinal, or even denominational, fence. They do little to attract folk to the Jesus of the gospels.

A good biblical example of centred-set evangelism is the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4.1-26). Her own encounter with Jesus so transformed her that she was freed from defensiveness and fear in such a remarkable way that even those who had previously shunned her were attracted to the source of life she had found.

Are our lives dynamically connected to their source in Jesus and freely and fearlessly crossing boundaries to attract others to the same well? Or have we lapsed into complacent sheltering inside a respectable theological fence which hides our own lack of movement and serves mainly to keep others out?

“Out here”, said the rancher, “we dig wells instead of building fences.”


Article sourced from Radical Faith Website : Digging Wells or Building Fences – by Sheila Pritchard (First published in Reality February/March, 1994)