I like to read fairly broadly. I figure if I only read things in my field of interest or from people with whom I agree, I will learn very little. I keep telling students, I am more likely to be provoked to think if I read someone I don’t understand or don’t really like. Then I am forced to do the hard work of figuring out what I want to think and hold true for myself.
Recently, I was reading an article from a Catholic periodical. I like reading things from a Catholic perspective, because I respect so much of what they have to say and, yet, reading this material usually has the effect of reminding me why I am a Quaker. Oddly, I can jump to the head of the line to tell you all about the shortcomings and stupidities of Quakers! But they are my tribe, so that is where I hand my hat and call home.
The article was by Michael Sean Winters, whom I don’t know, but I do read him regularly and like what he says. Most of the article is irrelevant for what I want to reflect on and so I am going to rip out of context one of his sentences and take it in the direction I want to go. At the end of his article, he pens these two sentences. “Crises create fissures, wash away well-worn paths, overturn established ways of doing things. They create openings through which both wonderful new things emerge and from which new evils also rise.”
There are all sorts of crises. It can be the pandemic; it could be the death of a loved one. Job losses often provoke a crisis. People have crises of faith, trust and confidence. I suppose you could have a crisis over almost anything that you hold dear. A crisis typically leads to some fear and usually evokes grief. Grief is nothing more than deep sadness over something that is lost. Sometimes crises make us mad and that anger can make us frustrated or volatile. The range is seemingly endless.
I was very interested in how Winters talks about what crises do. They create fissures. Students might not know the word, fissure. It means a break, tear, or gap. A crisis breaks us up. It can tear us up. Usually, it creates a hole in our soul. It hurts.
A crisis also washes away well-worn paths. We all know that a hard rainstorm can mess up the trails we have created in the woods or elsewhere. We all know that when path is used as an image or metaphor, it means we know what to follow. A path is what folks walk. When a crisis comes, the way is not always clear anymore. We don’t know where to go…how to act. Without a path, we can get lost.
Finally, Winters tells us a crisis overturns established ways to doing things. Whatever is normal and routine is blown out of the water. A crisis can trash tradition. It doesn’t work anymore. This can lead to depression or even despair. We have lost our moorings and don’t know where to turn. How we used to do things no longer matters or makes no sense anymore. I could give examples from my own life and so could you.
I love the way Winters turns the corner. He moves from what I have called crisis to creativity. This is not a necessary move, but one that is usually open to us. In the first place, he observes that a crisis creates openings. To me this is a rich image. I was intrigued he actually used the plural, openings. Too often, I hear folks talk about not knowing the way out of a problem or crisis. Maybe there are multiple possibilities---or ways---to move beyond the crisis.
When I imagine an opening, I see some light or, at least, the dawn of light. Now there is a way. Openings provide a sense of direction---offering hope for movement out of a crisis. I am not there yet---but there is now hope. However, it is important also to recognize that an opening in and of itself does nothing for me. Unless I move in the direction of the opening, I am still in the same place. I have to make it happen.
I also appreciate the caution that Winters now offers. These openings provide two possibilities. The first possibility is very good. He tells us the openings give us wonderful new things that will emerge. These can almost seem like gifts. Good things contrast sharply with the crisis stuff we deal with. There is something about which to cheer!
But Winters also warns us, new evils can also come through these openings. So be careful. Be careful what you create or invite in from these openings. For example, Hitler created concentration camps from the new opening of the German economic crisis from WW I and its aftermath.
These openings allow you a chance for creativity. This is the upside or other side of the crisis. It is not unusual for creativity to be birthed in a crisis, although none of us would choose crisis to become creative. But the good news is, we will be afforded that creative chance. And this is especially true for all of whom in faith are confident God’s Spirit is in the mix with us.
Recently, I was reading an article from a Catholic periodical. I like reading things from a Catholic perspective, because I respect so much of what they have to say and, yet, reading this material usually has the effect of reminding me why I am a Quaker. Oddly, I can jump to the head of the line to tell you all about the shortcomings and stupidities of Quakers! But they are my tribe, so that is where I hand my hat and call home.
The article was by Michael Sean Winters, whom I don’t know, but I do read him regularly and like what he says. Most of the article is irrelevant for what I want to reflect on and so I am going to rip out of context one of his sentences and take it in the direction I want to go. At the end of his article, he pens these two sentences. “Crises create fissures, wash away well-worn paths, overturn established ways of doing things. They create openings through which both wonderful new things emerge and from which new evils also rise.”
There are all sorts of crises. It can be the pandemic; it could be the death of a loved one. Job losses often provoke a crisis. People have crises of faith, trust and confidence. I suppose you could have a crisis over almost anything that you hold dear. A crisis typically leads to some fear and usually evokes grief. Grief is nothing more than deep sadness over something that is lost. Sometimes crises make us mad and that anger can make us frustrated or volatile. The range is seemingly endless.
I was very interested in how Winters talks about what crises do. They create fissures. Students might not know the word, fissure. It means a break, tear, or gap. A crisis breaks us up. It can tear us up. Usually, it creates a hole in our soul. It hurts.
A crisis also washes away well-worn paths. We all know that a hard rainstorm can mess up the trails we have created in the woods or elsewhere. We all know that when path is used as an image or metaphor, it means we know what to follow. A path is what folks walk. When a crisis comes, the way is not always clear anymore. We don’t know where to go…how to act. Without a path, we can get lost.
Finally, Winters tells us a crisis overturns established ways to doing things. Whatever is normal and routine is blown out of the water. A crisis can trash tradition. It doesn’t work anymore. This can lead to depression or even despair. We have lost our moorings and don’t know where to turn. How we used to do things no longer matters or makes no sense anymore. I could give examples from my own life and so could you.
I love the way Winters turns the corner. He moves from what I have called crisis to creativity. This is not a necessary move, but one that is usually open to us. In the first place, he observes that a crisis creates openings. To me this is a rich image. I was intrigued he actually used the plural, openings. Too often, I hear folks talk about not knowing the way out of a problem or crisis. Maybe there are multiple possibilities---or ways---to move beyond the crisis.
When I imagine an opening, I see some light or, at least, the dawn of light. Now there is a way. Openings provide a sense of direction---offering hope for movement out of a crisis. I am not there yet---but there is now hope. However, it is important also to recognize that an opening in and of itself does nothing for me. Unless I move in the direction of the opening, I am still in the same place. I have to make it happen.
I also appreciate the caution that Winters now offers. These openings provide two possibilities. The first possibility is very good. He tells us the openings give us wonderful new things that will emerge. These can almost seem like gifts. Good things contrast sharply with the crisis stuff we deal with. There is something about which to cheer!
But Winters also warns us, new evils can also come through these openings. So be careful. Be careful what you create or invite in from these openings. For example, Hitler created concentration camps from the new opening of the German economic crisis from WW I and its aftermath.
These openings allow you a chance for creativity. This is the upside or other side of the crisis. It is not unusual for creativity to be birthed in a crisis, although none of us would choose crisis to become creative. But the good news is, we will be afforded that creative chance. And this is especially true for all of whom in faith are confident God’s Spirit is in the mix with us.
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