Reading Challenges and the Lens of Faith

"Books" by Vicente CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 on Flickr

    This week, the Canada Reads 2022 booklist was released. I enjoy these discussions; where the works of Canadian authors are championed by Canadian readers.

    I am the type of person who will go out and read such books, taking their position on the list as an invitation and recommendation. Most booklists or reading challenges pique my curiosity and fire up my literary engine. Whether it’s a library challenge or a book club selection, I enjoy being challenged with the opportunity to explore new ideas, new genres, new voices, new perspectives. And, as a bookworm, I always enjoy a new recommendation!

    Reading something new broadens our horizons.

    We may like, we may dislike, we may be indifferent – but in trying, we have exposed ourselves to a different artistic expression.

    Opening ourselves to open the covers of a new-to-us genre brings us gently outside our comfort zones and expands our horizons.

    Reading a ‘banned book’ invites critical thinking (who is trying to ban this book, and why?)

    Engaging someone whose views differ from our own can increase our knowledge and our empathy – and thus connection to others.

    Intentionally learning from an author in a different context (geography, language, political leanings, etc.) invites us to deepen our reflective self-awareness.

    So the more we encounter through literature, the more we are being given tools to use to engage with the world around us, in meaningful and helpful ways.

    Our reading can be for a number of reasons: escape from reality, emotional boosting, distraction from daily stressors, just passing time – whatever our reason, the benefits are great.

    And: as people of faith, we can apply these lessons to our religious experience. We can practice critical thinking with theological texts; we can increase our scope with authors of colour or gender or location (not all Christian theology was written by dead white guys in the northern hemisphere).         And when we increase our exposure, we increase our awareness of the family of God.

    So let’s read: some favourites, something new, something unexpected, whatever.

    For we never know when and where we’ll be surprised by the presence of God’s Good News.

The Name within a name

While Shakespeare’s Romeo claimed that “that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”, we know that names are, in fact, important.

Names matter. How we use them matters.

For names convey more than a simple collection of letters; just as we as individuals are more than a collection of parts.

The names we use convey our personhood.

The pronouns we use express our identity.

The nicknames we use speak of connection.

The greetings we use, the manner of speech, the vocabulary and syntax and grammar – it all presents a format of relationship.

We show respect and dignity by getting names and pronouns correct and accurate, by communicating in with appropriate manners. We may need a few tries to learn or re-learn proper pronunciation or preference, but it is time well spent; and we appreciate the patience others extend when we fumble.

When we apply this to our faith, we recognise that names also speak of relationship with God. Our scriptures are full of people and places where the name tells us about character or activity; our prayers communicate language rich in tradition and rhythm that can soothe (or disquiet) our souls.

Our relationship with God is rich in relationship; we share a history, we enjoy a current connection, we anticipate future engagements. And we recognise that this relationship is different than any other we have; for it is with the divine.

And so we name God differently. Whatever word we use, our spirits connect in a different manner than how we relate even to our most beloved here on earth.

Leonard Cohen writes: “This is the way we summon each other, but it is not the way we call upon the Name. … How beautiful our heritage, to have this way of speaking to eternity, how bountiful this solitude, surrounded, filled, and mastered by the Name, from which all things arise in splendour, depending one upon the other.”

Perhaps a sign of our spiritual maturity will be when we use names with one another in this earthly realm, with the same gentleness, beauty, and reverence that we save for The Name; for within each person before us is a spark of the divine, waiting keenly, patiently, to be called instead of summoned.

"A Spatula?"

A spatula lifting a puzzle segment

A while back, while working on a jigsaw puzzle with a friend, she asked for a spatula. I’m sure my confusion was evident on my face – we were working on a puzzle, not on dinner. However, it was easy enough to head to the kitchen for the tool (after confirming that I had correctly heard her request - a spatula?)

Now, my friend and I have different approaches to jigsaw puzzles anyway – I start with the border, having already put the interior pieces right-side up in trays. My friend opens a box, grabs some pieces, and starts finding connections. Both methods work; they’re just different.

So knowing our different ways of seeing the puzzle, I was curious to see how a spatula was going to play in. She had been working on some small segments of the puzzle while I was working on the border. Knowing the approximate location where her pieces would land, she used the spatula to lift the portion into the whole. Such an obvious and simple way to integrate our efforts!

Life can be like this: we can all be working in our own ways to shine light, to share faith, to do good in the world. We see things differently, and we work on different things and in different ways. But with healthy and effective communication and intentionality, we can find ways to come together to make a difference, to contribute to the whole, to share of our efforts.

It likely will not use a spatula for each task, but the tool for cohesion may be equally simple and unexpected. We may not feel that we are doing a huge amount at any given time, but every contribution augments the whole. We may not see what everyone else is doing, or when, but we trust that good is happening; and we know that our contributions may not always be seen.

But when we do what we do for the sake of goodness, we are committing to the big picture. When we are willing to think outside the box for ways to bring our contributions together, we are committing to the community. When we live out our faith to the best of our ability, we are committing to shining the light of Christ in the world.

It may not be a lot, but it matters. As Desmond Tutu said: “Do your little bit of good where you are; it's those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.”

Resolving Resolutions

As we ponder (or have pondered) what our New Year’s Resolutions may be, the topic invites us to reflect on the “me” of the past, and anticipate the potential of “me” in the future.

This year, I‘ve seen some folks reflecting on how they wanted to set their expectations quite high for themselves for 2022, to get out of the 2021 rut. Others have commented on the need to set the bar really low so it’s attainable… even if we learn more COVID-inspired Greek this year. (ugh!)

My hope is that in the time of reflection, we will set any resolutions to be meaningful, contextual, and appropriate. For some folks, an ambitious set of resolutions may be inspiring and encouraging; whereas for another person too-lofty goals may be paralysing and depressing. We have to know ourselves, and be honest with ourselves, before we can settle into a resolution that will stick.

My next hope is that in our resolutions, they answer the “why” of it – what is it that is unresolved in us from the past that we wish to be resolved in the coming year? Will our lives be better for it, and is that part of our intention? If not, we can still articulate an intention (like steps walked in a day or books read each month) but recognise it as a habit or a goal – these are different from each other, and from resolutions.

And finally, in my own goals and resolutions for the year, I aspire to be gentle with myself, and to know what is practical and what is enough. My book-reading goal, for example, has been at the same number for several years – and I do not feel the need to change that: for in considering my time and love of reading, it is a number and format that fits with my lifestyle and my preferences. It is enough; I have nothing to prove to anyone else, it brings enjoyment, it helps enrich my life. It does not define me, or my worth; I am enough (but I'm still going to read!)

Whatever your resolutions, I pray they will be helpful and fun, that they will be a happy part of your 2022, that your genuine self will experience a fulfilling of desire.

Happy New Year!