Ex. 2
11 One day, after Moses had grown up, he went out to where his own people were and watched them at their hard labor. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his own people. 12 Glancing this way and that and seeing no one, he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. 13 The next day he went out and saw two Hebrews fighting. He asked the one in the wrong, "Why are you hitting your fellow Hebrew?"
14 The man said, "Who made you ruler and judge over us? Are you thinking of killing me as you killed the Egyptian?" Then Moses was afraid and thought, "What I did must have become known."
15 When Pharaoh heard of this, he tried to kill Moses, but Moses fled from Pharaoh and went to live in Midian, where he sat down by a well.
Ex. 3
1 Now Moses was tending the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, and he led the flock to the far side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. 2 There the angel of the LORD appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up. 3 So Moses thought, "I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up."
I ended last year very tired. As I am sure we all did. The last 6 weeks of every semester are like you are going down a mountain at breakneck pace to make the finish line, and although there is the natural momentum of going downhill, it takes a lot of muscle to keep on the path and not fall due to the sheer steepness of the decline. But for several reasons, I was more tired than normal. I think that ending a year usually leaves us a little post-partum anyway. You are glad to be done the intensity, but all that energy expenditure leaves you depleted and tired. I felt really weary in my soul. You know how when you run (well, I try to run as little as possible), but when you do run and at the end of it, you can feel super tired but well. Or you can feel like you might pass out and need an IV in the ER…I felt more like the latter. This summer I spent time listening and giving attention to who I am and to what that tiredness was about. I made some structural changes, identified some patterns, and also recognized that sometimes that is simply how life unfolds.
Ruth Haley Barton’s book, Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership, was tremendously helpful to me. Paul Anderson convened a conference on “Leadership as Discernment” at GFox in early June and those conversations and Ruth’s presentations guided me tremendously. Ruth talks about how we can lose their soul in the success or normalcy of leadership and work. The intensity of pace, demands and the identity issues that arise create the perfect storm for losing sight of who we are at the core. She tells us that the soul is a shy animal and will not show itself on demand. To find the soul takes waiting, listening, and stillness. And the cultivation of our souls is done in solitude. Using the story of Moses, Ruth invites us to see Moses’ failures as a leader, his loss of soul and identity, and how he found his soul and identity in the presence of God.
As I look ahead to this new year, I see a new mountain to climb. I have all kinds of thoughts and feelings about what lies ahead. There is a lot to look forward to. Climbing this mountain and coming down the other side will be tiring, but it will also be invigorating, and the panorama views along the way will be breathtaking. I will encounter beautiful moments with students, great conversations, fall soccer, chapel, and theatre shows and concerts. [What are the views that you love as you go over the mountain?]. I think about what we need to make this climb: I need companions, and the right gear, and places to take shelter, and encouragement, and a map. I also realize that all of us at one point or another—or many points—will come face to face with our limitations and humanness during this ascent and descent. And most of us will encounter the shadow side of ourselves at some point.
All of us are influencers and leaders in one way or another. All of us teach and shape others. And this kind of work does challenge us at the soul level. At times we will act out of our tiredness, our frustration, our stress or because we are sick or lonely. Hopefully, we will not follow in Moses’ footsteps and murder someone. But nevertheless, we will react in unfortunate or perhaps hurtful ways because we lose sight of our soul. When Moses came to the end of himself, he ran for his life. He ran to the wilderness and hid. We know that was the best thing that Moses could have done because it was in the wilderness that he had an encounter with God that went on to change the course of a nation of people.
Moses was deep in the wilderness when he came across a bush that was on fire but was not burned up. Could Moses have had an encounter with God in the Egypt in the halls of the Pharaoh? Yes. Could he have had an encounter with God as he ate a meal with his fellow Hebrews? Yes. But the place that Moses paid attention to the voice of God was when he was deep in the wilderness. Solitude gives us space to listen to God and cultivate an ear that can hear the voice of God. It is difficult to discern the voice of God in the midst of the busyness and emotions and stresses of our daily lives. In solitude we learn to recognize the voice of God and to pay attention to it. In solitude we see the bushes that are on fire without missing them. Paying attention is some of the deepest kind of spiritual work.
We come from many different Christian traditions. Different traditions may call us to the primacy of scripture or the movement of the Holy Spirit or sacramental worship or justice and compassion or holy living or contemplation or your tradition may call you to an integration of all of these. But for all of us, our tradition calls us to knowing God more and more deeply. For me and for many of us, this happens not only in solitude, but often best in solitude when I can pay attention to God away from the competing voices and demands of life. Solitude is the place where my soul is realigned and restored. I know that finding some space alone to be with God will be critical to climbing the mountain ahead, so that I can work and teach and shape and administrate and all that I do from the deepest part of who I am, and not from the reactive, shadow side.
We talk about being a wisdom community and there is a lot of wisdom here. I want to know you for a lot of reasons, but one of the foremost is that I want to be around wise people to help me grow in wisdom. Wisdom—or the ability to discern God’s voice—is not simply a spiritual gift, but it is a mark of Christian maturity. It would make sense that the more we serve together, that we should grow and mature as a community and grow together is discerning God’s voice. Wisdom in the decision-making that we do is not just praying before a meeting. It is a posture of attentiveness to God. A group of unwise, undiscerning people do not get together and make wise decisions. Each of us must be learning to know the voice of God for the sake of ourselves, but also for the sake of this place becoming more mature 5 years from now, 10 years from now than it is today.
I think that for me, solitude is not just a good thing for my development, but it is a necessary thing. It was for Moses (not just at the burning bush, but throughout his leadership), and it was for Jesus. I think that for most of us it also is necessary.
We have a mountain ahead to climb together. The views will be incredible. It will also be tiring and hard at times, and for some there will be rocks and ravines we are not expecting. I think that short and longer stops of solitude along the way will be necessary for us to grow as a wisdom community and for us teach and work from out of our souls. Or perhaps, you will catch yourself at some point this year, reacting harshly or out of anger and then as you think about it, instead of just ignoring it, you will see it as a call to solitude.
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