Humble Stumble: Hymns for Imperfect Saints: "Good Light"

I have a started a project in conjunction with my "The Humble Stumble: Lessons on Simplicity, Stillness, Fashion and Faith from a Bad Quaker" book. It's on Spotify -- "Humble Stumble: Hymns for Imperfect Saints."

I'll add a "hymn" a day.

These are not "hymns" in the traditional sense. Rather they're songs that have spoken to my soul in a spiritual sense -- even if they are not "spiritual songs" per se. Though my bias is that that our hearts hunger for beauty and meaning and when artists create something that sings deep in our souls, well, they've created a "hymn," even if it was unintentional.

Suggestions of songs that have spoken deeply to you are welcome!

I'll also post lyrics and video (when available) here.

Today's hymn is  Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors – Good Light

Wasting time and wasting money,
you've been acting like a fool.
You spend your whole life fighting for a guarantee,
when all you really need is a friend.

Hey, there's a good light, shining in you. There's a magic in your eyes.
Hey, there's a good light, shining through, and I need it tonight.

You've been looking for rhyme and reason.
The confusion is dragging you down.
You got lost in the chaos.
You got lost in the ashes and dust.
What you needed was someone to trust.

Hey, there's a good light, shining in you. There's a magic in your eyes.
Hey, there's a good light, shining through, and I need it tonight.

We're all stumbling through the darkness.
No one can stay there and still make it through.

Hey, there's a good light, shining in you. There's a magic in your eyes.
Hey, there's a good light, shining through, and I need it tonight.

Drew Holcomb's website is http://www.drewholcomb.com/

"Airplane Poem #2"

Flying into the dark seems
to be my life lately.
Headphones in, tunes
on.  And the sun don't
shine anymore.  Glad
that the One who
guides me
guides the pilot as she powers us through
the light chop
cause the sun don't
shine for her anymore
either, just the light
from the instrument
panel.

Step into the troubled waters...

Step into the troubled waters

the angel left for you--
the trembling unknown,
the unchartered depth.
The body descending
blurs in the refraction
of sacred Light.

"Bethsaida" by Nancy Compton Williams

Source: The Penwood Review

Add your thoughts at inward/outward

Brent's Books On Kindle

I'm happy to announce that Mind the Light is now available on Kindle.  Mind the Light was first released in paperback in 2006. 

When it was released, Publishers Weekly said, "Those seeking a series of clever tips for cultivating spiritual growth overnight will not want to delve into this deceptively simple meditation on the Quaker custom of mindful seeing. A Friends minister and author of Holy Silence: The Gift of Quaker Spirituality, Bill describes his book as "a way of seeing our inner and outer lives with spiritual eyes and discovering the connectedness between inner and outer sight." Like a neighborly conversation across a kitchen table, this slender volume emphasizes the mundane details of daily life as they are enlightened by being attentive to the Spirit of God that Quakers believe dwells within each person."


While it's still available in limited quantities on-line and in bookstore, it has been declared out of print by the publisher.  So I've been able to make Mind the Light available, as originally printed, as a Kindle book -- for the low price of $2.99.

For those of you who like Kindle, a few other of my titles are also available there.

Sacred Compass: The Way of Spiritual Discernment was called by Richard J. Foster  "one of the finest books on discernment and divine guidance that I have seen in a very long time."

Also available is Awaken Your Senses: Exercises for Exploring the Wonder of God (with co-author Beth Booram).  Parker J. Palmer says, "With Awaken Your Senses, Brent Bill and Beth Booram have given us a superb resource for seeking the God of life through sensuous experience, a way of knowing that has been sadly neglected--and too often held suspect--by the church. How did a faith based on the claim that 'the Word became flesh' become so divorced from bodily, incarnate knowledge? Here is a beautiful book that will help us reclaim our bodies, our senses and our relationship with God."




Holy Silence: The Gift of Quaker Spirituality has also recently been released on Kindle.  Publishers Weekly said, "In this brief primer on Quakerism in general and silence in particular, the author uses a practical tone to anchor reflections on what is essentially a matter of mystery: how God speaks in and through individual and communal silence. A self-confessed "type A personality," Bill brings a buoyant but realistic tone to his subject. Interspersed with quotations from various Christian writers and pauses for "quietude queries," or reflective moments for relaxation and contemplation, the slim volume is a useful tool for readers seeking a guide to devotional practice."

Coming soon is a new edition of David B. Updegraff: Quaker Holiness Preacher.  So far this is the only modern biography of this radical Quaker preacher of the 19th century.  2013 will mark the 30th anniversary of the publication of this landmark work.  The new Kindle version will be an expansion of the 1983 edition and will include research I have done since that edition was originally published.

Enjoy -- happy reading!

-- Brent

Sunflowers & Souls: From Mind the Light

(from Mind the Light)

Light: Without it we die. Physically.Spiritually.

Our very lives depend on light for photosynthesis—energy from sunlight that converts into adenosine triphosphate (ATP), the fuel used by all living things. That’s why sunflowers track the sun across the sky, sea otters bask while floating in the ocean, and I look for an excuse to go to Florida in January. All God’s creatures move toward the light—flowers, trees, people. Light is constant and ever present. At least that’s what we assume. Then the power goes out or a month of clouds rolls in. We grumble and moan and whine until the light comes back.

But even more than physically, we respond to illumination emotionally and spiritually. Light—depending on its strength, tone, slant—changes how we perceive the world and people. Light sets a Midwestern sunset apart from a Western desert sunset, a Goya portrait from a John Singer Sargent portrait, and a joyful spirit apart from a mournful one. Yet even though light is all around us, we often don’t notice it and the difference it can make in our souls. That’s where an old Quaker saying—“Mind the Light”—offers help. “Mind” in this case means many things—including heed, tend, notice, observe, and obey. Minding the Light is a way of deep seeing.

I need help seeing. I’ve been nearsighted since high school and joined the bifocaled folks when I turned forty. I’m also diabetic. That means I go to my optometrist annually and have my eyes thoroughly checked. At a recent examination, Dr. Groninger talked me into trying contact lenses.

I liked the immediate results. I looked days younger with them—so much younger I considered getting a toupee and dyeing my beard. But I had trouble reading. I saw faraway stuff. But not near. The first day I went out to lunch with people from the office and picked up the check. That’s about all I did, because I couldn’t read it. I had to trust a coworker to fill in the amount for the tip.

So I went back to the doctor. She made an adjustment. Much better. I could read. But then I started driving. My distance was blurrier. Another week and I was back. “What do you think?” Dr. Groninger asked. “Well, I like not messing with glasses. I like the freedom. But I’m still having trouble— now it’s distance.” “Let’s try modified monovision.” She explained that she was going to power up my left eye for reading and my right eye for distance. “Oh, we’re going to trick my brain, huh?”

“Not really,” she said. Then she explained that sight already tricks our brains. We favor one eye over the other all the time, based on what our needs are. If we’re in a concert and someone with a big hat sits in front of us, the eye that can see the show tells the brain, “Hey, pay attention here and forget that hat.” And we do. So now I’m learning to see in a new way and tell my brain what to pay attention to.

The poet Tess Gallagher writes:

My father loved first light.

He would sit alone

at the yellow formica table

in the kitchen with his coffee cup

and sip and look out . . .

My father picks up his

cup. Light is sifting in

like a gloam of certainty

over the water. He knows

something there in the half light

he can’t know any other way.

That’s what Mind the Light is about: A way to learn things in the light, whether at Formica tables with coffee cups or quietly reading a spiritual memoir or in the middle of our workaday world. Minding the Light adds a further dimension to eyes and brain: our souls. It helps us pay attention to God’s Light around us and in us. How we see our lives changes as this illumination leads us to a deep appreciation of the soulful things of life. Minding the Light is an invitation to experience a new way of seeing that shows our brains and souls what to pay attention to. It’s a way of seeing our inner and outer lives with spiritual eyes and discovering the connectedness between inner and outer sight.

Throughout Mind the Light you’ll encounter boxed text labeled “Illuminating Moments.” These are meant as brief exercises in Minding the Light. Illuminating Moments are based on the Quaker practice of asking Queries. The Religious Society of Friends (as Quakers are officially known) have used Queries for almost 350 years as a way to examine our souls, seek clarity, and gain spiritual insight. Queries are a practice that can be used by anyone looking for God’s Light in life. The Illuminating Moments in this book are not about mystical experiences of God, though they may occur. As you read the Illuminating Moments, let your mind and soul fill with words, ideas, or images. Using the Light of God inside and outside you, look deeply into the Holy.

Learning to Mind the Light is CPR for the soul. It’s an encounter that will save your light. 

************

the above is an excerpt from Mind the Light: Learning to See with Spiritual Eyes which is now available for $2.99 on Kindle.   You can download a free sample chapter!

Light and Love: West Newton Friends Meeting Video

See the Goodness of the Lord -- Day Nine

I saw a whole new perspective yesterday thanks to the miracle of modern flight. It was a gloomy, rainy, grey day in Indiana. A day that can, if you're a moody sort like I am, just drag you down.

Then I boarded the little jet heading to DC and up through the clouds we soared. As we broke through the cottony greyness, the brilliance of the sun broke through. A whole new vista unfolded beneath and above me. The grey clouds hiding the sun from the surface where I had just been, were actually lit up bright, like a snowy field on a sunny winter day. And the sky was crystal clear. The mood on the plane lifted, folks spirits seemed lighter. Ah, maybe I'm projecting a bit, but that's how it felt to me.

So I spent some time, especially as we passed the peak descent time and started down, looking out the window and watching the clouds -- clouds that looked thick enough to walk across started breaking up, like winter ice on a spring stream. The landscape then broke through and I could watch the trees below me catch the light coming through the breaks in the clouds.

I landed a happier man than I was when I took off (not that that is unusual -- landing always makes me happier) thanks to the the great light that was above the clouds.

And, though you'll not be surprised by this observation, I thought how like life this is. I forget to see beyond the clouds. I forget that the sun is shining. I see only what feels like reality to me ... and the reality is that it is dark and dim and full of despair. My sight remains horizontal and forgets to look vertically -- to where the Sun is shining, where the Light is coming from. Don't forget to consider changing your perspective, Brent, I told myself looking out the plane window. The sun shines even if you don't see it. God is good, even when you don't feel it.

Indeed.

-- Brent

See The Goodness of the Lord -- Day Three

This morning's sunrise stopped me in my tracks, literally. I was sleepily pointing the Toyota down the long lane to the road, letting the tires ride in the tracks, when I looked to the east and beheld a glorious sunrise -- orange, pink, blue, grey, pale yellow. Shadows and light skipping through the sky. The clouds underlit by the sun glowing pink ... no orange ... no tangerine ... no ...

I wish I had my camera with me I thought. Doh! I always have my camera with me -- it's tucked in my new laptop/camera backpack. Uh, the reason I got the backpack!

So I stopped the car, unzipped the bag, pulled out the Nikon and started firing away. But the sky was already different from what it had been when I first noticed it. The prairie grasses and flower stalks seemed a bit less translucent. The brilliancy was fading. It was still beautiful, but muted somewhat as the sun tried to peek through the deepening cloud layer.

As I climbed back into the car, hem of my suit pants damp with dew, I thought about how my lack of awareness and then resultant hesitation had cost me some really good pictures. Yes, I still had enjoyed the pleasure of seeing those magnificent moments, but they were only stored in my memory banks -- which makes them hard to share with the people I love. I did have about ten other shots -- but they were not nearly as powerful as the ones I could have gotten would have been.

Alas, "the would have beens".

I thought then about how many times I'd missed a chance to capture a God-sighting in my soul because I was driving along through life, riding in the tracks. What other things have I missed because I failed to grab the opportunity. Not the opportunity for money or things -- but for beauty and God and the life of the spirit?

The sunrise this morning reminded me of that ... And I have a picture or five to help.

-- Brent

See the Goodness of the Lord -- Day One

Tonight I sat and watched the golden sun climb the tree trunks as the sun set in west. It's an odd phenomenon -- to think the sun is sinking in the west, but that its light climbs the trees, bathing them in an awesome golden glow. Instead of grabbing my camera, I just sat and watched and marveled.

At one level, it makes no sense -- the light is fading as the sun dips toward the horizon. So how is it that it seems to grow in intensity and actually walk itself up the craggy tree trunks? I know it can all be explained by the physics of light, but it feels much deeper to me. And I rejoice in it.

And I also recall the times that my life has been unexpectedly lit by God, even at times when it felt like light was fading -- the death of a loved one, a tiff with a deep friend, an entering into a shadowy time of life. The the main light was fading, a special soft light often filled a dark corner, illuminating something I could not have seen in the brightness of the noonday sun.

Which is not to say that I enjoy the fading of the light -- spiritual or otherwise. But still, by stopping and looking away from the actual sunlight (which is where I normally look -- after all that's where we all tend to gaze as the day ends) and into the "dark," I found unexpected light. Beautiful light. Warm light. A light that spoke to my soul of the light that shines in the darkness -- and the darkness shall not overcome it.

-- Brent

Quaker Wisdom for Today

"I saw that the grace of God, which bringeth salvation, had appeared to all men, and that the manifestation of the Spirit of God was given to every man to profit withal. These things I did not see by the help of man, nor by the letter, though they are written in the letter, but I saw them in the light of the Lord Jesus Christ, and by His immediate spirit and power..."

-- George Fox

Quaker Wisdom for Today

"The first gleam of light, 'the first cold light of morning' which gave promise of day with its noontide glories, dawned on me one day at meeting, when I had been meditating on my state in great depression. I seemed to hear the words articulated in my spirit, 'Live up to the light thou hast, and more will be granted thee.' Then I believed that God speaks to man by His Spirit. I strove to lead a more Christian life, in unison with what I knew to be right, and looked for brighter days, not forgetting the blessings that are granted to prayer."

--Caroline Fox, 1841

Quaker Wisdom for Today

"The Inner Light does not lead men to do that which is right in their own eyes, but that which is right in God's eyes. As the Light is One, so its teaching is ultimately (though not superficially) harmonious. In actual experience, it is not found that souls truly looking to the Inner Light as their authority will break away from each other in anarchy."

-- Ellen S Bosanquet, 1927

Quaker Wisdom for Today

This central affirmation, that the Light of the Christ-like God shines in every person, implies that our knowledge of God is both subjective and objective. ... But it is an equally important part of our faith and practice to recognise that we are not affirming the existence and priority of your light and my light, but of the Light of God, and of the God who is made known to us supremely in Jesus. … It is further checked by the fact that if God is known in measure by every person, our knowledge of him will be largely gained through the experience of others who reverently and humbly seek him.

--L Hugh Doncaster

Hayride

There was a quarter moon outside our ten cent town two evenings ago when I arrived home. A good portion of the family had assembled for a bonfire -- and then they wanted to go on a hayride. So being the really good guy I am, I went to the barn, dropped the log-splitter off the tractor, and fire Mr. Deere up to go get the hay wagon. The sun was starting to set and it was a nice bouncy ride over the recently picked bean field and across the road back to Nancy's nephew's house where the wagon was. In a stroke of luck (not driving skill), actually backed the tractor perfectly to the wagon so that I all I had to do was pick up the tongue, slide it over the draw bar, drop the pin in and... viola' (as the French farmers say), I was good to go.

Arriving back at the bonfire, the sun had set, the embers were glowing, and hot dogs were roasting. After a truly unhealthy meal, it was time to set out on the hayride. To be lit or not lit (the tractor -- not me) was the question. Not much moon, some starlight, but there's just something about warning lights that takes the fun out of a hayride. So, I thought I'd try doing it in the dark -- steering my way around the field (and keeping out of the woods) by what little light God had provided.

It was enough. In fact, I was amazed how much light there was once we pulled away from the fire and my eyes adjusted to the night. I could easily pick out the woods from the field and indeed saw variations of soil in the field that I had never noticed before in the daylight. The sandier soil shone different in the starlight than did the more clay-laden and the loamy (all words that didn't mean much to me just a few years ago). It was even easy to pick out Zeus the big black dog running back and forth in front of the tractor or zipping off into the woods in pursuit of Ebony our black cat.

It reminded me, that when things seem pretty dark, we often are given more light than we realize at first glance. We -- I -- tend to curse the darkness instead of stepping out into the light that is there. Driving that night in the dark reminded me that God gives me the light I need to make my way. Regardless of my life being in the daytime or feeling beset by nighttime. The secret to successfully navigating by the little light the other night was to give my eyes time to adjust to their perceived lack of light -- and to go slow. I geared the tractor down and moved along at a speed appropriate to the conditions.

It was a reminder I needed.

-- Brent