ENTRUSTED WITH THE EARTH |
COMMUNITIES OF EARTH & SPIRIT |
Having entered St Andrews University, Scotland in 2004 to study Environmental Biology, I slowly made my way through Sustainable Development classes, Cultural Studies and Anthropology to graduate in 2008 with the more interdisciplinary undergraduate degree in Geography. I've always had an interest in earth sciences and population movements, the growth of cities and the impact of resource procurement. I love spending time outdoors, hiking, gardening, camping and kayaking. So, the opportunity to explore the intersections of a variety of religious practices with the environment has been such a gift through seminary.
I have submitted for this SLO a curriculum that I created for my "Communities of Earth & Spirit" class, which I've called Entrusted. It is a collection of ideas, liturgy and other creative works that could be utilized by a pastor, youth leader or worship design team to supplement or shape a worship and/learning experience that centers ecology and earth justice. I have learned and continue to learn, particularly during this past year – as global pandemics, forest fires, flooding among other extreme weather events have occurred – just how important it is for our faith communities to wrestle with what it means to be entrusted by God with a responsibility to care for our planet. Our communities of faith and certainly our broad communities are already experiencing a transition in how they interact and plan for the climatic effects of our changing planet. We have been painfully reminded of how interconnected we are as individuals, and residents in North America, with the rest of the world. We are woven together in a complex web of mutuality.
I believe that if pastors and faith communities are to continue to minister and pastor in relevant ways in the 21st-century, we must boldly acknowledge and address our own failings as members of the broader Earth Community. We must lament and confess, yes. But, we can't stop there. We must begin to grow and engage in a process of preservation and restoration. Not forgetting that our Christian faith is a storehouse of resources that shed light on our identity and responsibility to the entire earth community. Finally, we move to act, recognizing that this is a continuous process requiring perseverance and humility. I hope that my curriculum could be used to prepare a congregation to undergo such movements.
I have submitted for this SLO a curriculum that I created for my "Communities of Earth & Spirit" class, which I've called Entrusted. It is a collection of ideas, liturgy and other creative works that could be utilized by a pastor, youth leader or worship design team to supplement or shape a worship and/learning experience that centers ecology and earth justice. I have learned and continue to learn, particularly during this past year – as global pandemics, forest fires, flooding among other extreme weather events have occurred – just how important it is for our faith communities to wrestle with what it means to be entrusted by God with a responsibility to care for our planet. Our communities of faith and certainly our broad communities are already experiencing a transition in how they interact and plan for the climatic effects of our changing planet. We have been painfully reminded of how interconnected we are as individuals, and residents in North America, with the rest of the world. We are woven together in a complex web of mutuality.
I believe that if pastors and faith communities are to continue to minister and pastor in relevant ways in the 21st-century, we must boldly acknowledge and address our own failings as members of the broader Earth Community. We must lament and confess, yes. But, we can't stop there. We must begin to grow and engage in a process of preservation and restoration. Not forgetting that our Christian faith is a storehouse of resources that shed light on our identity and responsibility to the entire earth community. Finally, we move to act, recognizing that this is a continuous process requiring perseverance and humility. I hope that my curriculum could be used to prepare a congregation to undergo such movements.
| Loane_Entrusted Curriculum |
CONTEMPLATIVE WORSHIP |
CHAPEL MINISTERS
|
Throughout my time as a minister to youth and children, as well as further education at Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary I have grown in my appreciation of how worship can be a truly multisensory experience. Planning a worship space for people that intentionally engages many of their senses also connects to the multiple ways we intellectually, emotionally and spiritually connect with one another and to God.
In my role as Student Chapel Coordinator at seminary, I had the opportunity to facilitate a 45-minute-long service that focused solely on contemplation. As part of this service, I had planned a couple of scripture readings, though not long ones, and a few short responsive prayers with short periods of silence directly afterward.
However, one of the most remarkable elements of this contemplative worship experience was the 15 minutes we spent in silence but for some gentle, deep, resonating underwater sounds that came over the Chapel’s speaker system. At this point, it’s important to mention that the Chapel on campus at Louisville Seminary is a wooden, A-frame building that creaks in the wind, looking much like an upturned hull of a boat, and sounding like one too. It was in this setting that we breathed in unison, listened in harmony, felt the subtle movement of the spirit and responded together.
It was here that I felt a sense of God’s spirit all through my body and inside that sanctified space. There were no gimmicks, no inspiring musical numbers, or rousing congregational hymns, just peace, silence, and an opportunity for rest. For me, at least at this time in my life, as I’m overstretched and overcommitted, I worship most fully in silence. Finding times to be quiet, for peaceful reflection, somewhere to “be” in God’s presence, allows me to shed the demands and expectations of others (and of myself). In silence, I become aware of each of my faculties again: mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual; I can begin to fine-tune them again, focus, and re-visit ideas, thoughts, feelings, conversations, fears, hopes, and desires in a way that I was previously unable to do. Silent contemplation grants me space.
The opportunity to be silent opens me up to a whole new awareness of myself and others. The benefit of which proliferates through to every part of my day, and I feel the negative consequences when I go days and weeks without taking the time to slow down and be still.
In my role as Student Chapel Coordinator at seminary, I had the opportunity to facilitate a 45-minute-long service that focused solely on contemplation. As part of this service, I had planned a couple of scripture readings, though not long ones, and a few short responsive prayers with short periods of silence directly afterward.
However, one of the most remarkable elements of this contemplative worship experience was the 15 minutes we spent in silence but for some gentle, deep, resonating underwater sounds that came over the Chapel’s speaker system. At this point, it’s important to mention that the Chapel on campus at Louisville Seminary is a wooden, A-frame building that creaks in the wind, looking much like an upturned hull of a boat, and sounding like one too. It was in this setting that we breathed in unison, listened in harmony, felt the subtle movement of the spirit and responded together.
It was here that I felt a sense of God’s spirit all through my body and inside that sanctified space. There were no gimmicks, no inspiring musical numbers, or rousing congregational hymns, just peace, silence, and an opportunity for rest. For me, at least at this time in my life, as I’m overstretched and overcommitted, I worship most fully in silence. Finding times to be quiet, for peaceful reflection, somewhere to “be” in God’s presence, allows me to shed the demands and expectations of others (and of myself). In silence, I become aware of each of my faculties again: mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual; I can begin to fine-tune them again, focus, and re-visit ideas, thoughts, feelings, conversations, fears, hopes, and desires in a way that I was previously unable to do. Silent contemplation grants me space.
The opportunity to be silent opens me up to a whole new awareness of myself and others. The benefit of which proliferates through to every part of my day, and I feel the negative consequences when I go days and weeks without taking the time to slow down and be still.
| Contemplative Chapel Service |