A short poem by Mary Oliver:
Instructions for Living a Life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
I wonder what it would be like to live with this as a motto for my year.
Lisa Cole Smith |
I sometimes struggle with my sense of calling. I’ve wondered (maybe more than occasionally) whether or not I misread God’s invitation to full-time pastoral ministry. I’m just not naturally some of the things that other ministers seem to be. And, unfortunately, that gregarious-outgoing-church-planter kit I sent away for never showed up in the mail. I’m pretty sure it includes great “community building skills,” natural evangelism strengths and a passion for talking with people anytime, anywhere.
I had hoped that after ordination I’d suddenly develop the talent for hanging out in coffee shops and chatting with waiters but it didn’t happen. My warm handshake and open-for-anything smile doesn’t fit quite right and I misplaced my handbook for great conversation starters and small talk. I know for certain my battery pack for going and going and going to social gatherings and networking events and event driven evangelism fell out sometime during my first two years of ministry and unfortunately, the battery store has yet to have them back in stock.
I’ve been searching everywhere for that kit, sure that if I found it I would have some peace and finally be equipped for ministry. But Mary Oliver’s poem is arresting that search and drawing my attention to another kit — one that’s been here, unpacked for a really long time. It’s strewn about my house and office in piles and piles of books with notations in pencil and pen and bright yellow highlighter. In my file cabinets of notes from seminary classes and seminars that I keep for reference. In my preference for long one-on-one chats and small group discussions and how incredibly productive and connected to God I am during a long walk or an hour staring out of the window. It’s the kit that allows me to listen deeply to both what is said and not said when someone shares with me. It is what allows me to zoom out and remember the big picture of what we are doing as a church. I rely on that kit to find creative solutions and help others stretch their imaginations to see what God is doing in unexpected and subtle ways.
I think Mary Oliver’s poem might very well be the instruction manual that came with my kit. “Tell about it” is a very important one third of the equation, but it comes purposefully last in the sequence. Perhaps the most important part is “Be astonished” as the centerpiece and “Pay attention” is what is needed to get there. For some people the first two pieces of that formula may take discipline and a change of habit. For me, it is permission to embrace what is most natural. To talk less and observe more, or to talk more about what is important and not feel guilty for having fewer words for other things.
I hear Jesus’ words in Oliver’s poem. I hear him calling to those with ears to hear. I hear him inviting Martha to let everything else come later and let the “one thing” be first, to contemplate and be astonished by his words and presence. I am astonished. I am astonished by the graceful and surprising ways God is present in the world, by the way this year is different from the last, by the beauty of the people in my life and how incredibly good it feels to sit in the sun. And the more I let myself sit here and follow that astonishment the more I start paying attention. My prayer is that this act of attention and contemplation will also change my telling. Make it more honest. More simple. More sure. I think I will embrace Mary Oliver’s poem this year. Tuck it my pocket, wrap it around me like a blanket and fly it as a flag.
Lisa Cole Smith ([email protected]) is pastor of Convergence: A Creative Community of Faith, in Alexandria, Va.