Editor’s (admin’s) note: Lightly edited copy, with links added, of my email in advance of this month’s appointment with my spiritual director, giving her a heads-up on what I’ve been journaling about (or, in this case, why I haven’t been journaling) since our last meeting and, more to the point, helping me focus over time by archiving the emails with my journals on this blog. This month I’ve been thinking about things ranging from a personal mission statement (trying to repair a broken world) to the books of Genesis, Revelation and what comes in between.
Thu, Nov 13, 6:14 PM (4 days ago)
Hi Sister —
For the second month in a row, I haven’t really gotten around to finishing — and uplinking — a lot of spiritual journaling. So — rejoice! I’m not giving you a whole lot of verbiage to wade through. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy, though, and it doesn’t mean my busyness, at least some of it, hasn’t been productive. Some of it even touches on things we’ve talked about.
More and more I’ve been occupied with church stuff, and, as so often happens, I find I’m getting more out of it than I’m putting into it. Especially taking the chair of the faith formation (parish ed) committee, it’s kind of forcing me to: (1) figure out what “faith formation” actually *is*; and (2) reflect some more on my own faith formation. If nothing else, I’m starting to pay attention to our kids whereas I’d just tuned them out before.
Which is no doubt a good thing in itself!
We’ve started a series of workshops under our new pastor that seem like they’re designed to put us through a fairly rigorous institutional self-study. I was delighted at one of the first sessions to see the curriculum focus on mission and vision statements. I’ve thought we needed to do more of that ever since I was involved in the re-accreditation process at Springfield College-Benedictine 20 years ago and saw how important it was.
Also, as a table exercise during the mission statement discussion, we were asked to take a couple of minutes and draft a personal mission state. Here, for what it’s worth, is what I came up with:
To use my gifts during the time I’ve got left to do what I can to help repair the world (tikkun olam).
That’s pretty wonky (but *I’m* pretty wonky), so I’ll translate. Actually, “Google AI” (of all places!) has as good a brief description as any:
Tikkun olam is a Hebrew phrase that literally means “repairing the world” and refers to the Jewish concept of social justice and a duty to make the world a better place. It involves social activism, opposing injustice, and improving society through acts of kindness, charity, and upholding ethical laws. The modern understanding has evolved from its origins in rabbinic legal discussions and later incorporated mystical interpretations, becoming a cornerstone of social action and responsibility in Judaism.
I first came across the idea reading a paper by Krister Stendahl, a Swedish theologian who served at various times as bishop of Stockholm and dean of Harvard Divinity School. I like it, because it’s all about social justice and it puts a focus on what we *do* — I can always use that reminder.
One bit of journaling I completed was something I started back in the spring but kept putting aside as other things came along (or President Trump changed his mind about whatever the latest outrage might have been). Finally, toward the end of October I bit the bullet and finished the darn thing. It grew out of the “Dwelling in the Word” lectionary studies I’ve been co-facilitating, and it’s much too long to bother you with. But I’ve been thinking about a thread that ties together the creation story in Genesis, the first chapter of John and the last chapter (or is it next-to-last?) of the Book of Revelation.
I’ll just excerpt that part of the journal below. Like I said, the rest of it is too long to trouble you with the whole thing!
See you (over Zoom) Monday at 6!
— Pete
***
Excerpt: “Dwelling in the Word’: Looking at the Book of Revelation in a parish study group during apocalyptic times of huge turmoil,” Oct. 23. [Links in the original.]
[…] I can relate to the first chapter of John — the gospel, not John of Patmos’ book — and the way it hearkens back to Genesis. Bruce Hillman, a former Missouri Synod Lutheran pastor who now writes for New Reformation Publications, explains Logos theology like this:
As it concerns the Divine Logos, Jesus Christ is fully God, fully present in his word. Logos theology gives a foundation for sacramental theology, where Christ is seen to be present in the bread and wine. Logos theology allows God’s word to be miraculous, killing with the law and resurrecting in the gospel.
There’s a lot here to chew on, and I want to sit with it a while. But I think it can give me a philosophical framework for the importance I attach to the eucharist. It might even help me understand the Lutheran attitude toward the sacraments, which is quite different from what my own (Anglican) spiritual formation taught me.
But I studied English instead of theology, and I was a newspaper reporter for 20 years. So I’m all about the story. Here are the stories I’ve learned to value after mulling them over in [Dwelling in the Word].
First, the creation story in the first chapter of Genesis:
When God began to create[a] the heavens and the earth, 2 the earth was complete chaos, and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God[b] swept over the face of the waters. 3 Then God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 And God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.
6 And God said, “Let there be a dome in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.” […]
Next, the first chapter of John:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life,[a] and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.
After a brief aside about John the Baptist, the evangelist (yet another John) returns to the “true light,” to Jesus of Nazareth:
10 He was in the world, and the world came into being through him, yet the world did not know him. 11 He came to what was his own,[c] and his own people did not accept him. 12 But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son,[d] full of grace and truth.
And finally, the 21st chapter of Revelation:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. 2 And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
“See, the home[a] of God is among mortals.
He will dwell[b] with them;
they will be his peoples,[c]
and God himself will be with them and be their God;[d]
4 he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for[e] the first things have passed away.”5 And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” […]
[Uplinked Nov. 17, 2025]
Ordinary Time 