photo: mountain temple

“Nothing good or creative emerges from business as usual. This is why much of the work of God is to get people into liminal space, and to keep them there long enough so they can learn something essential. It is the ultimate teachable space…maybe the only one.”

-Richard Rohr

mountain temple
© erin dunigan 2012

cycle silhouette (self portrait)

In March I was in Thailand. I happened to be in a small, rural, northern area called Chiang Dao, and ran into a couple of people on bicycles who said “come with us, we are going exploring in the hills.” So, I rented a bike and joined them on a midday, 100+ degree in the heat of the sun cycling adventure up into the hills. On our way back we stopped a moment to wait, and I looked down beside me and saw this, my shadow.

This is me. I am holding the iPhone within my ‘silhouette’ so that it doesn’t show–do you see I have no arms? It was funny to me, when I first posted this image, how many people said “I like the one of the man on the bike.” It took me a while to figure out what image they were talking about. Then I realized, oh wait, I’m the man on the bike.

This image is part of my current exhibit, encounter.

cycle silhouette, Chiang Dao (Thailand)
© 2012 erin dunigan

Mark study: day 1

Tuk tuks are great, but a bit crazy, transportation in Bangkok

Perhaps it is because I wish that I were in Thailand right now, participating in person in one of these manuscript studies, or perhaps it is simply that by ‘giving up travel’ for Lent I’ve actually got the time to dedicate to it, but either way, here goes, Mark manuscript study, Day 1.

The first thing you will need, if you’d like to join me (and, by the way, if you are the LAST person in the world who would ever do something called ‘Bible study’ then you are most definitely the FIRST person I’d invite to  contribute–part of what has made these studies so rich for me in the past is the variety of people, from so many backgrounds, that have offered their observations, thoughts, and insights)…where was I?

Oh yeah, the first thing you will need is a pdf of the Mark text. I’d recommend printing it out–it will be 43 pages, so be prepared.

The pdf of the Mark text that I’ve posted at that link already has the appropriate line and page numbers for easy reference. This method depends on using the same line/page numbering technique.

So, Day 1 begins with Page 1, lines 1-27 (that’s the entirety of page 1). If we were in a group together we’d have about 30 minutes to read the page on our own (now you can see why some get antsy, thinking 30 minutes is WAY too much time to read one page) asking the questions ‘What do you see?’ and ‘Where do you see it?’

As much as possible cajole yourself into staying with the text in front of you–don’t read line one and say “Well, John says this about the gospel…” That’s cheating. However, if the text is quoting something from the Hebrew Scriptures (such as page 1, line 2) it is completely fair game to go and try to find where that quote is, if it is actually quoted correctly (just a hint, this one is not…)

So, on page 1, what do you notice? What do you see? What is the gospel (according to page 1!)? What words or phrases are repeated? What is confusing? What is intriguing? Pretend that you are Book of Mark CSI and pay attention to clues, hints, and random stuff that makes you wonder why the author included it.

From a methodological perspective, it can be helpful, or at least colorful, to use the same color to denote certain things. Use colored pencils or pens, whichever you prefer. Write all over the text–that’s what it is there for. So, if you see a word repeated, use the same color, or circle it, or do something to mark it. Or a certain phrase, or perhaps when you are given the location, or the time of day.

After the 30 minutes is up then we’d share what we observed with a group of 6-8 people around a table, taking turns to hear what one another observed, wondered, noticed. After a while of discussing around tables, we’d then open the conversation up to the larger group (usually about 25-30 in a larger group) and see what played out. Obviously, in this context, that is a bit impossible. So, feel free to simply eavesdrop and read along, or even better, contribute a thought or two.

Just a note on etiquette: it is essential in this type of study that all voices are allowed to contribute, that no one is belittled or shamed for a perspective, and that common courtesy is practiced. It doesn’t mean folks can’t disagree, but it does mean that it must be done in a manner that is respectful. It’s unfortunate, but often the most ‘religious’ of us are the worst offenders in terms of how we treat those with whom we disagree. Let’s give that up for Lent too.

dwell

arugula blossoms in sunset's shadow

I don’t actually remember where the idea came from. But, a while back, as I was pondering life, most likely while working in the garden, it came to me, what I would ‘give up’ for Lent.

Now, I’m not a big ‘give up something for Lent’ kind of person normally. But as I was pondering I realized that I could not remember the last time that I was in one place for any length of time. I do know that I happened to be in Mexico once for three weeks straight. That was back in November of 2008. Over two years ago. I remember it because it stood out as a record.

So I began to consider that for Lent I would ‘give up’ traveling. I realize, this might sound crazy to most normal people. “Poor you, you are giving up traveling for Lent.” But in my current fairly unpredictable and nomadic life, it actually seems like quite a challenge, staying in one place for 40 days (plus Sundays, which really makes it more like 45, but minus one mandatory presbytery meeting for which I will have to ‘travel’ to Southern California). Two years ago I traveled (literally) around the world during Lent, so I figured, this year, why not stay in one place?

(Ironically, as I am typing this, a road runner just flew onto the patio, directly outside the window. A quick search on roadrunners, or a bit of Saturday morning cartoon time will tell you that the roadrunner is symbolic of speed and movement…)

…..

Last year during Lent I was in Thailand. One day, as I was doing some sightseeing, I happened into a Wat (Buddhist temple) that I had read taught free meditation classes. I walked in and was greeted by a monk, and saw a roomful of people wearing what looked like white scrubs, walking back and forth, very slowly, silently, in a very small space. My “what have I gotten myself into” radar went off immediately, but it was too late, I had already been spotted by the ‘greeter monk’ who was welcoming me to the temple.

“I want to learn meditation” I said. Duh. The very nice monk proceeded to teach me both walking and sitting meditation and then invited me to come back for the evening session. As it happened, all of the people in white were actually part of a multi-day retreat in meditation, so I was the only person there for the evening session.

This time the man who seemed like the senior monk lead me to a fluorescent-lit, downstairs basement with narrow windows along the edge of the ceiling and metal fans blowing at intervals to move around the hot air. He showed me again how to do the walking meditation, slowly, very slowly, putting one foot slightly in front of the other for about four feet, then methodically turning around, walking the same four feet, turn around, repeat. It was all very intentional, very slow. Did I mention that it was slow?

He looked up at the clock. It was around 6:15. “Don’t stay past 8pm–you should get back to your hotel before it’s too late,” he said, and left.

An hour and a half? I thought to myself. Really? You think I can just walk back and forth, painfully slowly, for that long and not run screaming for some pad thai? They don’t eat after the noon meal, and since I had been at the monastery since the afternoon, I too had not eaten since the noon meal, though I had every intention of doing so.

But I started walking. Back and forth. Slowly. Methodically. Intentionally.

Here’s the crazy thing–when I finally looked up at the clock it was 7:30. I’ve gotta leave in 15 minutes, I thought to myself. But I really want to keep walking. So I did. Until 7:44. Just one more, I said to myself, like a kid who doesn’t want to get out of the pool when it’s time to leave. I finally dragged myself out of there by 8pm.

It was amazing. There was something about the slowness and the repetition and the ‘not getting anywhere’ that was deeply centering. Once I had overcome the ‘are you kidding me’ stage, I really didn’t want to stop. What an incredible experience, I thought to myself on the cab ride back to the hotel.

But the other crazy thing? I haven’t done it again since.

…..