outWORD by Matte Downey

When people contacted Mother Teresa to find out more about her and her work among the poor in India, she was often known to reply with the words of Jesus:  come and see . Mother Teresa knew that no amount of explanation could adequately communicate the nature of the world in which she lived and laboured. A person had to experience it for themselves. Come and see. Come and see is a favourite phrase of children. I am often invited to come to a child's room to see something. I know that the child is not asking me to stay at a discreet distance and observe as if collecting data for a report. The child is inviting me to get up close and personal, to sit on the floor and hold each precious toy that is handed to me. The child is inviting me to enter into their world, to join in their experience. I am expected to press buttons that make noises. I am expected to hug a plush animal. I am expected to join in a silly song or dance. I am expected to smell yellow candies in order to tell...

In Falling Upward , Richard Rohr writes: “I have prayed for years for one good humiliation a day, and then I must watch my reaction to it. ... I have no other way of spotting both my well-denied shadow self and my idealized persona.” [1] When I first read those words, I resisted them. Humiliating another person is a cruel and unkind act, so why would I ask to be on the receiving end of that? No one needs humiliation, do they? According to Christian saints, both ancient and contemporary, the answer to that question is an unqualified yes. As Rohr indicates, it is easy to lie to ourselves, especially if we are capable leaders. We want to believe that we are good at what we do, that people should look up to us, that we are mature and wise and special and perhaps even somewhat impressive. We swallow small doses of superiority and pride until we are immune to the distastefulness and deception. Rohr tells us that the most effective antidote to living falsely is accepting humiliation. ...

This is part two of a series talking about Jesus's calls to come and to go and the relationship between them. You can read the first part, "Come and See,"  here. Image from healthland.time.com We learn things by being around other people, and they learn things by hanging out with us. That's the way it works. The first people we learned things from were members of our family. Children are natural imitators and they mimic the behaviour and attitudes they see in their parents and other influencers present in their lives (for better or for worse). Growing up on a farm, I learned how to care for animals, how to plant and harvest, how to embrace the seasonal nature of life, and how to shovel manure. Like I said, for better or worse. Not all of the ideas we assimilate are helpful, and as responsible adults, we need to honestly evaluate learned behaviour to see if it contributes to a flourishing life, a good life, a life consistent with the life, death, and resurrectio...

Walking on the beach at Lunan Bay Scotland. A 'Yes' moment! Around 8 months ago I jotted down the beginnings of a poem. Today I came across the rough draft and thought perhaps it was time to finish it. If I remember correctly, I hastily typed those first words in a rush of joy and exuberance, absolutely besotted with being alive and surrounded by so much goodness. This evening, in a more contemplative state of mind, I edited it and added a final stanza. It is a poem about hope, celebration, gifts, limitations, and sobering gratitude. It is a poem about saying yes to life, all of it. The Poem of Yes by Matte Downey  Do you ever just want to write a poem?  Because you want to say something delicious Create something frothy and delightful Mold something with edgy consonants and soothing vowels Paint a picture with adjectives which have the potential to startle the mind and make someone go “Oh!” Do you ever just want to dance and jump?  Because t...

Table of food: Christmas dinner with my family I try to live by the motto that life is not about issues, but about relationships.  As a result of this, I don't engage much with hot topics or comment much on world events or what's on the news.  Frankly, I usually have very little to add to the conversation, other than to ask God for grace, help, healing, and wholeness.  Coming down on one side or the other of an issue is never that helpful, I find.  However, a few things I have read lately about how some Christian groups are condemning, excluding, and judging certain people have pained me deeply.  As a result, I have begun to do some thinking about how we treat others.  And by "others" I mean those whom we disagree with, those whom we don't understand, those whom we don't like, those whom we think are a blight on society, etc. You know who I'm talking about.  Since I profess to follow God, I believe that I should learn how...

I am back home, sitting at my desk. The cat has her back to me, sleeping on the couch. The kettle is heating some water for chai tea. I just finished an assignment due tomorrow, and have 50 papers to grade and some reading to do for Monday. Big things like graduating with my MA are on the horizon, but in reality, it is the little details that I attend to every day, like keeping up with my assignments, exercising regularly and eating well, taking time to rest, and avoiding unproductive pursuits, that get me to the big things. I have been reading the book of Leviticus, chock full of laws and regulations on many minute details of life. It can be quite a downer if one sees mostly the oft-repeated ominous statements: "make sure you don't do this" and "if someone does this, they shall die" or "this makes you unclean." It just all seems so petty , doesn't it? Who cares if two types of fabric are sewn together? But interspersed throughout all of this is th...

I have another confession to make. I sometimes find group dynamics challenging. There have been times in the past few weeks when I have just wanted to cry or slap someone or scream out loud or perhaps most cowardly of all, slink quietly away so that no one would notice. And this was in a small group of people that I would call my friends. Why? For the most part, I am a nice person, a quiet person, a patient person. I am not an extrovert and seldom naturally command the attention in a room. In fact, I sometimes feel quite inadequate and invisible when trying to be a leader or when I interact in a group. And yet, I know that who I am and what I have to say or contribute is often very valuable. But I usually will not force my voice to be heard, nor do something to make my presence acknowledged. I prefer it when people willingly listen and engage with me and offer their attention because they want to, not because I demand it. I detest manipulation and coercion and try not to participate in...

God has been telling me that he is a God of invitation. I keep hearing this over and over from different sources. I have been reading through the Old Testament again and frankly, have never seen much invitation there. Lots of judgments, warnings, commandments, and visions, but very little invitation. But I decided to change my perspective and look at the character of God as he is revealed in the Old Testament through the eyes of invitation. Wow, that does change everything! Here are eight invitations that I found just this week and they so impacted me that I spoke about them on Sunday night at church. 1. PULL UP A CHAIR. Don't stay on the outskirts, just watching. Come in. Participate. Engage. Be more than an observer in the back row. Pull up a seat at the table, be a part of something, join the family meal. Be present. (I invited everyone to pull up a chair and sit around a large table.) 2. BURN YOUR PRIDE. Admit that we all need help. We are guilty. Stop justifying or explaining...