Sustaining

During her semester in Italy, Lissy asked me, “What sustains you?” And now, Lissy is back from Italy and we are writing a long overdue post. Enjoy!
           

In the following blogpost, I (Kyle) offer some thoughts on the topic of what sustains me. I (Lissy) offer a poem reflecting on the giving and receiving of sustenance discovered in a small community. 

Economists and environmental scientists use the term ‘sustainable’ freely. I have a bottle made from over 30% post-consumer plastic. One company’s business ethic considers the environmental consequences of their practices on not just the next generation, but seven generations out. The lingo of sustainability has helped to educate, inspire activism, and cultivate care for the earth. Those cautious to jump into this ideological ocean with both feet may not trust its ideological cousins (for example, that tolerance or “coexistence” is chief among virtues) often sold in the same political shrink wrap.

The more I think about it, sustainability strikes a chord with my Christian understanding of stewardship. God governs the world, and yet He has called us to be stewards. Perhaps sustainability is shorthand for the human endeavor—to cultivate a world to God’s glory, which is a living glory. 

In Lissy’s coming Senior Art Project, she hopes to make pieces to portray how dynamic a plate of food is—how it is not just the calories that sustain us, but the symbols and relationships involved, too. “What sustains you?” she asked me. This isn’t so much a question about my ecology, but rather it asks me about what keeps me going, what are the sources of the meanings that motivate me, what nourishes me personally. I ask you, the reader, this same question.

Let me share a few of my thoughts:

As we think about entropy (that all matter tends towards decay), it is clear that all things as we know them have a life-span. Sustaining is not about becoming immortal, but is more about the quality of life. There is a great mystery in the question of what sustains me, as there is so much brokenness and longing, as well as movements and growth in my personal experience. There is an upside-down nature of Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus told his disciples, “Give and it will be given to you.” Yet as I am learning through personal experience, unless we allow God to give to us first, our efforts to give can make us feel taken advantage of and “burned out”.

C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity described God like petrol (gasoline), which humans need to “run” properly. Profoundly, the Psalmist wrote, "The LORD is my strength and my shield" and “The LORD sustains me.” Ken Shigematsu in God in My Everything suggests that spiritual disciplines and Christian practices give us the staying power to not only sustain our faith, but to grow us closer to the source of the One who sustains us. Whether mediated through others or directly through prayer and the like—and God is the source of what we need—we are being transformed and continually filled by God. Giving of ourselves, as mentioned above, is one of the ways that God sustains us and grows in us the capacity to be shaped by Him.

Ode to the Young People

by Elissa Sundet

This is for the young people,

those flames glowing in the dying garden,

for you and you and me;

we are a constellation in the dusky moss.

What is left in our lives

but to be the sustenance

to those we love and to one another?

I have held each of you

as warmth on a November evening

bleeding through my frozen shirt sleeves.

Drink as smooth as honey filtered through your calloused fingers,

Into my cupped hands, into my blood, veins, the mess of ventricles.

What is left but this?

In my blindness, I have only ever offered up

a single lukewarm cup of water to chapped lips.

How strangely then was I myself sustained.

If I gave and gave

until only broken glass

lit by dying embers was left,

how soft and malleable

would I be, dusty with refined satisfaction?

There was a time I was a fatalistic, famished pubescent,

and I scoffed at the enlarged, swollen heart

of my childhood.

Now the child cradles the broken juvenile.

There is no time for cynicism;

we are made of melting wax and golden wick,

Tossing out our light to one another in the dark.

No, there is no time

for one last glossy coat of polish

so that I can hide myself from your touch.

There stands only one option,

Begging me to burn on

the edge of that edge,

where both pain and beauty can unsettle me

and sweep me up in a warm breath.

Memoirs of Moving in College

We write this blog post for those who will be, or are in the process of, moving. It strikes a chord for both of us, as we have both experienced moving and the feeling of being caught in between two places. What follows in a reflection (Lissy) and a few observations (Kyle): please read, enjoy, comment below!

For the Church to Be a Home for the Fatherless

Summary of Church of the Fatherless: A Ministry Model for Society’s Most Pressing Problem by Mark E. Strong. Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity, pp. 183., $15.00, paper.

In defining the problem his book seeks to explore and find answers to, Mark E. Strong states, “Gone are the days when it was ‘normal’ for a child to grow up with both parents in the home . . . a figment of an imagination rooted in antiquity” (10). This is a growing pattern and many people continue to deal with the “issues inherent in fatherlessness” (11). Yes, while a father may be present, he may still lack the skills necessary to be a competent father (of which Strong names: the right temperament, an ability to teach about life and God, to equip children to function effectively in society, to discipline in a way that doesn’t destroy the child, to live in an exemplary way, and to have a strong marriage). The church, as “God’s redemptive agent in the community,” must respond to this issue. Strong sets forth three goals in his book, which I attempt to reflect as I summarize its material: (1) to help pastors/leaders gain a deeper understanding of the issues surrounding fatherlessness, (2) to share practical ways a ministry can serve the fatherless, and (3) to inspire readers to be a part of God’s answer to fill the fatherless void (13). It is not an option, but a biblical charge and a mandate (cf. Ps 68:5; Jas 1:27).

On Mirrors, Thunderstorms, and Gollum: Reflections on Reflection

It was a new summer and the air tasted fresh and was laced with coming thunderstorms. And I sat alone surrounded by green forest, watching the sun set and rise and set again. For the past week and a few days I had been hiking as part of a college outdoor program. The hiking trip ended with a 48 hour time of solitude and fasting. I longed for those 48 hours to end as soon as they began.

The solitude was painful to me and I longed for home, replaying in my mind again and again the imagined scene of my parents greeting me when I returned from the wilderness trip. My breathing became short at times, and I felt on the verge of panic. I read several books of the Bible, my eyes glazing over as I wondered if I heard thunder in the distance or an animal in the brush. I was not usually afraid of thunderstorms but the thought of them in the wilderness put me on edge. I felt so exposed to nature, to myself, to God. What if He was not good? What if He wanted to tell me things I did not want to hear?

View from the Top (Personal Response)

“My unwillingness to believe that Thou hast called me to a small work and my brother to a great one: O Lord, forgive.” -John Baillie

Throughout my life I have had a hidden thirst for the limelight. Over the past year in studying the life of St. Teresa of Avila, I have had the opportunity to understand this desire inside myself better. What follows is my own personal account and reaction to View from the Top (book reviewed in earlier post): this is neither normative nor prescriptive.

View from the Top (Book Review)

View from the Top: An Inside Look at How People in Power See and Shape the World by D. Michael Lindsay. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons 2014, pp. 218., $28.00, paper.

In what some are calling a seminal and compelling work, D. Michael Lindsay (current president of Gordon College in Wenham, MA) lays out the synthesis of a grand inductive enterprise, ten years in the making: View from the Top: An Inside Look at How People in Power See and Shape the World. During that time, Dr. Lindsay interviewed 550 individuals—about 250 CEOs, 100 non-profit leaders, and many other notables—and, using his background in sociology (employing the analysis technique of critical empathy, or elsewhere as “learning from stories as well as statistics”), he wisely finds a way to weave together what he describes as the largest leadership study of its kind.

Though he does not disclose each name, Lindsay distinguishes 128 individuals in his study group as platinum leaders, those possessing the following three attributes: (1) leading a large-scale enterprise, (2) an ability to maximize opportunity and catalyze change, and (3) a talent for garnishing trust and goodwill (xii-xiii). He, then, lays a helpful groundwork. “At root, leadership is the exercise of influence in the service of a shared cause. There is no potential state of leadership; it exists only when action is taken. Power, on the other hand, is often latent” (xiv). Lastly, in his introduction, Lindsay relates the deeply personal motivation behind his work: both (1) witnessing the successes of his father as the president of the Professional Golfers’ Association in America, and (2) responding the resistance from fellow Christians regarding the pursuit of power or influence.

Food Traditions

Kyle.

The English are infamous for their simple tastes, perhaps over-boiled vegetables, their fatty meats like pork and beef, and the strong beers to wash it down. While this is a caricature, and an insulting one to many, there are a good many food traditions (with heavily British influence) that my family has clung to. My mom, who never felt at home in the kitchen, pined for our feedback—assured that none meant complete failure—sometimes there was no possible feedback that could hush this internal doubt. This is British indeed, maybe a way that women in my family can tend to feel about their meals. The dinner table, or sometimes the couch and tele for us, fostered a comfortability with one another.

I preferred bread without butter growing up. Plain was best. My grandfather still loves to overcook his vegetables. I didn’t ask to like Marmite, nor did I realize how icky and sticky others thought of the spread. Anything on toast would do—cheese, tomatoes, beans, bacon, mushrooms, eggs—you name it! Ribena, black currant juice concentrate. Yum. We would prepare the basics for holidays: a roast, Yorkshire puddings, sprouts, mashed potatoes, gravy all over. This meal still seems idyllic to me, reminiscent of good times. For me, oatcakes and cheese means family love. Oh and tea. Can’t forget tea.

Lissy.

The Sundet family’s food traditions are swept up from all over the culinary map and given special life in our house. My mom’s side of the family is a New England, dessert pie kind of family. We spend Thanksgivings together, with plates of green beans, sweet potatoes, and warm rolls. My dad’s side, however, has gathered some ethnic recipes – streak broiled in a kind of soy sauce marinade, rice and beans topped with peanuts -  and these are the well- loved meals for  gatherings on that side of the family.

Sunday Dread

"Work hard, play hard." It’s a saying we’ve all heard. But what about “resting hard”?

I am not the first to admit that my mind, intent on productivity, is inclined to minimize the importance of rest; rest, after all, is often interrupted with thoughts of responsibilities, responsibilities that because I am resting I am clearly shirking—and by golly, there aren’t enough hours in the day as it is! However, Sabbath, like sleep at night, is a way of acknowledging what I believe to be our ingrained need for restoration.  Even God on the seventh day rested.

Shakshuka (Recipe)

Here is a recipe that we find to be delicious, satisfying, and elegant. It’s great for parties of three to four, but what an awesome thing if you made this for a party of eight or so. You eat it straight from the skillet, as each dinner guest spoons the tomato goodness from the pan and spreads it on a thick slice of bread. Or just slurps it straight from the spoon. Love each other and have napkins on hand.

Introducing the “Killing of the Fatted Calf” Series

This is an idiom.

By, “to kill the fatted calf,” we mean to bring to mind the Biblical story of the Prodigal Son. In this story, the younger of two sons asks his father for his share of the inheritance. Not only is this a great insult (to his living father), but he goes on to squander it all, leading a life of self-centered, decadent spending. After a short time, he is penniless and malnourished. So, he returns home to plead his father’s mercy—hoping to be received as simply a farmhand—knowing the servants there were well treated. What follows is the son’s unexpected restoration as his father runs to meet him, proclaiming:

“Quick! Bring out the best robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the calf we have been fattening, and kill it; we will celebrate by having a feast, because this son of mine was dead and had come back to life; he was lost and is found.”

Segment #1 - Methods, Metaphors, and Musings on Bread Baking

These past two Saturdays, we’ve tried our hands at making Ciabatta loaves using the long and involved processes in Baking by Hand by Andy and Jackie King. They started a neat, local bakery in Salem, MA called A & J King Artisan Bakers that has become a favorite of ours.
During the long hours of the baking process, we have exchanged a few playful metaphors that morphed into what we consider to be a delicious perspective on bread making. Here they are! Enjoy and create your own.

Rough Beginnings

How do two start a blog? For both of us, it is not the first time. There are many forgotten blogs lost in cyberspace. (Please don’t check our profiles…) There are many fears of being known, much potential of being judged, labeled, written off, ignored. Confrontation only happens when someone opens his or her mouth. Or starts a blog.