An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith Paperback – Deckle Edge, February 9, 2010

Barbara Brown Taylor is such a national treasure that she has even been noticed by the MSM--the main stream media--and been put on the cover of Time magazine. She was featured in this hallmark way because of her latest book, *Learning to Walk in the Dark.* I haven't yet read that book, or her first one, *Leaving Church.* But I have listened online to a few of her sermons and some interviews she has done, and I'm guessing that *An Altar in the World* will one day be seen as a volume in an on-going spiritual biography. I certainly plan to read her newest book soon. When I bought this book, five years or so after it had been published, I had no idea that she was coming out with a new book. I am very glad, however, that I have read this one now.I think the introduction itself is a classic, which I wish I could have read and appreciated many years ago. It begins with a discussion about the all too commonplace platitude about being "spiritual but not religious." What I like is that she explores the messiness of the word "spiritual," and how she does it. She writes about spirituality for many as a longing for "more meaning, more feeling, more connection, more life." The way to find that more, she believes, is not in pilgrimages to India, mission trips to Belize, or hours of fervent prayer. That more, she affirms, is available to every one of us, and is indeed actually within us. Indeed, she writes, "The last place most people look is right under their feet, in the everyday activities, accidents, and encounters of their lives." So how do we uncover and develop this untapped resource? Through "practices." Each one of the succeeding twelve chapters is about practices.Chapter one is about "The Practice of Waking Up to God." Taylor begins this most engaging book with a reflection on the fact, which many Christians don't seem to either know or care about, that the entire world is, to use the Jewish word that has come into common English usage, in the United States at least, "Bethel": the house of God. She asks a very disarming question here which should make all of us pause. "Do we build God a house in lieu of having God stay at ours?" That is truly a question to think long and had about. But at the same time, she points to another big problem for many Christians in our day: we attend churches that have divided our bodies from our souls and the church from the world. These divisions, whether we realize it or not, renders creation bad, which drives us inward, away from the world. Finally, the introduction points to a truth that needs to be driven home relentlessly: Wisdom is not about knowing what is right, but rather practicing what is right.Following chapters deal with the practices of: paying attention, reverence; wearing skin, incarnation; walking on the earth, groundedness; getting lost, wilderness; encountering others, community; living with purpose, vocation; saying no, sabbath; carrying water, physical labor; feeling pain, breakthrough; being present to God, praying; and pronouncing blessings, benediction.As I often do, I kept track of the writers Taylor cited. In addition to many of the usual suspects, she included references to Georgia O'Keefe, hymn writer Brian Wren, Rumi, Jonathan Swift, Alexis de Tocqueville, Louis L'Amour and her fellow writer-farmer Wendell Berry. Non-Christian writers cited included Rumi, Thich Nhat Hanh, Chief Rabbi of Britain Jonathan Sacks, Abraham Heschel--a usual suspect, but I encourage people to read him every chance I get--and the Bhagavad Gita, among others. But she also cited the film "My Life as a Dog," and the fictional character and novel namesake Zorba the Greek. Wisdom is found in all sorts of places.There are so many things I could highlight here, but I will confine myself to one. Rabbi Sacks teaches her something important about community. The Hebrew Bible, he explains, commands in one verse that we are to love our neighbors as ourselves. But, he points out, there are no fewer than thirty-six places that command us to love the stranger, that is, the people who are not part of "us," however we define that. There is a practice we ALL need to work on.The last chapter, on the practice of pronouncing blessings, also deserves a special mention because it is something that most people never even thing of doing, much less do. Barbara Brown Taylor teaches us that we all can pronounce blessings, and encourages us to do it. (I have tried this with a couple of my friends who are frequently in need of encouragement, and have found it can be a very moving experience for both sides of the blessing!) In particular, among lots of wonderful tales about blessings in the lives of some of the saints and sages she writes about, Taylor makes three powerful points about blessings. First, a blessing does not confer holiness, it only acknowledges the holiness that is already there in all of us. Second, we have to get over drawing lines between what is good for us and what is bad. She tells us to pronounce a blessing not only when we win the lottery, but when we break a bone too. We don't the wisdom to know what will turn out to our good or bad. Third, we should not count on ordained ministers to pronounce blessings, we should all engage in that practice. She ends with a particularly touching story about the power of benediction that I will not spoil, but only say that it is one of the most powerful stories in the book, and it is all hers.As it happens, and without any plan on my part, I have read Barbara Brown Taylor during a period in which I read, among other books, articles, and essays, books by Rachel Marie Stone, Sarah Bessy, Rachel Held Evans, Esther De Waal, and Christine Pohl. All of these women write about different things. But each of these amazing women, in her own way, whether directly or not, provides a powerful testimony to the importance of being present and mindful always, where we are, and with whom we are at that precise place and time. It is there and then that we can and should, if we are faithful to our baptism, carry out both of the great commandments.*An Altar in the World* happens to be a book that addresses these things quite directly. Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us in this book that we belong to a priesthood of all believers, and that we are always at the altar, no matter where we are or what else we are doing.This books helps us to be better children of God, better neighbors--to those we know and love and to strangers too--and to be better priests too. I love having Barbara Brown Taylor for a teacher, a preacher, and a companion along the Way.

Barbara Brown Taylor's amazing book “An Alter in the World” is insightful and wise. She says she forgot the whole world is the House of God before she woke up to God. She wondered who persuaded her that God preferred four walls to wide-open spaces, that God's home is a church and that the world was a barren place full of lost souls needing help. She now believes the people in churches need saving from the idea that God sees the world the same way they do.Like Francis of Assisi Taylor says we can read the world as reverently as we read the Bible. She sees reverence as the awaking of awe. It's the reminder of our true size. The easiest way to practice reverence is to sit outside and pay close attention to everything that lives nearby. With luck we'll feel a tenderness and wonder for the struggles of ants and acorns. We may even feel the beat of our heart.Taylor shows how our spiritual lives depend on engaging the most ordinary physical activities with exquisite attention. What we lack for this treasure is a willingness to imagine we already have everything we need.She says all the world's great faiths are meant to teach us what it means to be more fully human. We live in the world that is waiting for us to notice the holiness in it. Faith is not just a way of thinking. Bodily practices should remind us that faith is a way of life. Our spiritual practices should bring us back to our body. To have gratitude for life as God's trusted flesh and blood. To bring divine love to earth. She asks us not to dismiss the body's wisdom because it does not use words.Taylor says when people ask about her prayer life she sometimes describes hanging laundry on the line. As the breeze tosses the clothes in the wind she imagines her prayers spinning away over the tops of the trees. This work is good prayer.Taylor says walking is the most available spiritual practice. We have difficulty recognizing where we really are as we spend most of our time thinking about the past. There are spiritual teachers who teach attentiveness including walking meditation. The four gospels give many accounts of Jesus walking by the sea of Galilee and even walking on water. Going barefoot is also a spiritual practice. Moses was told to remove his sandals as the place he was standing on was holy ground. Taylor says the spiritual practice of going barefoot can take you around the world and wake you up to your place in the world.The Practice of Getting Lost was one of my favorite chapters. We, like Taylor's cows, follow the same tracks in a field. It's normal and there are good reasons. However, it also allows us to stay unconscious. Getting lost is a good remedy for the deadening habit of taking the safest, shortest path. It leads us to new people, places and things. It makes us more aware of our steps, forces us use to all of our senses and to make new choices. When we are alert, our senses come alive, we become more aware and see more. Choosing to get lost is a low-risk way to develop new skills for managing panic. Taylor recommends looking at being lost as a spiritual practice, a way to build the muscles for radical trust. God does some of His best work with people who are truly, seriously lost. Even Jesus chose to become lost when he spent 40 days being tested in the desert. She says the best way to grow empathy for those who are lost is to know what it means to be lost yourself.Her chapter on community was particularly helpful. I too am an introvert and feel grateful when people draw me out of myself. Taylor says the main impediment to living a life of meaning is being self-absorbed.She also speaks of the Christian mystical tradition of divine union. It can happen alone, with other people or with the natural world. The light of wholeness makes no distinction between God, other people or trees. Everything exists and lives in wholeness and light. She says the hardest spiritual work is to love your neighbor as yourself. Unfortunately, in our world nothing strengthens community like a common enemy. Yet, what we have in common is our humanity.Concerning work Taylor says it's not what we do but how we do it that matters. Our work not only includes loving God and neighbor as myself but the vocation of becoming fully human. To turn gratitude for being alive into some common concrete good. Taylor sees housework as a domestic art. It's a powerful way to return to our senses.Keeping the Sabbath can be part of the practice of saying No. A way to resist the our culture's killing rhythms of drivenness, depletion, compulsion and collapse.Taylor says there is grace in physical labor when it is done as a spiritual practice. She points out how spikes in our pain bear some relationship to leaps of growth. To make peace with pain can require as much energy as fighting it. She says for those willing to stay awake, pain remains a reliable altar in the world.There is profound, life-changing wisdom on every page of Barbara Brown Taylor's book “An Alter in the World.”

Spoke has been excellent for brief reading and then taking time to digest what you read.Ideas and insights in here are well worth repeating and sharing.I would recommend a spoke to anyone over the age of 12.