No Judgment Zone

I am a student of relationships – sibling relationships; friendships; spousal relationships; parent-child relationships; neighborhood relationships; power relationships; workplace relationships; political relationships; spiritual relationships. I have studied and observed; read and taught; struggled and delighted; and have committed myself and my work to the healing of relationships and the development of life-giving, sustainable relationships that (in my mind at least) reflect the desire of God for us, God’s beloved.

Thanks to the recommendation of a friend and colleague, I discovered the work and teaching of Dr. Marshall Rosenberg in his book, Non-Violent Communication. While it might be easy, at first, to imagine that this book is for those who have a hair-trigger temper, or for those who live in violent and dangerous environments, it is – in fact – a book for all of us.

Rosenberg asserts that we do violence to relationships – even, and maybe often, those relationships most precious to us – by judging one another. It happens all the time, often in subtle ways; and without being aware, we erect defenses between ourselves and those around us to protect ourselves from the hurt – and violence – we experience when we are judged by another.

In some ways, it’s no surprise. Judgment happens all the time, all around us. We live in a world that values either/or, red/blue, liberal/conservative, right/wrong, in/out. We need only turn on the TV, the radio, or connect to the web, to hear rhetoric on all kinds of issues that underscores the value of ‘being in the know’, of winning, of having the final word, of getting what we want before someone else does.

I believe, though, that we all suffer from this way of being; this way of relating; this way of parsing the world. Most of all, our relationships suffer – and with that, our freedom to be fully human.

Rosenberg outlines a 4-step way of understanding and communicating that I have found to be both incredibly (and embarrassingly) hard, and powerfully life-giving. Here are the 4 steps:

1. observations: the concrete actions we observe that affect our well-being
2. feelings: how we feel (be specific here) in relation to what we observe
3. needs: the needs, values, desires, that create our feelings
4. requests: the concrete actions we request in order to enrich our lives

Here’s an example:

When I’m talking and I get interrupted (observation), I feel anxious (feeling). I need to get my whole thought out (need). I’d like you to wait until I’m finished talking, and then give me a moment to make sure I’m done, before you speak (request).

This is very different than saying:

You always interrupt when I’m talking! I forget what I want to say. You really make me mad. I don’t want to talk any more.

If you’re anything like me, the first example sounds contrived, unnatural maybe. And the second example sounds sadly familiar. I can only say that my attempts at employing Non-Violent Communication (NVC) have brought about powerful shifts in my relationships. Check it out~

(For more information about NVC, check out Marshall Rosenberg’s workshops on YouTube.)

 

 

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Upcoming Programs and Events

Taize Worship Service

Church of Christ, Lancaster, MA

Sunday, April 6 at 10:00 a.m.

 

Soul of Leadership: Taste and See Workshops

April 21 (9-3) at Rolling Ridge Retreat Center in North Andover, MA

May 10 (9-3) at Bethany House of Prayer in Arlington, MA

• Do you seek a community of leaders with whom you can speak freely, explore organizational values and dream big?
• Would you like to develop your leadership style through interaction with leaders in the forefront of energized and values-driven organizations?
• Are you looking to deepen your own spiritual awareness and resources to sustain you through leadership and organizational challenges?
• Would you like to develop communication skills that can guide your organization to better support and affirm all of its members?
• Do you sense the need for change to help you break through to new possibilities?

Join me, and Dr. Margaret Benefiel, for a day-long workshop to explore these questions using tools, strategies and resources we will be offering in our upcoming 18-month Soul of Leadership program. For more information, go to: http://www.executivesoul.com/taste-and-see-workshop

 

1728 Coffee House

The First Congregational Church UCC, Holliston, MA

Custom Blend in Concert

Saturday, May 10 at 7:00 p.m.

 

Preaching in Worship

Acton Congregational Church

Sunday, June 15 at 9:15 a.m.

 

 

Morning Prayer

Over many years, I have developed the practice of beginning my day in my prayer room. I make a pot of tea, light several candles, and enter into a time of quiet reflection. Sometimes I read professional journals, sometimes I write in my own journal, sometimes I wiggle and struggle to stay open and quiet, trying to stay present to God and to prayer. In recent weeks, I have felt pulled to checking Facebook or text messages, writing my list of to-do’s for the day, and sometimes my husband joins me for quiet conversation.

Today, I woke up early – glad for the half-light of not-quite-daytime – and sat down on my cushions in my prayer room to begin the day. I became aware of a restlessness, and decided to sit with it to see if I could discover what was unsettled within. I looked out the windows to the view I know so well and began to sense a longing simply for God – no reading journals, no electronic checking, no writing. I found myself desiring a return to old practices . . . practices put away months ago in favor of other things. So I went to my bookshelf, pulled out my Bible and my tattered and worn copy of Celtic Daily Prayer, and turned to the Scripture passages and reading for today – February 27. As God would have it, today’s reading is one I have loved and been drawn to for a long time. I had forgotten all about it. As I opened to this reading and this practice, I found myself feeling so deeply grateful for the restless pull that brought me back . . . to a deep sense of home. I’ll share the reading with you and pray for a holy restlessness that brings you to your deep home as well.

I Stand By the Door

I stand by the door.

I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out,

The door is the most important door in the world –

it is the door through which folk walk when they find God.

There’s no use my going way inside and staying there,

when so many are still outside, and they, as much as I,

crave to know where the door is.

 

And all that many ever find

is only the wall where a door ought to be.

They creep along the wall like blind men,

with outstretched, groping hands,

feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,

 

Yet they never find it . . .

so I stand by the door.

 

The most tremendous thing in the world

is for people to find that door – the door to God.

The most important thing anyone can do

is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands,

and put it on the latch – the latch that only clicks

and opens to that person’s touch.

People die outside that door, as starving beggars die

on cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter –

die for want of what is within their grasp.

Others live, on the other side of it – live

because they have found it,

and open it, and walk in, and find [Him] . . .

So I stand by the door.

 

Go in, great saints, go all the way in –

go way down into the cavernous cellars,

away up into the spacious attics –

it is a vast, roomy house, this house where God is.

Go into the deepest of hidden casements

of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.

Some must inhabit those inner rooms,

and know the depth and heights of God,

and call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.

Sometimes I take a deeper look in,

sometimes venture in a little farther;

but my place seems closer to the opening . . .

So I stand by the door.

 

There is another reason I stand there.

Some people get part way in and become afraid

lest God and the zeal of [His] house devour them;

for God is so very great, and asks all of us;

and these people way inside only terrify them more.

Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled

for the old life, they have seen too much:

once taste God, and nothing but God will do any more.

Somebody must be watching for the frightened

who seek to sneak out just where they came in,

to tell them how much better it is in inside.

 

The people too far in do not see how near these are

to leaving – preoccupied with the wonder of it all.

Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door,

but would like to run away.

So for them, too, I stand by the door.

 

I admire the people who go way in.

But I wish they would not forget how it was

before they got in. Then they would be able to help

the people who have not yet even found the door,

or the people who want to run away again from God.

You can go in too deeply, and stay in too long,

and forget the people outside the door.

 

As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,

near enough to God to hear [Him], and know [He] is there,

but not so far from others as not to hear them,

and remember they are there, too.

 

Where? Outside the door –

thousands of them, millions of them.

But – more important for me –

one of them, two of them, ten of them,

whose hands I am intended to put on the latch.

So I shall stand by the door and wait

for those who seek it.

‘I had rather be a door-keeper . . . ‘

So I stand by the door.

~Samuel Moor Shoemaker