My Two Favorite Spiritual Practices

As a seminarian, I tend to talk a lot about my spiritual practices. And I have many. However, this weekend, I was reminded of two practices that always rejuvenate my spiritual life; taking time outdoors and protesting.

The hardest thing for me moving to the city has been the distance I feel between myself and the earth. I have lived most of my life in rural areas, surrounded by nature and sky and trees. This weekend a friend and I borrowed a car and drove out to the Ipswich Wildlife Sanctuary. It was so quiet! That was the first thing I noticed-- I could hear the silence, without the sound of traffic or people or machines. And I could truly see the sky, with the winter sun turning it gold and silver. I saw eastern red squirrels for the first time, chattering and fighting all over the place and clouds of chickadees landed periodically. We walked around the frozen lake and through the trees. There was an ancient Red Cedar, its branches worn through the decades, firmly rooted by the lake's edge. The smell of the tree as I sat besides it was warm and sharp and I felt like I finally had the time to clear my mind. My times of deepest prayer are nearly always in the quiet of the woods. It is there that I find God most present. I find it deeply saddening that the wild places are continually getting taken over by highways and development parks all over the country. I think we losing something precious, something many of us do not realize we have.

My other favorite spiritual practice is as loud and noisy as the woods are quiet and still. I do not go to protests just simply to go. Protests are a way for me to voice my solidarity with people who are marginalized in our society. Just as the woods call me to renew my sense of the presence of God, so protests call me to renew my sense of solidarity with my fellow human beings. This particular protest yesterday was in support of the Immokalee farm workers from FL, who were demanded a raise. A group of farm workers travelled from FL to Boston, in the snow no less, to highlight the fact that those who pick our tomatoes have not received a raise in decades and are often abused and exploited. This is the side of immigrant rights that activists sometimes forget-- migrants who obtain a job in the U.S. generally obtain a low wage job in the agricultural or service industries and often have very few rights. This group from Immokalee was courageously demanding fair treatment. It is tragic that the people who feed us, who clean our hotels, and who package our food are in possession of so few rights. It is in their faces that I find the face of the crucified Jesus today.