These books are not required for any particular course, but instead are a peek into our hearts and minds as we enter this new season.

As you discern what books you鈥檇 like to add to your summer list, we invite you to consult and consider buying a book from a Black-owned independent bookstore.

Community Recommendations
	by Padriag O鈥橳uama听 Recommended by Millicent Haase, MDiv ’21, Admissions Counselor听 From master storyteller and host of On Being’s Poetry Unbound, P谩draig 脫 Tuama, comes an unforgettable memoir of peace and reconciliation, Celtic spirituality, belonging, and sexual identity. 鈥�It is in the shelter of each other that the people live.鈥澨�
	by Cole Arthur Riley听 Recommended by McKenna Hight, MDiv ’24 This quote from the introduction sets the frame: NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER: In her stunning debut, the creator of Black Liturgies weaves stories from three generations of her family alongside contemplative reflections to discover the 鈥渘ecessary rituals鈥� that connect us with our belonging, dignity, and liberation.听听 鈥淭o be human in an aching world is to know our dignity and become people who safeguard the dignity of everything around us.鈥澨�
	by Dr. Angela Parker听 Recommended by McKenna Hight, MDiv ’24 A challenge to the doctrine of biblical inerrancy that calls into question how Christians are taught more about the way of Whiteness than the way of Jesus.听 鈥淚n essence, If God Still Breathes, Why Can鈥檛 I allows me to hold the idea of Scripture as authoritative while interrogating the doctrines of inerrancy and infallibility as tools of White supremacist thought that promote the erasure of communal memory.鈥澨�

More Community Recommendations:

Cheryl Goodwin, Director of Institutional Assessment and Library Services 听

• by Brian McClaren听

Daniel Tidwell-Davis, Director of Student & Academic Services听

• 听 by Ash Van Oterloo听
• by James Alison听

Jana Peterson, MDiv ’21 & current theology doctoral student at 听

• by Randy Woodley听
• by Steven Heinrichs听
• by Robin Wall Kimmerer听
• by Osheta Moore
• by Jennifer Grace Bird Dr. Ron Ruthruff, Associate Professor of Theology and Culture

Dr. Joel Kiekintveld, Adjunct Faculty, Listening Lab Leader听

• by Randy Woodley听
• by Hartmut Rosa听
• by Andrew Root and Blair D. Bertrand听
• by James K. A. Smith听

Katrina Fitzpatrick, Assistant Instructor听

• by Richard Twiss听
• by Kristin Kobes Du Mez听听
• by Randy Woodley and Bo Sanders听
• by Isabel Wilkerson听

Krista Law, MACP ’12 & MATC ’13, Enrollment Manager听

• by Wil Gafney听

Lauren Peiser, Director of Partnerships听

• by Matthias Roberts听

Mackenzie Martin, Academic Advisor听

• by Rebecca Roanhorse听

Dr. Maria Fee, Adjunct Faculty听

• by Willie James Jennings听
• by Courtney Bryant听
• by Patrick Bringley
• by Elissa Yukiko Weichbrodt
• by Lucretia B. Yaghjian
• by Madeleine L’Engle

Dr. O鈥橠onnell Day, Associate Professor of Counseling Psychology

• by Patrick Casement
• by M Fakhry Davids
• by Narendra Keval
• by Frank Lowe
• by Thomas Ogden听

Dr. Paul Hoard, Assistant Professor of Counseling Psychology

• by Stephen Mitchell and Margaret Black
• by John Caputo听
• by Resmaa Menakem
• by Richard Mitchell
• by Neil Postman听听
• by Daniel Jose Gaztambide听
• by Emily Nagoski听
• by Slavoj Zizek听
• by Bessel van der Kolk听
• by Julia Serano听

Dr. Ron Ruthruff, Associate Professor of Theology and Culture

• by Philip S Gorski and Samuel Perry
• by Andrew Whitehead听
• by Pamela Cooper White听
• by Joshua Bloom and Waldo E. Martin JR听听

Dr. Pat Loughery, Affiliate Faculty听听

• by Rob Walker 听
• by Becky Chambers
• by Oliver Burkeman

Jeanette Scott, MACP ’08, Practicum Leader

• by Colin Woodard

We look forward to being in conversation with you about the places your own readings and curiosities take you this summer when we enter into learning together this fall. Until then, we hope each of us can find some good time in the sun.

The post What to Read Before September appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

In this interview, Tara shares her artistic process and describes how her time at 天美视频 shaped her understanding of herself and her work.

What draws you to your art?听

I am a collage artist using paper already saturated with color, pattern, and movement, to create beauty. I love color and pattern. I鈥檓 overwhelmed by beauty, the way it hits me. I find myself drawn to this idea of the encounter with beauty, the pursuit of beauty, as described by John O鈥橠onoghue, a fellow Irish mystic. I was born in Ireland, lived there for 20 years. and studied fashion design there as well.

The painter Gustav Klimt is one of your inspirations. Can you share more about your artistic process?

I find myself to be more undone and enraptured by Klimt鈥檚 pieces than by looking at flowers or a tree. I enjoy being inspired by other techniques and styles. There鈥檚 something about being immersed, looking at all the angles, getting to know something inside out. I know why Klimt put the yellow there. I鈥檓 exploring how deeply can I know this. I want to know this completely until it鈥檚 in my cells. I鈥檓 creating beauty because I鈥檓 trying to make myself: if I鈥檓 making beauty, I鈥檓 identifying myself with beauty.

I鈥檝e also created originals when inspiration comes to me, for example, my collection on Earned Attachment, collages that depict a father or mother holding a child. I didn鈥檛 have the language at the time to explain it. It took a few years later, when I was at this school and then I understood it: I was unconsciously trying to heal, trying to create attachment with the Godhead.

In my art, I connect to parts of myself, my unconscious, that need to be healed or processed. I have been surprised by what came out at the end in my art: God and I were co-creating. I鈥檓 coming to trust that there鈥檚 a purpose here, just go with it.

Often my art is an act of worship, to love, to beauty, to healing, to God. A way to extol. Some of the collage pieces are pieces of worship to someone I love, a moment in time that had a lot of meaning. Holding it up to the light and sharing it with others even though it鈥檚 not translatable. This was glory. That person was glory.

How did you evolve as an artist during graduate school?

Over the four years at 天美视频, it took me most of the time to own the name 鈥渁rtist鈥�. It didn鈥檛 sit in my body yet. That changed while I was in school.听

I love how 天美视频 gave me words. I have a drive to express myself through poetry, art, and papers for school on topics I鈥檓 passionate about. Graduate school helped me find words for what I鈥檓 trying to express in my right brain and didn鈥檛 have words for. I feel like it did a lot of the work of integration. Getting the words and getting the awareness that came in school came together well with my art.听

What drew you to the Master of Arts in Theology and Culture at 天美视频?

When I came to the school, I knew I had things to say to the world. It kept getting bigger and bigger. I wanted direction and guidance, to know what that was.听

How did graduate school shape who you are today?

I鈥檓 now working as a program therapist in shelters with traumatized women. At 天美视频,听 I took all the psychology classes I could. I loved the mix. It was perfect for me. I didn鈥檛 want the limitations of licensure. I love people and I want to be in trauma spaces with people. I want to live with people and heal together. I want to speak to people where they are at. It鈥檚 worth it if I can speak to their shame, a sentence, a look, a touch. I think everyone needs someone to look them in the eye. Before 天美视频, I would have amazing connections with people in 30 seconds. That impact matters to me. Now I know what鈥檚 happening, how significant it is, the neuropsychology, and I love all of it.听

The post Art on our Walls: Tara Hubbard’s Collages appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

AS: What is your reaction to being identified as an exemplar of resilience?

SE: Laughter is my first response. I think it was surprising and humbling. What is weird about getting older and going through life is that things don鈥檛 get easier; they get more complicated. There have been elements of my faith that one time made a lot of sense but need to keep expanding alongside my lived experience.

I think what people see in me, in terms of resilience, is a willingness to see questions that arise about faith not as dead ends, but as doorways that open up possibility. If you are thinking, 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know what to believe in that anymore,鈥� you can see that as an ending or as a doorway to a deeper conversation. I鈥檝e been curious in those places, like 鈥淲ell where does this doorway go to?鈥�

AS: What has helped you develop resilience in the midst of the unknown?

SE: As I鈥檝e continued in my faith, I have had enough experience with God that I see him interacting and providentially leading in my life so that when I come across the new, the mysterious, the unknown, I can infer that that same providence is acting in this unknownness. It鈥檚 a deep sense of trust, and it gets deeper as every situation requires more trust. Even if I am angry or don鈥檛 like this place in my life, there is a sense that God loves me, that these circumstances are where I am invited into conversation with God. So I ask, 鈥淲hat is the conversation that I can have only from here? How can I learn here? Who is my teacher, and what am I discovering about myself and the world?鈥�

An early contributor to my resilience was seeing models of dynamic faith through the lives of adults who were involved in an organization I was a part of when I was younger, Alongside Ministries. What is consistent in my faith now is practicing prayerful silence and solitude, taking times of moments of quiet and to allow myself to process the life I am in, to have a hidden practice of prayer and listening. I also meet with a spiritual director.

AS: The three pillars of resilience we talk about in the Resilient Leaders Project are People, Practices, and Purpose. There are two books you have co-created, with Justin McRoberts, that I think invite people into resilient practices and help them clarify purpose: and . The books use art and text to make space for those curious conversations with God that you鈥檝e been talking about. What is it about art that facilitates conversation with God and self?

SE: A great question to ask about art is 鈥渨hat does it mean?鈥� Another great question to ask is 鈥渨hat is it pulling out of you?鈥�… because one of the wonderful functions that art has is that it becomes an excavation tool. It helps us get in touch with the deepest conversations that we are having. Have you ever been in the car, turned on the radio, and a particular song was playing that you turned up the volume loudly and exclaimed 鈥渢his is my song!鈥� What are you saying in the moment? Somehow the artist lyrically and sonically perfectly described what it鈥檚 like to be in your own skin. They helped you get in touch with the honest truth about you鈥� and honesty is the doorway to a conversation with God.

AS: Many people develop resilience through an experience of burnout, a leadership crucible, or a personal crisis. You have explored your own ministry burnout experience in your one-man play, We Are Not Troubled Guests. Having seen the show, what was really powerful to me was your willingness to dive deep into your pain, to explore those places of hurt and harm instead of numbing them. In the play, you (literally) painted a picture of how resilient purpose can develop as the willingness to take apart all that had been so carefully constructed resulted in a new, more organic sense of calling. Do you think everyone needs to have an experience like this to truly develop resilience, or do you think skills can be taught and implemented ahead of those experiences?

SE: It feels like a catch-22 in a way. The best way to learn health can be from your unhealth, and failure can be the greatest teacher. But if you see someone on a really negative path, you don鈥檛 tell them to keep moving toward burnout. But, in some ways, I kind of think you might have to have this type of experience; what that looks like is different for each person. In part that is because there will always be part of your false self that will drive you to a place that is a dead-end, whether that is a need for accomplishment or serving in a way that is more about you than about others. There has to be the breaking of that ideal of your false self. The breaking of it can reveal a truer thing.

AS: Your latest performance piece, Say Yes: A Liturgy of Not Giving Up on Yourself, addresses this idea of letting going of that false self to embrace a wider sense of purpose. Can you tell us a little more about it?

SE: It鈥檚 a conversation鈥攗sing story-teaching, participation, humor, and image curation鈥攁bout who we are, why we are here, and what is the possible future that lies before us. It鈥檚 about the death of a dream and the overwhelming voice of Giving Up鈥攁nd it鈥檚 about redeeming those things unto deeper hopes and vocation.

Liturgy simply means 鈥渢he work of the people.鈥� So when we gather together, I will be the story sherpa, I will do the heavy lifting, but it鈥檚 really a space to open up a conversation with your own life. We do together because it is through the forms of story, art, imagery, singing, comedy, and participation that we begin to slowly untie the narratives that we tell ourselves. And the magic that happens at the end is that we are able to see new possibilities for the future.

I wanted to make a church service about suicide鈥� because I鈥檝e never been to one. I think one of the hardest things about the miracle of life is that sometimes you come to a place where you don鈥檛 want the miracle anymore. Why is that? And how do you talk to the Giver of that miracle about it? Say Yes in my attempt to enter into that conversation with an audience.

You can restore your inner resilience and learn how to live into your purpose through the . Learn more and apply today.

The post Resilience in the Unknown: An Interview with Artist Scott Erickson appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

Let the sun wake you up. Grind the beans, heat the water,
and make your cup of coffee. Enjoy it. Drink it slowly. Notice how your
pour-over tastes much better than the drip brew at work.

Don鈥檛 make the news your lectionary. Give
thanks. Meditate. Pray. Pause before you
open your device. Listen to the birds outside
of your window.

Work hard, but take breaks. Pay attention to your body. Get
out of the stiff kitchen chair at your makeshift desk. Stretch.
Breathe. Make a cup of tea. Go on a long walk in the middle
of the day.

Let your son distract you. Let your dog rest her head on your
lap. Pressing send one more time will not change the world.
Replacing your anxiety with presence just may though.

Breath in,
鈥淭his is not…,鈥�
Breath out,
鈥渁ll up to me.鈥�

Breathe in the air shared by every other human on this earth.
You are not alone in this wildness.

Stop working and disconnect. Dig your hands into the soil. Call that
person you kept telling, 鈥渨e should get lunch sometime,鈥� But never did
because you were too busy 鈥� or too terrified they would rather not.
Let yourself feel the weight of the world in your hands.
Run your fingers across the ocean. Hear the trees breathe
in renewed air.

Clasp your loved one鈥檚 hand from far away. Grieve with them that
they couldn鈥檛 walk at graduation. Or that she labored alone for two
hours while waiting for a room.

Hold the earth just long enough to recognize it is far too heavy to
place on your back. Set it down. Watch the sunset and hold onto
gratitude for this single day.

Sacred Space is curating a virtual gallery to offer space to communally share how we are processing in this season. We would love to be witnesses to the ways you have been showing up with yourself to grieve and lament. to submit a photo of your art, a written piece, a recording of you playing music, or any other form of processing. In the coming weeks, you can visit the Intersections blog to see artists highlighted.

The post Pandemic Way of Life appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

鈥淗ow are you grieving? In what creative and available ways have you found for your body to express its pain?鈥� Melissa Deeken, MATC and MACP student

Sacred Space is curating a virtual gallery to offer space to communally share how we are processing in this season. They would love to be witnesses to the ways our students have been showing up with themselves to grieve and lament. to submit artwork, a written piece, a musical recording, or any other form of processing.

鈥� reflects what this time has allowed/required me to do鈥攕low down. Amidst that slowness, I’ve been surprised to receive guidance, support and blessings from the plant allies that are providing food, medicine, and keeping our ecosystems in balance at all times and especially now amidst pandemic.鈥�

Kate Fontana’s patronus is a peregrine falcon. She thrives on ambiguity, karaoke, and the worlds of youth fantasy fiction. She struggles with single-use plastics, small-talk, and to get anywhere on time. She is a Sagittarius, an auntie, and a third-year MDiv student. You can visit her blog at .

鈥淎fter an initial five weeks of enjoying the slowing down that the quarantine provided, during the fifth week I began to feel a building anxiety and a feeling of overwhelm. My process of grounding myself started with yoga, tapping exercises, and meditation. Yet while it aided in reconnecting to myself, it wasn’t until I started mixing colors on my palette and putting some force into my brush strokes that I began to feel the transfer of my emotions onto the canvas, and an eventual emotional release. There is something cathartic about mapping a color to an emotion and assembling them together into a mosaic. The process helped me identify areas where my body was holding emotional tension and where I needed to tend to myself the most.鈥�

Yuliya is a Seattle-based photographer, writer and grad student of Counseling Psychology, playing in the intersecting spaces of trauma and creativity. You can see Yuliya鈥檚 photography at .

鈥淔rida was a woman who bore her discomfort and worked through adversity. These are times of adversity and she inspires me.鈥�

Danielle is a mother of four (ages 14, 12, 10 and 8), wife of one awesome guy, and graduating with a Masters in Counseling Psychology from 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology. She is honored to be a regular contributor to and her and . She plans to open a private practice. Her loves are my four children and husband. You can find the #supersixcastillejos reading Mo Willems and other various books, hiking, creating spaces for art, and adventuring together. Her heart is to bear witness to the stories untold by the marginalized, silenced, and bodies seeking healing. As a survivor herself, she fights together with clients for love, justice, truth, and honor. Learn more about Danielle by following .

鈥淥ne of the ideas I’m trying on in solitude is: soft is good. Soft words, soft thoughts, soft body. This does not come naturally to me.

I like rough edges and abrasive things like critiques and analyses and freezing cold water and hard, unsquashable objects like river rocks and steel, like concrete buildings that cut the light into clean lines. Soft makes me suspicious.

A long time ago in school critiques, one of my art professors would always take my hands. Cracked, stained, maybe bleeding, they bore the brunt of whatever work had just been finished. These? He would say, ignoring whatever sculpture I had hurled my body at for the past two weeks. These hands are the piece.

And this need for steel and concrete, this need to hurl myself against unyielding impenetrable boundedness is not because tough calls out to tough like deep to deep. The craving to feel cool unyielding solidity outside comes from somewhere deep within where, in a really terrifying sense, I’m soft too.

As my own boundedness grows new and fragile in some places, calloused in others, I feel the gentle but reliable edges of my own skin from the inside out. There is soft and steel in here, too. As smooth and cool as a river stone and as easily squashed as a freshly baked roll all at once.

And still: how scary to be soft. How terrifying to let the concrete be out there and grow a skeleton inside, to touch surfaces that might collapse. How strange but strong to feel the texture of my internal world softening and hardening at once, like new skin growing under a scab.鈥�

Ellen Cline is a MACP student interested in body as an instrument of research, art, and healing. She is committed to growing out her hair during this time of isolation. She will not buzz her head. You are all witnesses. To view more of Ellen鈥檚 work, visit .

The post Processing Amidst a Pandemic: A Collection of Student Artwork appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

The main work of the course involved a three-part Art Theology project, for which students chose an artist whose work they already found meaningful but wanted to explore further. That artist鈥檚 body of work became their main text for the term as they fully immersed themselves in the art, guided by course instruction, culminating in a final presentation where they shared their theological findings with the class. The chosen artists represented a spectrum from painters to poets, singer/songwriters to stand ups and the presentations unearthed theological insights touching on pneumatology, spiritual pilgrimage, the doctrine of Imago Dei, and more.

And although we鈥檇 planned an expanded class day to hear everyone鈥檚 presentations in person, the move to online teaching due to March鈥檚 shelter-at-home order meant the presentations were recorded in a way that could be viewed beyond just our class. I鈥檓 pleased to share two of those with you here, a small sampling of the theological insights, cultural readings, and creative connections brought forth through these students鈥� work.
–

A Theology of Life in the Worlds of Miyazaki Hayao

by Lori Bailey, an MATC student

“I had the privilege of sitting beneath the work of someone who has been a creative muse of mine for many years, the Japanese animator, filmmaker, and master storyteller Miyazaki Hayao. Best known as the co-founder of Studio Ghibli, his films have unquestionably altered the very shape of the animation industry and captivated the hearts of millions of viewers. A man of deep thought and nuanced feeling, Miyazaki’s keen perceptions of our complex world鈥攁nd how he translates these into story and visual artistry鈥� guided me as I spent 13 weeks reconsidering his films and what they have to say about humanity, nature, death, and life.”

A Reckoning of History & Our Place in It: Kara Walker

by Mercedes Robinson, an MATC student

“Kara Walker is an African American artist most notable for her detailed silhouettes and elaborate sculptures. As an artist, Walker aims to challenge, critique, and re-envision historical narratives and cultural norms that exist in society pertaining to race, injustice, sexism, and violence. The most important lesson I have learned since engaging Walker’s work is the importance of my body and my narrative as a biracial womxn alive in such a complex and challenging time in our collective history. My body, my truth, and my selfhood are whole, complete, and deeply sacred, regardless of the subtle and not-so-subtle ways the outside world attempts to invalidate that fact.”

The post Theology Through Art: Student Work on Miyazaki Hayao and Kara Walker appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

These words of the prophet Jeremiah situate themselves in a devastating part of Judah鈥檚 history鈥攖he destruction of Jerusalem. As it lay in ruins, Jeremiah speaks of what the community is collectively grieving in the death of their beloved city and the thrust into exile for the third time.听 They are a people desperate for hope. For restoration. For shalom. says that, 鈥淪halom requires lament鈥� because its very nature is to 鈥渆mbrace the suffering other.鈥�¹ In a time when we as God’s people yearn for a collective shalom, we are reminded that we must first enter into a collective lament.

On April 8, 天美视频鈥檚 Sacred Space group hosted a virtual lament service to create a space for individual and collective mourning over the losses of what we knew as life. Faculty, staff and students gathered to see the faces of the suffering other and to collectively lament鈥攊n song, word, and prayer. We ended our time by praying through a poem by Christine Valters Painter, pausing at each stanza to write the names of those heavy on our hearts, to write our laments, our pain, our grave sense of scattered losses. It was a raw and beautiful time to pour our hearts out like water in the presence of the Lord.

During the service, artist and alumnus Kate Creech ² acted as a witness to our community lament and created this piece of art to hold our feelings of confusion, anger, and grief. As she scrolled through the suffering faces and words of those in attendance, her brushstrokes acted as 鈥渆xpressions of what was both spoken and unspoken.鈥� We are grateful for her witness and illustration of this sacred evening.听

Artwork by Kate Creech

While the service is over, our lament is not. Grief will continue to come in waves as we endure the changes we have been forced to adapt to and as we long for the presence of the ones we live life with the most.听听

How are you grieving? In what creative and available ways have you found for your bodies to express its pain?听 Kate reminds us that artistic expressions can act as a mouthpiece for our souls鈥� greatest afflictions, containers for our unspeakable laments. We stand suspended in a time that knows not its return to life as we knew it. As you hold these tensions and uncertainties, know that our is necessary to see our shalom.听听听

Sacred Space is curating a virtual gallery to offer space to communally share how we are processing in this season. We would love to be witnesses to the ways you have been showing up with yourself to grieve and lament.听 to submit a photo of your art, a written piece, a recording of you playing music, or any other form of processing. In the coming weeks you can visit the Intersections blog to see artists highlighted.

The post A Lament: Processing Amidst a Pandemic appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

I distinctly remember sitting in my apartment on the westside of Chicago, surrounded by the noise and clamor of my neighborhood, when I was notified of my admission to 天美视频. I had begun to fall in love with the under-resourced neighborhood I had moved into to live in intentional presence with my neighbors, to live out the values I ascribed to through my work and personal convictions. I was hesitant and excited to step into the possibility of graduate school鈥攌nowing it would mean major upheaval, loss, and also great possibility.

When I said yes to 天美视频, the next six weeks felt like an almost paralyzing state of transition, on the threshold of learning what it is to remain in a liminal space. In a strange way, that time of liminality allowed me to resonate with my under-resourced neighbors in a unique way鈥攑eople who are constantly experiencing displacement, loss, joy, grief, and so admirably holding it all in tandem with a hope like I鈥檝e never known.

That disruptive and exciting feeling of transition did not end when I finally made it to the Emerald City from the Windy City. Even after several months, I still unabashedly described myself as 鈥渋n transition.鈥� That said, over time, I could feel bits of myself that had been scattered start to settle into place. I learned to developed a new set of rhythms between work, school, and trying to create a sense of place and community here.

I have taken to referring to this time as a wilderness. As a student, I was asked to invite the transformative possibility of engaging, naming, celebrating, and grieving my own story. I would much rather engage, name, celebrate, or grieve the story of those around me, but I learned very quickly that my ability to engage the stories and heartache of those around me required that I first do that work for myself. How dare I imagine otherwise? At the end of first year, my Listening Lab Facilitator applauded me for learning how to show myself the same compassion I extend to others. My capacity for grace and mercy for others was expanding as I learned to engage my story with the same gentleness.

In the midst of this journey, we are encouraged not to rush through to the other side, but rather to dwell in the wilderness. I have come to believe this is a profoundly beautiful and necessary task. Like the nation of Israel in the Old Testament, I believe the pillar of cloud and light goes before me as a figure of hope.

One of the most memorable images from my first term was part of a lecture on our capacity for hope. We looked at a well-known image of modern dancer and choreographer Martha Graham, known for creating a movement language based on the expressive capacity of the human body. Dr. Chelle Stearns referred to this sweeping motion as a 鈥済esture of hope.鈥� Such a gesture is only achieved through intentional practice. Like Martha Graham, we practice ourselves into a hopeful posture. As a result, we must learn to bless what life is in this moment鈥攁ll that we are holding: possibility, potential, all that is unresolved in our hearts. I have no doubt that Martha Graham endured hours of practice and her fair share of pain to achieve such a gesture. So it is with hope. What a beautiful emblem of the resurrection!

As a part of the Artist鈥檚 Way class that spring, I completed a creative project inspired by Martha Graham鈥檚 gesture of hope. In an effort to practice my own posture of hopefulness, I created a flip book that traced the movement of the dancer into the full gesture of hope. 35 small drawings of a dancer and her sweeping motion. At the presentation of our creative projects, I shared my piece and how my neck ached and my eyes burned after several late nights drawing and re-drawing only slight variations of the same motion. 鈥淎h, yes. But that is what it is to practice a hopeful gesture,鈥� Dr. Stearns commented. She was right. In the very execution and embodiment of my project, I had tasted hope. It is bittersweet but absolutely worth it.

I hope that in the days to come, my little flip book can serve as a reminder of the beauty we鈥檙e working towards. Like that pillar of light in the wilderness, it calls us back to the wilderness at our feet and the promise of a Presence that transcends our circumstance.

In one of the readings I encountered as a student, the author noted a poem by Julia Esquivel. She says we have been “threatened with resurrection鈥� and this is what keeps us up at night. I can鈥檛 imagine a better reason for a vigilant night than the profoundly hopeful and startling threat of resurrection.

Join us in this vigil
and you will know what it is to dream!
Then you will know how marvelous it is
to live threatened with Resurrection!
鈥揓ulia Esquivel,

If Jessica鈥檚 story of hope resonates with you, and if you鈥檙e wondering if 天美视频 might be part of the next chapter in your own journey, we鈥檇 love to chat. It鈥檚 not too late to join our 2019 cohort starting this fall, and the next application deadline is June 24. Learn more at .

The post Alumni Story: Entering the Wilderness appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.

Of course it is all too easy to tune out our bodies, to ignore how they communicate our need for nurture. What are the practices that help us listen to our bodies? What are the rhythms and rituals that connect us to those deep, vulnerable parts of our bodies and souls that are crying out for care? Our students and alumni have been wrestling with these questions in beautiful, creative ways for many years, and we often turn to their voices when we need to remember how to be present in our bodies. Today we鈥檙e sharing a few of those voices鈥攖houghtful presentations inviting us to engage the rituals, rhythms, and age-old practices that draw us back to our deeply human need for nurture. And if you鈥檇 like to join us in the gift of learning from the integrative and insightful work of our students, save the date for the annual Integrative Project Symposium on May 31.

At our second annual Symposia in 2016, Heather Stringer (, 鈥�10) presented 鈥淏reaking Frozen Seas: How Rituals of the Body Transform Clients and Communities,鈥� exploring how intentional, sensual rituals open us to learning from our bodies as we pursue healing from trauma. 鈥淚 think our body longs to teach us, it longs to mother us, it longs to remind us,鈥� says Heather. 鈥淎nd without ritual, we foreclose creativity and shared open language about what is happening, and we dissociate.鈥�

鈥淚 think our body longs to teach us, it longs to mother us, it longs to remind us.鈥�

Also at Symposia 2016, Jenny McGrath (MACP, 鈥�15) talked about 鈥淗ealing Trauma Through Movement,鈥� sharing how dance had been an avenue of healing and growth in her own life, and how movement and dance can be used therapeutically to bring counseling and rehabilitation for trauma survivors. Jenny shares about her work in northern Uganda, researching the therapeutic power of movement in the wake of war and exploring how dance can help communicate emotional realities that are beyond language. 鈥淲e are affected not just neurologically, but neuro-physiologically when we go through trauma. We are not just floating heads,鈥� says Jenny. 鈥淪o there needs to be some form of engagement with our bodies if we are truly to develop a sustainable model for people to recover from their trauma.鈥�

At Symposia 2017 Jenny Wade (MACP, 鈥�13), a therapist and founder of in Seattle, shared about 鈥淔inding Beauty in Embodied Resistance.鈥� In this profound talk, Jenny starts with the disgust that so many people feel toward their bodies, and the million ways we are taught to believe that our bodies are not worth trusting. 鈥淚 believe that bodies are good,鈥� says Jenny. 鈥淭hey are good, and they are wise, and they are beautiful. [鈥 But trauma, both collective and personal, separates us from the felt experience of our body. When we experience trauma, our body feels foreign. Our body doesn鈥檛 feel like it鈥檚 ours.鈥�

(For more on this, we also deeply appreciated J. Knox Burnett鈥檚 (MACP, 鈥�13) presentation, )

When we are more fully connected to our bodies, we are more able to attune to spiritual practices and soul care. This is much of the work that Lacy Clark Ellman (MA in Theology & Culture, 鈥�12) fosters in her work as a spiritual director. In 2017, Lacy presented 鈥淏eyond Borders: Cultivating Awareness, Resilience, and Transformation through the Practice of Pilgrimage.鈥� In 2017 she shared about the ancient art of pilgrimage and the archetypal human stories that have so much to reveal about the journey of separation, initiation, and return. 鈥淭his adventure of the hero and journey of the pilgrim is built within each one of us,鈥� says Lacy. 鈥淎nd claiming it as our own, we are aligning with our divine imprint as seekers of the sacred.鈥�

(Kate Davis [Master of Divinity, 鈥�15] also powerfully reflected on the transformative insights of ancient human stories in her Integrative Project presentation, )

Across cultures and generations, these categories of initiation, wilderness, and pilgrimage have been central to questions of what it means to be fully human鈥攁nd yet for many of us, they feel so foreign today. That鈥檚 why we appreciated this Symposia 2016 presentation from Doug Wheeler (MA in Counseling, 1987), 鈥淣avigating the Masculine Journey with 鈥楽herpas鈥� Nouwen, Jung, and Peck.鈥� Doug reflects on the archetypes that help clarify the terrain and trajectory of human pilgrimage. 鈥淭here is no entry fee, but it will cost you plenty to make this journey. Pack a lunch, lose your map, travel lightly.鈥�

On May 31 we鈥檒l gather to hear from students in our Master of Divinity and MA in Theology & Culture programs as they present on the projects that serve as a capstone of their time in graduate school. The Integrative Project Symposium is always an inspiring, grounding, and thought-provoking time. All are welcome!

The post Nurturing Body and Soul Through Rituals, Movement, and Story appeared first on 天美视频 of Theology & Psychology.