YO(GA) MAMA

Over at his blog this week, Tim Challies posted a link to an article by Albert Mohler entitled "Should Christians Practice Yoga?" Wow - what I read nearly knocked my socks off. Definitely not an article for the timid or faint of heart!

I routinely attended a yoga class several years ago at our (then) local YMCA. It didn't take me long to realize that there was a difference between "practicing" yoga and "doing" yoga. I was interested in developing muscle flexibility and proper body alignment, not "finding my inner source of strength and energy." Clara, our instructor, would shoot me a disapproving glance in the fitness room mirrors when I snorted or giggled at her instructions to "empty your mind and find your place of inner peace." Seemed to me some folks were taking this yoga business a tad too seriously!

Anyway, after reading Dr. Mohler's article, my first thought was, "Are Christians free to eat meat that has been offered to idols?" Okay, my mind moves in weird ways. I wondered if there were parallels between the dietary practices in Corinth, and the fitness practices of some Christians today. Dr. Mohler seemed to equate yoga - of any type - with pagan religious practice, therefore making it undeniably unclean and inappropriate for believers. Some in Corinth associated particular bits of cooked meat with pagan religious practices and therefore considered them unclean. Others, however, looked at the meat and saw...well, just a piece of meat. Dinner. Paul's discourse doesn't seem to imply that the issue at hand was the roasted meat, but rather the conscience of the individual diner.

So back to yoga...is a forward bend or a leg lunge necessarily anti-thetical to sincere Christian faith? I think that depends on what's going on in the mind of the individual. Dr. Mohler writes, "...if you have to meditate intensely in order to achieve or maintain a physical posture, it is no longer a physical posture." Which leads to another question - is there a difference between meditating and concentrating? If no difference exists, then almost every athletic/physical discipline seems to be suddenly called into question. What about the ballerina, dancing on pointe? The major league ball player, perfecting his home-run? If a difference does exist, then is it possible to do yoga (and concentrate) without practicing yoga (and meditating)?

I have to admit that when I work through my routine each afternoon, I am NOT emptying my mind, searching for my inner center of energy, or channeling. No, I'm watching a CD lecture on American History. The yogi who truly "practices" yoga would say I'm not really doing yoga at all, although they would recognize many of the movements and positions. Sure, when I'm standing tall on one leg (like a "tree") and trying not to wobble, I'm aware of my body alignment and balance. I'm also thinking about significant figures in America's Great Awakening, or the industrialization of American cities, or the construction of the first trans-continental railroad. Clara would be appalled!

I think the key to understanding Dr. Mohler's concern hinges on that particular word "practice." Is a forward bend a posture for meditation? Or is it a way to stretch tight back and leg muscles? The tone of the article seems to communicate that exercise in any way related to yoga is contrary to Christian faith. Dr. Mohler writes, "When Christians practice yoga, they must either deny the reality of what yoga represents or fail to see the contradictions between their Christian commitments and their embrace of yoga."

After reading Dr. Mohler's article, I have to admit that I would feel uncomfortable doing yoga in front of someone who didn't know me. What if they misconstrued my actions as some form of pagan religious practice? What if they assumed I was trying to "channel the energy of the universe," instead of relying on Christ for my strength and purpose? (Then again, I wouldn't feel comfortable working out in front of a stranger anyway - for vanity's sake. Too many jiggles! Too much puffing! But vanity will have to be a topic reserved for another post.)

Back to 1 Corinthians 8...After reading this article, I agree that those whose consciences are weak in this area should not be doing yoga. And no one who claims Christ should be practicing yoga. That said, I'll be rolling out my sticky mat on the living room floor this afternoon for another session of stretching and toning, while Professor Patrick Allitt talks to me about the Richard Nixon and Watergate. And tonight - it's pork chops for dinner. Guilt free.

I found Dr. Mohler's article very thought-provoking. I need this kind of challenge to make every thought, every action captive to Christ. Thoughts, anyone?

SABBATH

Gary came and mowed the field around the house Friday. Saturday, he raked hay into windrows, and by evening he was rolling bales.

A newly mown and baled hayfield looks so neat and tidy. And it smells delicious, like freshly baked bread.

A dear friend gave me a porch swing as a house-warming gift when my family first moved into this house-in-the-hayfield. For almost 25 years, I have sat and swayed in this swing, watching the hay grow, the seasons change, the bustle of traffic on the highway and the ebb and flow of vehicles down the long gravel driveway that we share with the house next door.

This porch has witnessed a lot of laughter, music, tears, long conversations lasting deep into the night. It has absorbed two-and-a-half decades of popsicle drips, beer-bottle sweat, and dog slobber. It has hosted family dinners, church gatherings, weddings, graduation parties, and after-funeral pot-lucks.

Pheobes come back every year to nest atop the posts lining the porch. This morning as I sit here on the swing and write, mama bird eyes me warily while she warms her second clutch of eggs. This evening, a clever brown toad will hop up the front steps to feast on insects drawn to the light streaming from the kitchen windows, while a flat green tree frog will climb right up the windows themselves.

As I sit here and sway, sipping tea and listening to the birds and enjoying the morning breeze, it is strange and somehow deeply calming to think that I have traveled almost 25 laps around the sun while sitting in this very same spot.

* * * * *

In healthcare, we preach a lot - and are preached to a lot - about good nutrition, regular exercise, sleep hygiene, stress management. In nursing school, we were exhorted to be "good examples" of healthy lifestyle choices for our patients.

Yeah, right.

In January, determined to better in my pursuit of healthy lifestyle choices, I resolved to take at least a 15-minute break every workday to mentally and physically step away from work - maybe walk one lap around a local park, or just pull off the road, roll down the car windows, and admire the beauty of a lake - in an attempt to better mange job-related stress. Should be easy, right? Six months later, I can count on one hand the number of times I actually took that break.

I am doing better about packing healthy lunches and making fewer corn-dog-&-tots runs to Sonic, but I eat that healthy lunch on the fly, racing from one patient's home to the next. I am intentional about drinking more water, but I still drink way too much caffeine.

I actually like to exercise - and I absolutely love yoga - so you'd think regular exercise would be a fairly easy habit to maintain. But the yoga mat and gym clothes camped out in the back seat of my work vehicle haven't been touched in a month: they are held hostage by long days and never-ending demands.

BUT TODAY...

Today, I have a couple of hours of rest from the stress of work (provided the on-call alarm on my phone doesn't shriek) and from the demands of my household (only two more loads of laundry to finish and one bed that needs clean sheets).

Today, I am swaying in the porch swing (Thank you, Katherine!), bathed by a cool fresh breeze, listening to the sweet, sweet music of birdsong, inhaling deeply the smell of freshly baked bread.

* * * * *

Thank you, thank you, thank you for asking, Lahrue - your checking in means so much. It's been a rough several weeks, but I am fighting to come up for air.

CARRY ON, WARRIOR

I am currently reading Glennon Melton's memoir, Carry On, Warrior:  The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life. Glennon is all about telling the truth as she sees it, living honestly with herself, endeavoring to match her "outside" self to her "inside" self.

Three pages into the book, she writes:

"Then, one day I was at the playground with a new friend from church named Tess. I suspected that Tess was having trouble in her marriage. We hadn't talked about this, though, because we were too busy talking about more important things, like soccer practice and highlights. I felt frustrated that our conversation never went deeper. We seemed incapable of discussing the very things that were most important to discuss.

"Lost in my frustration, I started thinking about all the time and effort I'd spent building protective layers between my broken heart and the broken world. I considered the ways I'd distanced myself from other people - people who might hurt me more than I was already hurting. People who might be disgusted if they saw the real me. My fear of really being seen had driven me to hide inside the bunker of addiction for decades. When I finally crawled out, I pulled on my secrets and shame like armor and carried my invulnerability like a weapon. Life, to me, had always seemed like a battle to survive. But there at the playground, I realized that surviving wasn't enough anymore. Sitting there with Tess, I realized I wasn't really sitting there with Tess at all. There were so many layers of my armor and her armor between us that we couldn't touch each other. And even if we'd wanted to, we couldn't have gotten close enough because we were shooting each other with stories about our 'perfect' lives.

"Suddenly, this all seemed completely ridiculous."

Glennon decided then to put down her armor, put down her weapons, and, in her words, "walk out onto the battlefield of life naked." She started telling the truth - about herself, her family, her marriage, her life in this broken, messed up, "brutiful" world.

A few of my thoughts as I read Carry On, Warrior:

First, Glennon is a wonderful writer and story teller. I disagree with much of her theology/philosophy, but I appreciate her candor. I appreciate the fact that she is willing to say - yes, life is hard, and sometimes it doesn't make sense - without having to try to explain why bad is not so bad and painful is not so painful. Yet, she writes about difficult realities with a definite spice of joy and humor. The chapter about the time she wore a new padded yoga top to the gym, with the tags still on it, will make you snort coffee out your nose and is worth the cost of the book. "Easter," the chapter in which she shares a painful letter to her husband about the lack of intimacy and the frustration she feels concerning their crumbling marriage, should be required reading for every man on the planet.

Second, I think Glennon must have an extremely brave family. In the dedication at the front of the book, Glennon tells how her mother came to her and confessed how painful and confusing it was for her to read Glennon's stories, how scary it was for her (Glennon's mother) to have these stories shared with friends and strangers. And yet, her mother tearfully encouraged Glennon:  "I am so proud of you. I am in awe of what you and God have done together. You have to tell your stories. This is what you were meant to do. Don't stop telling your stories, Honey." That is one brave Mama.

The courage of Glennon's family - her parents, her husband, her children, her friends - astounds me, because inevitably, Glennon's truth-telling about the mess in her own life means exposing the truth about some of the mess in theirs. And yet the stories are told from Glennon's perspective, her point-of-view/experience:  Tish and Bubba and Craig are not the writers, and they don't get to interject their sides of the stories into Glennon's manuscript. I am completely awed by the love and courage demonstrated by the people closest to Glennon as they encourage her in her resolve to walk "naked" onto the battlefield of life, because this means that they, too, must at times stand naked beside her. They love her and value her work enough that they are willing to do just exactly that, as painful and scary as that may be. Wow.

While Glennon is refreshingly honest about the messiness - and the beauty - of life in a fallen world, you will not find sound biblical doctrine on which to build your life in Carry On, Warrior. On the contrary, you'll encounter a jello salad of Christianity-for-me, new-age spiritualism, and eastern mysticism.

But Glennon openly admits that the point of her writing is not to say "Here is how you make sense of it all" - but rather, to say "You are not alone. You have value. This life is hard, but it is also worth living. I understand your struggles and I will stand with you." That, my friends, is huge. She offers a soft shoulder to cry on and a warm heart with which to share life's hilarities. She is a warrior on the battlefield, giving generously of herself to encourage other warriors who dare to show up for life.