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Grounded by Diana Butler Bass
The headlines are clear: Religion is on the decline in America as many people leave behind traditional religious practices. In this follow-up to her critically acclaimed book Christianity After Religion, Diana Butler Bass argues that what appears to be a decline actually signals a major transformation in how people understand God. The distant God of conventional religion has given way to a more intimate sense of the sacred with us in the world. This shift is at the heart of a spiritual revolution that surrounds us--and that is challenging religious, political, and social institutions. Grounded explores this cultural turn as Bass unpacks how people are finding new spiritual ground by discovering and embracing God everywhere in the world around us: in the soil, the water, the sky, in our homes and neighborhoods, and in the global commons. Faith is no longer a matter of mountaintop experience or institutional practice; instead, people are connecting with God through the environment in which we live. Grounded guides listeners through our contemporary spiritual habitat as it points out the many ways in which people experience a God who animates creation and community.
Hardcover
First published January 1, 2015
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About the author
Diana Butler Bass
33 books252 followersDiana Butler Bass is an author, speaker, and independent scholar specializing in American religion and culture. She holds a PhD in religious studies from Duke University and is the author of seven books, including the bestselling Christianity for the Rest of Us, released by HarperOne in 2006. It was named as one of the best religion books of the year by Publishers Weekly and Christian Century, won the Book of the Year Award from the Academy of Parish Clergy, and was featured in a cover story in USA Today. Her much-anticipated next book, A People's History of Christianity, will be released in March 2009 from HarperOne. She is currently Senior Fellow at the Cathedral College of the Washington National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. Bass regularly consults with religious organizations, leads conferences for religious leaders, and teaches and preaches in a variety of venues.
Bass blogs at Progressive Revival on Beliefnet and Sojourners' God's Politics. She regularly comments on religion, politics, and culture in the media including USA Today, Time, Newsweek, The Washington Post, CNN, FOX, PBS, and NPR. From 1995 to 2000, she wrote a weekly column on American religion for the New York Times syndicate. She has written widely in the religious press, including Sojourners, Christian Century, Clergy Journal, and Congregations.
From 2002 to 2006, she was the Project Director of a national Lilly Endowment funded study of mainline Protestant vitality—a project featured in Newsweek, U.S. News and World Report, The Washington Post, and the Los Angeles Times. Bass also serves on the board of directors of the Beatitudes Society.
She has taught at Westmont College, the University of California at Santa Barbara, Macalester College, Rhodes College, and the Virginia Theological Seminary. She has taught church history, American religious history, history of Christian thought, religion and politics, and congregational studies.
Bass and her husband, Richard, live with their family in Alexandria, Virginia. She is a member of the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany in downtown Washington, D.C.
Bass blogs at Progressive Revival on Beliefnet and Sojourners' God's Politics. She regularly comments on religion, politics, and culture in the media including USA Today, Time, Newsweek, The Washington Post, CNN, FOX, PBS, and NPR. From 1995 to 2000, she wrote a weekly column on American religion for the New York Times syndicate. She has written widely in the religious press, including Sojourners, Christian Century, Clergy Journal, and Congregations.
From 2002 to 2006, she was the Project Director of a national Lilly Endowment funded study of mainline Protestant vitality—a project featured in Newsweek, U.S. News and World Report, The Washington Post, and the Los Angeles Times. Bass also serves on the board of directors of the Beatitudes Society.
She has taught at Westmont College, the University of California at Santa Barbara, Macalester College, Rhodes College, and the Virginia Theological Seminary. She has taught church history, American religious history, history of Christian thought, religion and politics, and congregational studies.
Bass and her husband, Richard, live with their family in Alexandria, Virginia. She is a member of the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany in downtown Washington, D.C.
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November 4, 2015
I admit to being skeptical about Bass pulling off a book with similar themes to so many recent releases, but this one is different, deeper, more focused, and better framed than many other books on ecological spirituality. The frame is one familiar to Bass's readers: we are at the cusp of a spiritual revolution, in which old, hierarchical theologies and churches are being rejected, while panentheist (God-in-the-world) views are increasingly wide-spread. And rather than simply treating "untouched" nature, Bass discusses the beauty and value to be found in even polluted rivers, and the groundedness provided by human institutions and preoccupations, such as the neighborhood and the family tree. Very readable, often surprising, and highly recommended.
December 10, 2015
Unlike some of her past work, where Diana stands on the mountain, giving us a broad overview of spirituality in our current landscape, this intriguing and beautiful book invites us to participate deeply in God’s work from the ground level. We stand beside her as she plays in the soil and walks along glistening rivers. We continue the conversation with her as she moves into the science of stewardship and the theology of presence. “I didn’t want to write a book about spirituality. I wanted to write an invitation to spirituality,” Diana said, “I wanted to show, not tell.”
I spent some time with Diana in the last couple of days, talking about the book. I asked her how she came to write it, and she explained how she was keeping up with her demanding speaking schedule, speeding along from airports to hotel rooms. When she finally got home, it was a beautiful day. She joined her family in the backyard, slumped in a chair, with the sun beating down on her, she sighed, “I wish somebody would just ground me.”
Richard, her husband, asked, “What grounds you anyway?”
Diana thought about it, and realized that writing grounded her.
Also, it felt like an important time in her life, the harvesting of middle age. She wanted to find all the places her ancestors farmed, so she began the quest of looking at family stories. Then her hungry curiosity kept spurring her. She wondered how the “what grounds you” question was connected with God and she wanted to explore it. Then the subject turned her to larger questions, about climate change and quantum physics. She delved into the data, facts, and research that pointed toward spirituality in culture.
The result is a profound and literary book, one that will be a touchstone in my thinking for years to come, as I imagine institutions, nature, and the presence of God.
My conversation with Diana ended with a blessing, of sorts. It was accidental and engaging, slipping out like a child’s prayer that suddenly provokes the sacred. And so I share Diana's words with you and with our Church:
“Let’s go dig in our lives. The focus of spirituality should always be now. Don’t get wrapped up in what might be, but what is. Live responsibly toward God.”
I spent some time with Diana in the last couple of days, talking about the book. I asked her how she came to write it, and she explained how she was keeping up with her demanding speaking schedule, speeding along from airports to hotel rooms. When she finally got home, it was a beautiful day. She joined her family in the backyard, slumped in a chair, with the sun beating down on her, she sighed, “I wish somebody would just ground me.”
Richard, her husband, asked, “What grounds you anyway?”
Diana thought about it, and realized that writing grounded her.
Also, it felt like an important time in her life, the harvesting of middle age. She wanted to find all the places her ancestors farmed, so she began the quest of looking at family stories. Then her hungry curiosity kept spurring her. She wondered how the “what grounds you” question was connected with God and she wanted to explore it. Then the subject turned her to larger questions, about climate change and quantum physics. She delved into the data, facts, and research that pointed toward spirituality in culture.
The result is a profound and literary book, one that will be a touchstone in my thinking for years to come, as I imagine institutions, nature, and the presence of God.
My conversation with Diana ended with a blessing, of sorts. It was accidental and engaging, slipping out like a child’s prayer that suddenly provokes the sacred. And so I share Diana's words with you and with our Church:
“Let’s go dig in our lives. The focus of spirituality should always be now. Don’t get wrapped up in what might be, but what is. Live responsibly toward God.”
December 15, 2015
(3.5) This is a book of experiential theology, about knowing where we come from and being grounded in the Earth we live on through farming and gardening – our connections back to Eden. The author speaks of the divine as “the god of dirt” and “the heartbeat of love at the center of all things.” I enjoyed how she made things personal by discussing her immigrant ancestors and the fact that she has now moved between 10 states; people are less rooted in particular places than they used to be. Back in the Washington, D.C. area where she grew up, she’s learning to appreciate the Potomac anew: “Things look different from the ground.” This all flies in the face of received notions such as the vertical or ‘elevator’ theology that says God is somewhere up there rather than down here among us.
I’d recommend this to readers of Kathleen Norris and Wendell Berry.
I’d recommend this to readers of Kathleen Norris and Wendell Berry.
February 14, 2017
I needed this one. In the Trump era, I'm finding myself asking "Where is God?" more often. This book.is a reminder that I'm not alone in seeking a horizontal God in the world. I do wish that I had read the early chapters while sitting in nature rather than listening on my commute. It's harder to find God in nature while stuck in traffic. But the later chapters especially reflected my longing for community and compassion in the world. Both seem in short supply.
November 15, 2015
I need to start by noting a friendship of long-standing with the author of this book. I've read almost all her books. We have followed somewhat parallel life paths. But as I picked up this particular book I wondered if our paths may have begun to part somewhat. Grounded is a very personal book. Diana still brings in to the conversation her keen observational skills that are rooted in her training as a historian. But this is more a testimony to a new direction in her spiritual journey. While she hasn't left Christianity or the church behind, she has begun to let go of some of the ties that bind her. She has begun to dip her toes in the waters of spiritual but not religious. I certainly understand why more and more people are letting go of religion (institutional religion) and embracing a more personal spirituality. But I'm still embedded in church. Perhaps that is due to my profession. I remain employed by a religious institution.
With this said I share a bit about Diana's latest book, in which she shares her sense of what it means to be a person of faith in the twenty-first century. In her previous book Christianity After Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening Diana offered up a vision of Christianity that was less tied to the institution and one that is able to participate in what she suggested was a new great awakening. I picked up on that vision in my own book on spiritual gifts Unfettered Spirit: Spiritual Gifts for the New Great Awakening. In Grounded Diana begins a spiritual journey that looks for God in the world, and not only in the church.
The question that pervades the book is this: Where is God? She begins the journey by looking for God in the world. The theological perspective guiding this journey is panentheism, a theological vision that assumes that while God and the world are not one and the same, God is to be found in the world and not outside the world. The focus is on immanence not transcendence. Her journey embraces the resources of mysticism. With that in mind she seeks to be grounded in the world that God inhabits.
The book is composed of two parts. Part one is entitled Natural Habitat. Under this heading she explores dirt, water, and sky. She points out that by and large we have become estranged from dirt. It's something many of us have tried to avoid, or clean off as soon as possible. Yet this is the ecosystem that supports life. We as human beings are, according to Genesis, created from the dirt. And the environmental movement has called us to take care of the dirt that sustains us. As for water -- it does play an important role in Christian experience -- baptism -- but again water is nature. It too is essential for life, and Jesus speaks of himself as living water. As for the sky, traditional understandings of God have posited that God is to be found in the heavens (sky). But Diana has a broader vision, one that embraces the cosmos. It's not just a vertical faith, but a very horizontal one that embraces sky/cosmos.
From Nature she moves to what she calls Human Geography. I must admit that this is where I found myself most comfortable. I found her chapter on roots especially good. Perhaps it is because we have become so mobile that there is increasing interest in our roots. My family and I took a trip to Upstate New York this past summer in part because I wanted to touch base with the region where my father was born. I'd never been to Syracuse or Skanatles, and I felt the need to check these places out. Diana goes on her own journey and discovers among other things family roots in an early Quaker community in Maryland. Though she is an Episcopalian, her emerging spirituality seemed to resonate with this Quaker heritage. Her conversation about spiritual DNA was also intriguing because of one of my own projects. But here's the thing. I'm concerned that if our institutions falter we will lose one of our key resources for passing on the story of faith. If for no other reason I feel the need to do what I can to preserve that resource.
There is much to explore in the chapter on roots, but I must move on to the chapter titled "Home." Home is where we belong. Having lived a fairly mobile life there isn't just one place to call home. I can resonate with that. I've lived in many places, and so I'm not sure where to call home, except perhaps where I find myself at this moment. Like Diana, Santa Barbara has been home. Thus when I read her speak of this common place (she moved from Santa Barbara just prior to my family moving there in 1998). Home is more than a place it is a relationship between people. But home and family are changing, and the question is how will faith communities adapt? While home can be a place of joy, she shares the reality that it can also be a dangerous place. From home we move to neighborhood. Jewish and Christian faith teaches us to love our neighbor. The question that we all face has been who is the neighbor. Jesus sought to broaden the vision with the parable of the Samaritan. She offers up in this chapter a common ground spirituality, one that expands the neighborhood. There need to be fences of sort, a way to both include and bring order. Noting our tendency toward tribalism, she offers us a sense of open tribes, one where hospitality to the stranger is paramount. Or, another way of putting it is Golden Rule Spirituality, one that seeks to break through boundaries.
The final chapter in the section Human Geography is titled "Commons." The Commons is an old word, that speaks of a shared space, a place with open permeable borders. More than any chapter, this one speaks of a broader religious/spiritual vision. She envisions a world commons, one that allows us to embrace the world and all its peoples. She offers a spirit of unity, even as she recognizes that we're not all ready to share the common space. Interestingly, even as she embraces a broader spirituality, she is able to bring into the conversation the Christian practice of Communion. While Communion is often, perhaps most often, a rather exclusive experience for Christians, she notes that meals are places of community and thus an opportunity to broaden the Table fellowship. While fear dominates many of our conversations she offers compassion as an alternative. That is a vision to not only consider, but embrace.
The book has both a conclusion (titled Revelation -- the introduction is titled Genesis) and an afterword. The conclusion draws on the vision of Revelation of the Heavenly Jerusalem descending upon the Earth. What is needed in this age of religious decline is a spirituality that is grounded, earthy. It is there that we encounter God in an ever evolving and emerging journey. The Afterword is titled "A Note to the Church." It is a word of warning of sorts to the church to be aware that things are changing. What was isn't connecting people to God. Neither conservative nor liberal is working. So where is the God who isn't limited to the church?
This is a challenging book. At points I'm not sure I'm ready to follow. Diana has more confidence in the "spiritual but not religious" community. I'm afraid that something is going to fall through the cracks. Who is going to continue to tell the story in a world that picks and chooses what it likes and repackages in ways that might not tell the whole story. On the other hand, isn't that what religious traditions, including my own, continue to do?
Once again Diana has written a winsome and thoughtful book. She is an author paramount. She has found her voice, and perhaps that is true more here than in her other recent books that are written from a more academic perch. Take and read and consider where God is to be found!
With this said I share a bit about Diana's latest book, in which she shares her sense of what it means to be a person of faith in the twenty-first century. In her previous book Christianity After Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening Diana offered up a vision of Christianity that was less tied to the institution and one that is able to participate in what she suggested was a new great awakening. I picked up on that vision in my own book on spiritual gifts Unfettered Spirit: Spiritual Gifts for the New Great Awakening. In Grounded Diana begins a spiritual journey that looks for God in the world, and not only in the church.
The question that pervades the book is this: Where is God? She begins the journey by looking for God in the world. The theological perspective guiding this journey is panentheism, a theological vision that assumes that while God and the world are not one and the same, God is to be found in the world and not outside the world. The focus is on immanence not transcendence. Her journey embraces the resources of mysticism. With that in mind she seeks to be grounded in the world that God inhabits.
The book is composed of two parts. Part one is entitled Natural Habitat. Under this heading she explores dirt, water, and sky. She points out that by and large we have become estranged from dirt. It's something many of us have tried to avoid, or clean off as soon as possible. Yet this is the ecosystem that supports life. We as human beings are, according to Genesis, created from the dirt. And the environmental movement has called us to take care of the dirt that sustains us. As for water -- it does play an important role in Christian experience -- baptism -- but again water is nature. It too is essential for life, and Jesus speaks of himself as living water. As for the sky, traditional understandings of God have posited that God is to be found in the heavens (sky). But Diana has a broader vision, one that embraces the cosmos. It's not just a vertical faith, but a very horizontal one that embraces sky/cosmos.
From Nature she moves to what she calls Human Geography. I must admit that this is where I found myself most comfortable. I found her chapter on roots especially good. Perhaps it is because we have become so mobile that there is increasing interest in our roots. My family and I took a trip to Upstate New York this past summer in part because I wanted to touch base with the region where my father was born. I'd never been to Syracuse or Skanatles, and I felt the need to check these places out. Diana goes on her own journey and discovers among other things family roots in an early Quaker community in Maryland. Though she is an Episcopalian, her emerging spirituality seemed to resonate with this Quaker heritage. Her conversation about spiritual DNA was also intriguing because of one of my own projects. But here's the thing. I'm concerned that if our institutions falter we will lose one of our key resources for passing on the story of faith. If for no other reason I feel the need to do what I can to preserve that resource.
There is much to explore in the chapter on roots, but I must move on to the chapter titled "Home." Home is where we belong. Having lived a fairly mobile life there isn't just one place to call home. I can resonate with that. I've lived in many places, and so I'm not sure where to call home, except perhaps where I find myself at this moment. Like Diana, Santa Barbara has been home. Thus when I read her speak of this common place (she moved from Santa Barbara just prior to my family moving there in 1998). Home is more than a place it is a relationship between people. But home and family are changing, and the question is how will faith communities adapt? While home can be a place of joy, she shares the reality that it can also be a dangerous place. From home we move to neighborhood. Jewish and Christian faith teaches us to love our neighbor. The question that we all face has been who is the neighbor. Jesus sought to broaden the vision with the parable of the Samaritan. She offers up in this chapter a common ground spirituality, one that expands the neighborhood. There need to be fences of sort, a way to both include and bring order. Noting our tendency toward tribalism, she offers us a sense of open tribes, one where hospitality to the stranger is paramount. Or, another way of putting it is Golden Rule Spirituality, one that seeks to break through boundaries.
The final chapter in the section Human Geography is titled "Commons." The Commons is an old word, that speaks of a shared space, a place with open permeable borders. More than any chapter, this one speaks of a broader religious/spiritual vision. She envisions a world commons, one that allows us to embrace the world and all its peoples. She offers a spirit of unity, even as she recognizes that we're not all ready to share the common space. Interestingly, even as she embraces a broader spirituality, she is able to bring into the conversation the Christian practice of Communion. While Communion is often, perhaps most often, a rather exclusive experience for Christians, she notes that meals are places of community and thus an opportunity to broaden the Table fellowship. While fear dominates many of our conversations she offers compassion as an alternative. That is a vision to not only consider, but embrace.
The book has both a conclusion (titled Revelation -- the introduction is titled Genesis) and an afterword. The conclusion draws on the vision of Revelation of the Heavenly Jerusalem descending upon the Earth. What is needed in this age of religious decline is a spirituality that is grounded, earthy. It is there that we encounter God in an ever evolving and emerging journey. The Afterword is titled "A Note to the Church." It is a word of warning of sorts to the church to be aware that things are changing. What was isn't connecting people to God. Neither conservative nor liberal is working. So where is the God who isn't limited to the church?
This is a challenging book. At points I'm not sure I'm ready to follow. Diana has more confidence in the "spiritual but not religious" community. I'm afraid that something is going to fall through the cracks. Who is going to continue to tell the story in a world that picks and chooses what it likes and repackages in ways that might not tell the whole story. On the other hand, isn't that what religious traditions, including my own, continue to do?
Once again Diana has written a winsome and thoughtful book. She is an author paramount. She has found her voice, and perhaps that is true more here than in her other recent books that are written from a more academic perch. Take and read and consider where God is to be found!
February 9, 2016
I have waited to craft my response to reading this book in order to temper my deep frustration with it. It seems not to have worked.
Grounded is not what it claims to be. It claims to offer an answer to the ground shift in American theology/religion. She writes in the intro: “it makes perfect sense that we are making our spiritual lives as well, crafting a new theology. And that God is far more personal and close at hand than once imagined.” That we would craft God in and of itself is remarkably frightening, but that’s not the point. The majority of the book delves into tangential points regarding soil and air and water. As an environmentalist, I appreciate the importance of conserving our land, preserving our water. As a resident of the mid-Atlantic and someone sentenced to three years living in Northern Virginia/DC, I understand the importance of working on the Potomac River Watershed. However, these chapters are not connected to her intention for the book. While reading, I was wracking my brain to understand why she would include these chapters. I concluded that she had done some research and wanted to fill page counts required by her editor.
Near the end of the book, she gets around to why she wrote it. Finally, there seems to be a conclusion to this meandering text. She includes a story which most infuriated me. I am not someone who gets too particularly riled up by patriotism. To be a member of the kingdom of God means that I’m not too lock-step behind the kingdom of this world. The singing of the national anthem in church bothers me significantly. I believe it bothers Bass as well. However, I do not evacuate the sanctuary once someone who is preaching has a different bent on patriotism than I do. In this particular story, the pastor of her church invites someone from the government to speak on what happened on September 11, 2001. They mention the American soldiers killed since the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, but do not mention civilian counts and Iraqi forces. And Bass bolts from the sanctuary, leading to a text message from her husband “Are you coming back to church?”
Her departure reveals her frustration with anyone who disagrees with her. That response stands in opposition to her thesis – the revolution we’re experiencing in America is a remaking of religion and that’s okay. What she is not okay with is with people who disagree with her. Despite her well researched book, her response is hypocritical to the max…which is why many people in America have turned away from Christianity.
Also, her discussion of the cosmic horizon makes almost zero sense…wish she had cleared this up. What comes across is a bunch of gobbledygook that she passes off as transcendent wisdom.
That’s not to say the book doesn’t shine in other areas. Her description of neighborhoods should be required readings for churches that are involved or would like to be involved in their local neighborhood.
In sum, the book meanders through topics unrelated to her thesis and in the end, she is oppositional in her response to her thesis.
-----------------------
Here are some lessons I’ve learned from the book:
God is not omnipresent but interpresent, intrpresent, and infrapresent. God is not above or beyond, but integral to the whole of creation, entwined with the sacred ecology of the universe. (25)
The Industrial Revolution changed our response to the land to one of use rather than interdependency. (39).
We must be concerned with the intimacy both of Creator and human and between the interrelationship between Creator, land, human, and fertility. (43)
Wendell Barry – The idea of heaven doesn’t take religion very far. Love has to wear a face. And that Fface is our neighborhood, neighbors and other creatures, along with the earth and its inhabitants.” (52)
Water metaphors discerned by Ian Bradley, professor: source of life, image of heaven, location of human encounters with God; meataphor of death; journey to the next world, union with divine, wisdom, feminine; hospitality; generosity; holiness; healing. (74)
Air is vital just like God. *111*
“Modern history gave us the gift of knowing more about our ancestors, while it eroded our capacity to dwell with those who have gone before.” (141) really think she’s on to something here
Golden rule will make a difference in our neighborhoods. And the farther the proximity to another, the easier it is to dehumanize another. (221) yes.
Walking can make a neighborhood anew. (228)
The hope for our country and for religion is connection and compassion. (222) I can get behind that.
Grounded is not what it claims to be. It claims to offer an answer to the ground shift in American theology/religion. She writes in the intro: “it makes perfect sense that we are making our spiritual lives as well, crafting a new theology. And that God is far more personal and close at hand than once imagined.” That we would craft God in and of itself is remarkably frightening, but that’s not the point. The majority of the book delves into tangential points regarding soil and air and water. As an environmentalist, I appreciate the importance of conserving our land, preserving our water. As a resident of the mid-Atlantic and someone sentenced to three years living in Northern Virginia/DC, I understand the importance of working on the Potomac River Watershed. However, these chapters are not connected to her intention for the book. While reading, I was wracking my brain to understand why she would include these chapters. I concluded that she had done some research and wanted to fill page counts required by her editor.
Near the end of the book, she gets around to why she wrote it. Finally, there seems to be a conclusion to this meandering text. She includes a story which most infuriated me. I am not someone who gets too particularly riled up by patriotism. To be a member of the kingdom of God means that I’m not too lock-step behind the kingdom of this world. The singing of the national anthem in church bothers me significantly. I believe it bothers Bass as well. However, I do not evacuate the sanctuary once someone who is preaching has a different bent on patriotism than I do. In this particular story, the pastor of her church invites someone from the government to speak on what happened on September 11, 2001. They mention the American soldiers killed since the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, but do not mention civilian counts and Iraqi forces. And Bass bolts from the sanctuary, leading to a text message from her husband “Are you coming back to church?”
Her departure reveals her frustration with anyone who disagrees with her. That response stands in opposition to her thesis – the revolution we’re experiencing in America is a remaking of religion and that’s okay. What she is not okay with is with people who disagree with her. Despite her well researched book, her response is hypocritical to the max…which is why many people in America have turned away from Christianity.
Also, her discussion of the cosmic horizon makes almost zero sense…wish she had cleared this up. What comes across is a bunch of gobbledygook that she passes off as transcendent wisdom.
That’s not to say the book doesn’t shine in other areas. Her description of neighborhoods should be required readings for churches that are involved or would like to be involved in their local neighborhood.
In sum, the book meanders through topics unrelated to her thesis and in the end, she is oppositional in her response to her thesis.
-----------------------
Here are some lessons I’ve learned from the book:
God is not omnipresent but interpresent, intrpresent, and infrapresent. God is not above or beyond, but integral to the whole of creation, entwined with the sacred ecology of the universe. (25)
The Industrial Revolution changed our response to the land to one of use rather than interdependency. (39).
We must be concerned with the intimacy both of Creator and human and between the interrelationship between Creator, land, human, and fertility. (43)
Wendell Barry – The idea of heaven doesn’t take religion very far. Love has to wear a face. And that Fface is our neighborhood, neighbors and other creatures, along with the earth and its inhabitants.” (52)
Water metaphors discerned by Ian Bradley, professor: source of life, image of heaven, location of human encounters with God; meataphor of death; journey to the next world, union with divine, wisdom, feminine; hospitality; generosity; holiness; healing. (74)
Air is vital just like God. *111*
“Modern history gave us the gift of knowing more about our ancestors, while it eroded our capacity to dwell with those who have gone before.” (141) really think she’s on to something here
Golden rule will make a difference in our neighborhoods. And the farther the proximity to another, the easier it is to dehumanize another. (221) yes.
Walking can make a neighborhood anew. (228)
The hope for our country and for religion is connection and compassion. (222) I can get behind that.
August 22, 2016
I have long considered myself a panentheist and it's lovely to see a theological book embracing this concept, as do most pagan religions and early Celtic Christianity -- the idea that God is with or in all things. This is not to be confused with pantheism, which believes God IS the idol, the tree, the bird, the rock... whatever.
It is what I feel when I say I am companioned and feel divine presence in nature.
Bass posits this is something of a new concept taking hold in the religious world, and I disagree, although would concede it's been overshadowed by the (Roman) concept that God is beyond creation, outside of it. That philosophy has led to the idea that the body, the earth, the creatures of the earth, water, and sky, are polluted and in need of a good scrubbing my baptism (among other things).
The other part of this book, and I would argue the one to which she's given more heft, is eco-theology. She argues the sacredness of all of earth -- nothing new to indigenous people of course -- and our responsibility to care for it, and thereby, to care for God's astounding creation, and for each other.
If this sort of thinking is new to you, this is a great place to start, and Bass is an intelligent and trusted guide. It's also a fine meditation on finding the Sacred all around us.
It is what I feel when I say I am companioned and feel divine presence in nature.
Bass posits this is something of a new concept taking hold in the religious world, and I disagree, although would concede it's been overshadowed by the (Roman) concept that God is beyond creation, outside of it. That philosophy has led to the idea that the body, the earth, the creatures of the earth, water, and sky, are polluted and in need of a good scrubbing my baptism (among other things).
The other part of this book, and I would argue the one to which she's given more heft, is eco-theology. She argues the sacredness of all of earth -- nothing new to indigenous people of course -- and our responsibility to care for it, and thereby, to care for God's astounding creation, and for each other.
If this sort of thinking is new to you, this is a great place to start, and Bass is an intelligent and trusted guide. It's also a fine meditation on finding the Sacred all around us.
March 5, 2016
“Where is God?” is one of the most consequential questions of our times.”
God is in the soil. God is in the water. God is in the sky. God is in our roots. "Our roots are intertwined. We are all related to each other. We belong to each other." God is in our home. "Home is a place where God somehow meets us - where we belong." God is in our neighborhood. "We know God through our neighbors."
Diana's book has helped me change the way I think about God. God is now and has become much, much, larger than I previously envisioned.
This book is not only a call to find God but also a call to take better care of the earth that we all share. Because God is in the soil, the water, the sky, our homes and our neighborhoods, we must seriously consider our roles as custodians of the soil, the water, the sky, our homes, and our neighborhoods!
Read this book. You will not be disappointed. Where is God? God is right here! God is with us and all around us! We need to shift our thinking from a God in the sky looking down at us to a God-with-us. "The spiritual revolution is the shift from a vertical God to God-with-us.”
God is in the soil. God is in the water. God is in the sky. God is in our roots. "Our roots are intertwined. We are all related to each other. We belong to each other." God is in our home. "Home is a place where God somehow meets us - where we belong." God is in our neighborhood. "We know God through our neighbors."
Diana's book has helped me change the way I think about God. God is now and has become much, much, larger than I previously envisioned.
This book is not only a call to find God but also a call to take better care of the earth that we all share. Because God is in the soil, the water, the sky, our homes and our neighborhoods, we must seriously consider our roles as custodians of the soil, the water, the sky, our homes, and our neighborhoods!
Read this book. You will not be disappointed. Where is God? God is right here! God is with us and all around us! We need to shift our thinking from a God in the sky looking down at us to a God-with-us. "The spiritual revolution is the shift from a vertical God to God-with-us.”
November 19, 2016
I read this book, a chapter every day or two before and after the 2016 election. It's relevance for this time is astounding. As author Diana Butler Bass states, many of us "feel disoriented as we consider what we should do next." The pervasive discord and divisiveness of this time call us again to return to our natural habitat of dirt, water, and sky. Then, we must consider our human geography: roots, home, neighborhood, commons, and finally revelation - in which "heaven comes to us. The end of history is not destruction; rather its end is sacred restoration."
I hope to share this book soon in a church based study and discussion group. Perhaps others will do the same. We all need the reminder: "together we can build a spiritual architecture of loving God and neighbor, the God who dwells with us in grace."
Let's pray and meditate on this, "Listen for the whisper of God everywhere. Work for justice. Know that your life is in communion with all life." We need this listening, justice-doing, revolutionary-all-at-the-table faith, now more than ever.
I hope to share this book soon in a church based study and discussion group. Perhaps others will do the same. We all need the reminder: "together we can build a spiritual architecture of loving God and neighbor, the God who dwells with us in grace."
Let's pray and meditate on this, "Listen for the whisper of God everywhere. Work for justice. Know that your life is in communion with all life." We need this listening, justice-doing, revolutionary-all-at-the-table faith, now more than ever.
September 4, 2015
In this highly recommended read, Diana Butler Bass takes faith and our church on to the next level. She has written extensively already about postmodern Christianity, the spiritual-but-not-religious phenomenon, and the so-called end of church. In Grounded she takes a look at what's next and it is uplifting and heart-stirring. Our church is not dying, but we are changing, and for the good. Our walls are coming down. Faith is no longer vertical.
I could keep going, but I'd rather you read her book. Read all her books, go hear her speak. She is a necessary voice right now.
I could keep going, but I'd rather you read her book. Read all her books, go hear her speak. She is a necessary voice right now.
April 28, 2023
This book is worth it for the introduction, conclusion and afterward alone. The chapters can get a little clunky, but her overall message is the cry of my heart.
“Much to my surprise, church has become a spiritual, even a theological struggle for me. I have found it increasingly difficult to sing hymns that celebrate a hierarchical heavenly realm, to recite creeds that feel disconnected from life, to pray liturgies that emphasize salvation through blood, to listen to sermons that preach an exclusive way to God, to participate in sacraments that exclude others, and to find myself confined to a hard pew in a building with no windows to the world outside. This has not happened because I am angry at the church or God. Rather, it has happened because I was moving around in the world and began to realize how beautifully God was everywhere: in nature and in my neighborhood, in considering the stars and by seeking my roots. It took me five decades to figure it out, but I finally understood. The church is not the only sacred space; the world is profoundly sacred as well. And thus I fell into a gap - the theological ravine between a church still proclaiming conventional theism with its three-tiered universe and the spiritual revolution of God-with-us.”
“All those statistics - the ones about decline - point toward massive theological discontent. People still believe in God. They just do not believe in the God proclaimed and worshipped by conventional religious organizations. Some of the discontented - and there are many of them - do not know what to call themselves. So they check the “unaffiliated” box on religion surveys. … They still believe in God but have abandoned conventional forms of congregating. Still others declare themselves “done” with religion. They slink away from religious communities, traditions that once gave them life, and go hiking on Sunday morning. Some still go to church, but are hanging on for dear life, hoping against hope that something in their churches will change. They pray prayers about heaven that no longer make sense and sing hymns about an eternal life they do not believe in. They want to be in the world, because they know they are made of the same stuff as the world and that the world is what really matters, but some nonsense someone taught them once about the world being bad or warning of hell still echoes in their heads. They are afraid to say what they really think or feel for fear that no one will listen or care or even understand. They think they might be crazy. All these people are turning toward the world because they intuit that is where they will find meaning and awe, that which those who are still theists call God.”
“Much to my surprise, church has become a spiritual, even a theological struggle for me. I have found it increasingly difficult to sing hymns that celebrate a hierarchical heavenly realm, to recite creeds that feel disconnected from life, to pray liturgies that emphasize salvation through blood, to listen to sermons that preach an exclusive way to God, to participate in sacraments that exclude others, and to find myself confined to a hard pew in a building with no windows to the world outside. This has not happened because I am angry at the church or God. Rather, it has happened because I was moving around in the world and began to realize how beautifully God was everywhere: in nature and in my neighborhood, in considering the stars and by seeking my roots. It took me five decades to figure it out, but I finally understood. The church is not the only sacred space; the world is profoundly sacred as well. And thus I fell into a gap - the theological ravine between a church still proclaiming conventional theism with its three-tiered universe and the spiritual revolution of God-with-us.”
“All those statistics - the ones about decline - point toward massive theological discontent. People still believe in God. They just do not believe in the God proclaimed and worshipped by conventional religious organizations. Some of the discontented - and there are many of them - do not know what to call themselves. So they check the “unaffiliated” box on religion surveys. … They still believe in God but have abandoned conventional forms of congregating. Still others declare themselves “done” with religion. They slink away from religious communities, traditions that once gave them life, and go hiking on Sunday morning. Some still go to church, but are hanging on for dear life, hoping against hope that something in their churches will change. They pray prayers about heaven that no longer make sense and sing hymns about an eternal life they do not believe in. They want to be in the world, because they know they are made of the same stuff as the world and that the world is what really matters, but some nonsense someone taught them once about the world being bad or warning of hell still echoes in their heads. They are afraid to say what they really think or feel for fear that no one will listen or care or even understand. They think they might be crazy. All these people are turning toward the world because they intuit that is where they will find meaning and awe, that which those who are still theists call God.”
October 10, 2023
I loved the content of this book. It dragged on a little long for me though.
There were so many great quotes, and I highlighted a ton that is worth remembering and thinking about further. A lot was relevant to my dissertation, too. But here are a couple highlights that also summarize the content.
"If we understand that we are dirt, that God is the ground of all that is, well, then, we might think twice about how we treat soil. If water is the river of spiritual and physical life, we will care about what we are doing to watersheds. If air sustains us and we are made of stardust, then the sky and what happens to it matters. Knowing our own roots is the first step in knowing ourselves and recognizing our common humanity. Making a home is a radical act of claiming a place in the world. Being neighborly is the path to empathy, of enacting the Golden Rule. Building the commons, the "we" of our world house, is to pull the vision of heaven out of the clouds to earth here and now. We are constantly creating a sacred architecture of dwelling -of God's dwelling and ours--as we weave nature and the built environment into a web of meaning. Awe and action are of a piece." (216 in ebook)
"The good news is that God is closer than ever before, and many people are making new connections with the spirit of love and life to heal the broken places of the world. The spiritual revolution does not destroy the church-unless, of course, the church ignores it, denies it, dismisses it, or pushes it away.
It is surprisingly easy to join in: get off the elevator, feel your feet on the ground, take a walk or hike, plant a garden, clean up a watershed, act on behalf of the earth, find your roots, honor your family and home, love your neighbor as yourself, and live the Golden Rule as you engage the commons. Pay attehtion. Play. Sing new songs, recite poetry, write new prayers and liturgies, learn sacred texts, make friends with those of other faiths, celebrate the cycles of the seasons, and embrace ancient wisdom. Weep with those who mourn. Listen for the whisper of God everywhere. Work for justice. Know that your life is in communion with all life." (225 in ebook)
There were so many great quotes, and I highlighted a ton that is worth remembering and thinking about further. A lot was relevant to my dissertation, too. But here are a couple highlights that also summarize the content.
"If we understand that we are dirt, that God is the ground of all that is, well, then, we might think twice about how we treat soil. If water is the river of spiritual and physical life, we will care about what we are doing to watersheds. If air sustains us and we are made of stardust, then the sky and what happens to it matters. Knowing our own roots is the first step in knowing ourselves and recognizing our common humanity. Making a home is a radical act of claiming a place in the world. Being neighborly is the path to empathy, of enacting the Golden Rule. Building the commons, the "we" of our world house, is to pull the vision of heaven out of the clouds to earth here and now. We are constantly creating a sacred architecture of dwelling -of God's dwelling and ours--as we weave nature and the built environment into a web of meaning. Awe and action are of a piece." (216 in ebook)
"The good news is that God is closer than ever before, and many people are making new connections with the spirit of love and life to heal the broken places of the world. The spiritual revolution does not destroy the church-unless, of course, the church ignores it, denies it, dismisses it, or pushes it away.
It is surprisingly easy to join in: get off the elevator, feel your feet on the ground, take a walk or hike, plant a garden, clean up a watershed, act on behalf of the earth, find your roots, honor your family and home, love your neighbor as yourself, and live the Golden Rule as you engage the commons. Pay attehtion. Play. Sing new songs, recite poetry, write new prayers and liturgies, learn sacred texts, make friends with those of other faiths, celebrate the cycles of the seasons, and embrace ancient wisdom. Weep with those who mourn. Listen for the whisper of God everywhere. Work for justice. Know that your life is in communion with all life." (225 in ebook)
September 17, 2023
Yet another author explaining why people no longer attend churches and religion is becoming less and less important. The author has some great points about God being around us and how we are connected through the world, both the environment and humanity.
Yet, like several authors I have read before her, I still get the impression, despite claims of loving and welcoming all, that there are people who would not be welcomed at her table. Like many i read before her, her political beliefs strongly came through in her examples of those she thought to be narrow-minded and not apart of what she wants. It's hard to accept the message when this attitude comes through quite condescendingly. Whatever happened to meeting and loving people where they are at? Isn't that ultimately what compassion and christ-like love is?
Sadly she pretends to be all for comminity and the world by showing up for a street festival, yet what about simply being with someone who is not like you in their time of need or supporting businesses in neighborhoods not like her own? She also condemns people for living in gated communities, yet I got from her writing she lives in one too, maybe without physical gates but still cuts off the poor and those unlike her from living there.
Again, some.good thoughts to process and ponder, but I just see the author as another let me just pick things based on what I feel.is the correct truth from my privileged place of life.
Yet, like several authors I have read before her, I still get the impression, despite claims of loving and welcoming all, that there are people who would not be welcomed at her table. Like many i read before her, her political beliefs strongly came through in her examples of those she thought to be narrow-minded and not apart of what she wants. It's hard to accept the message when this attitude comes through quite condescendingly. Whatever happened to meeting and loving people where they are at? Isn't that ultimately what compassion and christ-like love is?
Sadly she pretends to be all for comminity and the world by showing up for a street festival, yet what about simply being with someone who is not like you in their time of need or supporting businesses in neighborhoods not like her own? She also condemns people for living in gated communities, yet I got from her writing she lives in one too, maybe without physical gates but still cuts off the poor and those unlike her from living there.
Again, some.good thoughts to process and ponder, but I just see the author as another let me just pick things based on what I feel.is the correct truth from my privileged place of life.
January 8, 2024
Although this book is almost at it's ten-year mark, I feel it is just as important today in this current age.
Something personal for me is how we've navigated the world (esp as an "early" Gen Z) with wars, pandemics, current political and economic crises, and just our own personal traumas that it can be exceedingly difficult to continue with the constructs of what we call "organized religion". Deconstruction has been a more popular term to use for what I think Diana Bass describes well, if more so. Finding God, whatever that means to you, in the people and things around us.
Reading this book filled that search that I was doing for around a year or two, in that I didn't feel we were empathizing enough with our "neighbors" and that our compassion was limited, especially in our politics (even in the church!). So what does that mean for people like me who no longer feel those two very core characteristics in the church? To go somewhere else and find it, hence the higher statistics of those who don't belong to an organized religion but are "spiritual". It's a path I feared to take but this book is amazing at diverting how we truly feel and applying it in a way that there is no shame or loss.
I won't give the answers because I think Diana Bass does a wonderful job spelling it out- but God is out there through everything. The more I think about it, the more I've found him outside the walls of a building than where our religion says we should, and I think it's also a testament to how we should live our faith outside these walls too.
Something personal for me is how we've navigated the world (esp as an "early" Gen Z) with wars, pandemics, current political and economic crises, and just our own personal traumas that it can be exceedingly difficult to continue with the constructs of what we call "organized religion". Deconstruction has been a more popular term to use for what I think Diana Bass describes well, if more so. Finding God, whatever that means to you, in the people and things around us.
Reading this book filled that search that I was doing for around a year or two, in that I didn't feel we were empathizing enough with our "neighbors" and that our compassion was limited, especially in our politics (even in the church!). So what does that mean for people like me who no longer feel those two very core characteristics in the church? To go somewhere else and find it, hence the higher statistics of those who don't belong to an organized religion but are "spiritual". It's a path I feared to take but this book is amazing at diverting how we truly feel and applying it in a way that there is no shame or loss.
I won't give the answers because I think Diana Bass does a wonderful job spelling it out- but God is out there through everything. The more I think about it, the more I've found him outside the walls of a building than where our religion says we should, and I think it's also a testament to how we should live our faith outside these walls too.
December 1, 2021
As someone who for many years has presented papers on the intersection of geography and religion, I was thrilled to see so many themes of geography ending up in how the author saw her spiritual practice at the moment. She begins the book with a look at the physical geography of our lives and and how our ecology can influence our faith practices. Diana Butler Bass then moves onto the human geography of our lives and how we relate to one another from our family to our neighbors and in the commons of our lives. I had not read her writing before but will continue to explore her books after reading this book.
November 22, 2023
This might be a good book for you if you are new to integrating spiritual practices into your everyday interactions with nature and you liked Walden.
It’s a no for me though. The introduction turned me off immediately. Bass mentions a lot of hardships and tragedies that are going on in the world and acts like they’re new. Maybe she’s writing about recent events that are salient to her, but I think if she’s going to talk about world issues then she should try to take the perspectives of others into consideration more. Reeks of white privilege.
It’s a no for me though. The introduction turned me off immediately. Bass mentions a lot of hardships and tragedies that are going on in the world and acts like they’re new. Maybe she’s writing about recent events that are salient to her, but I think if she’s going to talk about world issues then she should try to take the perspectives of others into consideration more. Reeks of white privilege.
July 24, 2017
This book is amazing. Highly recommend.
April 25, 2019
“Although some still worship a distant majesty and others deny divine existence, many millions of contemporary people experience God as far more personal and accessible than ever before...Roiling around the planet is a shifting conception of God. In a wide variety of cultures, God has become unmediated and local, animating the natural world and human world in profoundly intimate ways. Of course, this has always been the path of mystics, which I call the “minor chord” of faith. Now, however, the personal, mystical, immediate, and intimate is emerging as the dominant way of engaging the divine. What was once reserved for a few saints has now become the quest of millions around the planet- to be able to touch, feel, and know God for one’s self.”
“Without thinking, I fell to my knees and uttered, “Thank you.” Then, with no intention of doing so, I leaned forward and kissed the beach, wanting every part of my body to touch the wet earth. Tears streamed down my face and mingled with the sea at the continent’s edge. If people had seen me, they might of thought I was a fervent Muslim prostrating in prayer, a sun worshipper at morning devotion, to dedicated evolutionist thanking her ancestors for coming out of the waters. But I was just a person taking a walk at first light, someone who, overwhelmed with the beauty of the earth, the water, and the sky, was quite literally, pulled to the ground by gratitude. God is here.”
Finally, a well thought out defense of the “spiritual, but not religious” group that I belong to. This book was beautiful, and resonated with me as no theology book has before. The layers were absorbing, from dirt and water and sky to community and neighbors, and it was a call to protect our planet as well as a discussion of the ways the Bible are time bound and no longer speak to us. I remember being so very disappointed when most theologians are Christian; to me, the study of god means to study all the ways humans worship the divine. This author is a true theologian, then; she is Christian but has broken with organized religion, and wrote the book to defend herself, and therefore me, from people who denigrate our beliefs.
Annie Dillard introduced the concept of panentheism to me, the belief that God is part of the universe, within each fragment (similar to Kabbalistic/Hasidic zimzum or tikkun, the shards of divine light that we are tasked to redeem)or that the universe is contained within God. This is a theme in Hindu and Buddhist teachings as well. we are all interconnected in a web or a tree of life, and the divine is expressed in our compassion, our wonder, our awe, our acts.”
“We must abandon the external height images in which the theistic God has historically been perceived and replace them with internal depth images of a deity who is not apart from us, but who is the very core and ground of all that is.” Paul Tillich
There have been very distinct threads and paths in my own spiritual evolution, and they are intricately linked with geology, study of world wisdom traditions, meditations, nature, and experiences that I can’t explain any other way, but as a manifestation of the divine. This book includes many similar stories with a compelling theological argument that was exhilarating.
I am not a Christian, so I think of my more mystical experiences as less God manifesting the divine, but more the ineffable part of wonder and awe that humans have just attempted to define, imperfectly and sometimes harmfully. Since the first time I felt it, that I felt the need to fall to my knees and worship, I have felt in various situations and places, and always, always, it inspires me to love more and to give more, which is the inexplicable benefit of being open to the universe and its wisdom.
The parts on neighbors and community were different than the nature chapters; they seemed to meander a bit and seemed quite mundane; but it was again a call to the Golden Rule and manifesting that in all our interactions with all people of every place and age and background. I feel the holiness in my daily work with people of stunning diversity (over 100 languages at my clinic) so I understand what she is framing and explicating, but it was less powerful than the nature chapters.
Overall, a wonderful, fascinating read that legitimizes other ways of worshipping the divine, and rescues us from the nonsense and intolerance of those who believe their way is the only way. It is not.
“We are powerfully connected to the ground, and the soil is intimately related to how we understand and celebrate God. The late Irish Catholic priest and philosopher John O’Donohue called the land “the firstborn of creation” and the “condition of the possibility of everything.” The earth itself, he insisted, holds the memory of the beginning of all things, the memory of God.”
“Heaven as a place is not much of a mystery. Traditionally it is the divine real estate at the top level of a three-tiered universe, but that structure is giving way to a different sacred arrangement. We are here, on this planet, walking around on the same ground, depending on the soil for life. And God is with us. Earth is not an illusion, a tragic dream, to a spiritual metaphor (that Heaven has been thought of as).”
The god of dirt
Came up to me many times and said
So many wise and delectable things, I lay
On the grass listening
To his dog voice,
Crow voice,
Frog voice: now,
He said, and now,
And never once mentioned forever.
Mary Oliver
“Water is the blood of the earth, and flows through its muscles and veins....it is accumulated in heaven and earth, and stored up in vacuous things of the world. It comes forth in metal and stone, and is concentrated in living creatures. Therefore it is said that water is something spiritual.” Chuang-tzu
“Water is so ubiquitous in spiritual traditions that there are eighteen different metaphors for it common to most world religions-including water as a metaphor for heaven or paradise, the location of human encounters with God, and the source of life. It functions as a metaphor for death and the journey to the next world, union with the divine, wisdom, and the sacred feminine.”
“It’s easy to see how water makes us feel better physically and mentally better, but there is a spiritual benefit as well; neurological studies about water bear a striking resemblance to studies conducted on prayer and meditation. People who are near or in water express higher levels of happiness and often demonstrate better health outcomes; so too do people who pray and meditate. Wallace Nichols connects water with meditation, saying, “Blue Mind is a mildly meditative state characterized by calm, peacefulness, unity, and a sense of general happiness and satisfaction with life in the moment. It is inspired by water and elements associated with water, from the color blue to the words we use to describe the sensations associated with immersion. It takes advantage of neurological connections formed over millennia, many such brain patterns and preferences being discovered now.”
“My Potomac River sojourn deepened my spiritual vocabulary. Initially, I did not understand riparian zones, seeing them as a mucky barrier to the river. The irises taught me that the riparian zone seems to be an apt metaphor for life. Neither the surety of firm ground nor the excitement of the clear current, the muddy edge of the river is its most vital feature. The riparian zone is remarkable like what some faith traditions refer to as liminal space, the uncertain territory between two more certain realities...this is the geography of trust and transformation...”
“Our lives are like a watershed, where everything flows towards the oceans; and the watershed is the metaphorical setting for the journey.”
“Thomas Berry argues that our culture needs a “new story” to guide it into a less destructive ecological age. Such a story would integrate the scientific account of the emergence of the universe with an understanding of its inherent sacredness. In Ontario, The Stations of the Cosmos is a spiral meditative walk. A spiral representing the entire 137 billion years of our cosmic and evolutionary journey is laid out on the ground. Major milestones are marked a proportional distance. Seventeen (of twenty-five) stations went by before human beings appeared...”
“[T]his impulse toward spiritual intimacy is found not only in the Abrahamic faiths, but in Buddhism, Hinduism, and native religions. Far too many people who understand God in these ways probably do not know how rich the tradition is that speaks of God with us, God in the stars and sunrise, God as the face of their neighbor, God in the act of justice, or God as the wonder of love. The language of divine nearness is the very heart of vibrant faith. Yet it has often been obscured by vertical theologies and elevator institutions, which, I suspect, are far easier to both explain and control. Drawing God within the circle of the world is a messy and sometimes dangerous business.”
“Much to my surprise, church has become a spiritual, even a theological struggle for me. I have found it increasingly difficult to sing hymns that celebrate a hierarchical heavenly realm, to recite creeds that feel disconnected from life, to pray liturgies that emphasize salvation through blood, to listen to sermons that preach an exclusive way to God, to participate in sacraments that exclude others, and to find myself confined to a hard pew in a building with no windows to the world outside. This has not happened because I am angry at the church or God. Rather, it has happened because I was moving around in the world and began to realize how beautifully God was everywhere: in nature and in my neighborhood, in considering the stars and by seeking my roots. It took me five decades to figure it out, but I finally understood. The church is not the only sacred space; the world is profoundly sacred as well. And thus I fell into a gap - the theological ravine between a church still proclaiming conventional theism with its three-tiered universe and the spiritual revolution of God-with-us.”
“Sometimes critics decry spirituality as individualism, but they miss the point. Spirituality is personal, yes. To experience God’s spirit, to be lost in wonder, is something profound that we can all know directly and inwardly. That is not a problem. The real problem is that, in the last two centuries, religion has actually allowed itself to become privatized. In the same way that our political and economic concerns contracted from “we” to “me,” so has our sense of God and faith. In many quarters, religion abandoned a prophetic and creative vision for humanity’s common life in favor of an individual quest to get one’s sorry ass to heaven. And, in the process, community became isolated behind the walls of buildings where worship experiences corresponded to members’ tastes and preferences and confirmed their political views.”
February 8, 2021
As always, Diana Butler Bass is great at giving words to the feeling in the air. This books is a great conversation starter, and introduction for those who are scared of the death of the Western Church. She is just dipping her toe into something much larger and more exciting, but that is beyond the scope of this book.
April 8, 2024
Where is God?
I used to sit next to Diana in class at college. If I remember right, we were in Greek 3 together, writing exegetical papers for Dr. Silva on the book of Galatians. I bet she got a better grade than I did; I should of copied off of her papers.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and recommend it to you, not because I knew Diana briefly in college, but because this is a marvelous book.
Answering the question, Where is God? is a noble yet difficult task – at least for those of us who struggle with the question and strongly desire a non-trite answer. Diana delivers. And right up front, her last chapter is a masterpiece. The chapters can be summarized by the common heading/thread based on the attempt to answer this question:
“Where is God?” and the Dirt
“Where is God?” and Water
“Where is God?” and the Sky
“Where is God?” and Roots
“Where is God?” and Home
“Where is God?” and the Neighborhood
“Where is God?” and the Commons
As I said above, the last chapter was my favorite…
Read the full review: https://thetempleblog.com/book-review...
I used to sit next to Diana in class at college. If I remember right, we were in Greek 3 together, writing exegetical papers for Dr. Silva on the book of Galatians. I bet she got a better grade than I did; I should of copied off of her papers.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and recommend it to you, not because I knew Diana briefly in college, but because this is a marvelous book.
Answering the question, Where is God? is a noble yet difficult task – at least for those of us who struggle with the question and strongly desire a non-trite answer. Diana delivers. And right up front, her last chapter is a masterpiece. The chapters can be summarized by the common heading/thread based on the attempt to answer this question:
“Where is God?” and the Dirt
“Where is God?” and Water
“Where is God?” and the Sky
“Where is God?” and Roots
“Where is God?” and Home
“Where is God?” and the Neighborhood
“Where is God?” and the Commons
As I said above, the last chapter was my favorite…
Read the full review: https://thetempleblog.com/book-review...
October 30, 2015
I don't think this is the book many of Diana Butler Bass' readers expected. Her earlier works were more academic in nature. They were well researched and her sources were scholarly (even arcane). Her writing style, however, was always highly readable and her religious insights profound. This book is more personal and reflective. It veers more into the generically spiritual than the strictly Christian, but her style is just as readable, her insights just as profound (and some of her sources are just as arcane). I particularly liked some of unique her observations on "vertical theology"- the concept that the world is divided into heaven (above), earth (here) and hell (below).
May 20, 2016
I loved this book. One of the most timely and profound texts out these days.
I spent the last year working on my M. Div Integrative Project, which focused on rhythms of the earth and faith and the shifting, changing face of the Christian church. Dr. Butler Bass' work deeply influenced my process and discovery of language to describe what I was trying to write about. We are made to be connected and in relationship with each other, with the ground, air, water, and with the God who is incarnate, the God who is with us.
I spent the last year working on my M. Div Integrative Project, which focused on rhythms of the earth and faith and the shifting, changing face of the Christian church. Dr. Butler Bass' work deeply influenced my process and discovery of language to describe what I was trying to write about. We are made to be connected and in relationship with each other, with the ground, air, water, and with the God who is incarnate, the God who is with us.
December 7, 2015
Grounded is a good intro to panentheism for those who are unfamiliar. Especially those who find themselves uninterested in religion but still feel spiritual, there will be much to think about here.
As a post-theist myself, I don't need the God-language to give meaning to the natural and social world, but the book is still an excellent critique of the fragmentation of modern life and call back to relationship with the earth and our human communities.
Watch for my interview with the author on the Life After God podcast (available on iTunes) in the next two weeks.
As a post-theist myself, I don't need the God-language to give meaning to the natural and social world, but the book is still an excellent critique of the fragmentation of modern life and call back to relationship with the earth and our human communities.
Watch for my interview with the author on the Life After God podcast (available on iTunes) in the next two weeks.
January 28, 2016
I agreed with a lot of what this author had to say, but sometimes I had a hard time staying with her as she built her case. Story telling is her strength and I enjoyed the narratives. The expositions in between the stories didn't always feel compelling or cohesive.
May 13, 2016
Really nice job addressing American apocalypticism and presenting a comprehensive overview of scriptural texts and religious traditions in support of environmental flourishing. Could use more racial and cultural self-critique.
December 4, 2016
A very thought provoking, readable, relatable book. My first time reading Butler Bass and I found myself constantly challenged by her interesting perspectives. It was a great read to focus on spirituality in the everyday.
January 19, 2018
I am so glad I opened this book.
The author offers a tour de force of ecological theology that ends up redefining her understanding of spirituality and religion. Well worth the effort.
The author offers a tour de force of ecological theology that ends up redefining her understanding of spirituality and religion. Well worth the effort.
November 9, 2022
I absolutely loved this book.
It is a clear, warm, November day. The air is crisp and dry; its subtle movement stirs the leaves, lifting and loosening what remains attached to branches. The wind is so light that the leaves look like they are waving hello, or goodbye, more likely, as they twirl and then tumble free, falling in somersaults onto the forest floor, already golden brown and thick with their companions. In six months, they will be grown over and consumed by vinca minor and huge patches of pachysandra, until they decompose down to dirt and renourish the soil.
On the deck where I sit, puddles of dew and the misty rain that came overnight still cling to the boards in spots. Droplets have turned the taupe cushions tan and soaked through my slippers. We have lived here for five years now. It isn’t the longest we’ve lived in a house, but it’s the most rooted I’ve felt, both to the community and in this house, perhaps because of the long years we’ve spent huddled in it since the start of the pandemic. My neighbor is mowing and mulching the leaves on his lawn, and somewhere else in our neighborhood, a leaf blower turns on and off and on again. My dogs curl next to me as I write and squint in the bright November light, which makes the golden maple leaves glow.
It’s all right here, and it’s all with God, and I am with God, right here.
“Throughout my life something odd kept happening to me. God showed up,” writes Diana Butler Bass in the introduction to her book Grounded: Finding God in the World. “God, the spirit of wonder, or Jesus—it is often hard to label exactly—shows up in prayer; while walking on paths, hiking in the desert, or sitting in the sunshine; in the animals that cross my way; and in my dreams,” Bass continues. “For whatever reason, my soul has a mile-wide mystical streak.”
I put a little squiggly line under that last sentence because, girlfriend, I am so with you.
Which is why I adore Bass’s book so much. Bass uses her soul’s “mystical streak” to invite us into the way she sees God in the world, not because she has some special glasses on, but because so many of us walk around blind to the beauty and character God has revealed in his creation and in our communities. We are just too busy, too distracted, and too exhausted most of the time to sit and wax poetic about the way the leaves succumb to gravity, and other stories of love and light.
So Bass invites us to see how “there is a widespread sense that God is with us, within creation, culture, and the cosmos.” She writes, “If anything, recent decades have revealed not a dreadful, distant God, but have slowly illuminated that an intimate presence of mystery abides with the world, a spirit of compassion that breathes hope and healing.”
God With Us—All of Us
We are approaching the liturgical season of advent, the period in the church calendar that waits for and anticipates the arrival of the Messiah, Immanuel. “Immanuel” means “God with us.” It is one of the names given to describe Jesus, who promised the Spirit of Truth would be with us always (John 14:16-17). This revelation lifted the veil so that humanity could begin to see just how intimately and comprehensively God is with us. In the centuries since, as humans have explored the world, looking deeper into the universe and closer into the organisms that comprise our very being, the reality of Immanuel just keeps gathering more evidence.
“There is a pattern of God all around us—a deeply spiritual theology that relates to contemporary concerns, provides meaning and hope for the future, and possesses surprisingly rich ties to wisdom from the past,” says Bass. God is with us, all of us, and he’s demonstrating that presence in profoundly mundane spaces.
“And this revolution rests upon a simple insight: God is the ground, the grounding, that which grounds us. We experience this when we understand that soil is holy, water gives life, the sky opens the imagination, our roots matter, home is a divine place, and our lives are linked with our neighbors’ and with those around the globe.”
That one sentence forms the thesis for the remainder of Bass’s book. Divided into two parts—Natural Habitat and Human Geography—Bass explores the elemental places that give us our lives and that give our lives meaning. In Natural Habitat, chapters explore Dirt, Water, and Sky, the gritty composition of our planet that also are the places of origin for our most rich metaphors for God’s presence and character in our lives.
Then, in the section on Human Geography, Bass builds upon the foundation of these elements to show us how intrinsically connected we are to the past, to place, and to people near and far. In doing so, Bass shows us how all of this, too, is Immanuel, God with us.
This is not a truth that is limited to Bass’s experience. We are all invited into this kind of seeing and this kind of living, with eyes wide open to God’s presence in nature, in our homes, in our communities, and in our world, a kind of seeing that levels the hierarchical playing field and invites us to walk with God as God walks with us, right here, right now.
The breeze, the sun, the leaves, my dogs, my neighbors, they all welcome me into the presence of God, because they are each the face of God. Abide in this love, and we’ll together abide with God.
Originally published on Root & Vine: https://rootandvinenews.com/grounded-...
It is a clear, warm, November day. The air is crisp and dry; its subtle movement stirs the leaves, lifting and loosening what remains attached to branches. The wind is so light that the leaves look like they are waving hello, or goodbye, more likely, as they twirl and then tumble free, falling in somersaults onto the forest floor, already golden brown and thick with their companions. In six months, they will be grown over and consumed by vinca minor and huge patches of pachysandra, until they decompose down to dirt and renourish the soil.
On the deck where I sit, puddles of dew and the misty rain that came overnight still cling to the boards in spots. Droplets have turned the taupe cushions tan and soaked through my slippers. We have lived here for five years now. It isn’t the longest we’ve lived in a house, but it’s the most rooted I’ve felt, both to the community and in this house, perhaps because of the long years we’ve spent huddled in it since the start of the pandemic. My neighbor is mowing and mulching the leaves on his lawn, and somewhere else in our neighborhood, a leaf blower turns on and off and on again. My dogs curl next to me as I write and squint in the bright November light, which makes the golden maple leaves glow.
It’s all right here, and it’s all with God, and I am with God, right here.
“Throughout my life something odd kept happening to me. God showed up,” writes Diana Butler Bass in the introduction to her book Grounded: Finding God in the World. “God, the spirit of wonder, or Jesus—it is often hard to label exactly—shows up in prayer; while walking on paths, hiking in the desert, or sitting in the sunshine; in the animals that cross my way; and in my dreams,” Bass continues. “For whatever reason, my soul has a mile-wide mystical streak.”
I put a little squiggly line under that last sentence because, girlfriend, I am so with you.
Which is why I adore Bass’s book so much. Bass uses her soul’s “mystical streak” to invite us into the way she sees God in the world, not because she has some special glasses on, but because so many of us walk around blind to the beauty and character God has revealed in his creation and in our communities. We are just too busy, too distracted, and too exhausted most of the time to sit and wax poetic about the way the leaves succumb to gravity, and other stories of love and light.
So Bass invites us to see how “there is a widespread sense that God is with us, within creation, culture, and the cosmos.” She writes, “If anything, recent decades have revealed not a dreadful, distant God, but have slowly illuminated that an intimate presence of mystery abides with the world, a spirit of compassion that breathes hope and healing.”
God With Us—All of Us
We are approaching the liturgical season of advent, the period in the church calendar that waits for and anticipates the arrival of the Messiah, Immanuel. “Immanuel” means “God with us.” It is one of the names given to describe Jesus, who promised the Spirit of Truth would be with us always (John 14:16-17). This revelation lifted the veil so that humanity could begin to see just how intimately and comprehensively God is with us. In the centuries since, as humans have explored the world, looking deeper into the universe and closer into the organisms that comprise our very being, the reality of Immanuel just keeps gathering more evidence.
“There is a pattern of God all around us—a deeply spiritual theology that relates to contemporary concerns, provides meaning and hope for the future, and possesses surprisingly rich ties to wisdom from the past,” says Bass. God is with us, all of us, and he’s demonstrating that presence in profoundly mundane spaces.
“And this revolution rests upon a simple insight: God is the ground, the grounding, that which grounds us. We experience this when we understand that soil is holy, water gives life, the sky opens the imagination, our roots matter, home is a divine place, and our lives are linked with our neighbors’ and with those around the globe.”
That one sentence forms the thesis for the remainder of Bass’s book. Divided into two parts—Natural Habitat and Human Geography—Bass explores the elemental places that give us our lives and that give our lives meaning. In Natural Habitat, chapters explore Dirt, Water, and Sky, the gritty composition of our planet that also are the places of origin for our most rich metaphors for God’s presence and character in our lives.
Then, in the section on Human Geography, Bass builds upon the foundation of these elements to show us how intrinsically connected we are to the past, to place, and to people near and far. In doing so, Bass shows us how all of this, too, is Immanuel, God with us.
This is not a truth that is limited to Bass’s experience. We are all invited into this kind of seeing and this kind of living, with eyes wide open to God’s presence in nature, in our homes, in our communities, and in our world, a kind of seeing that levels the hierarchical playing field and invites us to walk with God as God walks with us, right here, right now.
The breeze, the sun, the leaves, my dogs, my neighbors, they all welcome me into the presence of God, because they are each the face of God. Abide in this love, and we’ll together abide with God.
Originally published on Root & Vine: https://rootandvinenews.com/grounded-...
October 24, 2017
Some sections of Bass' "Grounded..." are very good. Other sections are less so. In the bigger picture, what Diana Bass has to say is important and good for anyone interested in practical theology, but how you feel about her dialogue in Grounded might ultimately come down to how you feel about the lesser sections. The practical theology that she does dialogue with travels a fine line between compelling and predictable, and I think when it comes to theological interest, this can be a polarizing line. But if I could suggest anything, even if you feel stuck in seeing some of this material as rather predictable, you shouldn't miss the fact that Diana Bass is no slouch when it comes to her field of interest and research. As I mentioned, the sections that are good are very good.
If I could summarize the theological interest of Grounded, it is two fold for me. First is an interest in the growing interest in the Christian understanding of redemption as God work here on earth rather than the age old understanding of a distant God looking to take us away to heaven. Bass is interested in a theology centred around God's restoration of this world rather than its destruction, and she clearly hopes to show how this directly impacts our perception of who God is and who we are as well. To find God in the world is to ground ourselves in the work God is doing in the here and the now as he leads us towards a more hopeful future. And we, being a part of God (both figuratively and literally in the dirt and the mud of our biological environment) are called to be participants in this work. In this sense, to find God is also to find ourselves. To find God is also to see our world in both its messiness and its beauty. Or to see the beauty in the messiness.
Where Bass I think possibly caters too far to popular theology is in some of the nuances that she leaves slightly unexplored. In the lesser sections I found her making a lot of assumptions about the way we read scripture, and some of her assumptions end up creating unnecessary polarization. For example, much of her discussion depends on doing away with an old way of reading and approaching scripture, which reflects an older view of God (as a mean judge sitting in the sky). And this depends on a progressive view of history where our view of God has evolved into a higher understanding. I always find this view problematic and misleading. Evolution (in a biological sense) is not a progressive theory, nor does history present us with a clear trajectory either. To be fair, I don't think Bass ever fully commits to this line of reasoning, even if she flirts with it. She offers some notions of coming back to a purer and clearer vision of who God always was and always intended to be. Which I think is a better line of reasoning to adopt when it comes to building a practical theology.
In the end though I appreciated the way Bass weaved in out of the imagery she adopts, from dirt to water to wind, and helps us to see and to find this imagery in its proper context (and interpretation) in scripture. We are prone to be disconnected from the idea that God is revealed in nature, especially as Christians who sometimes carry tendencies to label natural revelation as the product of outside religions (and therefore dangerous). But in doing so we also tend to be disconnected from God as well. And Bass desires to help us reconnect in ways that bring us closer to God, to one another, and to our world. And I think this is a timely appeal.
If I could summarize the theological interest of Grounded, it is two fold for me. First is an interest in the growing interest in the Christian understanding of redemption as God work here on earth rather than the age old understanding of a distant God looking to take us away to heaven. Bass is interested in a theology centred around God's restoration of this world rather than its destruction, and she clearly hopes to show how this directly impacts our perception of who God is and who we are as well. To find God in the world is to ground ourselves in the work God is doing in the here and the now as he leads us towards a more hopeful future. And we, being a part of God (both figuratively and literally in the dirt and the mud of our biological environment) are called to be participants in this work. In this sense, to find God is also to find ourselves. To find God is also to see our world in both its messiness and its beauty. Or to see the beauty in the messiness.
Where Bass I think possibly caters too far to popular theology is in some of the nuances that she leaves slightly unexplored. In the lesser sections I found her making a lot of assumptions about the way we read scripture, and some of her assumptions end up creating unnecessary polarization. For example, much of her discussion depends on doing away with an old way of reading and approaching scripture, which reflects an older view of God (as a mean judge sitting in the sky). And this depends on a progressive view of history where our view of God has evolved into a higher understanding. I always find this view problematic and misleading. Evolution (in a biological sense) is not a progressive theory, nor does history present us with a clear trajectory either. To be fair, I don't think Bass ever fully commits to this line of reasoning, even if she flirts with it. She offers some notions of coming back to a purer and clearer vision of who God always was and always intended to be. Which I think is a better line of reasoning to adopt when it comes to building a practical theology.
In the end though I appreciated the way Bass weaved in out of the imagery she adopts, from dirt to water to wind, and helps us to see and to find this imagery in its proper context (and interpretation) in scripture. We are prone to be disconnected from the idea that God is revealed in nature, especially as Christians who sometimes carry tendencies to label natural revelation as the product of outside religions (and therefore dangerous). But in doing so we also tend to be disconnected from God as well. And Bass desires to help us reconnect in ways that bring us closer to God, to one another, and to our world. And I think this is a timely appeal.
September 30, 2017
"Unity is experienced in love and friendship, not in doctrine or dogma."
This is one of the central points of Diana Butler Bass' book, GROUNDED.
She begins by offering a template for understanding spiritual development.
"The spiritual revolution is the shift from vertical God to God within us."
She writes that we begin the revolution by focusing, quite literally on the physical - earth (dirt), water and sky. What she calls our "natural habitat."
Bass suggests that along this journey, there has been a divorce between our natural and spiritual selves. "Modern history gave us the gift of knowing more about our ancestors, while it eroded our capacity to dwell with those who have gone before."
"If we don't know where we came from or where we are in a story, it is difficult to imagine that we can grasp the meaning and purpose of our own lives."
For Bass, a deepened appreciation for what constitutes God can serve as a bridge to heal this un-connectedness. Instead of a upward, vertical view of God above us, Bass quotes Barbara Brown Taylor, who notes: "There is another way to conceive of our life in God, but it requires a different worldview - not a clockwork universe in which individuals function as discrete springs and gears, but one that looks more like a luminous web, in which the whole is far more than the parts. In this universe, there is no such thing as an individual apart from his or her relationships. Every interaction - between people and people, between people and things, between things and things - changes the face of history."
For human relationships, this can be summed up in the idea of Ubuntu. Bass quotes Archbishop Desmond Tutu: "The first law of our being is that we are set in a delicate network of interdependence with our fellow human beings and with the rest of God's creation."
Bass explains that the African concept of Ubuntu begins with "I am because you are," to express our interconnectedness. "We are not warring tribes," she writes. "We are the same tribe."
For Bass, most Western religions seem to go counter to this principle. "For far too long, religion has combined with nationalism or ethnicity to claim divine legitimacy for human conquests and crusades... Seeing 'our people' as the only ones who count is a little like living in a gated community. You can ignore the world beyond the walls for only so long."
She sums up the consequences of this trend in arriving at one of her major themes of GROUNDED. "When religion fails at compassion, it fails at its own test. To neglect loving your neighbor - to lack compassion - that is the problem underlying all other human problems."
Which brings us right back to one of the main points of her book. "Unity is expressed in love and friendship, not in doctrine and dogma."
This is one of the central points of Diana Butler Bass' book, GROUNDED.
She begins by offering a template for understanding spiritual development.
"The spiritual revolution is the shift from vertical God to God within us."
She writes that we begin the revolution by focusing, quite literally on the physical - earth (dirt), water and sky. What she calls our "natural habitat."
Bass suggests that along this journey, there has been a divorce between our natural and spiritual selves. "Modern history gave us the gift of knowing more about our ancestors, while it eroded our capacity to dwell with those who have gone before."
"If we don't know where we came from or where we are in a story, it is difficult to imagine that we can grasp the meaning and purpose of our own lives."
For Bass, a deepened appreciation for what constitutes God can serve as a bridge to heal this un-connectedness. Instead of a upward, vertical view of God above us, Bass quotes Barbara Brown Taylor, who notes: "There is another way to conceive of our life in God, but it requires a different worldview - not a clockwork universe in which individuals function as discrete springs and gears, but one that looks more like a luminous web, in which the whole is far more than the parts. In this universe, there is no such thing as an individual apart from his or her relationships. Every interaction - between people and people, between people and things, between things and things - changes the face of history."
For human relationships, this can be summed up in the idea of Ubuntu. Bass quotes Archbishop Desmond Tutu: "The first law of our being is that we are set in a delicate network of interdependence with our fellow human beings and with the rest of God's creation."
Bass explains that the African concept of Ubuntu begins with "I am because you are," to express our interconnectedness. "We are not warring tribes," she writes. "We are the same tribe."
For Bass, most Western religions seem to go counter to this principle. "For far too long, religion has combined with nationalism or ethnicity to claim divine legitimacy for human conquests and crusades... Seeing 'our people' as the only ones who count is a little like living in a gated community. You can ignore the world beyond the walls for only so long."
She sums up the consequences of this trend in arriving at one of her major themes of GROUNDED. "When religion fails at compassion, it fails at its own test. To neglect loving your neighbor - to lack compassion - that is the problem underlying all other human problems."
Which brings us right back to one of the main points of her book. "Unity is expressed in love and friendship, not in doctrine and dogma."
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