As the new co-directors of New College Berkeley (NCB), we’re in awe of the rich legacy of this Christian study center, much of which is owed to Susan Phillips who has completed nearly three decades of continuous service. Through her wisdom and leadership, Susan has shepherded NCB, and generations of students, to “walk in newness” as disciples of Jesus throughout these many years. We are deeply grateful for this faithful servant. As Susan steps down from NCB directorship, we are delighted and pleased to announce that she will continue as a core doctoral faculty member, leading our spiritual formation programs.
"A New Thing Springs Forth"
Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? –Isaiah 43:19
Dear friends,
A new day is dawning for New College Berkeley! After twenty-eight years of leading this ministry, on January 1st I’m passing the reins, with confidence and enthusiasm, into new hands. In 1994 the Board of Trustees participated in a new day for New College by appointing me as Executive Director and Sharon Gallagher as Associate Director. We were the first women to serve in the (previously titled) President and Dean positions. In those years, it was rare for women to lead Christian ministries like New College, and it was and has been a tremendous privilege.
The Fruit of the E. D. Search
And now, after a year-long, international search, the Board of Trustees, on the unanimous recommendation of the Executive Director Search Committee, has—also unanimously—voted to engage Dr. Tim Tseng and Craig Wong as Executive Co-Directors of this precious ministry which is about to celebrate its 45th year. This is cause for great rejoicing in the opportunities that lie ahead!
Advent / Adventure
Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel. (Isaiah 7:14)
We read about the dislocated people in the Nativity story. Mary was startled by the angel’s announcement of the Messiah’s coming into the world through her. Joseph was told a similar story in a dream, and both of them set off into strange, dangerous, history-making circumstances. The Wise Men followed a star across deserts and mountains to the Messiah’s manger-crib. Sheepherders in the fields—minding their own business!—received the news from a heavenly host. All these people were given signs; and all of them were given companions as they wondered and wandered.
This seems to be how God works: strangely, for sure, yet always compassionately aware of our need for human accompaniment, especially when experiencing divine revelation.
Thanksgiving 2021
Although [Wisdom] is but one, she can do all things, and while remaining in herself, she renews all things; in every generation she passes into holy souls and makes them friends of God….—Wisdom 7:27
“I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” —John 15:15
Dear Friends,
Jesus called us “friends.” The message of the Book of Wisdom is that even before Jesus walked the earth, divine Logos/Wisdom worked in people’s souls to make them “friends of God.” As friends of God we become siblings in Christ, a community connected by the Holy Spirit.
I write to you now with immense thanksgiving. Knowing you in this New College Berkeley community of Christian faith and study has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. My husband Steve and I moved to Berkeley just as David Gill, Earl Palmer, and others were bringing the hope for a new college in Berkeley to fruition. We happily joined that community of people seeking to follow Jesus in thought, word, and deed.
Accompanying Young Leaders through the Pandemic
Throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, New College Berkeley spiritual directors have met with people in small, prayerful groups by Zoom. We’ve witnessed the stresses and the opportunities of this strange, isolated time; a time of great loss for many people, yet also a time of discovering novel ways of gathering together and orienting ourselves toward God.
A Return to Church
After being closed since the start of the pandemic, my church opened for in-person worship in July. What a blessing this has been. For those who can attend in-person, we again experience the live, physical presence of fellowship and community with our neighbors. As one, we pray, confess and receive Communion, and together we dance and sing songs of praise to our Creator God. There is an immediacy with the preached Word and testimonies heard in real time.
Exquisite Darkness
People keep telling me this is a “murky season” spiritually. We grope for clarity, for hope, for the Light shining in the darkness. During this long pandemic season, so fraught with social unrest and losses of all kinds, I’ve been amazed that contemplative time with other people—over the phone and by Zoom—have been rich despite physical absence. You may have discovered this, too. Now that we’re venturing out from quarantine, we do so with caution and also with hope of holding onto the gifts of the pandemic.
Intertwined Roots
In the Fall of 2019 just before the pandemic, Pastor Gary VanderPol, of Church Without Walls, Berkeley, where I serve as a spiritual director, introduced the image of the redwood tree in a sermon series titled, “From Survival to Revival.” Redwood trees, the tallest, oldest and most majestic of trees, have very shallow roots. The redwood tree maintains its stability by intertwining its roots with other redwood trees. Although the redwood tree looks tall and separate above ground, it stands strongest when connected to other redwood trees via this underground network of roots. Likewise, Christians, though they may be strong in their individual faiths, are most stable when closely connected to other Christians.
Come and Listen for the Still, Small Voice
Even as a good Protestant girl, I knew a little of St. Ignatius and had participated in some contemplative practices (Lectio Divina, centering payer, and the practice of silence), though not with great regularity. But the practice of the Ignatian Exercises was unknown to me. When the option came up in the midst of the COVID lock-down, my husband was quick to jump on joining in. So, we did.
Green Lives
I have lived in the northwest corner of Arkansas for fifteen years now, and I am still waiting to find out what a “typical winter” is. We’ve had a record-breaking ice storm, dumps of snow, and days warm enough to putter around the garden without a sweater. One thing we can rely on are the shorter days and long, cozy evenings. For a bedtime story this January, I plucked The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett from my big kids’ bookshelf of classic paperbacks to read to my littlest. Her name is Whimsy and she is six years old. As her name indicates, she is a pleasant surprise, a decade younger than her three older siblings. In this strange pandemic year, instead of attending Kindergarten, she has been at home, lonely, and isolated from the friends she made in preschool.
Jesus Moved into the Neighborhood: Do We Have Eyes to Recognize Him?
Written by Dr. Ruth Padilla DeBorst, June 19, 2018 [1]
Ruth Padilla DeBorst, PhD, is the speaker for the 3rd Annual Berkeley Palmer Lecture. Dr. DeBorst is a well-known Latin American theologian who has been involved in leadership development and theological education for several decades. She passionately pursues ecological justice, authentic community, and participative, contextual forms of theological education. Dr. Padilla DeBorst is currently a visiting faculty at Regent College in Vancouver, B.C., Canada.
Trade is going strong. And it is horrendously shameful and painful. Because what is being exchanged across the US border is not really a what but a who. Many, many “whos.”
Assault on the Jericho Road: Attempting to Read Luke 10:25-37
I’ve been having quite a time with The Good Samaritan. By “quite a time,” I mean I’ve been working for years on understanding how it works – linguistically, cognitively, and as a narrative. I want to understand it in its original context, and I want to think carefully about its implications for early Christian ethics and for contemporary social ethics. But a colleague recently opined that if she were to choose one New Testament parable which utterly fails to communicate its point to modern readers, it would be this one.
How could she say that? Well, I’ll tell you. And then I want to tell you why I both agree and disagree with that assessment. But first, please pause and read the passage in Luke.
Why Write "Spiritual Autobiography" ––and Why Now?
This February, less than three weeks after what is possibly the most fraught and fought-over inauguration in our national history, I’ll be teaching a short course on “Approaches to Spiritual Autobiography.” In light of recent disturbances in public life and in the midst of calls to active, organized response, such self-reflection might seem to some a bit untimely—perhaps a bit too inwardly focused when so many feel we’re at a political turning point or tipping point.
The Holy Way
January—the new year. The time of Epiphany—discovery and illumination. So we hope. We hope, too, for mass immunizations against the novel coronavirus and for a peaceful transfer of power in the United States. Every day I feel the intense longing for good news.
We’ve yearned toward the Holy One throughout the season of Advent, and in this new year the adventure continues. In our COVID-19 moment I’m reflecting on the fact that the word “adventure” underwent some evolution in its meaning many centuries ago. In 1200 it referred to that which happens by chance, with the possibility of wonder, miracle, and marvelous happenings. Then disaster struck and the word’s sense changed to denote risk and danger. In 1347 the Black Death struck Europe, and over the course of four years more than 20 million lives were lost on the continent, about one-third of the population. Everyone suffered. It’s no surprise that the understandings of common words would shift in grim ways. Over the course of the last year, I’ve developed an aversion reaction to the word “unprecedented.”
My Soul Magnifies the Lord
Advent, like Lent, is a speed bump in the galloping year, slowing us down, and waking us to deep realities. And how we need Advent in the blur of the pandemic and the rush of Yuletide. Advent and Lent are also confessional seasons and, in effect, extended Sabbaths. They exist in Kairos time, the time of reflection, of prayer, of communion.
It’s, as it were, folded time. We remember other Advents in our lives as though through a wormhole in time, and they seem near as we enter into the familiar patterns of Advent worship, even in this strange, isolated year. Perhaps especially in this particular year, we also anticipate future Advent seasons. Times of gathering together again in worship, retreat, caroling, and feasting.