Memo by Sierra-Marie Gerfao, DRE

When I was fifteen years old, a friend who was a year or two my senior took me to our local synagogue for Dances of Universal Peace. The Dances of Universal Peace group borrowed the synagogue one evening each month. I had no idea what to expect from their gathering.

I walked into a room where people were greeting one another excitedly and entering into a circle formation. Song leaders taught the songs and showed us the dances, but the instruction was consistently brief. I learned the dances by doing them, and learned the songs by singing them. The songs were simple, often chants and sung mantras. We sang them over and over, at varying tempos and volumes, dancing in circle, and something magical and transformative would happen as the words were internalized and embodied in our movements.

The Dances of Universal Peace tradition comes out of the 1960s counter-culture, but unlike many of the movements from that time, it continued to grow through the 1990s. Having been raised in a Unitarian Universalist church, the dances invoked the familiar "circle worship" of my time in youth group. In fact, even some of the songs were familiar.

I soon grew to feel comfortable with the dances, and made it my practice to attend regularly. My friend and I eventually gathered a fairly large group of other youth, and we all went to the dances together. Some of the most spiritually moving experiences I've had occurred during the dances.

A year or so later, a group member became inappropriate with one of my friends, and we all immediately stopped going to the dances. Still, by that point my friends and I had begun to take hiking trips together in the Colorado mountains, and we always made sure to carry handheld drums and other small instruments in our backpacks. We knew the songs, and there was nothing better than getting to the top of a climb and pulling out our instruments to make a joyful noise after having discovered through our hike that we and our problems were very tiny afterall, and that rivers ran down mountains no matter what was going on in our heads and with our emotions.

Every now and then, I hear people argue that teenagers or young adults are void of spirituality. They are, it is said, focused on dating and school, on extracurricular activities and driving, and all kinds of other youthful distractions. On the contrary, I have found the teenage hormonal surge, the emotional rollercoaster of adolescence, to create the ripest conditions and the deepest cravings for the grounding that comes from spiritual practices, reflection, and experiences. There is a reason that rites of passages for teenagers around the world often involve a spiritual quest.

My wife, whose spiritual temperament and religious background is near opposite of mine, says that even she found her way to the local Catholic Church a couple of times when in her first year of college she felt lost and overwhelmed. She slipped out the back door as quickly and quietly as she came, but being in a sanctuary of worship surrounded by candles gave her a brief sense of peace while she made her way through a confusing and new adult world.

I hear the spiritual hunger in track runners, who talk about the physical endurance and the silent concentration of a good run. I hear the spiritual hunger in the choir singers, who say there is a unique sense of elation in a spontaneous harmony. I even hear the spiritual hunger of the nicotine-addicted teenager, when I take the time to sit outside with him on the bench where he smokes, breathing slowly in and out with him as he reflects on the day he has had.

We've entered the season of Lent, when many, as it has been said, "give up something to make room for something else." There is a physical immediacy in self-deprivation that is attractive and meaningful to many teenagers. The practice of a fast, or giving up of something to make room for something else, is not unique to the Christian tradition and has implications for people of all ages no matter what the particular theology behind it. How are you sharing in Lent with the young people in your life?

In Faith,

Sierra-Marie
P.S. In this time of giving things up to make room for something else, our Family Ministry Month presents a number of opportunities to fill ourselves up with something meaningful. Bring your kids and youth and try out some spiritual practices this Sunday at our Spiritual Practices Symposium after the soup and bread luncheon! Or listen by phone or online to a panel discussion this Tuesday titled "From a Disability Paradigm to An Inclusive Society: Creating a World of Welcome For All God's Children." See a full listing of events at familyministrymonth2011.blogspot.com.