This morning while I was sitting out in the backyard enjoying my tea on a beautiful, breezy, but sunny, Pacific Northwest morning, I began to think about journeys. Maybe it is because I know of so many friends who are undertaking journeys: There is the friend who just lost her father to cancer; another whose mother is in hospital in a touch-and-go condi...tion; there is the relative whose daughter is expecting her first child any hour now; a friend who has moved clear across the country to pursue law school because she is passionate about justice, especially for those who are under-represented and marginalized; a granddaughter who just began pre-kindergarten; a former colleague and his new bride as they travel across Italy on their honeymoon. All of these people, and really everyone, is on a journey. Some of them are segments of the larger life journey and, although they are not of our choosing, we journey them anyway. Others are intentional, although they may be wonderful and frightening at the same time. And then there came to mind a passage from J R R Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Ring in which the Hobbit Frodo, who is about to undertake a journey, remembers that his uncle Bilbo composed a “walking song” to give him courage and determination when he will be very much tempted to veer off the Road on his journey.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet,
And whither then? I cannot say.
We are all on a journey, every day of our lives. It begins with birth. Sometimes the journey is easy and enjoyable, other times it is mysterious and even frightening. Sometimes it seems like it is just mundane, putting one foot in front of the other, trying to make it to the end of the day. But if we stop and look at our life as a part of an overall picture (“some larger way”), we see that each segment of the journey is part of the quest that is our life. And maybe that is why we like stories like The Lord of the Rings or Star Wars or the countless other tales that are not just a part of Western literature, but also the folk literature of the world. We are all on a journey.
The Bible sees the Christian life as a journey as well. Beginning with the Call of Abraham and ending with the culmination in the Book of Revelation, we are on a journey. And those of us who have come to know God in Christ and are called to follow Jesus interpret our life within the larger, paradigmatic Gospel story of Jesus and discipleship. It is a story of Jesus’ call to follow him as God continues to work in our life and world inviting others to join us on this journey where we experience the abundant life that is offered in Christ.
There are times of rest and renewal on this journey, but we don’t stop for long. Sometimes the path is straight and clear, other times the road winds through uncertain and difficult terrain. But all the while, as we mix our story with God’s larger story, we are aware that God goes with us. We may not always be immediately aware of God’s presence or God’s supporting grace, but it is there because God has promised that it will be. And many who have been on the road longer than we have, can and have testified to God’s sustaining presence.
And so, my friend, my fellow traveler on the journey, let me wish you a safe and rich journey. Travel with your eyes and heart open to what God is doing and wants to do in your life and in your world. As Paula D’Arcy reminds us: “God comes to you disguised as your life.” And as you journey, remember to take some time to be still. It may come as you gaze into the face of a sleeping child, listen to a beautiful piece of music, take a walk on a clear, crisp morning, are held in a warm embrace, or just sit to reflect on some segment of your life’s journey. The Psalmist reminds us to “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). In this stillness, in the midst of our journey, we meet the mystery of God. When we are still, we cast our trust on God, and in that stillness God’s healing power ministers to us and helps us see our journey a bit clearer.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Love is Our Measure
The other morning I was struck again by a passage from one of Thomas Merton’s journals. What hit me was the forthrightness of the language and how shocking it seems in our day. Of course, he isn’t saying anything that isn’t already there in the teachings of Jesus (Luke 12:13-21; Matthew 6:33; Luke 14:25-33), but in our North American, sanitized, domesticated, culturally-influenced understanding of the Gospel, it leaves one shaking the head and repeating over and over again: “It’s not possible. It’s too hard. It can’t be right”
Here is what Merton wrote on September 3, 1941: "The measure of our identity, of our being (the two are the same), is the amount of our love for God. The more we love earthly things, reputation, importance, pleasures, ease, and success, the less we love God. Our identity is dissipated among things that have no value, and we are drowned and die in trying to live in the material things we would like to possess, or in the projects we would like to complete to objectify the work of our own wills. Then, when we come to die, we find we have squandered all our love (that is, our being) on things of nothingness, and that we are nothing, we are death. But then, most of all, in the terrifying light of pure Being and perfect Love, we see the hatefulness of nothingness, of death. But if we have loved Him, and lost ourselves in Him, we find ourselves in Him, and live forever in joy.
But tribulation detaches us from the things of nothingness in which we spend ourselves and die. Therefore, tribulation gives us life, and we love it, not out of love for death, but out of love for life.
Let me then withdraw all my love from scattered, vain things—the desire to be read and praised as a writer, or to be a successful teacher, praised by my students, or to live in ease in some beautiful place—and place it all in Thee, where it will take root and live, instead of being spent in barrenness.
My life is measured by my love of God, and that, in turn, is measured by my love for the least of His children. And that love is not an abstract benevolence: it must mean sharing their tribulation." (Thomas Merton, Run to the Mountain: Volume One, 1939-1941 [entry for September 3, 1941])
Here is what Merton wrote on September 3, 1941: "The measure of our identity, of our being (the two are the same), is the amount of our love for God. The more we love earthly things, reputation, importance, pleasures, ease, and success, the less we love God. Our identity is dissipated among things that have no value, and we are drowned and die in trying to live in the material things we would like to possess, or in the projects we would like to complete to objectify the work of our own wills. Then, when we come to die, we find we have squandered all our love (that is, our being) on things of nothingness, and that we are nothing, we are death. But then, most of all, in the terrifying light of pure Being and perfect Love, we see the hatefulness of nothingness, of death. But if we have loved Him, and lost ourselves in Him, we find ourselves in Him, and live forever in joy.
But tribulation detaches us from the things of nothingness in which we spend ourselves and die. Therefore, tribulation gives us life, and we love it, not out of love for death, but out of love for life.
Let me then withdraw all my love from scattered, vain things—the desire to be read and praised as a writer, or to be a successful teacher, praised by my students, or to live in ease in some beautiful place—and place it all in Thee, where it will take root and live, instead of being spent in barrenness.
My life is measured by my love of God, and that, in turn, is measured by my love for the least of His children. And that love is not an abstract benevolence: it must mean sharing their tribulation." (Thomas Merton, Run to the Mountain: Volume One, 1939-1941 [entry for September 3, 1941])
The passage begins and ends with “love for/of God” and in between are words and images that describe what happens when we forget that primary call – “our identity is dissipated,” “we are drowned and die,” “squandered,” “nothingness,” “tribulation,” “barrenness”. Not the kind of things we like to hear or associate with our lives. Now, it is easy to write off Merton as a fanatical, out-of-touch monk; a kill-joy. But the reality is that Merton was very much involved in life. He loved life and people and to laugh. He wasn’t a somber, cheerless stoic. His pictures, poetry, teaching and writings show that he found pleasure in the world. But his life was also a struggle. He struggled most of his life with maintaining that focus on love for God above everything else. He knew that it was that center which gives focus to life and helps us to see our lives in a greater, more fuller, richer context than simply pursuing the “American dream” or following the siren call of consumerism or unfettered capitalism or passively accepting our society’s often twisted understandings of success.
Merton, like the Christ he loved and followed, wants us to see our lives in the context of our inevitable end – death and its judgment on the totality of our life. And it is here that he found something positive in “tribulation” – difficulties, trials, suffering, pain. Like C.S. Lewis who once wrote: “Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world”, Merton paradoxically reminds us that pain/tribulation reminds us of our humanity, our finitude, our need for priorities in life. In that sense, “tribulation gives us life, and we love it, not out of love for death, but out of love for life.” And the “life” he is referring to here is abundant life, life with an eternal meaning/being.
Now I think that that is an important lesson to learn, but it is hard. It is so counter-cultural. But do we really want anything else? Richard Rohr quotes the poet Rainer Maria Rilke:”When we are victorious over small things, it leaves us feeling small.” In other words, we need a worthy opponent, challenging goals, to realize our identity, our being, our destiny and purpose. Our life is measured by our love for God. And so we push on, trying to understand the will of God for our lives, for the society in which we live, and for the world.
And Merton reminds us, as did Jesus and John and James (Mark 12:28-34; Matthew 25:31-46;1 John 4:7-21; James 2:1-13), that my love for God “is measured by my love for the least of His children. And that love is not an abstract benevolence: it must mean sharing their tribulation.” In other words, one measure of our growth in our relationship with God is the tangible sharing in the humanity of those around us, especially their pain. Here is a challenge to expand our circles of concern and to realize that our relationship with God, our spirituality, is always more than simply me and God together on the journey.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Eyes Wide Open
I am always surprised by the ways God shows up or makes himself known or tries to reveal something to me. I am also just as surprised at how thick I can be at missing the message.
This morning during my devotional time I was reading a passage from one of Thomas Merton’s journals. The piece was written in September 1958 and reflects one of the themes that keeps coming through Merton’s works – the search for contentment. He writes: “When you accept what you have, you see all you have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed. I desire other things because I fear to be content with what I have—I fear it is inglorious. In the last few days I have seen what matters is to be humble enough to admit I am content with just this. Leave the rest to God.”
As I reflected on Merton’s words I began to think about other things that I have been reading recently and over and over again they all seem to have been dealing with the theme of contentment. Of course, this isn’t a new issue for me. But just when I think I have it settled and I am on the right road, I discover that I have lost my way, again.
I guess I should take some comfort from the fact that the Apostle Paul wrote that he had “learned to be content” (Philippians 4:11). And from reading his letters, I get the impression that it wasn’t an easy lesson for Paul. It never is. In the previous chapter (Philippians 3) Paul talks about pressing on, straining forward. It sounds like Paul, like the rest of us, realized that contentment doesn’t simply happen. It does require something of us. But Paul is quick to make clear that his sufficiency/contentment came not from external resources or achievements or any innate ability, but grew out of his deepening relationship with Christ. And that is true for all of us.
Richard Rohr in his recent book, Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, describes us well: “We are more struggling to survive than thrive, more just “getting through” or trying to get to the top than finding what is really at the top or was already at the bottom.” And then he cites Merton: “Thomas Merton, the American monk, pointed out that we may spend our whole life climbing the ladder of success, only to find when we get to the top that our ladder is leaning against the wrong wall.” I often feel that way when it comes to the search for contentment/satisfaction/joy.
And that is why Thomas Merton’s words written almost fifty years ago are like a slap in the face and bring me up short. They remind me that one of the ways, perhaps the chief way, that God teaches me contentment is to learn to start with the givenness/giftedness of life. “When you accept what you have, you see all you have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed….” That is not always easy, especially if we feel that life has dealt us a bad hand or we are anxious and worried over what is ahead. But that is precisely what Merton is trying to get us to see, that learning to rest in the preciousness of the moment and to give thanks for what is, helps us to learn contentment. Of course, Merton isn’t talking about simply accepting injustice or abuse or resting in the status quo, especially if that is a condition that is dehumanizing like poverty. His own life and writings reflect that.
But Merton is reminding us that, in our desire for more or our haste to keep pace with our contemporaries or our general dissatisfaction with what we don’t have in life, we miss out on much of the wonder and awesomeness of life. Learning to be humble and content with the everyday wonders of life and leaving the rest to God is not a flight from engagement in and with the world, but is a way of resting in God as we make our way through the world, living as Kingdom citizens and seeking to understand and do the will of God along the way.
So let me offer these guidelines. The next time you find yourself discontented: 1) Focus: Paul wrote: “For me to live is Christ” (Philippians 1:21; cf. Galatians 2:20). Recognize that in Christ you have all that is essentially needed for your happiness and contentment (Ephesians Ephesians 1:3; 3:14-21; 2 Peter 1:3-15). But your relationship with Christ can’t be an addendum to your life, a side commitment, but needs to be the focus of your life; 2) Cultivate Gratitude: Sometimes that is hard because we are bitter or distracted, but stop and reflect on the things that really are precious to you. If you are having a hard time thinking of them, ask someone you love to help you; 3) Quit Comparing: If your happiness is compared to others or to what others have, it is hard to be content. The reality is that there will always be people who are richer, prettier, more influential, more dynamic, etc. God has created you as a unique human being. God does not evaluate you in comparison to anyone else. Accept who you are and make the most out of the person God desires for you to be; and 4) Live With Your Eyes And Heart Open, that is, Cultivate Awareness. David Stendl-Rast has written: “Even the predictable turns into surprise the moment we stop taking it for granted.” He goes on to say in his book Gratefulness that one of the problems we face is that we leave the house each day with a mental list of what we will be grateful for in the day ahead. He suggests instead, throw away the list and be grateful for the many gifts that have been missing in life. Be awake, be alert to the presence of God in your life and world and open to the daily gifts you are given.
If you can do learn to do that, than, like Merton, you will realize that what you “have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed” and you can “leave the rest to God.”
This morning during my devotional time I was reading a passage from one of Thomas Merton’s journals. The piece was written in September 1958 and reflects one of the themes that keeps coming through Merton’s works – the search for contentment. He writes: “When you accept what you have, you see all you have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed. I desire other things because I fear to be content with what I have—I fear it is inglorious. In the last few days I have seen what matters is to be humble enough to admit I am content with just this. Leave the rest to God.”
As I reflected on Merton’s words I began to think about other things that I have been reading recently and over and over again they all seem to have been dealing with the theme of contentment. Of course, this isn’t a new issue for me. But just when I think I have it settled and I am on the right road, I discover that I have lost my way, again.
I guess I should take some comfort from the fact that the Apostle Paul wrote that he had “learned to be content” (Philippians 4:11). And from reading his letters, I get the impression that it wasn’t an easy lesson for Paul. It never is. In the previous chapter (Philippians 3) Paul talks about pressing on, straining forward. It sounds like Paul, like the rest of us, realized that contentment doesn’t simply happen. It does require something of us. But Paul is quick to make clear that his sufficiency/contentment came not from external resources or achievements or any innate ability, but grew out of his deepening relationship with Christ. And that is true for all of us.
Richard Rohr in his recent book, Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, describes us well: “We are more struggling to survive than thrive, more just “getting through” or trying to get to the top than finding what is really at the top or was already at the bottom.” And then he cites Merton: “Thomas Merton, the American monk, pointed out that we may spend our whole life climbing the ladder of success, only to find when we get to the top that our ladder is leaning against the wrong wall.” I often feel that way when it comes to the search for contentment/satisfaction/joy.
And that is why Thomas Merton’s words written almost fifty years ago are like a slap in the face and bring me up short. They remind me that one of the ways, perhaps the chief way, that God teaches me contentment is to learn to start with the givenness/giftedness of life. “When you accept what you have, you see all you have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed….” That is not always easy, especially if we feel that life has dealt us a bad hand or we are anxious and worried over what is ahead. But that is precisely what Merton is trying to get us to see, that learning to rest in the preciousness of the moment and to give thanks for what is, helps us to learn contentment. Of course, Merton isn’t talking about simply accepting injustice or abuse or resting in the status quo, especially if that is a condition that is dehumanizing like poverty. His own life and writings reflect that.
But Merton is reminding us that, in our desire for more or our haste to keep pace with our contemporaries or our general dissatisfaction with what we don’t have in life, we miss out on much of the wonder and awesomeness of life. Learning to be humble and content with the everyday wonders of life and leaving the rest to God is not a flight from engagement in and with the world, but is a way of resting in God as we make our way through the world, living as Kingdom citizens and seeking to understand and do the will of God along the way.
So let me offer these guidelines. The next time you find yourself discontented: 1) Focus: Paul wrote: “For me to live is Christ” (Philippians 1:21; cf. Galatians 2:20). Recognize that in Christ you have all that is essentially needed for your happiness and contentment (Ephesians Ephesians 1:3; 3:14-21; 2 Peter 1:3-15). But your relationship with Christ can’t be an addendum to your life, a side commitment, but needs to be the focus of your life; 2) Cultivate Gratitude: Sometimes that is hard because we are bitter or distracted, but stop and reflect on the things that really are precious to you. If you are having a hard time thinking of them, ask someone you love to help you; 3) Quit Comparing: If your happiness is compared to others or to what others have, it is hard to be content. The reality is that there will always be people who are richer, prettier, more influential, more dynamic, etc. God has created you as a unique human being. God does not evaluate you in comparison to anyone else. Accept who you are and make the most out of the person God desires for you to be; and 4) Live With Your Eyes And Heart Open, that is, Cultivate Awareness. David Stendl-Rast has written: “Even the predictable turns into surprise the moment we stop taking it for granted.” He goes on to say in his book Gratefulness that one of the problems we face is that we leave the house each day with a mental list of what we will be grateful for in the day ahead. He suggests instead, throw away the list and be grateful for the many gifts that have been missing in life. Be awake, be alert to the presence of God in your life and world and open to the daily gifts you are given.
If you can do learn to do that, than, like Merton, you will realize that what you “have received is more than enough and you are overwhelmed” and you can “leave the rest to God.”
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Contentment
There is a Native American story entitled “The Two Wolves.” In the story, an old Cherokee man tells his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said: “My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all. One wolf is “Evil.” It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, and superiority. The other wolf is “Good.” It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, faith…and contentment.”
The grandson was amazed at this. You could see it in his face. You could also see that he was puzzling over what he had just been told. Finally, he could no longer restrain himself, he asked: “Which wolf wins?”
The old grandfather smiled slightly and softly replied: “The one you feed.”
And that is so true, isn’t it. We are all faced with choices and the response is up to us. We are faced with news from the doctor that says our cholesterol level is too high and we need to make some choices about diet, exercise and medicine. Our job is becoming very demanding of our time and energy. We know that we are burning the candle at both ends and that if something doesn’t change, the present situation can’t go on. What are we going to do? We have to make a decision.
This is true when it comes to the cultivation of character and habits, especially spiritual habits. What are we going to feed? What are we going to nurture?
And this seems to be particularly true when it comes to that most elusive, but sought after, quality – contentment.
Many of us are trying to cultivate contentment/peace/satisfaction/joy by going along with the crowd, buying into one of the many popular books or trends or voices that promise contentment. Usually they are things like: buy me, use me, own me, pursue this, etc. etc. But at the end of the day, we find ourselves either less satisfied or simply too tired from the pursuit. And contentment is nowhere to be to be found.
If Jesus is to be believed that contentment is found in a relationship, a coming to him and learning from him (Matthew 11:28-30; John 10:10), then cultivating, feeding, this relationship with Jesus is what we are to be focused on. And what does Jesus says to us? He reminds us that contentment is not comfort or wealth or popularity, or satisfaction with our own accomplishments, but a learned conviction that grows out of a relationship with him about goodness, faithfulness and the sufficiency of God to meet the deepest needs of our heart. It is a contentment that is not subject to the circumstances in which we find ourselves; it is a contentment that is not focused on creating goals and objectives to obtain what we think will make us happy. As the psychologist and writer on the spiritual life Robert Wicks reminds us: “Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of what you already have” (Streams of Contentment, p. 93). And this something is the giftedness of life and the giftedness of life in Christ.
At the heart of contentment is learning to be grateful and to make reflection on that gratitude a daily part of life. God has extended mercy and grace to all and that grace is enough. If I can remember that and be grateful for it, it will go a long way toward making me know the contentment that God can give. It is learning to feed that gratitude and awareness of God’s gift of life and life in Christ that brings contentment. It is not out in the future or in some imagined or desired circumstances, but here and now where I find myself, that I can also find contentment. It will require a reorientation of my thinking and focusing. And if I am really wanting contentment, it will be worth it and I will find that what I feed wins.
The grandson was amazed at this. You could see it in his face. You could also see that he was puzzling over what he had just been told. Finally, he could no longer restrain himself, he asked: “Which wolf wins?”
The old grandfather smiled slightly and softly replied: “The one you feed.”
And that is so true, isn’t it. We are all faced with choices and the response is up to us. We are faced with news from the doctor that says our cholesterol level is too high and we need to make some choices about diet, exercise and medicine. Our job is becoming very demanding of our time and energy. We know that we are burning the candle at both ends and that if something doesn’t change, the present situation can’t go on. What are we going to do? We have to make a decision.
This is true when it comes to the cultivation of character and habits, especially spiritual habits. What are we going to feed? What are we going to nurture?
And this seems to be particularly true when it comes to that most elusive, but sought after, quality – contentment.
Many of us are trying to cultivate contentment/peace/satisfaction/joy by going along with the crowd, buying into one of the many popular books or trends or voices that promise contentment. Usually they are things like: buy me, use me, own me, pursue this, etc. etc. But at the end of the day, we find ourselves either less satisfied or simply too tired from the pursuit. And contentment is nowhere to be to be found.
If Jesus is to be believed that contentment is found in a relationship, a coming to him and learning from him (Matthew 11:28-30; John 10:10), then cultivating, feeding, this relationship with Jesus is what we are to be focused on. And what does Jesus says to us? He reminds us that contentment is not comfort or wealth or popularity, or satisfaction with our own accomplishments, but a learned conviction that grows out of a relationship with him about goodness, faithfulness and the sufficiency of God to meet the deepest needs of our heart. It is a contentment that is not subject to the circumstances in which we find ourselves; it is a contentment that is not focused on creating goals and objectives to obtain what we think will make us happy. As the psychologist and writer on the spiritual life Robert Wicks reminds us: “Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of what you already have” (Streams of Contentment, p. 93). And this something is the giftedness of life and the giftedness of life in Christ.
At the heart of contentment is learning to be grateful and to make reflection on that gratitude a daily part of life. God has extended mercy and grace to all and that grace is enough. If I can remember that and be grateful for it, it will go a long way toward making me know the contentment that God can give. It is learning to feed that gratitude and awareness of God’s gift of life and life in Christ that brings contentment. It is not out in the future or in some imagined or desired circumstances, but here and now where I find myself, that I can also find contentment. It will require a reorientation of my thinking and focusing. And if I am really wanting contentment, it will be worth it and I will find that what I feed wins.
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