We live in a complex world and there are many, many things that compete for our affections. Sometimes the temptation is frontal, heads on; sometimes it is much more subtle. But either way, our hearts easily become divided or filled with things and affections other than God. It is not that we don’t want to follow Christ and be a Christian, it’s just that we want to do other things as well, and God falls to second place or below. It’s a consumer world and God is just one more commodity, and he often isn’t very high on our “I want” list. Marketplace thinking permeates every aspect of our lives, having the power even to shape our commitments – our marriages, our family time, how we use our money, time and resources. It shapes our perception of what is valuable and important.
We live in a world that is preoccupied with SELF. It’s all about ME: my goals, my wants, my needs, my preferences. Some of us may have been socialized not to say it out loud, but it is there nonetheless. For almost all of us, it is all about taking care of number one and those who matter to me. This means security and happiness and satisfaction and joy. Or so we think and act.
But the truth is that being busy producing, pursuing, and consuming can be a substitute for facing the deeper questions and realities of life. The testimony of Jesus and the Scriptures and countless millions of others is that, in truth, God is the only reality that ultimately matters. The real antidote for the busyness of our lives and the answer to our deepest questions has to be sought outside the consumerist world. God is the only one that can really satisfy life’s deepest hunger and desire for meaning and contentment. All the other idols of life will ultimately fail. And they fail because all of today’s false gods—pleasure, success, entertainment, popularity, wealth, etc.—bring momentary happiness but impoverish and fragment the soul.
Early in his ministry Jesus described this focus on God when he said: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8). For Jesus, the “heart” was not simply a pulsating organ inside your chest, but the truest self. The heart is that part of you that desires, feels, grieves, hungers, delights. The heart is that place where you exercise your freedom, where you decide. The heart is the place where you meet God or avoid meeting God. Purity of heart means that our primary focus and allegiance is to be given to God and God alone. The pure of heart do not let themselves be torn apart in a thousand different directions; they are singular, they are focused on one thing. As Brother Lawrence wrote so long ago: The heart must be empty of all other things, because God will possess the heart alone; and as he cannot possess it alone without emptying it of all besides, so neither can He act there, and do in it what he pleases, unless it be left vacant to Him.
Recognizing that it isn’t all about me, that life is about what place God has in my life and how my life is lived in relationship to God brings liberation and clarity. It breaks the bondage of consumerist thinking and opens us up to the wonder and the awesomeness of life. Purity of heart is not doing good things or avoiding sin, it is about cultivating a relationship with God that touches every area of life.
There is a story, probably just a legend, but a powerful one, that when Thomas Aquinas, one of the most profound theologians the church has ever had, was on his deathbed, a voice was heard from somewhere above: Thomas, you have written well of me. What reward would you ask for yourself?” And Aquinas replied, “Nothing but yourself, O Lord.” The pure in heart love God and want nothing more than to grow in that loving relationship. And as they do, it is reflected in the way they treat others and the world.
Reflect: Does God seem distant and irrelevant in your life? Have you ever prayed for God to show himself to you, to let you know that he is in fact at work in your life? When God seems absent or shrouded in mystery and we can’t seem to feel or know God’s presence, we have to stop and consider whether it is because God is absent or because our hearts are not pure. This doesn’t mean that we have to be sinless to have the blessing of God’s nearness and friendship. That is not what the Gospel says. But if we want to know God, we need to ask God to search our hearts. He knows what’s there – do we? Are we willing to have him show us what stands between us and him, whatever it may be? To those who pursue God wholeheartedly, God promises the greatest of all blessings: Himself.
“Lord, you have examined us and you know us. You know everything we do; from far away you understand all our thoughts. You see us, whether we are working or resting; you know all our actions. Even before we speak, you already know what we will say. Examine us, O God, and know our mind; test us, and discover our thoughts. Find out if there is any evil in us and guide us in the everlasting way. Create in us a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within us.” [Psalm 139:1-4, 23-24; psalm 51:9-10 (Adapted)]
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Choices
“Holiness” is not a word that many of us use very often. It has a sanctimonious sound to it and makes us uncomfortable. But the word, for the follower of Jesus, basically means becoming like Christ. And it begins in recognizing that it is achieved over time, through training, a long process of little decisions and adjustments of thought. C.S. Lewis onc...e wrote these words in Mere Christianity:
People often think of Christian morality as a kind of bargain in which God says, “If you keep a lot of rules I’ll reward you, and if you don’t I’ll do the other thing.” I don’t think that is the best way of looking at it. I would rather say that every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all of your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing either into a heavenly creature or a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow-creatures, and with itself. To be the one kind of creature is heaven: that is, it is joy and peace and knowledge and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.
“Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.” This is an awesome and somewhat uncomfortable picture of what it means to be human. It means that I am responsible before God for what I do with my life and for what I am becoming. Granted, some people find themselves in extremely difficult circumstances created by the decisions of others. But even there, I am able to choose – free to choose to play the victim or the fighter. The problem is that most of the time we don’t recognize the power of our choices and the way they may be taking us. Other times, we know how serious decision-making is, but we refuse to make a choice (of course, this in itself is a choice). Karl Barth once wrote: “Better something doubtful or overbold, and therefore in need of forgiveness, than nothing at all.”
For the believer, to become a heavenly chooser, to grow in holiness, to become more and more like Christ is something that must be learned and practiced. Worship is one of those places where we learn what it means to please God, to have the mind of Christ, to find our deepest satisfaction and meaning. Other resources are prayer, bible study, community, discussions with friends, etc. But this training in holiness is a process, a process that requires our choice and commitment. Notice that it doesn’t mean that we will be perfect or that we will never fail in this journey. Thank God for forgiveness (1 John 1:9). I think that fundamentally what God desires from us is the turning of our will in his direction. This desire to please God does please him. And if we will accept it, God places at our disposal all that we need to continue on the journey. Second Peter 1:3-4 says: “His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.” Holiness, a life pleasing to God and us, is not impossible. God has made available all the resources that are necessary. But the choice is up to us.
Reflect: What kind of choices am I making and what kind of person am I becoming? Do I make a conscious effort to understand what a choice that honours God really looks like? When I look at my life, do I find that in my heart of hearts I really desire to please God in all areas of my life? If I am a follower of Christ and God has made available all the resources I really need to live a godly life, am I making use of those resources? If not, why not? If so, what progress have I seen in my life?
People often think of Christian morality as a kind of bargain in which God says, “If you keep a lot of rules I’ll reward you, and if you don’t I’ll do the other thing.” I don’t think that is the best way of looking at it. I would rather say that every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all of your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing either into a heavenly creature or a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow-creatures, and with itself. To be the one kind of creature is heaven: that is, it is joy and peace and knowledge and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.
“Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.” This is an awesome and somewhat uncomfortable picture of what it means to be human. It means that I am responsible before God for what I do with my life and for what I am becoming. Granted, some people find themselves in extremely difficult circumstances created by the decisions of others. But even there, I am able to choose – free to choose to play the victim or the fighter. The problem is that most of the time we don’t recognize the power of our choices and the way they may be taking us. Other times, we know how serious decision-making is, but we refuse to make a choice (of course, this in itself is a choice). Karl Barth once wrote: “Better something doubtful or overbold, and therefore in need of forgiveness, than nothing at all.”
For the believer, to become a heavenly chooser, to grow in holiness, to become more and more like Christ is something that must be learned and practiced. Worship is one of those places where we learn what it means to please God, to have the mind of Christ, to find our deepest satisfaction and meaning. Other resources are prayer, bible study, community, discussions with friends, etc. But this training in holiness is a process, a process that requires our choice and commitment. Notice that it doesn’t mean that we will be perfect or that we will never fail in this journey. Thank God for forgiveness (1 John 1:9). I think that fundamentally what God desires from us is the turning of our will in his direction. This desire to please God does please him. And if we will accept it, God places at our disposal all that we need to continue on the journey. Second Peter 1:3-4 says: “His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.” Holiness, a life pleasing to God and us, is not impossible. God has made available all the resources that are necessary. But the choice is up to us.
Reflect: What kind of choices am I making and what kind of person am I becoming? Do I make a conscious effort to understand what a choice that honours God really looks like? When I look at my life, do I find that in my heart of hearts I really desire to please God in all areas of my life? If I am a follower of Christ and God has made available all the resources I really need to live a godly life, am I making use of those resources? If not, why not? If so, what progress have I seen in my life?
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
"All This for Me"
A few months back Connie and I and our daughter’s family went to see a circus that had come to town. It was the first live circus that two of our granddaughters had ever seen. Their reaction, especially that of the four year old, reminded me of this story.
A few years ago, a father took his three-year-old daughter, Amy, to her first circus. Before the event her father tried his best to describe the exciting atmosphere of the big top. She asked lots of questions along the way. Would she get to pet the elephant? Could she swing on the trapeze? Would the clowns come and talk to her? The night before, she could hardly sleep. She woke her parents with: "Daddy, Daddy, come on. We can't be late."
As they drove to the circus grounds, Amy's eyes sparkled. When they finally arrived, he had to hold her hand tightly to keep her from running ahead of him. He bought her peanuts and Cracker Jacks before taking their seats in the stands. Amy giggled as her father put the ring in the Cracker Jack box on her finger, pointing out the three rings in the center of the tent.
"When's it going to start, Daddy? When's it going to start?" she asked again and again.
Finally it began.
Amy clapped her hands to the music and squealed with delight as she watched the parade of animals and performers. Her eyes darted back and forth, not knowing which of the three rings to watch.
Suddenly, Amy became very still and quiet.
"What is it, Amy?" my friend asked.
"Daddy," she said, her voice filled with awe, "They did all this just for me."
This is how I often feel when I think about grace and life – “All this for me!” And, like the little girl in the story, I am filled with awe.
It is easy to get jaded or cynical about life. And when that happens, the awe and wonder of life quickly fade.
And we can think of many reasons to get cynical or angry or tired or frustrated or jaded with life. We don’t care for our job, our relationships are less than satisfying, finances are tight, the world seems to be going in directions that stress, worry and frighten us. There seem to be plenty of reasons to lose that awe that once gripped us. And before we know it we have slipped into a weary, hopeless routine. We have lost wonder. We have forgotten grace.
I’m not sure, if, as adults, we will ever see the world the same way a small child sees the circus. We have seen too much, experienced too much, and maybe thought too much. But if we stop and look deep inside we discover that we really want to recover an appreciation for the awesomeness of life.
Occasionally it slips up on us – the kindness of a stranger for no apparent reason, the sacrifice of a parent or friend, a sunset, the wonder of birth, the tender, unconditional love of a lover, etc. And when that happens, we feel something, a sense of awe and wonder at the gift of life. And maybe like the little girl we are moved to silence and realize that the giftedness of life and love are grace and grace is the awareness that “all this is for me.” It is the realization that God is the great gift-giver and that in the midst of all the things happening in my life and around me, there is the awesomeness of Grace.
That is not something that comes easily, but there are hints and intimations of it all through life if we have eyes to see. Maybe that is why Jesus encouraged us so many times to “behold” things. Behold the lilies of the field…behold the birds of the air…behold the bread rising…behold the wine fermenting. Maybe Jesus wants us to learn how to see again with eyes that have been graced.
And when we do, we are reminded that we are loved in our lostness, that we are cared for in our loneliness, that there is hope in our confusion. It reminds us that in the midst of all the smoke and mirrors, false illusions of this world, that the reality of God’s love and grace is a gift that God wants to give each and every one of us in Christ.
Reflect: Have I been amazed or dazzled by God lately? What can get in the way of wonder? What can you do about them? Abraham Heschel once prayed:” I did not ask for success; I asked for wonder. And you gave it to me.” Have you asked God to give you a sense of wonder, awe for the graciousness, the gift of life? Think of someone you know who has a sense of wonder. In what ways does this person give evidence of a sense of wonder?
A few years ago, a father took his three-year-old daughter, Amy, to her first circus. Before the event her father tried his best to describe the exciting atmosphere of the big top. She asked lots of questions along the way. Would she get to pet the elephant? Could she swing on the trapeze? Would the clowns come and talk to her? The night before, she could hardly sleep. She woke her parents with: "Daddy, Daddy, come on. We can't be late."
As they drove to the circus grounds, Amy's eyes sparkled. When they finally arrived, he had to hold her hand tightly to keep her from running ahead of him. He bought her peanuts and Cracker Jacks before taking their seats in the stands. Amy giggled as her father put the ring in the Cracker Jack box on her finger, pointing out the three rings in the center of the tent.
"When's it going to start, Daddy? When's it going to start?" she asked again and again.
Finally it began.
Amy clapped her hands to the music and squealed with delight as she watched the parade of animals and performers. Her eyes darted back and forth, not knowing which of the three rings to watch.
Suddenly, Amy became very still and quiet.
"What is it, Amy?" my friend asked.
"Daddy," she said, her voice filled with awe, "They did all this just for me."
This is how I often feel when I think about grace and life – “All this for me!” And, like the little girl in the story, I am filled with awe.
It is easy to get jaded or cynical about life. And when that happens, the awe and wonder of life quickly fade.
And we can think of many reasons to get cynical or angry or tired or frustrated or jaded with life. We don’t care for our job, our relationships are less than satisfying, finances are tight, the world seems to be going in directions that stress, worry and frighten us. There seem to be plenty of reasons to lose that awe that once gripped us. And before we know it we have slipped into a weary, hopeless routine. We have lost wonder. We have forgotten grace.
I’m not sure, if, as adults, we will ever see the world the same way a small child sees the circus. We have seen too much, experienced too much, and maybe thought too much. But if we stop and look deep inside we discover that we really want to recover an appreciation for the awesomeness of life.
Occasionally it slips up on us – the kindness of a stranger for no apparent reason, the sacrifice of a parent or friend, a sunset, the wonder of birth, the tender, unconditional love of a lover, etc. And when that happens, we feel something, a sense of awe and wonder at the gift of life. And maybe like the little girl we are moved to silence and realize that the giftedness of life and love are grace and grace is the awareness that “all this is for me.” It is the realization that God is the great gift-giver and that in the midst of all the things happening in my life and around me, there is the awesomeness of Grace.
That is not something that comes easily, but there are hints and intimations of it all through life if we have eyes to see. Maybe that is why Jesus encouraged us so many times to “behold” things. Behold the lilies of the field…behold the birds of the air…behold the bread rising…behold the wine fermenting. Maybe Jesus wants us to learn how to see again with eyes that have been graced.
And when we do, we are reminded that we are loved in our lostness, that we are cared for in our loneliness, that there is hope in our confusion. It reminds us that in the midst of all the smoke and mirrors, false illusions of this world, that the reality of God’s love and grace is a gift that God wants to give each and every one of us in Christ.
Reflect: Have I been amazed or dazzled by God lately? What can get in the way of wonder? What can you do about them? Abraham Heschel once prayed:” I did not ask for success; I asked for wonder. And you gave it to me.” Have you asked God to give you a sense of wonder, awe for the graciousness, the gift of life? Think of someone you know who has a sense of wonder. In what ways does this person give evidence of a sense of wonder?
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
"The Gladdest Thing of All"
In his book A Forgiving God in an Unforgiving World, Ron Lee Davis , tells the following story:
Walking by a pet shop on his way to school, a young boy stopped and stared through the window. Inside were four black puppies playing together. After school he ran home and pleaded with his mother to let him have one of the puppies. "I'll take care of it, Mom, I will. If you can just give me an advance on my allowance, I'll have enough money to buy one with my own money. Please, Mom, please."
The mother, knowing full well the complications having a new puppy would bring to a busy household, could not resist her son. "Okay, you can get the puppy, but I will expect you to take care of it."
" Yes, Mom, I will." Filled with excitement, the little boy ran to the pet shop to buy his new puppy.
After determining that the boy had enough money, the pet shop owner brought him to the window to choose his puppy. After a few minutes, the young boy said, "Um. . . I'll take the little one in the corner."
"Oh no," said the shop owner, "not that one; he's crippled. Notice how he just sits there; something is wrong with one of his legs, so he can't run and play like the rest of the puppies. Choose another one."
Without saying a word, the boy reached down, lifted his pant leg to expose a chrome leg brace to the owner.
"No," he said firmly, "I think I'll take the puppy in the corner.
It turned out that what disqualified the puppy from being chosen by others is what most qualified him to be chosen by the little boy. The boy saw something in the puppy that others wrote off.
God’s grace is like that. In First Corinthians 1 the Apostle Paul has this to say about the makeup of the church – “Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don't see many of "the brightest and the best" among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn't it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these "nobodies" to expose the hollow pretensions of the "somebodies"? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 1:26-29 in Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase, The Message).
Now, of course, we know that there were some well-educated, well-heeled, socially recognized individuals in the early church (e.g. Theophilus, Philemon, Apollos, etc). And while Paul is probably emphasizing the extraordinary action of God in choosing what many people in society think are “nobodies” and that “the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses” because he hopes to temper the arrogance and boasting of some members of the Corinthian church, Paul is also bringing out something that we see in the ministry of Jesus and throughout the New Testament and early church – God, in his mercy and love, often chooses what most people have disqualified, overlooked, undervalued and discounted. And the New Testament calls this “Grace”.
Most people familiar with the Christian gospel know about grace, “amazing grace”. We sing about it, preach about it, read about it, talk about it, and even say that we have experienced it. But it always amazes me how few of us really believe in the unqualified grace of God. Down deep inside, we still somehow feel that, “Yes, God loves us, as long as I’m good and whole and have it relatively together.” The reality is that we will never ever be that way and God’s grace doesn’t wait until we are to find us. If the gospel is to be believed, it turns out that what would seem, to us, to disqualify you and me from knowing the love of God – the mess of our lives and our “crippledness” and brokenness—is what most qualifies us to experience the grace of God. In the midst of his own weakness and brokenness, the Apostle Paul heard God’s hope-infusing words: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect (i.e. fulfilled, accomplished) in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). And maybe that is why Paul had empathy towards others. Like the little boy in the story above, he knew what it was like to be “less than perfect.” And so Paul saw us all in the same boat – all needing God’s grace and all called to live by God’s grace.
The question for each of us is:Can you accept and live in that Grace? “Faith,” writes Brennan Manning, “is the courage to accept acceptance.” An as author, Frederick Buechner reminds us, to believe the Gospel, to accept the life that Jesus offers, to respond to the grace of God is to “turn around and believe that the good news that we are loved is better than we ever dared hope, and that to believe in the good news, to live out of it and toward it, to be in love with that good news, is of all glad things in this world the gladdest thing of all.”
Walking by a pet shop on his way to school, a young boy stopped and stared through the window. Inside were four black puppies playing together. After school he ran home and pleaded with his mother to let him have one of the puppies. "I'll take care of it, Mom, I will. If you can just give me an advance on my allowance, I'll have enough money to buy one with my own money. Please, Mom, please."
The mother, knowing full well the complications having a new puppy would bring to a busy household, could not resist her son. "Okay, you can get the puppy, but I will expect you to take care of it."
" Yes, Mom, I will." Filled with excitement, the little boy ran to the pet shop to buy his new puppy.
After determining that the boy had enough money, the pet shop owner brought him to the window to choose his puppy. After a few minutes, the young boy said, "Um. . . I'll take the little one in the corner."
"Oh no," said the shop owner, "not that one; he's crippled. Notice how he just sits there; something is wrong with one of his legs, so he can't run and play like the rest of the puppies. Choose another one."
Without saying a word, the boy reached down, lifted his pant leg to expose a chrome leg brace to the owner.
"No," he said firmly, "I think I'll take the puppy in the corner.
It turned out that what disqualified the puppy from being chosen by others is what most qualified him to be chosen by the little boy. The boy saw something in the puppy that others wrote off.
God’s grace is like that. In First Corinthians 1 the Apostle Paul has this to say about the makeup of the church – “Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don't see many of "the brightest and the best" among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn't it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these "nobodies" to expose the hollow pretensions of the "somebodies"? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 1:26-29 in Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase, The Message).
Now, of course, we know that there were some well-educated, well-heeled, socially recognized individuals in the early church (e.g. Theophilus, Philemon, Apollos, etc). And while Paul is probably emphasizing the extraordinary action of God in choosing what many people in society think are “nobodies” and that “the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses” because he hopes to temper the arrogance and boasting of some members of the Corinthian church, Paul is also bringing out something that we see in the ministry of Jesus and throughout the New Testament and early church – God, in his mercy and love, often chooses what most people have disqualified, overlooked, undervalued and discounted. And the New Testament calls this “Grace”.
Most people familiar with the Christian gospel know about grace, “amazing grace”. We sing about it, preach about it, read about it, talk about it, and even say that we have experienced it. But it always amazes me how few of us really believe in the unqualified grace of God. Down deep inside, we still somehow feel that, “Yes, God loves us, as long as I’m good and whole and have it relatively together.” The reality is that we will never ever be that way and God’s grace doesn’t wait until we are to find us. If the gospel is to be believed, it turns out that what would seem, to us, to disqualify you and me from knowing the love of God – the mess of our lives and our “crippledness” and brokenness—is what most qualifies us to experience the grace of God. In the midst of his own weakness and brokenness, the Apostle Paul heard God’s hope-infusing words: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect (i.e. fulfilled, accomplished) in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). And maybe that is why Paul had empathy towards others. Like the little boy in the story above, he knew what it was like to be “less than perfect.” And so Paul saw us all in the same boat – all needing God’s grace and all called to live by God’s grace.
The question for each of us is:Can you accept and live in that Grace? “Faith,” writes Brennan Manning, “is the courage to accept acceptance.” An as author, Frederick Buechner reminds us, to believe the Gospel, to accept the life that Jesus offers, to respond to the grace of God is to “turn around and believe that the good news that we are loved is better than we ever dared hope, and that to believe in the good news, to live out of it and toward it, to be in love with that good news, is of all glad things in this world the gladdest thing of all.”
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
St. Francis -- A Holy Fool
October 4 is known on the liturgical calendar of many Christian churches as “The Feast of St. Francis”. Most people know the name of St. Francis, a thirteen century follower of Jesus, and are probably familiar with the peace prayer attributed to him that goes: Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
They may also know that that there are many, many stories and legends about Francis that relate his love for nature and his speaking, even preaching, to the animals (a sort of ecclesiastical Dr. Doolittle). And these quirks might lead some people to see Francis as a somewhat strange character. Well, they wouldn’t be too far off. Francis was strange in his day and he is even stranger in ours.
Francis is what I would call a “Holy Fool.” Back in the fourth century, a church leader by the name of John Chrysostom said: “Only a fool would attempt to change the world with a simple message of love and peace. So we can conclude that Jesus was a fool. Only fools would agree to follow such a man…So we can conclude that all of us are fools…So let all happily admit that we are fools. Then we will happily commit ourselves to change the world.”
Before Chrysostom, the Apostle Paul had referred to himself as “a fool for the sake of Christ” (1 Corinthians 4:10).The Gospel is so counter-cultural that it appears as foolishness to those who are caught up in a culture that is obsessed with pragmatism, efficiency, relevance, status, materialism, and respectability. For those who are committed to living out the values of the Kingdom of God and the Gospel, it must look like foolish to most of the world. It was that way in the first century and it is the same in the twenty-first no matter how much lip service we pay to Jesus and claim that we are a “Christian” nation.
Francis was one of those followers of Jesus who really thought that Jesus wasn’t kidding when he invited people to “follow” him. Francis actually believed that Jesus really expected those who called him “Lord” to take him seriously. And so when Francis dramatically came to know the love and grace of Christ, he sought in all things to be like Jesus. The writer G.K. Chesterton called him a mirror of Christ—in the same way the moon reflects or mirrors the light of the sun. Murray Bodo has written: “It is easier to rationalize and dismiss Jesus than Francis, because Jesus, after all, is divine and so far above us. But Francis is only a human like us. What he is, we can become” (The Way of St. Francis, 1984:105-106).
“What he is, we can become.” Really? The Apostle Paul, writing in Philippians 3, points out the importance of models in the Christian life. “Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us” (Philippians 3:17). Francis is a model of what it means to be committed to Jesus.
Now, unlike Francis who gave up wealth and comfort and social standing to become a monk who dedicated himself to the rebuilding of Christ’s church, we may be called to live out our Gospel life in the school, home, job we are in (cf. 1 Corinthians 7:17-24). No vow of poverty, chastity and obedience. No retreating from the world to spend your life in a monastery dedicated to prayer, work and study. That is probably how it is for most of us. But all of us are called to be “holy fools” for Christ’s sake.
Holy Fools often jar our sensibilities of respectable Christianity. They make us uncomfortable. They rattle our spiritual complacency and make us stop and take a look at how much our life really is a reflection of the Gospel. These God-passionate, Spirit-drunk, Christ-focused men and women call us to walk a path that leads from mediocrity to abundant life. And just as holy fools like Francis challenge us, we as followers of Jesus are to be “holy fools” challenging others. Many of those around us who claim to be followers of Jesus have grown numb, dull, comfortable and apathetic. The role of each believer is “to provoke one another to love and good deeds” (Hebrews 10:24).
The Christian philosopher Soren Kierkegaard reminds us that: “The greatest danger to Christianity is…not heresies, heterodoxies, not atheists, not profane secularism—no, but the kind of orthodoxy which is cordial drivel, mediocrity served up sweet.” It is against this weakened, distorted, powerless-to-redeem understanding of the Gospel that Holy Fools are called to bear witness.
Thank God for Francis and for all those “fools” who continually remind us that our life can and should be much more. Are you a fool for Christ’s sake?
They may also know that that there are many, many stories and legends about Francis that relate his love for nature and his speaking, even preaching, to the animals (a sort of ecclesiastical Dr. Doolittle). And these quirks might lead some people to see Francis as a somewhat strange character. Well, they wouldn’t be too far off. Francis was strange in his day and he is even stranger in ours.
Francis is what I would call a “Holy Fool.” Back in the fourth century, a church leader by the name of John Chrysostom said: “Only a fool would attempt to change the world with a simple message of love and peace. So we can conclude that Jesus was a fool. Only fools would agree to follow such a man…So we can conclude that all of us are fools…So let all happily admit that we are fools. Then we will happily commit ourselves to change the world.”
Before Chrysostom, the Apostle Paul had referred to himself as “a fool for the sake of Christ” (1 Corinthians 4:10).The Gospel is so counter-cultural that it appears as foolishness to those who are caught up in a culture that is obsessed with pragmatism, efficiency, relevance, status, materialism, and respectability. For those who are committed to living out the values of the Kingdom of God and the Gospel, it must look like foolish to most of the world. It was that way in the first century and it is the same in the twenty-first no matter how much lip service we pay to Jesus and claim that we are a “Christian” nation.
Francis was one of those followers of Jesus who really thought that Jesus wasn’t kidding when he invited people to “follow” him. Francis actually believed that Jesus really expected those who called him “Lord” to take him seriously. And so when Francis dramatically came to know the love and grace of Christ, he sought in all things to be like Jesus. The writer G.K. Chesterton called him a mirror of Christ—in the same way the moon reflects or mirrors the light of the sun. Murray Bodo has written: “It is easier to rationalize and dismiss Jesus than Francis, because Jesus, after all, is divine and so far above us. But Francis is only a human like us. What he is, we can become” (The Way of St. Francis, 1984:105-106).
“What he is, we can become.” Really? The Apostle Paul, writing in Philippians 3, points out the importance of models in the Christian life. “Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us” (Philippians 3:17). Francis is a model of what it means to be committed to Jesus.
Now, unlike Francis who gave up wealth and comfort and social standing to become a monk who dedicated himself to the rebuilding of Christ’s church, we may be called to live out our Gospel life in the school, home, job we are in (cf. 1 Corinthians 7:17-24). No vow of poverty, chastity and obedience. No retreating from the world to spend your life in a monastery dedicated to prayer, work and study. That is probably how it is for most of us. But all of us are called to be “holy fools” for Christ’s sake.
Holy Fools often jar our sensibilities of respectable Christianity. They make us uncomfortable. They rattle our spiritual complacency and make us stop and take a look at how much our life really is a reflection of the Gospel. These God-passionate, Spirit-drunk, Christ-focused men and women call us to walk a path that leads from mediocrity to abundant life. And just as holy fools like Francis challenge us, we as followers of Jesus are to be “holy fools” challenging others. Many of those around us who claim to be followers of Jesus have grown numb, dull, comfortable and apathetic. The role of each believer is “to provoke one another to love and good deeds” (Hebrews 10:24).
The Christian philosopher Soren Kierkegaard reminds us that: “The greatest danger to Christianity is…not heresies, heterodoxies, not atheists, not profane secularism—no, but the kind of orthodoxy which is cordial drivel, mediocrity served up sweet.” It is against this weakened, distorted, powerless-to-redeem understanding of the Gospel that Holy Fools are called to bear witness.
Thank God for Francis and for all those “fools” who continually remind us that our life can and should be much more. Are you a fool for Christ’s sake?
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Journeys
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.
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.
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.
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