Love loves what is as it is.
I have been saying this for years, mostly because it represents a life-stance to which I aspire, not a stance I have attained. Alas, I discover over and over again how far I have yet to travel in order to make this truth my very own.
I wish "Love loves what is as it is" was a comforting insight. Truly, it doesn't offer comfort to me as much as it disturbs me, challenges me, and presses me to a more God-centered stance toward people and situations.
Authentic love is not aligned with certain favorable conditions that are conducive to love and goodwill. Real love is not based on another person changing their ways, and thus becoming more lovable. Transforming love does not withhold itself in protest or make half-baked promises which are conditioned on certain outcomes.
Love loves what is . . . as it is. It does not wait for change. It does not demand the other become lovable -- though for the health of the other and the world, it may be in everyone's best interest for the other to become more lovable! -- before it loves.
Most days I lose touch with this Love early in the morning. I become angry at persons who use power to diminish others or who lord it over those who have no power. I withhold kindness to punish others for the wounds I perceive they have inflicted on me. I wait for wrongs to be righted as a kind of penance before I dare to invest my love and life in a person or situation.
I am frequently called back to Love, however. I am reminded often of my intention to live from an anchored Center, to approach the world from a core of mercy and compassion, rather than judgment and division. I am welcomed back to my foundational belief that those who live from this Center (what Jesus called "the kingdom of God") make a difference in the world simply by their presence.
A few months ago Deepak Chopra was on a late-night talk show. In the midst of talk about the healing power of meditation, the conversation turned to the anxiety, tension, and conflict in the world right now, and Chopra's belief that the turbulence is a sign of society going through a time of transition.
Then the host asked Chopra about inviting the President for a week of meditation, saying, "Do you think you could break him down?" Chopra responded, "You don't need to break him down. Go beyond his wounds to what is really troubling him. He needs love."
I could feel the jolt within myself . . . the air sucked out of my lungs. I was aghast! The loudest part of my being shouted, "Love a narcissist, a bully? Never!"
And the still, small voice within me said, "You KNOW it's true. You must love! This is the path you've chosen. Now walk in it."
I am a sojourner on a life-long journey, moving both inward and outward, exploring both my own inner landscape and the terrain in which others live. While still moving into the center, I'm also stretching toward the edges. These reflections trace some of my exploration.
Reflections by Jerry Webber
Wednesday, November 28, 2018
Friday, November 23, 2018
The Kingdoms of This World
Luke 4:1-13
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, 2 where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. 3 The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” 4 Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”
5 Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. 6 And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. 7 If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” 8 Jesus answered him, “It is written,
‘Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.’”
9 Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, 10 for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,
to protect you,’
11 and
‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”
12 Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” 13 When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.
I most often read this temptation and testing story from the perspective of Matthew's Gospel. Recently, in moving through Luke's Gospel, I heard the story differently, with a nuance which had not caught my eye previously.
Specifically, I paid attention to vv. 5-8 more intentionally than simply giving the text a cursory reading. Perhaps I was influenced by the current state of affairs in the world. Whatever the reason, I felt a nudge to linger and consider those verses more deeply.
First, in the entire sequence Jesus is "led by the Holy Spirit" (4:1), which comes on the back-end of Jesus' baptism.
21 Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, 22 and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3:21-22)
At his baptism, Jesus' identity is confirmed. He hears down to his bones that he is the Son of God, he is pleasing to the Father, and his identity cannot be shaken nor severed. In a larger context, the three testings of Luke 4 are attempts to shake Jesus' understanding of himself, to cause him to doubt his core identity. And they come after a period of fasting alone in a wilderness where there are few external resources. In other words, at a time of weakness (H.A.L.T. = hungry, angry, lonely tired) Jesus was tempted to forsake his basic identity in God.
In the second wilderness test (4:5-8), the devil led Jesus up to where Jesus could see "in an instant" all the kingdoms of the world. By seeing in an instant, Jesus had a moment of illumination and enlightenment when he saw all the way through the kingdoms of the world. He saw how they operate, what makes them tick, how they do their business. In a moment of insight, Jesus sees into them, he sees how they work, and he sees what they are built upon.
Then Luke writes, as if to confirm what Jesus has seen in this enlightened vision, about the devil's offer to Jesus: "I will give you their power and authority, for they have all been given to me and I can give them to anyone as I please. Therefore, if you worship me, they will be yours." (This is the piece of the testing scene that I had previously overlooked.)
This is astounding . . . the kingdoms of the world, according to Luke's Gospel, have been given to the devil. They belong to this adversary, this one who stands opposed to God.
For whatever you think about the literal idea of "the devil," it is worth considering the words used in the New Testament for this being or spirit.
In Greek, satanas and satan are the words for accuser or adversary. The one called satan, then, is the one who operates by accusation, whose methodology is to accuse, accuse, accuse in an adversarial way. Pointing fingers, loudly accusing, belittling, sowing seeds of doubt, stoking the flames of fear . . . this is the work of the adversary.
In Greek, the word diabolos (from which we get "diabolical") is often translated "devil" and literally means "the one who divides or separates, the one who tears apart, the one who pits people against each other." Thus, the spirit of diabolos is to separate, to compete, to create conflict, to reduce everything in life down to winners versus losers.
So Luke 4:5-8 gives us a snapshot into how the kingdoms of this world operate, belonging as they do to the spirit of accusation and division (satanas). They accuse and belittle, they attack with barbs, they diminish the humanity of the other, they toss word-bombs from their places of power onto those who have little power.
And these kingdoms operate by dividing people out of fear (diabolos). They separate "us" from "them" They create conflict. They make enemies -- because creating enemies provides the energy of fear, which mobilizes people to act in self-protective ways.
Who are the contemporary "kingdoms of this world"? [This seems like picking low-hanging fruit, doesn't it?]
You can start with anyone or any group who has some kind of power in the world . . . whoever has built any kind of kingdom and then leans into accusation and division to solidity their power . . .
** big businesses who thrive on the competition and conflict inherent in a free-market economy . . . who create subtle and not-so-subtle trends that create a sense of "need" or "want" which competes with the needs and wants of others . . . the very notion of "haves" and "have-nots" is built on this conflict.
** politicians, for whom winning the next election no matter the cost nor the loss of integrity, is the sole objective. We hardly bat an eyelash anymore at politicians who, "Accuse! Accuse!! Accuse!!!" . . . who stoke fear . . . who belittle political opponents . . . who divide and create enemies . . . who separate persons based on religion, race, sexual orientation, nationality, political stance, and so on.
** government systems certainly are kingdoms of the world, only marginally built around compassion and mercy, and increasingly self-serving.
** religious institutions often look more like "kingdoms of the world" than the "kingdom of God" . . . fraught with competition, fomenting conflict, acting in self-interest, fearful of losing power, authority, or control . . . becoming places of judgment and exclusion rather than love, forgiveness, and reconciliation. (And this is not a recent trend, but rather, is a centuries-old hardening.)
The list could go on. The point is that if you are going to be a "successful" kingdom of this world, then you have to play by the rules and according to the spirit of the one to whom these kingdoms belong.
And this is the catch for Jesus. Jesus realizes, in his "instant" of insight, that if he is given the kingdoms of this world, he must also agree to manage or control the kingdoms by the methodology of the one giving them. To bow down and worship the devil means to take on the devil's means for operating the kingdoms of this world . . . the way of accusation and conflict, the way of division and enemy-creating.
To have the kingdoms of the world, you have to play by the rules of the accuser and the divider . . . you have to play by the rules of the kingdoms of the world . . . you have to hold power as they hold power . . . you have to deal with people as pawns the way they do . . . you have to think of soldiers as expendable commodities in order to further your purposes . . . you have to win -- or at least strive for winning -- so there is competition and fighting, wars and killing . . . you have to manipulate people to do your bidding, so you speak to the basic fears and insecurities of people, encouraging ill-will toward others . . . you demonize those whose way of life or life-orientation is different from yours.
And Jesus refuses! This is a trade he will not make! He is grounded in God. His long season of fasting in the wilderness has not weakened his connection with God, but rather has confirmed it. His resolve is stronger than ever . . . he is rooted in his identity in God, which is not founded on fear and insecurity, power and control, accusation and division. He will not accomplish his life-work using the methodology of the devil, or the kingdoms of the world.
He will not accuse; rather, he will love and he will forgive, even those who kill him for his subversive approach to life.
He will not divide and separate; rather, his life is about mercy, about union (with God, self, others, the world), about reconciliation (with God and others), and about making one that which the world has torn apart.
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, 2 where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. 3 The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” 4 Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”
5 Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. 6 And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. 7 If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” 8 Jesus answered him, “It is written,
‘Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.’”
9 Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, 10 for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,
to protect you,’
11 and
‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”
12 Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” 13 When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.
I most often read this temptation and testing story from the perspective of Matthew's Gospel. Recently, in moving through Luke's Gospel, I heard the story differently, with a nuance which had not caught my eye previously.
Specifically, I paid attention to vv. 5-8 more intentionally than simply giving the text a cursory reading. Perhaps I was influenced by the current state of affairs in the world. Whatever the reason, I felt a nudge to linger and consider those verses more deeply.
First, in the entire sequence Jesus is "led by the Holy Spirit" (4:1), which comes on the back-end of Jesus' baptism.
21 Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, 22 and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (Luke 3:21-22)
At his baptism, Jesus' identity is confirmed. He hears down to his bones that he is the Son of God, he is pleasing to the Father, and his identity cannot be shaken nor severed. In a larger context, the three testings of Luke 4 are attempts to shake Jesus' understanding of himself, to cause him to doubt his core identity. And they come after a period of fasting alone in a wilderness where there are few external resources. In other words, at a time of weakness (H.A.L.T. = hungry, angry, lonely tired) Jesus was tempted to forsake his basic identity in God.
In the second wilderness test (4:5-8), the devil led Jesus up to where Jesus could see "in an instant" all the kingdoms of the world. By seeing in an instant, Jesus had a moment of illumination and enlightenment when he saw all the way through the kingdoms of the world. He saw how they operate, what makes them tick, how they do their business. In a moment of insight, Jesus sees into them, he sees how they work, and he sees what they are built upon.
Then Luke writes, as if to confirm what Jesus has seen in this enlightened vision, about the devil's offer to Jesus: "I will give you their power and authority, for they have all been given to me and I can give them to anyone as I please. Therefore, if you worship me, they will be yours." (This is the piece of the testing scene that I had previously overlooked.)
This is astounding . . . the kingdoms of the world, according to Luke's Gospel, have been given to the devil. They belong to this adversary, this one who stands opposed to God.
For whatever you think about the literal idea of "the devil," it is worth considering the words used in the New Testament for this being or spirit.
In Greek, satanas and satan are the words for accuser or adversary. The one called satan, then, is the one who operates by accusation, whose methodology is to accuse, accuse, accuse in an adversarial way. Pointing fingers, loudly accusing, belittling, sowing seeds of doubt, stoking the flames of fear . . . this is the work of the adversary.
In Greek, the word diabolos (from which we get "diabolical") is often translated "devil" and literally means "the one who divides or separates, the one who tears apart, the one who pits people against each other." Thus, the spirit of diabolos is to separate, to compete, to create conflict, to reduce everything in life down to winners versus losers.
So Luke 4:5-8 gives us a snapshot into how the kingdoms of this world operate, belonging as they do to the spirit of accusation and division (satanas). They accuse and belittle, they attack with barbs, they diminish the humanity of the other, they toss word-bombs from their places of power onto those who have little power.
And these kingdoms operate by dividing people out of fear (diabolos). They separate "us" from "them" They create conflict. They make enemies -- because creating enemies provides the energy of fear, which mobilizes people to act in self-protective ways.
Who are the contemporary "kingdoms of this world"? [This seems like picking low-hanging fruit, doesn't it?]
You can start with anyone or any group who has some kind of power in the world . . . whoever has built any kind of kingdom and then leans into accusation and division to solidity their power . . .
** big businesses who thrive on the competition and conflict inherent in a free-market economy . . . who create subtle and not-so-subtle trends that create a sense of "need" or "want" which competes with the needs and wants of others . . . the very notion of "haves" and "have-nots" is built on this conflict.
** politicians, for whom winning the next election no matter the cost nor the loss of integrity, is the sole objective. We hardly bat an eyelash anymore at politicians who, "Accuse! Accuse!! Accuse!!!" . . . who stoke fear . . . who belittle political opponents . . . who divide and create enemies . . . who separate persons based on religion, race, sexual orientation, nationality, political stance, and so on.
** government systems certainly are kingdoms of the world, only marginally built around compassion and mercy, and increasingly self-serving.
** religious institutions often look more like "kingdoms of the world" than the "kingdom of God" . . . fraught with competition, fomenting conflict, acting in self-interest, fearful of losing power, authority, or control . . . becoming places of judgment and exclusion rather than love, forgiveness, and reconciliation. (And this is not a recent trend, but rather, is a centuries-old hardening.)
The list could go on. The point is that if you are going to be a "successful" kingdom of this world, then you have to play by the rules and according to the spirit of the one to whom these kingdoms belong.
And this is the catch for Jesus. Jesus realizes, in his "instant" of insight, that if he is given the kingdoms of this world, he must also agree to manage or control the kingdoms by the methodology of the one giving them. To bow down and worship the devil means to take on the devil's means for operating the kingdoms of this world . . . the way of accusation and conflict, the way of division and enemy-creating.
To have the kingdoms of the world, you have to play by the rules of the accuser and the divider . . . you have to play by the rules of the kingdoms of the world . . . you have to hold power as they hold power . . . you have to deal with people as pawns the way they do . . . you have to think of soldiers as expendable commodities in order to further your purposes . . . you have to win -- or at least strive for winning -- so there is competition and fighting, wars and killing . . . you have to manipulate people to do your bidding, so you speak to the basic fears and insecurities of people, encouraging ill-will toward others . . . you demonize those whose way of life or life-orientation is different from yours.
And Jesus refuses! This is a trade he will not make! He is grounded in God. His long season of fasting in the wilderness has not weakened his connection with God, but rather has confirmed it. His resolve is stronger than ever . . . he is rooted in his identity in God, which is not founded on fear and insecurity, power and control, accusation and division. He will not accomplish his life-work using the methodology of the devil, or the kingdoms of the world.
He will not accuse; rather, he will love and he will forgive, even those who kill him for his subversive approach to life.
He will not divide and separate; rather, his life is about mercy, about union (with God, self, others, the world), about reconciliation (with God and others), and about making one that which the world has torn apart.
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
Stepping across the Divide
Luke 19:1-10
Jesus was going through Jericho, 2 where a man named Zacchaeus lived. He was in charge of collecting taxes and was very rich. 3-4 Jesus was heading his way, and Zacchaeus wanted to see what he was like. But Zacchaeus was a short man and could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree.
5 When Jesus got there, he looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, hurry down! I want to stay with you today.” 6 Zacchaeus hurried down and gladly welcomed Jesus.
7 Everyone who saw this started grumbling, “This man Zacchaeus is a sinner! And Jesus is going home to eat with him.”
8 Later that day Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “I will give half of my property to the poor. And I will now pay back four times as much to everyone I have ever cheated.”
9 Jesus said to Zacchaeus, “Today you and your family have been saved, because you are a true son of Abraham. 10 The Son of Man came to look for and to save people who are lost.”
In the previous post, I wrote about the expectations John the Baptizer had of Jesus . . . that Jesus would replicate John's motivational methodology of fear and shame, while further dividing and separating people (the good from the bad). Jesus, the Messiah John anticipated, rejected those means of calling people to deeper life in God. Instead, Jesus' methodology was grounded in his own identity in God. By living in mercy, compassion, love, and reconciliation, he continually sought to uncover the core identity of others as sons and daughters of God.
The Gospel reading for today strikes me as an example of how Jesus refused the divisions commonly enforced by others, and instead offered compassionate generosity to persons, no matter who they were.
Zacchaeus was a wealthy man, even if his wealth came at the expense of others.
Even though rich, he was categorized as a "sinner" by virtue of his occupation. He was also a "sinner" by virtue of his relationship with the Roman Empire. He was in the employ of a foreign government, yet he got wealthy from collecting taxes from "his own people" (do you see the insider-outsider language which separates?). As a tax-collector, he served the occupying government, but his livelihood came at the expense of his home tribe.
To the Romans he was a lackey. To his own people he was a traitor.
In terms of the religious culture of the day, Zacchaeus was a "sinner." The word denotes a social class of people who engaged in work deemed corrupt or disreputable by the religious hierarchy. The category of "sinner" was used by conventional religion to indicate who was in and who was out, thus dividing or separating in order to keep "good" people at a distance from corrupt or unholy people.
Zacchaeus belonged to this social class of people designated by cultural standards to be corrupt or unclean.
Today, this same kind of divide is made wider by religious entities, denominations, and church leaders . . . by governments, policies, and partisan politicians . . . by corporations and marketing campaigns. Some people are in and some are out. Some are justified in their "righteousness" and others are deemed "godless."
Jesus continually crosses this line, walking back and forth across the divide, meeting people from both sides where they are. His mercy and efforts at reconciliation anger those who want to maintain separation, those who are invested in the divisions, those whose worldview depends on competition and creating real or imagined "enemies." After all, making those who have a different worldview your enemy always provides a reason to get up in the morning, always gives energy for a fight, always gives you someone to oppose, always offers you someone at whom to aim your vitriol.
Jesus' anger is never directed at those "on the other side" of the divide, those who have been excluded. If anything, his harshest words are aimed at those who try to maintain the divide, those who keep people separated -- from others and from God -- by categorizing and demonizing.
Zacchaeus is not a "tax-collector" . . . that's only what he does for a living.
Zacchaeus is not a "sinner" . . . that's what religion has labeled him for his lifestyle and his associations.
Jesus sees Zacchaeus as a son of God who has been broken by life, who may have made some questionable choices, who may have done some harmful things, but who is not ultimately to be defined by anything other than his interior connection to God (a "son of Abraham").
So Jesus steps compassionately across the divide toward this alienated man to uncover his truest self, in an effort to help Zacchaeus find this sense of himself which he had lost.
Those who want to maintain the divide hurl accusation: "He's making friendly with a sinner!" But Jesus doesn't see Zacchaeus - or anyone -- as "sinner." He only sees children who have become lost and who need to find their way home. So he says to Zacchaeus, "Come down from the tree. I'm going home with you today!"
The way of Jesus has never been, "Love your neighbor and those like you . . . hate your enemy and those you don't like." (Matt. 5:43)
The way of Jesus has always been, "Love your enemies and those you oppose . . . and then pray for those who refuse your love." (Matt. 5:44)
In that way, Jesus stepped across the divide toward Zacchaeus. And in that same way he continues to step across the divide in our own day.
Jesus was going through Jericho, 2 where a man named Zacchaeus lived. He was in charge of collecting taxes and was very rich. 3-4 Jesus was heading his way, and Zacchaeus wanted to see what he was like. But Zacchaeus was a short man and could not see over the crowd. So he ran ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree.
5 When Jesus got there, he looked up and said, “Zacchaeus, hurry down! I want to stay with you today.” 6 Zacchaeus hurried down and gladly welcomed Jesus.
7 Everyone who saw this started grumbling, “This man Zacchaeus is a sinner! And Jesus is going home to eat with him.”
8 Later that day Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord, “I will give half of my property to the poor. And I will now pay back four times as much to everyone I have ever cheated.”
9 Jesus said to Zacchaeus, “Today you and your family have been saved, because you are a true son of Abraham. 10 The Son of Man came to look for and to save people who are lost.”
In the previous post, I wrote about the expectations John the Baptizer had of Jesus . . . that Jesus would replicate John's motivational methodology of fear and shame, while further dividing and separating people (the good from the bad). Jesus, the Messiah John anticipated, rejected those means of calling people to deeper life in God. Instead, Jesus' methodology was grounded in his own identity in God. By living in mercy, compassion, love, and reconciliation, he continually sought to uncover the core identity of others as sons and daughters of God.
The Gospel reading for today strikes me as an example of how Jesus refused the divisions commonly enforced by others, and instead offered compassionate generosity to persons, no matter who they were.
Zacchaeus was a wealthy man, even if his wealth came at the expense of others.
Even though rich, he was categorized as a "sinner" by virtue of his occupation. He was also a "sinner" by virtue of his relationship with the Roman Empire. He was in the employ of a foreign government, yet he got wealthy from collecting taxes from "his own people" (do you see the insider-outsider language which separates?). As a tax-collector, he served the occupying government, but his livelihood came at the expense of his home tribe.
To the Romans he was a lackey. To his own people he was a traitor.
In terms of the religious culture of the day, Zacchaeus was a "sinner." The word denotes a social class of people who engaged in work deemed corrupt or disreputable by the religious hierarchy. The category of "sinner" was used by conventional religion to indicate who was in and who was out, thus dividing or separating in order to keep "good" people at a distance from corrupt or unholy people.
Zacchaeus belonged to this social class of people designated by cultural standards to be corrupt or unclean.
Today, this same kind of divide is made wider by religious entities, denominations, and church leaders . . . by governments, policies, and partisan politicians . . . by corporations and marketing campaigns. Some people are in and some are out. Some are justified in their "righteousness" and others are deemed "godless."
Jesus continually crosses this line, walking back and forth across the divide, meeting people from both sides where they are. His mercy and efforts at reconciliation anger those who want to maintain separation, those who are invested in the divisions, those whose worldview depends on competition and creating real or imagined "enemies." After all, making those who have a different worldview your enemy always provides a reason to get up in the morning, always gives energy for a fight, always gives you someone to oppose, always offers you someone at whom to aim your vitriol.
Jesus' anger is never directed at those "on the other side" of the divide, those who have been excluded. If anything, his harshest words are aimed at those who try to maintain the divide, those who keep people separated -- from others and from God -- by categorizing and demonizing.
Zacchaeus is not a "tax-collector" . . . that's only what he does for a living.
Zacchaeus is not a "sinner" . . . that's what religion has labeled him for his lifestyle and his associations.
Jesus sees Zacchaeus as a son of God who has been broken by life, who may have made some questionable choices, who may have done some harmful things, but who is not ultimately to be defined by anything other than his interior connection to God (a "son of Abraham").
So Jesus steps compassionately across the divide toward this alienated man to uncover his truest self, in an effort to help Zacchaeus find this sense of himself which he had lost.
Those who want to maintain the divide hurl accusation: "He's making friendly with a sinner!" But Jesus doesn't see Zacchaeus - or anyone -- as "sinner." He only sees children who have become lost and who need to find their way home. So he says to Zacchaeus, "Come down from the tree. I'm going home with you today!"
The way of Jesus has never been, "Love your neighbor and those like you . . . hate your enemy and those you don't like." (Matt. 5:43)
The way of Jesus has always been, "Love your enemies and those you oppose . . . and then pray for those who refuse your love." (Matt. 5:44)
In that way, Jesus stepped across the divide toward Zacchaeus. And in that same way he continues to step across the divide in our own day.
Labels:
compassion,
divide,
love,
Luke 19:1-10,
mercy,
reconciliation,
separation,
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Zacchaeus
Monday, November 19, 2018
In a World of Separation and Shame, Bringing Mercy and Reconciliation
Luke 3:1-20
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, 2 during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 3 He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 4 as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
5
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
6
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”
7 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
10 And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?” 11 In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” 13 He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 14 Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”
15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people. 19 But Herod the ruler, who had been rebuked by him because of Herodias, his brother’s wife, and because of all the evil things that Herod had done, 20 added to them all by shutting up John in prison.
The Gospel of Luke records the entrance of John the Baptizer onto the scene as a forerunner to Jesus' public ministry (Luke 3:1-20). John's role is to prepare the people for "the One who is to come." John's aim is to bring moral change among his listeners, so that "paths would be straight, roads would be leveled, and rough ways be made smooth."
This road-work, so to speak, provides an entryway for the coming Messiah to enter the lives of the people (Lk. 3:3-6).
What are the paths, roads, and rough ways which needed to be given attention? They are within you and me, the ways we are crooked, too high or too low, and rough. We make ready the pathways within ourselves in order to make a way for the coming of the Messiah into our lives.
John knew that to receive something big, something that can change your life, you have to get ready. You have to make some space. You have to prepare yourself. For John, that space is created by moral change, by living a moral life.
John is right in some ways, you know. A growing, deepening spirituality does not drop upon us like pixie dust when we utter a few rehearsed words or respond to a religious salesperson's pitch. To give ourselves fully in living as God's people in the world, we have to make ourselves ready through practice and intention. We have to open ourselves to new ways of seeing and being in the world with God, self, others, and the world. We have to see ourselves honestly and ruthlessly name what we have seen of our interior.
But John's methodology for this preparation, for getting his listeners to moral living, is all guilt and fear. He calls the people who gathered around him, "a brood of vipers" (3:7) as if to shame the crowd into life-change. Then he warns of future punishments for those who don't get their acts together: "the ax is already laid at the root of the tree" (3:9).
He even says the Messiah will come to continue this work of division and separation (3:17), naming some good and worthy (the wheat), while others would be separated as bad and unworthy (the chaff).
Perhaps John leans too much into the Old Testament idea that to be holy means to be set apart from anything unclean or evil. Holiness separates you from that which is corrupt, the thinking went.
At any rate, John projects his own ascetic notions of morality onto the Messiah.
Moral living is a fine goal, but John seems to miss that persons almost never get to morality through shame and fear. Shame and fear act mostly as external motivators. They have no grounding center. They motivate through anxiety about some promised punishment . . . or through some imagined sense that I am a no-good human being. Both shame and fear may produce different behavior for a short-term, but almost never produce long-term, inner transformation. They simply do not have that power.
Jesus, the Messiah who was to come, refused to motivate by fear or shame. In fact, Jesus' path was just the opposite. He affirms in even the lowest of the low that they, too, are beloved sons and daughters of God. He encourages persons not to identify with their sinfulness, but to identify with the God-connection at the heart of who they are. Jesus continually invites persons to stop giving so much attention to the externals of religion, but to deal with the "inside of the cup."
Further, Jesus does not fulfill John's notion that the Messiah divides and separates. In fact, Jesus comes to do the opposite. He reconciles divisions, heals brokenness, mends separations, and brings back together that which has been torn apart. All of Jesus' life-work is about putting together people and relationships who have been broken apart.
The words that best describe Jesus are mercy . . . compassion . . . love . . . reconciling . . . liberating. He seems intent on bringing together, while rejecting separation and division both in the world and within the family of God's people.
John seems to have projected his own path onto Jesus. John made his understanding God's understanding, rather than making God's understanding his understanding.
It is a common mistake, a human mistake we all make, and sometimes find writ large in contemporary culture.
You don't have to look far to see how modern politics, religious life, and the entire social order are bent toward division and separation, pooling together the "alike" while shunning, ostracizing, and demonizing the "unlike." It happens in Christian denominations. It happens in political campaigns. It happens in government affairs at every level. We divide and separate, making enemies of those with other views, all while trying to rally support for our perspective.
This, my friends, is not the way of Jesus. And it is not the way those who truly want to follow Jesus.
Jesus does not endorse John's methodology of guilt and shame. He does not endorse life-change through fear of punishment or anxiety about the future. And he has no intention of separating or dividing, splitting nations, races, religious factions, and groups into the haves and the have-nots.
To broken humans who have been torn up by the world, Jesus brings mercy and compassion, helping all persons come back to a sense of who they are in God.
John got this fundamentally wrong about Jesus. Such basic, foundational spiritual work never happens by guilt and shame . . . nor by division and separation.
This work happens through love . . . mercy . . . compassion . . . reconciliation. And this is how Jesus still goes about his work in our world . . . denominational power plays, political rhetoric, and social divisions notwithstanding.
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, 2 during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 3 He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 4 as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
5
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
6
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”
7 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
10 And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?” 11 In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” 13 He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 14 Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”
15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people. 19 But Herod the ruler, who had been rebuked by him because of Herodias, his brother’s wife, and because of all the evil things that Herod had done, 20 added to them all by shutting up John in prison.
The Gospel of Luke records the entrance of John the Baptizer onto the scene as a forerunner to Jesus' public ministry (Luke 3:1-20). John's role is to prepare the people for "the One who is to come." John's aim is to bring moral change among his listeners, so that "paths would be straight, roads would be leveled, and rough ways be made smooth."
This road-work, so to speak, provides an entryway for the coming Messiah to enter the lives of the people (Lk. 3:3-6).
What are the paths, roads, and rough ways which needed to be given attention? They are within you and me, the ways we are crooked, too high or too low, and rough. We make ready the pathways within ourselves in order to make a way for the coming of the Messiah into our lives.
John knew that to receive something big, something that can change your life, you have to get ready. You have to make some space. You have to prepare yourself. For John, that space is created by moral change, by living a moral life.
John is right in some ways, you know. A growing, deepening spirituality does not drop upon us like pixie dust when we utter a few rehearsed words or respond to a religious salesperson's pitch. To give ourselves fully in living as God's people in the world, we have to make ourselves ready through practice and intention. We have to open ourselves to new ways of seeing and being in the world with God, self, others, and the world. We have to see ourselves honestly and ruthlessly name what we have seen of our interior.
But John's methodology for this preparation, for getting his listeners to moral living, is all guilt and fear. He calls the people who gathered around him, "a brood of vipers" (3:7) as if to shame the crowd into life-change. Then he warns of future punishments for those who don't get their acts together: "the ax is already laid at the root of the tree" (3:9).
He even says the Messiah will come to continue this work of division and separation (3:17), naming some good and worthy (the wheat), while others would be separated as bad and unworthy (the chaff).
Perhaps John leans too much into the Old Testament idea that to be holy means to be set apart from anything unclean or evil. Holiness separates you from that which is corrupt, the thinking went.
At any rate, John projects his own ascetic notions of morality onto the Messiah.
Moral living is a fine goal, but John seems to miss that persons almost never get to morality through shame and fear. Shame and fear act mostly as external motivators. They have no grounding center. They motivate through anxiety about some promised punishment . . . or through some imagined sense that I am a no-good human being. Both shame and fear may produce different behavior for a short-term, but almost never produce long-term, inner transformation. They simply do not have that power.
Jesus, the Messiah who was to come, refused to motivate by fear or shame. In fact, Jesus' path was just the opposite. He affirms in even the lowest of the low that they, too, are beloved sons and daughters of God. He encourages persons not to identify with their sinfulness, but to identify with the God-connection at the heart of who they are. Jesus continually invites persons to stop giving so much attention to the externals of religion, but to deal with the "inside of the cup."
Further, Jesus does not fulfill John's notion that the Messiah divides and separates. In fact, Jesus comes to do the opposite. He reconciles divisions, heals brokenness, mends separations, and brings back together that which has been torn apart. All of Jesus' life-work is about putting together people and relationships who have been broken apart.
The words that best describe Jesus are mercy . . . compassion . . . love . . . reconciling . . . liberating. He seems intent on bringing together, while rejecting separation and division both in the world and within the family of God's people.
John seems to have projected his own path onto Jesus. John made his understanding God's understanding, rather than making God's understanding his understanding.
It is a common mistake, a human mistake we all make, and sometimes find writ large in contemporary culture.
You don't have to look far to see how modern politics, religious life, and the entire social order are bent toward division and separation, pooling together the "alike" while shunning, ostracizing, and demonizing the "unlike." It happens in Christian denominations. It happens in political campaigns. It happens in government affairs at every level. We divide and separate, making enemies of those with other views, all while trying to rally support for our perspective.
This, my friends, is not the way of Jesus. And it is not the way those who truly want to follow Jesus.
Jesus does not endorse John's methodology of guilt and shame. He does not endorse life-change through fear of punishment or anxiety about the future. And he has no intention of separating or dividing, splitting nations, races, religious factions, and groups into the haves and the have-nots.
To broken humans who have been torn up by the world, Jesus brings mercy and compassion, helping all persons come back to a sense of who they are in God.
John got this fundamentally wrong about Jesus. Such basic, foundational spiritual work never happens by guilt and shame . . . nor by division and separation.
This work happens through love . . . mercy . . . compassion . . . reconciliation. And this is how Jesus still goes about his work in our world . . . denominational power plays, political rhetoric, and social divisions notwithstanding.
Monday, November 12, 2018
A Check on Your Opinions
The world contains a huge amount of anxious, angry energy at present. Maybe it always has done so . . . this anxious and destructive energy likely has always existed just beneath the surface. But somehow it feels more toxic now that it had made a home in plain sight.
Colliding worldviews and divisions give us pause even to engage in conversations that once would have been considered normal and everyday. [Am I the only one with an wary eye on Thanksgiving week and the family gatherings that include emboldened, combative voices from across ideological spectrums?]
As one of my favorite sports talk-show hosts used to say, "Opinions are like noses: Everybody has one." Indeed, everybody has an opinion.
But not all opinions are created equal, and simply holding an opinion strongly or loudly or stubbornly does not make that opinion life-giving or healthy or whole-making.
In fact, maybe we would do well to hold up those phrases to the ideologies or worldviews to which we cling:
** Is it life-giving? Is it life-giving for you? Is it life-giving for others? Does it lead to fullness of life for everyone concerned? Or does it diminish life?
** Is it healthy? That is, does it come from a place of healing and reconciliation? Does it lead to health (spiritual, emotional, physical) in you and others?
** Does it make the world whole? Does it help persons become complete? Does it help you and others live in the world as people who follow in the steps of Jesus? Is it something Jesus would support or advocate for? Does it hold together divisions? Or does it create more splits and deepen chasms?
I fully realize that not everyone will want to ask questions like these of themselves. But I also realize that for those who call themselves followers of Jesus, these are basic, fundamental stances for Christian disciples.
Colliding worldviews and divisions give us pause even to engage in conversations that once would have been considered normal and everyday. [Am I the only one with an wary eye on Thanksgiving week and the family gatherings that include emboldened, combative voices from across ideological spectrums?]
As one of my favorite sports talk-show hosts used to say, "Opinions are like noses: Everybody has one." Indeed, everybody has an opinion.
But not all opinions are created equal, and simply holding an opinion strongly or loudly or stubbornly does not make that opinion life-giving or healthy or whole-making.
In fact, maybe we would do well to hold up those phrases to the ideologies or worldviews to which we cling:
** Is it life-giving? Is it life-giving for you? Is it life-giving for others? Does it lead to fullness of life for everyone concerned? Or does it diminish life?
** Is it healthy? That is, does it come from a place of healing and reconciliation? Does it lead to health (spiritual, emotional, physical) in you and others?
** Does it make the world whole? Does it help persons become complete? Does it help you and others live in the world as people who follow in the steps of Jesus? Is it something Jesus would support or advocate for? Does it hold together divisions? Or does it create more splits and deepen chasms?
I fully realize that not everyone will want to ask questions like these of themselves. But I also realize that for those who call themselves followers of Jesus, these are basic, fundamental stances for Christian disciples.
Tuesday, November 6, 2018
Spiritual Life and the Social Order
The inward spiritual journey always impacts life in the outer world.
A deepening connection with God (the inner work) always makes a difference in who we are with (and how we see) God, self, others, and the world (the outer work).
The spiritual dimension of life should always impact the social order in which we live.
In fact, the spiritual life gives you and me a different way of being in the world, a way of swimming upstream against the prevailing current of the social order, without having to adopt the means by which society plays the game.
To “play the game” by the rules of society is merely a way of granting legitimacy to those rules and to the social order that created them.
“The ‘team’ with the most votes wins . . . or the side that has the strongest argument is right . . . or this election is a referendum on _________.”
The social order acts – and throughout history, always has – as if it holds all the cards, as if it is the most powerful order in the world. The prevailing social “wisdom” assumes that because it creates the rules, passes the legislation, and determines what is important and unimportant, that it must be the most powerful aspect of life, whether that social wisdom represents “the Left” or “the Right”.
On the other hand, those given to the spiritual world and the spiritual realm of life bet their lives that there is a Spiritual Presence that undergirds all of life, a Divine Source present always and everywhere to which the prevailing social order is largely oblivious. Further, underlying the spiritual life is the conviction that the real authority and power in life is this Spiritual Presence, that all social claims to power and authority are mere pretenders.
So I’m pondering what it means to be a contemplative presence in the kind of world in which we live (and in which we have always lived). What is my life about as I seek to live in the world from the Center, tethered to the Source of all things?
I recognize that for centuries, when the Church was complicit in society’s corruption, those who carried forward the way of Jesus had to do so underground, in ways and in places that were quiet, unseen, and out of the mainstream. In fact, in those centuries, the mainstream expressions of religious faith were just as corrupt as society at large, filled more with the messages of the social order than with the Gospel. So it was up to mystics, monks, and holy women to carry – and live into – a way of being in the world that was healing and regenerative, rather than divisive, hostile, and hysteric.
In the Middle Ages, Popes, Cardinals, and Bishops were a part of royal courts, in the service of monarchs, and a part of the corruption that comes with power. In those settings, the religious authorities offered widespread blessing of the very corruption that served some well, but oppressed most. In those days, it was up to mystics to speak of an authentic connection with God that ran deeper than political influence. Monasteries became places where simplicity and poverty of spirit symbolized a stance against the power structures of the day. But that kind of resistance flowed mostly underground.
In the 1930’s, the Church in Germany so totally adopted the platform of the Nazis that Christians could no longer see what was real. Persons who carried forward an authentically Gospel message – like Dietrich Bonhoeffer – had to do so through an underground Church, so totally had the mainstream Church and clergy adopted the prevailing social order.
So today, the calling of those who would be awake, who would seek a deepening connection with God that makes a difference in the world, may take an underground, almost subversive form. That is not to say contemplatives or those who lean into the spiritual dimension of life should not be active in the social order, in political systems, government, business, and so on. Always, part of the Divine invitation is to work and pray for a more just, more merciful and compassionate world (“on earth as it is in heaven”). So we do not “sit this one out.” However, we also acknowledge that trusting in elections, legislation, capitalism, and policies to change hearts is misplaced trust.
Your spiritual journey makes a difference in the world.
Your practice of prayer impacts the circumference of your realm of influence.
Your openness to a deepening connection with God creates healing space within you and around you that touches the world with wholeness and generosity.
Your soul’s tether to the Source of Life is stronger and more real than all the power, control, and legislations of the social order.
And in your intention to live from a life-giving Center, you carry on an underground tradition that no power of the world can curb.
Friday, November 2, 2018
Crossroads Voices: Giving Thanks at All Saints and All Souls
GOD’s Message yet again:
“Go stand at the crossroads and look around.
Ask for directions to the old road,
The tried-and-true road. Then take it.
Discover the right route for your souls.
But they said, ‘Nothing doing.
We aren’t going that way.’”
(Jeremiah 6:16, The Message)
At times, I stand at a crossroads and look around for direction on the path to take onward . . . and hear nothing, see nothing.
At other times, I stand at the crossroads and look around for wisdom . . . and what I hear or see or sense seems too difficult, too unreasonable. I’m not yet ready to go in the way I’m being led.
And at other times, I stand at the crossroads, noticing the several ways that branch out from that intersection, and I find myself ready to hear and follow the wisdom that I sense in that moment. Very often for me, that wisdom comes in the form of a person, a voice, another life who shows up at just the moment I’m needing wisdom at the crossroads.
Sometimes the voice that shows up is someone speaking across the ages . . . the voice of someone in days past who has lived wisely and courageously shared their wisdom . . . in order to help guide other travelers . . . a poet like Rilke or an otherwise unsuspect woman who lived underneath the notice of her times like Mother Julian.
I am aware of how indebted I am to these other voices, these other lives. I stand on the shoulders of so many others, as do you. There is no such thing as a “self-made man” or a “self-made woman.” All of us are products of those who have guided us when we were seeking direction at the crossroads, open to wisdom that has guided others before us in ways that are healing and life-giving, in ways that enable us to live with fullness of soul.
Yesterday was the Feast of All Saints and today is the Feast of All Souls. These days on the calendar give opportunity to pause and remember those who have gone before us, those who have shared their wisdom when we were at crossroads, lost and searching. I have given more time than usual this year to reflecting on the importance of these two days because of three deaths last week of persons who shared their wisdom with me in different ways, yet all when I was at various crossroads.
Eugene Peterson died last week. In a story I’ve told often, I first encountered Peterson through a friend who sent me a copy of Working the Angles in the early 1990’s. I had recently completed four years of rigorous doctoral work that had occupied every spare moment that didn’t include family or church responsibilities. I was in a dry spot, facing my own internal emptiness. I didn’t know I was standing at a crossroads looking for wisdom, but in hindsight I very clear was doing just that. As I read Peterson’s words in Working the Angles, I knew he was talking right to my heart and soul. The moment was pivotal and the course I took in reading his words had huge repercussions on everything that has unfolded in my life in the 25 years since.
Peterson gave me a language for my soul’s yearning, and some basic practices that began to feed my soul. I quickly bought as many of his books as I could find. In the summer of 1995 I took a sabbatical for study and refreshment. I took several weeks to study under Peterson at Regent College in Vancouver. The time was transforming, feasting on Peterson’s talks in the mornings, then spending the rest of the long British Columbia days exploring mountains, hiking in forests, discovering waterfalls, dipping my feet into glacial lakes. I ended up going back to Vancouver for his classes four or five times.
In recent years, I have found myself pushing back more and more on some of his assumptions, but isn’t that the way it is with our mentors? He and I grew in different ways, ways unique to each of us. Even so, I have never stopped being grateful for how he gave me an early language for what was happening in my soul.
Kyrie eleison.
Fr Thomas Keating died last week. I don’t remember my first encounter with Fr Keating. I practiced Centering Prayer – thanks to another saint, Sr Adeline O’Donoghue – before I knew who Keating was. Sr Adeline probably introduced me to him, as well, in the mid-1990’s. At any rate, the first book by Keating I read was not his introduction to Centering Prayer, Open Mind, Open Heart, but his book which explained the interior workings of contemplative prayer, Invitation to Love. Keating had a deep, experiential grasp of contemplative prayer and how it operates in a person’s soul. He was smart and knew a lot of psychology, but most of what he shared was borne of personal experience. He did not simply repeat someone else’s theory.
I ended up meeting Keating a handful of times and hearing him speak in person. He was a large man, commanding a room in his white monk’s habit, but gentle and funny. And in either conversation or teaching, his words always seemed to arise from a deep place within him. There was weight in his speech, gravitas, something that seemed to come from a deep interior well. He knew who he was and was comfortable with who he was, so he was not demonstrative or persuasive or motivational. He did not need to be someone other than the person he was. My time with him helped shape my own notion of what it means to be wise . . . that wisdom comes from spiritual reflection and integrating life experiences, from considering life deeply.
I grieve that the world will be without Fr Keating’s physical presence. But I celebrate that wisely, Keating and others years ago formed Contemplative Outreach as a structure that would carry on the work of contemplative prayer and serve as a vehicle for transformation through this unassuming prayer practice.
Christe eleison.
Robert Winn died last week. In my home church in Tulsa, I served on the staff for four years during college and for a year after college before leaving for seminary . . . and I served alongside Robert. I was fairly new to the “Christian-thing” and brand new to the “church staff thing.” Robert was the older, wiser presence – in my late teens, I thought he was an old man . . . turns out Robert was only 14 years older than I am, so he was in his early 30’s . . . still, he was an “old man” to me as a teenager.
Robert was the one person on that staff I could go to for advice and wisdom, the person whose door was always open to me. Any other staff person, I would have needed an appointment to see. I could seek him out with questions about how to do things, how to approach certain aspects of ministry. He was funny, relaxed, and the afternoons we spent in ping-pong battles in the church’s game room produced some epic matches. He was a friend and an early mentor. For many years, I carried with me Robert’s notions about what it means to serve well on a church staff. As much as anyone, especially early in ministry, he taught me about survival in a local church.
Kyrie eleison.
Who have been your “crossroads” voices?
For whom do you give thanks at All Saints and All Souls?
Kyrie eleison
Christe eleison
Kyrie eleison
“Go stand at the crossroads and look around.
Ask for directions to the old road,
The tried-and-true road. Then take it.
Discover the right route for your souls.
But they said, ‘Nothing doing.
We aren’t going that way.’”
(Jeremiah 6:16, The Message)
At times, I stand at a crossroads and look around for direction on the path to take onward . . . and hear nothing, see nothing.
At other times, I stand at the crossroads and look around for wisdom . . . and what I hear or see or sense seems too difficult, too unreasonable. I’m not yet ready to go in the way I’m being led.
And at other times, I stand at the crossroads, noticing the several ways that branch out from that intersection, and I find myself ready to hear and follow the wisdom that I sense in that moment. Very often for me, that wisdom comes in the form of a person, a voice, another life who shows up at just the moment I’m needing wisdom at the crossroads.
Sometimes the voice that shows up is someone speaking across the ages . . . the voice of someone in days past who has lived wisely and courageously shared their wisdom . . . in order to help guide other travelers . . . a poet like Rilke or an otherwise unsuspect woman who lived underneath the notice of her times like Mother Julian.
I am aware of how indebted I am to these other voices, these other lives. I stand on the shoulders of so many others, as do you. There is no such thing as a “self-made man” or a “self-made woman.” All of us are products of those who have guided us when we were seeking direction at the crossroads, open to wisdom that has guided others before us in ways that are healing and life-giving, in ways that enable us to live with fullness of soul.
Yesterday was the Feast of All Saints and today is the Feast of All Souls. These days on the calendar give opportunity to pause and remember those who have gone before us, those who have shared their wisdom when we were at crossroads, lost and searching. I have given more time than usual this year to reflecting on the importance of these two days because of three deaths last week of persons who shared their wisdom with me in different ways, yet all when I was at various crossroads.
Eugene Peterson died last week. In a story I’ve told often, I first encountered Peterson through a friend who sent me a copy of Working the Angles in the early 1990’s. I had recently completed four years of rigorous doctoral work that had occupied every spare moment that didn’t include family or church responsibilities. I was in a dry spot, facing my own internal emptiness. I didn’t know I was standing at a crossroads looking for wisdom, but in hindsight I very clear was doing just that. As I read Peterson’s words in Working the Angles, I knew he was talking right to my heart and soul. The moment was pivotal and the course I took in reading his words had huge repercussions on everything that has unfolded in my life in the 25 years since.
Peterson gave me a language for my soul’s yearning, and some basic practices that began to feed my soul. I quickly bought as many of his books as I could find. In the summer of 1995 I took a sabbatical for study and refreshment. I took several weeks to study under Peterson at Regent College in Vancouver. The time was transforming, feasting on Peterson’s talks in the mornings, then spending the rest of the long British Columbia days exploring mountains, hiking in forests, discovering waterfalls, dipping my feet into glacial lakes. I ended up going back to Vancouver for his classes four or five times.
In recent years, I have found myself pushing back more and more on some of his assumptions, but isn’t that the way it is with our mentors? He and I grew in different ways, ways unique to each of us. Even so, I have never stopped being grateful for how he gave me an early language for what was happening in my soul.
Kyrie eleison.
Fr Thomas Keating died last week. I don’t remember my first encounter with Fr Keating. I practiced Centering Prayer – thanks to another saint, Sr Adeline O’Donoghue – before I knew who Keating was. Sr Adeline probably introduced me to him, as well, in the mid-1990’s. At any rate, the first book by Keating I read was not his introduction to Centering Prayer, Open Mind, Open Heart, but his book which explained the interior workings of contemplative prayer, Invitation to Love. Keating had a deep, experiential grasp of contemplative prayer and how it operates in a person’s soul. He was smart and knew a lot of psychology, but most of what he shared was borne of personal experience. He did not simply repeat someone else’s theory.
I ended up meeting Keating a handful of times and hearing him speak in person. He was a large man, commanding a room in his white monk’s habit, but gentle and funny. And in either conversation or teaching, his words always seemed to arise from a deep place within him. There was weight in his speech, gravitas, something that seemed to come from a deep interior well. He knew who he was and was comfortable with who he was, so he was not demonstrative or persuasive or motivational. He did not need to be someone other than the person he was. My time with him helped shape my own notion of what it means to be wise . . . that wisdom comes from spiritual reflection and integrating life experiences, from considering life deeply.
I grieve that the world will be without Fr Keating’s physical presence. But I celebrate that wisely, Keating and others years ago formed Contemplative Outreach as a structure that would carry on the work of contemplative prayer and serve as a vehicle for transformation through this unassuming prayer practice.
Christe eleison.
Robert Winn died last week. In my home church in Tulsa, I served on the staff for four years during college and for a year after college before leaving for seminary . . . and I served alongside Robert. I was fairly new to the “Christian-thing” and brand new to the “church staff thing.” Robert was the older, wiser presence – in my late teens, I thought he was an old man . . . turns out Robert was only 14 years older than I am, so he was in his early 30’s . . . still, he was an “old man” to me as a teenager.
Robert was the one person on that staff I could go to for advice and wisdom, the person whose door was always open to me. Any other staff person, I would have needed an appointment to see. I could seek him out with questions about how to do things, how to approach certain aspects of ministry. He was funny, relaxed, and the afternoons we spent in ping-pong battles in the church’s game room produced some epic matches. He was a friend and an early mentor. For many years, I carried with me Robert’s notions about what it means to serve well on a church staff. As much as anyone, especially early in ministry, he taught me about survival in a local church.
Kyrie eleison.
Who have been your “crossroads” voices?
For whom do you give thanks at All Saints and All Souls?
Kyrie eleison
Christe eleison
Kyrie eleison
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