contemplative's posterous

A believable lifestyle

‎"It is vital that Christians lead a lifestyle that is believable to those outside of the Church. We must be examples of saints, people who believe, live, and do the work of Christ in the world. We must live our lives as if they are a prayer, a sacrament, an outward and visible sign of the presence of God. We must be holy; we must be mystics; we must be saints. We must be aware and see that our lives of prayer and action make all the difference." 

--A Celtic Model of Ministry, by Jerry C. Doherty

In memory of Madeleine Beard

Dear family and friends of Madeleine,

How I wish I were with you, to say this to you, face to face.  How much more I wish that this did not need to be said at all.

But alas.

In his New Testament letters, St Paul often makes mention of one person or other as his brother or sister in the faith.  On occasion he also refers to someone as his co-laborer in the faith or his co-laborer in the Gospel.  Many years ago, I thought I knew what that meant.  I thought that meant two people in ministry together.  Two people working on the same ministry team.

And then Madeleine came into my life, and I was forced to change my mind.   The experience of being in ministry together with Madeleine was something so much larger than just the two of us doing ministry together at the same time and same place.   Co-laboring with her wasn't about working together, but about being IN LABOR together.    

Working in ministry with Madeleine was less like being a midwife to others than finding ourselves as expectant mothers in the same maternity ward.  As though we found ourselves both giving birth to new life.  Being in labor together with Madeleine was a strange new experience of giving birth to faith itself.  This experience of being co-laborers, of being in labor together, made the birthing process more potent, more life-giving.   Not that we, in our ministry, were helping to give birth to the faith of others, but that our being in ministry together was helping to give birth to our own faith.  Our co-laboring created more depth, more power, more sense of the presence of God, more experience to our own faith.

For this I will be ever grateful.  She was one of God's great gifts to my life.  And the gift of Madeleine to me is as much a proof of the love of God as ever I've seen.  And experiencing the love of God this powerfully, this vitally, this viscerally, gives birth not only to faith, but to hope.  The hope of more.   The hope that today is not the end of our experience of God's gift of Madeleine, but that there is so more to the Madeleine experience yet to come.  So much more.

But not yet.  Today we remember with gratitude, but we weep with sadness.  Not a sadness without hope, yet such a deep sadness all the same.  And we weep together.

In gratitide for the gift of Madeleine, and in sorrow with you,

Rick+

Words

My daughter Sarah and I were having an interesting conversation, and I wanted a word to describe something.  I couldn't think of one. I looked in dictionaries, thesauri, and the internet.  Still couldn't find one.

So I coined these:

"naophilism -- An exaggerated devotion to a religious building, which unintentionally displaces the centrality of prayer, spiritual awakening of persons, the quest for personal transformation, discipleship (following Jesus), spiritual development of the community, service to others, which are the means be which one loves God and one's neighbor."

"museophilism: An exaggerated emphasis on or devotion to music in religion, which unintentionally displaces the centrality of prayer, spiritual awakening of persons, the quest for personal transformation, discipleship (following Jesus), spiritual development of the community, service to others, which are the means be which one loves God and one's neighbor." 

Being and Nothingness

I listened in once on a group of people faced with the soon coming demolition of their crumbling, historic church building.  When discussing the replacement building, younger members insisted on adding restrooms to the new building.  An elderly woman who had missed very few Sundays of worship in her 80+ years as a member of the church objected in horror.  "Restooms in a church?  How appalling!  I can't IMAGINE being able to pray if that sort of thing were happening at the same time in the same building!" 

Recently an acquaintance described her surprise when driving through the Florida panhandle, at the countless number of little storefront churches, next door to pawn shops, in roadside strip malls.

Some of us simply cannot imagine gathering in a store front next to a pawn shop.  

We find the idea so utterly appalling that if conditions required us to choose between that and our beautiful, traditional, historic building, we risk finding ourselves preferring nothingness over being together.

Others of us cannot imagine gathering in a traditional building.  We find the idea so utterly appalling that if conditions required us to choose between that and a store front, we risk finding ourselves preferring nothingness rather than somethingness.

Perhaps we suffer from an appalling lack of imagination.

Saving one's life

My life as a pastor has always focused on the way forward for the spiritual health and vitality both for individual persons and for congregations.

Those in long-established congregations have heard me say, many times, that the way forward for their spiritual health and vitality necessarily requires a working priority on increasing mission to those in their immediate context (not just to those far away). They've always heard me say that with very few exceptions, this mission includes the ongoing intention of creating new communities of disciples outside themselves. 

But during my last pastorate, I was surprised to see how much that conviction deepened. I become persuaded that increasing local mission and creating new communities should be considered no more optional for the budget and attention of rectors and vestries than tending to roofs and heating systems. On the contrary -- roofs and heating systems are optional; while mission is integral to the identity of church qua church. 

Because this conviction deepened so much, some began to feel the need for me to take an extended time to research, test, and reflect upon those convictions, and I agreed. In addition to testing whether these convictions were true or misguided, I wanted to test whether these convictions were well recognized by others. I've known enough crackpots in my life to want to make sure that I don't become one myself!

So I took an unofficial leave of absence from being a pastor/rector. Stepping away would provide some space to experiment (in ways that I really could not as rector of my parish) as well as some time to think. After a year and a half of research, testing, and reflecting (lots of opportunity to "sleep on it"!), I'm now satisfied that those convictions were on target. And that I'm not some aberrant oddball with some strange ideas.

P.D. James, the Anglican, Prayerbook patron novelist, wrote Children of Men -- which can be seen as a useful parable for many things, including the life of congregations. Her cautionary tale describes the resulting dysfunction, despair, and total collapse of a world in which the norm was for families to stop making new families through child bearing and raising. 

Or, more simply, consider the Christmas tree as a metaphor for what happens when a rector/vestry/congregation ignores certain realities. No matter how much we love the shape and smell of our trees when we bring them into our lives in December, no matter how we decorate them, once the cutters separate trees from their roots, their futures are already determined. In vain we water and mist them daily;  Yet inexorably they they become increasingly brittle.  Slowly at first, and then more rapidly, their needles fall away, dry and lifeless. By the time we finally toss them out, they've been long dead,  -- leaving nothing behind but memories and random needles scattered here and there in the carpet. 

But unlike Christmas trees, which have no hope, there is a way forward for the future of congregations. Congregations can be restored to their roots -- if they don't wait too long.

Sadly, congregations can and usually do wait too long. 

Denominations avoid publishing the names of parishes that collapse, close their doors, or are merged into others. I've been told that my own diocese numbers something like 10 fewer congregations than when I first came to the diocese. Recently, one of our diocesan deacons said we expect to lose another 20 during our current leadership cycle -- the same rate of decline for denominations and dioceses across the country. 

What is crucial to remember is this: 

1) Unlike Christmas trees, congregations can be restored to their roots -- if they don't wait too long.

2) But congregations cannot be restored to their roots by luck. It can only be done intentionally -- and that intentional restoration will not be easy, nor universally welcomed.

3) A priority on increasing mission to those in our immediate context (not just to those far away), is NOT the serving of the needs of othersat the expense of our own needs. It is the serving of our own needs. It is the way forward for our own spiritual health and vitality. Jesus didn't tell us to give our lives for others so that they would live and we would die... he told us that giving our lives for others is the way forward so that we could live. Congregations who don't want to be cast out after Christmas, with brittle, baren branches, will intentionally reconnect to their roots. With very few exceptions, this will include the ongoing intention of creating new communities of disciples outside themselves.

Silence...

Friends have been asking why I haven't posted for a while. The fact
is that I've been working on a book on Christian discipleship. I'm
still at it... and really hope to get it finished. I haven't enough
time to do both... so I will continue to do my writing offline,
behind the scenes.

Friends who want to keep up can check in on Facebook... which doesn't
takes as much time, energy, or thought.

Cheers!
Rick+

Easter - meditation by Fr Richard Rohr

EASTER

In the risen Jesus, God reveals the final state of all reality.  God challenges us through Jesus never to accept "as-it-is" as much as "what-God's-love-can-make-it."  Biblical faith means to cross and transcend boundaries.  Because of Jesus we realistically can have a passion for the possible and for more.   In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is invariably taking them back and forth across the Sea of Galilee, and the change in location becomes a symbol of a change of perspective.

The risen Jesus reveals the true meaning of life’s journey: paradise regained.  The Resurrection is heaven—here, now—revealed by the risen Christ—unbounded by space or time.  He is not rising up to some preexistent place, but revealing that what we think is far off heaven is already in ordinary “Galilee.”  The fact that he returns to embodiment, tells us that salvation is first of all in this world, and embodiment is good.  He meets the disciples back at their jobs, the women in their very human grief, with friends for breakfast, with two men walking along a road, and first of all to a very human friend, Mary of Magdala.  He does not leave this world.  He re-enters this world as it is and reveals its radiance.

Adapted from Radical Grace: Daily Meditations, p. 150, day 159

Starter prayer:
He has risen! Alleluia! 

If you are inspired by Fr. Richard's Daily Meditations,
please consider both receiving
Radical Grace, the publication of the CAC, 
and visiting the CAC Mustard Seed Resource Center!

Copyright © 2011 Center for Action and Contemplation
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PO Box 12464, Albuquerque, NM 87195-2464 (mailing) 
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A true Lenten Fast

I love Lent!

Most years I follow a traditional Lenten fast: no meats, sweets (including artificial, eg., no Diet Coke), no oils (including butter or margarine), and no wines/alcohol.

I always read a spiritual book (this year, The Ladder of Divine Ascent ).  

This year I decided to add a form of solitude -- going off Facebook and blogs -- which are my main connection to the USA.

Remember that fasting is not about deprivation:  it's about becoming mindful.  It's a way to awaken the heart and mind and to bring clarity to one's inner life and prayer.

See you after Easter.
 

Psalm 58:

 6 “ Is this not the fast that I have chosen:
      To loose the bonds of wickedness,
      To undo the heavy burdens,
      To let the oppressed go free,
      And that you break every yoke? 

       7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
      And that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out;
      When you see the naked, that you cover him,
      And not hide yourself from your own flesh? 

       8 Then your light shall break forth like the morning,
      Your healing shall spring forth speedily,
      And your righteousness shall go before you;
      The glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. 

       9 Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer;
      You shall cry, and He will say, ‘Here I am.’

Interesting times

Feb_25_2011_sulaimani

So much has happened here in just 5 months... so much I've seen...so much I've heard... so much on which to reflect.  

It seems like it has been that way for years now.  Every year seems more interesting than the year before... so much more to take in, to understand, to assimilate.  It's not just that as I get older the time flies faster, but the sheer flood of new thoughts, ideas, perspectives, and information seems to be getting faster, deeper, and wider.

I've always thought of life as a learning experience, but now there is too much to take in... and the rate is increasing.

Perhaps that is the point of eternity.  Rather than the old (obviously false) view of sitting on a cloud, plucking a harp, with pretty much nothing to do, what if eternity is not merely the opposite of that, but infinitely opposite?

Imagine an input stream at the speed of light... with no broadband limitations at all... infinite time to take it all in... infinite time for reflection...  a band of friends beyond our capacity to count with whom to share it all... and unlimited cups of coffee and fireplaces for conversation about it all.

How exciting would that be?

A Day in Suli

Last night we had around 35 of my students over for an end-of-semester celebration party.  They were hilarious.  Lots of fun.  But the clean up afterward took longer than the party!  So this morning we recovered by sleeping late.

Then it was off to campus to conduct part of the Academic Entrance Exam for incoming students.  Among other things, they have to demonstrate proficiency in English speaking, reading, comprehension, and writing.  My role was part of a panel that challenged their ability to go beyond a simple understanding of English, but to think and reason in that foreign language.  (I know enough Spanish to get by when I tour Spain this coming summer -- but to debate Spanish politics?  Yikes!)

Sample:

Me:         "So tell me about the article you read.  What was it about?"
Student:  "Voting in elections."
Me:         "Why should I bother voting when so many other people are voting?"
Student:  "It's your duty.  The people are responsible for whom they vote for."
Me:         "Ok, but in the last American presidential election, there was no question that Obama was going to win. 
                Why couldn't I just say, 'There's no sense in voting, Obama's  going to win whether or not I vote.  I'm behind
                at work... why don't I just go to work and forget the election.  It isn't going to matter."
Student:  "Nothing is certain.  Perhaps lots of people think like that and the results change?'
Me:         "I don't know... I think it was so one-sided that it was impossible for it have gone otherwise."
Student:  "Well, then how you feel good about yourself?  If he was a good president, you couldn't say you voted for him and
                feel good about yourself.  Or if he was a bad president, you couldn't say you voted against him and feel good about
                yourself."

Agree or disagree with the student's reasoning, it can't be easy doing that in a foreign lanquage!

After the student interviews I headed off, on foot, toward the city center toward "Newroz Telecom" to get a replacement part. (Newroz is the name of the spring equinox (March 21) celebration for Kurds, Zoroastrians and others). 

It is a beautiful, sunny day, the kind of day that makes walking outside a joy.  Flowers in bloom.  Oranges on trees.  People on the street waving hello, and offering a greeting in Kurdish, bowing their heads slight and their right hands lightly on their hearts.  "Salaam!" ("peace!")  they call.  The call for prayer floats melodiously from a nearby mosque.  It's lunchtime, so I pause at a falafel stand and ask for one.  The owner takes a huge, fresh, soft flatbread, fills it with crispy falafel, diced onions, and diced tomatoes.  Not the kind of tasteless tomatoes one usually finds in the chain supermarkets, but the succulent flavorful ones you have to grow yourself.  He wraps it deftly and I hand him 500 dinar.  About 43 cents.

I continue down the street, munching the tasty, satisfying lunch, watching the city.  Children at play.  Men at work.  Men leaving the mosque counting with their prayer beads.  (Perhaps counting the 99 names of God, or perhaps just habit.  It depends on the person.) Students heading to or from schools.  Women talking together over their chores.  A Peshmerga soldier, AK47 slung over his shoulder greets me in perfect English.  I return the greeting and ask him were he learned his English.  Like many, he had gone to England while Saddam practiced genocide on the Kurdish polulation, and like many, returned home afterward.  He asks me if I teach at the university, and smile broadly and waves, almost a salute, when we part company. 

Sunny, peaceful, friendly.  It's a great day.

Tomorrow is another story.  We've known for weeks that tomorrow is the day scheduled by many for the largest street demonstration in Sulaimani.  Taxi drivers and students tell me the same thing:  People are frustrated about jobs.  Basic services.  Electricity.  Water.  There's no telling what will happen tomorrow.  Safety isn't a problem, so long as one avoids city center and the bazaar.  So tomorrow we'll have friends over for dinner, grill some ribs, and enjoy the usual weekly gathering tomorrow night to see a film together ("Crimes and Misdemeanors.")  Some of my students will be engaged in the demonstration tomorrow, and I pray for their safety.  I look forward to tomorrow night, for the weekly get together, and dread tomorrow night, praying I won't hear bad news.