Alpha-Omega

Hope Against Darkness: A Book Review

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I was working for Pep Boy in Irving, Texas while going to college, and the radio was always on in the store. The station was usually chosen by the manager on duty, and more often than not, a country station or a soft rock station was chosen (unless, of course, the Cowboys were playing). So, more than likely, it was there, amidst the smell of motor oil and tires, that I first heard Billy Ray Cyrus and the soon-to-become annoying song “Achy, Breaky Heart.”

I remember on several occasions that the DJ (or critics on TV) would label Cyrus the “Elvis of Country Music.” That was when labels really began to annoy me.

Even though Elvis was labeled the “King of Rock and Roll,” he had 31 top ten Country hits during his career – eleven of which went to number 1 (compare that to Cyrus’ 8 top ten hits). So, upon hearing the label given to Cyrus, I’d often mutter under my breath, “No, Elvis was the Elvis of Country music!” (Full disclosure, I’m a huge Elvis fan).

And yet, that’s what we do as humans, don’t we? We label people. We put people in boxes. When we pick sides, we build walls around us to shield us from the ideas of others. We assume that we or others can only align with similar people and that each group is homogeneous. We assume that those people can only do what we think (read know) they can do. We become so attuned to “our group” that we can’t see our own hypocrisy or the value of another group’s ideals.


It was personally painful at times (in a good way), but one of the things I most appreciated about Richard Rohr’s book, Hope Against Darkness: The Transforming Vision of Saint Francis in an Age of Anxiety, was the fact that he clearly showed how neither left nor right, liberal or conservative has all the answers or is completely wrong. He showed how each extreme is often hypocritical.

As one who tends to more align myself with the left / liberal viewpoints, I often felt Rohr jabbing at me, personally. As much as I wanted to stand up and defend my tribe and my ideals, more often than not, I could see that he was right.

Even though the book was published in 2001, it speaks so clearly to the greatly divided world of religion and politics that seems so prevalent today in 2014 (of course, it was likely that way then, too, but my eyes were not opened to it – a blessing and a curse of social media). His call, echoing that of Jesus and St. Francis, is to drop the tribalism – to quit with trying to decide who is in and who is out.

I have said at times through the years as I have led various studies that we in the mainline church need to become very black and white about one thing, and only thing only: the world is full of gray. My theory has been that real transformation can come by being clear from the get-go that there are few if any absolutes. I continue to think that is valid, but this book helped me to see a slightly different perspective.

Rohr writes on page 163:

Spiritual transformation is often thought of as movement from darkness to light. In once sense that is true, but in another sense it is totally false. We forget that darkness is always present alongside the light. Pure light blinds, only the mixture of darkness and light allows us to see. Shadows are required for our seeing.

Here, we are reminded that light and darkness is not an either / or but a both / and. And throughout the book, he reminds us that the dark times of life are not bad (unless we choose to stay there); rather, these are a new telling of the sad yet hopeful story of the cross. They are the reminder of “the lamb who is simultaneously slaughtered and standing.” (pg. 23)

So, as I’ve reflected on these writings, I began to think about “white” and “black” in terms of science. “In the visible spectrum, white reflects light and is a presence of all colors, but black absorbs light and is an absence of color.” (from Wikipedia, June 28, 2014) To put it another way, white is the presence of all colors, but black absorbs light that contains all colors (you can even make black paint by mixing all colors). Interestingly, it is through the cuts made in the glass of a prism or the results of rain that show the full spectrum of color that is always present. And as Rohr reiterates poignantly throughout the book, it is the often painful cuts and rains of life that truly bring transformation and new life. And though these are painful, they are not bad but a place to experience grace.

Now, I think that the church needs to be black and white about the fact that there is a full spectrum of colors (and ideas), and it’s the full spectrum that brings real beauty, not the plainness of black OR white or the drabness of grays. To claim that all the world should be only blue OR red OR yellow is to deny the fullness of God’s creation. This should serve as a reminder for us to keep going back to examine ourselves and determine whether we are, in fact, promoting only one color of the spectrum. In that examination, we must ask, “What can we learn from another color of the spectrum?”

If I have one complaint with this book, it has to do with the subtitle: The Transforming Vision of Saint Francis in an Age of Anxiety. I have recently become interested in Saint Francis of Assisi thanks to the inspiring example of Pope Francis and thanks to reading Matthew Fox’s book, Letters to Pope Francis. Plus, I’ve relatively recently become a fan of Richard Rohr. Therefore, I thought, this will be a great book! I can learn more from and about each. However, other than an occasional mention here and there and one chapter (Chapter 7: Francis of Assisi: Showing the Way Toward Reconstruction), I didn’t get much about St. Francis. I’m sure that many of his ideals and theology guide and inform the book, but I’m no more clear about what comes directly from him.

And yet, I see that I’m falling into the old trap of labeling. This book was for me a positive challenge to and for my life of faith, no matter the label on the front. Thus, I hope you’ll consider reading this book.

Fr. Richard Rohr is a globally recognized ecumenical teacher bearing witness to the universal awakening within Christian mysticism and the Perennial Tradition. He is a Franciscan priest of the New Mexico Province and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation (CAC) in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Fr. Richard’s teaching is grounded in the Franciscan alternative orthodoxy—practices of contemplation and lived kenosis(self-emptying), expressing itself in radical compassion, particularly for the socially marginalized.

Fr. Richard is the author of numerous books, including Everything Belongs, Adam’s Return, The Naked Now, Breathing Under Water, Falling Upward, and Immortal Diamond, as well as the devotionals, Yes, And… and  Preparing for Christmas.

CAC is home to the Rohr Institute where Fr. Richard is academic Dean of the Living School for Action and Contemplation. Drawing upon Christianity’s place within the Perennial Tradition, the mission of the Rohr Institute is to produce compassionate and powerfully learned individuals who will work for positive change in the world based on awareness of our common union with God and all beings.

Growing Into New Life

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When I was about 4, we had just moved “out to the country,” and my parents wanted to grow a garden. The problem was that the soil there at our “new” house was hard white clay that even grass and weeds had a hard time growing in, so my parents went to work to make it more fertile.

First, Dad had the area plowed, and then he tilled it by hand. Then we took our food scraps, week after week, to spread out on the garden-to-be. Man, did it stink! I hated when it was my turn to take the scraps out, wishing I had a 10-foot pole to hold the bucket on far away from my nose! On top of that, we spread the ashes from our fireplace all over the garden, too.

We did this for years, but it made this less than fertile ground a place of abundant growth – not to mention tasty veggies! The once hard, white clay became rich, brown soil. Out of death (non-fertile ground & food scraps) and ashes, new life burst forth.

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Lent is a time of preparation for new life on Easter, so a Lenten practice I encouraged the families of the church I serve to take part in was to plant something together and care for it with water and sunlight (noting that they didn’t have to use the stinky food scraps unless they  just wanted to). “Together,” I encouraged, “you can watch new life burst forth from the dead ground (or dirt in a pot) in anticipation of the new life of Christ that burst forth from the grave on Easter.”

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Honestly, even though I encouraged our church families to take part in this activity, we did not do this this year.  However, as I reflected on what these families might have been experiencing, I remembered that my son, Micah, and I did this last year.

I remember well the excitement Micah had because he had been given a “kit” that included dirt, a cup, and a lima bean.  We planted it, and EVERY morning, one of the first things Micah wanted to look at was to see if his plant had grown yet.  We kept it watered and made sure it got lots of sunlight.  It seemed to take forever, but eventually something green began to protrude from the lifeless dirt making Micah all the more excited.

It didn’t take long before it began to have more form, and though it had been years since I’d seen a lima bean plant, I couldn’t help but think that this did not at all look like a lima bean plant.  The more it grew the more clear it became that it was not a lima bean but a stalk of Johnson grass – a prominent weed in Texas (maybe in Maryland / DC, too).  Fueled by Micah’s excitement, though, we continued to check on it, water it, and make sure it got plenty of sunlight.  Before you knew it, we had a 1 1/2 foot tall Johnson grass plant.  The lima bean never grew.

As I think about the life of faith, it takes a lot of practice and effort to make it fruitful, and how often are we disappointed that what grows is not what we expected or wanted?I was certainly disappointed as I wanted Micah to get a chance to eat lima beans that he had grown himself like I did as a child (even though I really disliked lima beans).  And yet, Micah was not disappointed at all.  He had grown something.  Maybe that is all that was needed.

I wonder what that tells us about having a child-like faith.

I wonder what that tells us about giving up something for Lent.

I wonder what that tells us about resurrection and new life.

Letters to Pope Francis – A Book Review

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Imagine a “saw-horse” oil well pump looking first to the ground, then to the sky, and back again – over and over. That’s about how Dr. Machado looked as she lectured to us on the History of Christianity. She seemed to always look first at her notes, then to the same spot on the ceiling, and back to her notes – over and over.

Her speed of lecturing was the fastest I have ever experienced, and there was no way I could keep up with writing notes. So, in a world that was working on Pentium 3 computers with the Pentium 4 about to be launched, I resurrected on old 386 laptop that someone had given me years before. It was so slow it wouldn’t even run Windows 3.1, so I took notes in WordPerfect 5.1 for DOS. I could almost keep up then.

Yet, occasionally, she’d pause long enough to step from behind the podium to go into more detail (or maybe even give some additional off-the-cuff insights not in her notes). One day, though I don’t remember the exact context, I remember her pausing to say something along the lines of, “Just because someone was labeled a heretic doesn’t mean they were wrong. It just means they lost.”

That was mind blowing to a guy like me who just a few months before used to listen to the likes of Chuck Swindoll, J. Vernon McGee, R.C. Sproul, and even James Dobson on the way home from work. They didn’t necessarily use the word “heretic” much, but the thought was definitely there. Despite where I had been, those two sentences opened me to be able to “hear” folks who were considered heretics – who may have thought differently than me or were not necessarily traditional or orthodox in their thinking. It helped make some of that “required” seminary reading seem more worthwhile.

Eventually, I found myself leading a Living the Questions study called Saving Jesus where I was introduced to Rev. Dr. Matthew Fox, a former Roman Catholic priest of the Dominican Order who was silenced by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (later elected Pope Benedict XVI) in 1989. When one of the members of that class recommended that we study one of his books, Original Blessing, I didn’t bat an eye. I was like, “Sure. Sounds like a great idea!” That book was a bit wordy, but it was extremely thought-provoking and inspiring in giving me a new vocabulary for understanding life, faith, and God – and the relation of all three! And it was certainly not orthodox or traditional.

I found Letters to Pope Francis to be similarly thought-provoking and inspiring. Much less wordy than Original Blessing, it was much easier to read (though obviously not going nearly as in depth but also having a different purpose).

On one level, I felt a bit disconnected from the book, but that mainly stems from the fact that I’m a United Methodist Protestant Christian, and much of the book (as should be expected) deals directly with the Roman Catholic Church (RCC), examples being the lack of ordination of women and married priest as well as sexual misconduct of priests and the associated cover ups. These parts were somewhat interesting but had little bearing on me personally.

Where I felt most connected, though, was when Fox helped show similarities between the time of St. Francis of Assisi and our own and how Francis’ approach to his time can inform our approach to our own time. I came away wanting to study Francis more in depth as I learned much more than I knew before from this small volume.

Not only did Fox draw parallels between Francis’ time an ours, he also encouraged Pope Francis to live up to his namesake by employing some of the methods St. Francis used. In doing so, he was certainly critical of the RCC and the two previous Popes (not to mention the lack of effort to enact the reforms of Vatican II), but by and large, he was affirming of Pope Francis in what he has already done and said in his short tenure as Pope as well as his ministry prior to his election. Yet, Fox was not just handing out “attaboys.” He was encouraging the Pope to continue the work he has been doing and to go even further. Occasionally, he also gave some constructive criticism, but he did so gently (yet firmly) without being overly negative to the current Pope (a favor not afforded to the previous two Popes).

Many books like this speak of platitudes – high ideals – but wind up being simply rants with no plan of action. Thankfully, the book provides the beginning of what I think are practical steps for reforming the RCC and even Christianity as a whole. Drawing on his own experience of teaching and seeing Christianity being lived out in smaller communities, Fox offers real world examples of how things can be different. I really appreciate the fact that he allows most of Chapter 6, “Small Communities,” to be quotes (obviously chosen by Fox) from various small group participants giving insight into how they have seen grassroots reform taking place and working.

As one who is familiar with Fox might expect, his concern for social rights (especially those of the poor, women, and LGBTQ folk), social justice, lived faith vs. stale doctrine, and ecology shined through brightly. Likewise, his love of the laity and his desire to empower them for ministry (even in living out their daily jobs) was a beacon of hope. He rightly expands the call of the ministry of the laity beyond the typical understanding of “church work” to be the work people perform as “Doctors and business people, artists and teachers, therapists and social workers, carpenters and car repair specialists, farmers and journalists, inventors and policemen and women, nurses and builders and engineers and bankers. . . .” (pgs. 85-86) All of these add to the overall support of society and should be affirmed even if the task is not explicitly “Christian” – at least in a traditional understanding.

So, I heartily recommend this book to Pope Francis and all Christians, whether Catholic or Protestant. I also let Rev. Dr. Fox have the last word (including a quote from Pope Francis himself):

With all my heart I hope your papacy is one of compassion in it fullest and richest meanings and an example to other institutions of our world that compassion matters. And justice matters. You have said so yourself in the following words: “In the fact of grave forms of social and economic injustice, of political corruption, of ethnic cleansing, of demographic extermination, and destruction of the environment . . . surges the need for a radical personal and social renewal that is capable of ensuring justice, solidarity, and transparency.” pg. 41

About the Author:
Matthew Fox holds a Ph.D. in spirituality, summa cum laude, from the Institut Catholique de Paris. His long career of teaching ministry includes founding the Institute of Culture and Creation Spirituality, which was shut down after 19 years under pressure from then-Cardinal Ratzinger whose pursuit of him and other theologians led to Fox’s “silencing” in 1989 and ultimate expulsion from the Dominican Order in 1993. He started the University of Creation Spirituality and is author of 31 books on spirituality and culture including Original Blessing, The Coming of the Cosmic Christ, A Spirituality Named Compassion, and Hildegard of Bingen: A Saint for Our Times.

He has been active as a priest in the Anglican community since being expelled from the Dominicans, teaching and working with youth to create a more just and compassionate world—one in keeping with the spirit of St. Francis. Fox is visiting scholar with the Academy for the Love of Learning in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Learn more at www.matthewfox.org.

 

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through theSpeakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

Employed & Gifted to Unite – A Sermon

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I was blessed with the opportunity to wrap up a sermon series entitled Employed by the Spirit on spiritual gifts at Capitol Hill United Methodist Church on Sunday, June 23, 2013. 

You can listen to it here:

Right-mouse-click here to download audio.

This sermon was inspired by:

Ephesians 4:1-7, 11-16
1I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. 4There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, 5one Lord, one faith, one baptism, 6one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. 7But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ’s gift.

11The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, 12to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, 13until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ. 14We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. 15But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, 16from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love. (NRSV)

Answering the Contemplative Call & Earthy Mysticism – Two Book Reviews

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Lists:

Sets of instructions. How-to steps.These are really helpful if you are putting together a book shelf or bicycle or even if you are trying to fix a problem on a Linux operating system like Xubuntu.

I’ve always been a bit skeptical about such things as they relate to personal or spiritual things. They tend to imply, “If you’ll only follow these X number of steps, you’ll be okay – you’ll succeed.”

I just can’t believe such things are that simple, that cut and dried, that black and white. And yet, I wonder how much money is spent each year by people trying to find the list that will answer their questions and fix their problems. I bet it’s millions of dollars.
 One Book:

I received a copy of Carl McColman’s Answering the Contemplative Call: First Steps on the Mystical Path to review from the good folk over at The Speakeasy.  I requested a copy as I’ve been interested in reading some different authors with different perspectives. Plus, more importantly, mysticism is something that has become of interest to me in recent years, partly because “mystical language” and the seeking by so many of the “mystical path” have become prevalent.

I thoroughly enjoyed Part One of the book, entitled “Recognizing the Call.”  In it, McColman does a good and interesting job of defining the mystery of contemplation or mysticism while leaving the definition open enough for others to have mystical experiences that are a bit different.  He does this by giving us glimpses into the different contemplative lives of people such as Bernard of Clairvaux, Evelyn Underhill, Teresa of Avila, Richard Rohr, and Meister Eckhart, just to name a few.  He even spends one chapter, “Three Tales of Awakening,” looking at Thomas Aquinas, Julian of Norwich, and Thomas Merton.

Part Two, “Preparing for the Journey,” is a focus on preparing for the “adventure of falling ever more deeply in love with the Divine” (pg. 43).  For me, this section was still somewhat enjoyable, but he over used and over extended the metaphor of preparing for a trip to a distant place to the point of being too “whimsical” (his word from the “Introduction”) or cheesy (my word).

The deeper I got into Part Three, “Embarking on the Journey,” the less connected with the book I became.  He went to great pains to say that everybody will do things differently, which I appreciate.  But then he’d counter with something like, “But you really ought to follow these steps.”  For instance, McColman did a good job in the chapter on “Befriending Silence” to make clear that we can never fully find silence.  Even in nature, we’ll hear the sounds of nature.  As much as we try to silence our minds, our minds are likely to keep chattering except for an occasional period (possibly very brief period) of silence.  Then in the chapter, “Praying the Silence,” he countered with a list (which I have been upfront about not liking):

  • Set aside a time of uninterrupted silence;
  • Have good posture;
  • Have good breathing;
  • Focus on an object and / or repeat a phrase or a word.

I know this is helpful for some people. I have even led folks through some of these steps as I know it works for them. My frustration is that it feels like he implies if I’m to respond to the call of contemplative prayer, I need to do this. This has not worked for me. I’ve tried it again and again and I find it far from nurturing for me (at least in this time of my life).
The Other Book:

All the while that I read McColman’s book – both the parts that I loved and the parts I liked less – one book kept coming to mind:  Tex Sample’s Earthy Mysticism.  This is a book I purchased on my own a few years ago to use as part of a faith study with a group called The Society of St. Simeon at First United Methodist Church in Wichita Falls, Texas (as an aside, part of our opening liturgy for each session was very similar to McColman’s steps listed above).

In all honesty, Tex’s understanding of mysticism has become my understanding for me.  The ways he has had mystical moments are like mine.  Thus, it is no wonder his book kept coming to mind.  For instance, he writes in the Introduction entitled “A God Who Will Goose You:”

I am not helped much by conventional approaches to spirituality. I find it almost impossible to do “devotions.” Daily Bible study in the sense of devoting twenty to thirty minutes a day never worked for me. I cannot get around to scheduled times for prayer on my knees with head bowed. I find labyrinths and prayer beads boring. I am ever and again distracted in silent meditation. I simply cannot sustain a spirituality based in such things. Yet, Bible study, prayer, worship, and Eucharist form the heart of my practices, but it is a different spirituality (pg. xiv).

What I love about his book after the introduction is that they are essentially just stories from his life in which he has in some way been surprised by God who arrived “in the ordinary and the seamy.”  They are “about mystical moments when clearly the only thing that finally matters is this God who will never leave us alone, especially in the ordinary and angular places of life” (pg. xv).

Through stories like the death of his son, the conniving of an insurance salesman, participating in a march on Selma, and comforting his vomiting wife, Tex creates opportunities for us to see God in our own painful, mean, inspiring, and mundane events.  And for me, one of the beauties in the ways he tells these stories is that he seldom says, “Well, this is how I experienced God.”  More often than not, he kind of leaves it hanging (like some of Jesus’ parables) for us to wrestle with where God was “goosing” Tex in the story and where God might be goosing us.  We are left with deciding what is “mystical.”  We aren’t told what is and is not or whether we arrived at it in a “correct” way.
Contemplatives:

I experienced a real epiphany in McColman’s book.  I noticed that the word, “contemplative” (aka mystic), is based on the word, “contemplate.”  Contemplate.  To know God more fully, we must contemplate the mystery of God.  We must consider again and again this God that will goose us.

I can’t say for sure, but I’d bet that Tex Sample didn’t always know that the stories he told were mystical in the moment.  That has certainly been my experience.  It has been most often in retrospect that I more fully see the action of God.  It is in contemplation that God becomes more apparent.
 Both Books:

McColman’s book has much to offer, especially for people who are predisposed to living out their spiritual life in a more disciplined way.  It provides many insights for anybody, but the last part was less edifying for me.

No matter your predisposition, I thoroughly recommend Sample’s book.  It may open you to new ways of knowing the mystical life.
About the Authors:

Carl McColman is a writer, speaker, retreat leader and spiritual director. His blog, www.anamchara.com, celebrates the mystical and contemplative dimensions of both Christian and world spirituality. He is a regular contributor to Patheos, and his writing has also appeared in the Huffington Post.

He studied Christian meditation at the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, and received additional training in the art of spiritual direction from the Institute for Pastoral Studies in Atlanta. He is a professed member of the Lay Cistercians of Our Lady of the Holy Spirit, a community under the spiritual guidance of the Trappist monks of the Monastery of the Holy Spirit. As a Lay Cistercian, his spirituality is ordered toward what Walter Hilton called “the mixed life” — devoted to the practice of contemplation within the context of marriage and family, outside of a traditional monastery.

Carl lives near Stone Mountain, Georgia, with his wife and stepdaughter.

Tex Sample is the Robert B. And Kathleen Rogers Professor Emeritus of Church and Society at The Saint Paul School of Theology where he taught for 32 years. He holds a B.A. degree from Millsaps College, an M.Div. from the Boston University School of Theology, a Ph.D. from the Boston University Graduate School. and a D.D. from Coe College.

Sample is a freelance lecturer and speaker in North America and overseas and has been active throughout his career in both the church and in the community. While living in Arizona, he was heavily involved in the Valley Interfaith Project, a broad-based organizing effort associated with the Industrial Areas Foundation. He was also active in the Arizona Interfaith Movement, an interfaith group that includes 25 different faith traditions.

Sample is married to Peggy Sanford Sample, who is a watermedia artist and a musician. They have three children, one of whom is deceased.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received Answering the Contemplative Call free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR,Part 255.

A Prayer for Resurrection

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O God, we read in the Bible how You never change,
and yet we look around our lives,
and it seems that ALL we see is change.
We are thankful O God that you are the one constant
in our lives that can keep us on track
against so much that would throw us off track.

O God, we all experience change.
Some change is good:
We get a new job or a new task that we enjoy; or
We meet that special someone; or
We have a child; or
We get a new house; or
We get healthy.

Of course, some change is bad:
We lose a job; or
Our task at work changes to something we don’t enjoy; or
We lose a loved one; or
We lose our home; or
We lose our health.

And yet, whether change is good or bad,
it can still be difficult as life is no longer the same.
Thus, we are in need of new life with hope.
We need resurrection.
We need You, O Lord, to breathe the Spirit of Life
into us again to help us to cope.
We need Your grace that can,
if we are willing,
lift us up to face the challenges of life.
All thing, O God, are possible with You,
and in that promise, we take comfort.

O God, we pray such a resurrection of new life
for those who are in the hospital.
May they experience new life in their health.

We also pray for such a resurrection of new life
for those who have lost love ones.
May they experience new life
through the process of their grieving.

O God, it is in Your grace that we pray.
Amen.