A Response from Silence

I believe Joe Miller has done an excellent job showing a disease in American culture. Indeed, there isn’t much for me to add. However, I will quickly extend a related examination of our paradoxical human nature. That is, a look at our original sin and our original blessing. But first, a quick look at the culture.

Consumerism takes many shapes and forms. The need to have individual technology is rooted in the need to always be entertained. The need to be entertained is rooted in a feeling of lack. As so many mystics in many traditions have posited, we try to use things and ideas to fill a God-sized hole, but in the end the only way to fill this hole is with God. We won’t be whole until we fill that hole with God. God doesn’t make us with this need for him because he is a needy child who can’t dream of having people be independent of himself. Rather, all love comes from God and an all loving being who designs creatures for love can’t give them this love apart from himself.

Original sin is our inability to automatically feel, remember, and know this love. The job of religion, and spiritual practices is to help remind people of the presence of God in their lives which is always there! This is our original blessing—God’s desire to live in communion and harmony with his creation—is what Richard Rohr has tried to share.

Rohr has noted that Meister Eckhart (And I would add the Jesuit’s founder St. Ignatius) is the mystic for those who are busy. It is alright to have a busy life with busy technology. The point is that technology should act as a tool for one to help share love to a world which needs to be reminded of its special place in God’s present in-breaking kingdom. 

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Inspired by Groupthink's recent material on spirituality and mysticism, our prayer for the week comes from philosopher, scientist, and priest Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ (1881-1885).

"Glorious Lord Christ: the divine influence secretly diffused and active in the depths of matter, and the dazzling centre where all the innumerable fibres of the manifold meet; power as implacable as the world and as warm as life; you whose forehead is of the whiteness of snow, whose eyes are of fire, and whose feet are brighter than molten gold; you whose hands imprison the stars; you who are the first and the last, the living and the dead and the risen again; you who gather into your exuberant unity every mode of existence; it is you to whom my being cries out with a desire as vast the universe, 'In truth you are my Lord and my God'."

--(The Oxford Book of Prayer, 6) 

Hearing Christ's Voice: A Response to Reed Dressler

In our Wednesday Groupthink essay, my friend Reed Dressler takes on an important contemporary topic, one that is close to my own heart and that is difficult to talk about at our denominational conferences and church coffee hours: hearing the voice of God. Dressler points to the importance of remembering God’s continuing presence in God’s creation, a remembering which breaks down traditional barriers between the sacred and the profane.

I sincerely appreciate Dressler’s writing on the topic, but I am often nervous about discussing contemplative theology. Such discussions can quickly become overly abstract and self-absorbed, focusing (no less than evangelical pop theology) on the individual’s relationship with God to the neglect of a larger narrative of God’s action in history.

The best way, I think, to avoid the problem of atomizing individualism in the spiritual life is to hold the truths Dressler points us to in tandem with a spirituality that centers our union with the crucified and risen Christ within the community of his Body, the Church. Private contemplative practice will lead us astray if we pursue it overzealously and without equal commitment to our “common prayer” and service with others who commit their lives to the Way.

Authentic spirituality, for Christians, should always begin with the One we consider the ultimate expression of God’s being and character, “the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation” (Colossians 1:15).

I don’t say this to denigrate anyone else’s religious traditions or to imply that only Christians can pray or meditate or know God. I do believe, though, that as people of faith, we best honor the traditions of others by living faithfully the best of our own, not by appropriating and generalizing until nothing is left but abstracted “spiritual but not religious” feelings of goodwill. Poet Christian Wiman likes to quote George Lindbeck: “You can no more be religious in general than you can speak language in general.” In Wiman’s own words, “the only way to deepen your knowledge and experience of ultimate divinity is to deepen your knowledge and experience of the all too temporal symbols and language of a particular religion” (My Bright Abyss 141). For Christians, those symbols and that language must center on Jesus Christ.

Many of the early Church Mothers and Fathers spoke at great length about Christ as Logos, the Word by which God made and sustains the world, the divine creative principle of the universe. The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins had just this conception of Christ in mind when he formulated his vision of every molecule of creation giving praise to God simply by being what it is truly is:

"As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came. 

"I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is —
Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces"

For Hopkins, and for many of us who see the beauty of his vision even if we have trouble with his metaphysics, it is not only the First Person of the Trinity we experience in creation and providence, but Jesus Christ as well.

I used to dismiss this talk of the Logos as so much overbaked Platonism, an aberration of the original concrete and social vision of Jesus.

It is true that, when overemphasized, a theology centered on the Logos can be used as a way of avoiding the most difficult teachings of Jesus found in the gospels.

However, a healthy understanding of the Logos in creation helps us to move beyond abstraction and see Christ’s face in this action, this experience, this experience this person. We need the actions, experiences, and presence of others to understand fully what Christ is doing among us. I think that is what our Orthodox siblings mean they greet each other, not with the familiar “The Lord be with you” “And also with you” found in my church, but with “Christ is in our midst” “He is and shall be.”

Jesus chose a meal with his friends, not solitary meditation,
as the main way we are to remember him.

One great way to begin cultivating a Christ-centered and communal spirituality is by reflecting on the sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist. Baptism, and the remembrance of our baptism, is a way of partaking in Christ's death and resurrection. In baptism, we are initiated into Christ's new creation, the world as God intended us to see it, with Christ the Logos visible, if only faintly, in all things. Whether we were baptized as infants or as adults, it remains true that none of us baptized himself or herself. It's a gift that only comes to us through the actions of other Christians.

Similarly, in the Eucharist, we remember our place as "living members of [God's] Son, our Savior Jesus Christ," in the words of the Book of Common Prayer. Here, St. Augustine says it best:

"If you are the body of Christ and his members, your mystery has been placed on the Lord's table, you receive your mystery. You reply 'Amen' to that which you are, and by replying you consent. For you hear 'The body of Christ,' and you reply 'Amen.' Be a member of the body of Christ so that your 'Amen' may be true. ... Be what you see, and receive what you are" (Sermon 272).

Spirituality is, as evangelicals are fond of saying, about one's "relationship with God," but it is also about our relationship with God. It's about who we are discovering Christ to be and ourselves to be in Christ as we gather in his name.

Christ is in our midst. He is and shall be. Amen.

Hearing God's Voice

God speaks to us far more than we realize.

How can I make this assertion when no matter where we look we don’t ‘see’ or ‘hear’ God anywhere? Clearly I have to answer this question before I can even begin to explain how we can hear God. Philosophy has a name for this problem. It is known as the problem of Divine Hiddenness and it has certainly kept many people awake at night. 

I think God wanted it to be a ‘problem’. He honestly wants it to be hard to see him, at least initially. Philosophy’s answer goes something like this: ‘If humans could see God they would always do the right thing. However, they would do the right thing for the wrong reason which is out of fear of punishment. Therefore, humans under this view must freely choose to do what is right and this requires God not be entirely obvious to our senses.’ 

This is not a bad answer. Indeed it gets very close to the heart of the matter. Yet, there is an even deeper truth. The truth that only the sufferers and mystical seekers dare to know. God is not hidden. Rather he screams his presence in silence, and glows brightly in physical shadows. He resides in the depths of darkness and lives at the heights of light. 

The Psalmist practically laments his inability to escape God’s presence in Psalms 139. This Psalmist (who may have been David) realized something which few have internalized deep down beyond intellectual assent. God really is everywhere, and everything expresses his glory and presence. Humanity’s ‘original sin’ was losing the ability to see and hear him in everything. God speaks through his creation, but many times in ways we either ignore or refuse to accept. The path of prayer could be said to be the path of relearning this truth.
 

Over the centuries, Christians and Jews have found solace
in the story of the prophet Elijah, who met God not in the
wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in a "still, small voice."

This relearning may not always be easy and can even require one to “pick up their cross” and follow Jesus’ example of accepting suffering. So how do we hear God’s voice? Well there are plenty of examples in the Bible that show God loudly announcing his presence. The God of the Old Testament is definitely into flare and pyrotechnics! Bushes that don’t burn, axes that float, cities that are destroyed, loud swirling whirl winds! Yet, in our own lives very few of us can claim to have experienced such magnificent spectacles. Indeed, when we read the Bible, we find ourselves begging God to give something to prove he is out there. And it seems that for the mass majority of us, God is nowhere to be found. 

The New Testament has less of the flare but still holds enough miracles to keep our attention. Jesus is healing people left and right. Why do we see so few of those? The answer is twofold. We are too closed off to see them and we forgot who to imitate. The popular and perceptive New Testament scholar N.T. Wright gives us an answer to the first. He explains in his book Surprised by Scripture that our understanding of miracles has been influenced by a pagan understanding of God created by the philosopher Epicurus. 

Epicurus claimed that no gods exist and that even if there are some they are certainly far removed from human experiences. Wright believes that this corrupted all of modern philosophy. He also asserts that it has confused us on the nature of miracles. Currently many people believe miracles are moments of radical insertions of God’s power. In this view God does not interact with the world until he wants a miracle. Immediately after the miracle, he is gone again. This, Wright believes, misses the Christian understanding of what a miracle is. Miracles are God’s working in the world and helping to shape this world. It is not something which simply happens randomly and then is gone. In a sense God is always working in the world so miracles are occurring all the time! 

This is a truth which many mystics have come to learn. God created this world, and he isn’t going to leave it alone. Richard Rohr, a modern Catholic mystic, sums up this point beautifully when he states that there is no sacred versus profane. Rather, one could say that there is only realization and ignorance. The Christian process of becoming holy, sometimes known as sanctification, isn’t about becoming better at doing the right things. It is about realizing the amazing and wonderful truth that God is always loving and welcoming. Once we start on this path of becoming more and more aware of God’s constant presence in the world and all loving nature, we automatically come to have deeper and deeper trust and faith in his will and find ourselves doing the right thing even in spite of themselves. 

So what does all of this have to do with hearing God? Once you realize these truths, the next step is to stop asking God to speak and start listening. One of the best ways to do this is to go into solitude. Quiet the mind which is constantly forgetting God’s goodness anyway. Enter into a deep peace. 

After this point I can’t say how God will speak to you. The Bible is ripe with different ways God gives his message. But before you can hear God over your own egotistical thoughts follow the Bibles advice in the Psalms. “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10) and enter into “the Peace which surpasses all understanding.” (Philippians 4:7). 

In this state of remembrance and peace you will be more likely to actually hear what it is that God has been saying to you. You might hear the advice God has been trying to get through to you all along. Then you too will know.

God speaks to us far more than we ever realize.

What Do These Mystics Know?: A Review of Richard Rohr

When I discovered one of Richard Rohr’s newest book What the Mystics Know at Barnes and Noble, I was ecstatic! I jokingly asked my girlfriend what she thought the mystics know, to which she sarcastically responded, "Not much.”

“Not much.” If you just take a look at all the books Rohr has written, it would be easy to declare such a comment as absurd, yet it has more truth than I think she even realized.

"Not much.” While contemplating what to say about his book, I looked over at my dog and asked her what the mystics knew. Obviously she just stared up at me without comment.

While reading the book, I was shocked by how much Rohr has improved in his ability to communicate effectively and elaborate his message. I have read many of his books and loved each one, yet this book is unique in its ability to make sense of the contemplative traditions Rohr has spent his career exploring and popularizing. He constructs short but informative sections which can be read in no time at all. If you want a deeply reflective devotional, this is the book for you.

I had trouble to believe I could love this book even more than Rohr's last offering, Eager to Love, which is about the transformative love of St. Francis. I truly did not believe he could top that captivating work, yet here I am reflecting on the new masterpiece in front of me.

One of the most powerful lines from the book is found in the heading “Beyond an all-or-nothing outlook,” where he states:

More than with any other personality trait in my life, all-or-nothing thinking has caused me to make huge mistakes and bad judgments, hurt people and myself, withhold love, and misinterpret situations.

Let this sink in for a second. True mysticism does not give one more conceptual certainty. Indeed, this type of extreme certainty can lead to less love, which is not what Christians should want. Rather, mysticism requires a level of openness. 

Really, what Rohr and other mystics have known for thousands of years is just now being discovered in academia. This is shown through the recent emphasis on epistemological humility--the possibility that one could be wrong and should act as such. This does not mean one becomes less certain of God or his or her religious doctrines. Instead, these doctrines begin to take on new life at a deeper level, a level beyond the conceptual, which opens up the heart to what God has to offer.

Stop believing so much and start knowing! Knowing is not always easy. It will always be easier for the self-serving nature to create beliefs it can defend rather than go through trusting God’s judgments. Nothing is harder than letting go, yet nothing is as freeing.

When my dog looked at me I felt a flood of love. She usually brings this to my life. She is extremely loyal and follows me around everywhere. She doesn’t have judgments on who I am. She accepts reality as it is and seems to be at peace with the world. This is something I often wish I could achieve. This is the peace I think the apostle Paul refers to when he speaks of "the peace which transcends all understanding." Maybe it explains why so many mystics love nature. The animals in this world never forgot who they were in God. 

So what does my dog know which the mystics strive for? “Not much.”