Ecclesiastes wrestles with some major existential questions. He asks, What good is it that I spend my life accumulating goods, when I can’t take them with me? When I am forced to leave them to undeserving hands? How is this fair?
His infinite desire is colliding with his finite flesh, and this is causing despair. His conclusion? “…All things are vanity!”
People think of the bible as a book. But really it is a library with books assembled over hundreds of years chronicling what is called Revelation History, which is God’s self-disclosure to humanity over time.
But in this process, God is revealing more than His identity: He is also revealing OUR identity. God is teaching us who WE are as well. Understanding who God is profoundly impacts the way we understand ourselves.
So in this historical unfolding, Ecclesiastes is like a primitive snapshot of the spiritual landscape. Before you can appreciate the answers, you must grasp the basic human problems.
Then the lectionary brings Jesus and Paul into the dialogue, and what they have to say is nothing short of revolutionary. Jesus offers a parable that speaks to the heart of the matter: that of the rich man who toils to fill his barn with wealth for years to come, and is ready to congratulate himself on a job well done. God says to him; “You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong? Thus it will be for all who store up treasure for themselves but are not rich in what matters to God.” (Lk 12:13-21)
What Jesus is doing is expanding the horizon. No longer does the struggle for meaning and happiness occur in a flat, what-you-see-is-what-you-get universe. Jesus reveals the broader context, and that is our relationship with God.
That is the game-changer. With this revealed, our meaning does not depend on holding onto that which is passing, which is intrinsically disappointing. Rather, we are called from our finitude to partake in the realm of the eternal; to participate in the life of God in charity, in hope and in love.
And this is why Paul’s language is so dramatic. He literally speaks of a death and rebirth in this new life in Christ. It is a life where the old divisions and tawdry habits have dwindled away, where “Christ is all and in all”. (Col 3:11)
We all know that as nice as this sounds, in reality it’s a lot of hard work. Sometimes the spiritual life feels like an eat-your-vegetables grind. Sometimes it feels forced or down-right unnatural. But let’s not forget what sin is; it’s the distortion of our true nature. If the goodness the bible calls us to feels unnatural, it’s not because it calls us to a place we do not belong—it’s because the veil of sin is so thick that we have lost our way, and lost a sense of who we really are.
On a deeper level, what feels like painful work today is really a healing, that in the end will feel more like a loving homecoming to our true nature.
But for now we remain pilgrims on a journey. It may at times feel arduous, but it’s the only one that truly matters.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
HUMILITY AND FREEDOM
Oscar Wilde once said that when the gods wanted to punish us, they fulfilled our wishes.
That’s another way of saying that our own ego, our own desire, when left unchecked is destructive. It often stands in the way of God’s purpose for us.
So the religious path is one of surrender; of letting go of our attachments, our fears, our comforts, and trusting our life to God. ‘Not my will, but Thy will,’ says the Psalmist.
And this is echoed by Paul when he pleads, “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.” And this is something quite profound. Paul has crossed that inner threshold having died to his selfishness, and has become alive in a more profound way. His entire being and reason for existence has become one with the Creator.
This sounds like a luxury, perhaps something for those who have the time for ‘self-actualization.’ Today we may think of those who have the time, money and desire to attend a personal growth seminar or yoga retreat. But certainly NOT US—we have kids and bills to pay…
But think again. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus not only commissions the 12 disciples, but here he sends out 72 others to go out and herald the Kingdom of God. Jesus did not come down to do it all himself. He certainly did the heavy lifting, but he calls human beings like us to join him in the great work of redemption. That includes all of us. And this is the amazing thing; that God would place such trust in humanity, cooperating with us in something so important.
And when the 72 returned to Jesus, they were in awe of how even the evil spirits were under their authority. Jesus however rebuked them saying; “Do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice because your names are written in heaven.”
It’s a reality check for them. Jesus is saying, Yes, you are doing God’s work… but don’t let it get to your head. And that’s the truth. It’s a wonderful thing to be on the side of truth and life, but it is too heavy a load and we can easily stumble. The human mind can only stand so much reality.
So that is why we are called to humility. Humility keeps us turning it over to God. It keeps our spirit at once free yet grounded, and ready to respond in service and in love.
It has been said that the door of life is a door of mystery; it becomes slightly shorter than the one who wishes to enter it. And thus only one who bows in humility can cross its threshold.
That’s another way of saying that our own ego, our own desire, when left unchecked is destructive. It often stands in the way of God’s purpose for us.
So the religious path is one of surrender; of letting go of our attachments, our fears, our comforts, and trusting our life to God. ‘Not my will, but Thy will,’ says the Psalmist.
And this is echoed by Paul when he pleads, “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.” And this is something quite profound. Paul has crossed that inner threshold having died to his selfishness, and has become alive in a more profound way. His entire being and reason for existence has become one with the Creator.
This sounds like a luxury, perhaps something for those who have the time for ‘self-actualization.’ Today we may think of those who have the time, money and desire to attend a personal growth seminar or yoga retreat. But certainly NOT US—we have kids and bills to pay…
But think again. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus not only commissions the 12 disciples, but here he sends out 72 others to go out and herald the Kingdom of God. Jesus did not come down to do it all himself. He certainly did the heavy lifting, but he calls human beings like us to join him in the great work of redemption. That includes all of us. And this is the amazing thing; that God would place such trust in humanity, cooperating with us in something so important.
And when the 72 returned to Jesus, they were in awe of how even the evil spirits were under their authority. Jesus however rebuked them saying; “Do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice because your names are written in heaven.”
It’s a reality check for them. Jesus is saying, Yes, you are doing God’s work… but don’t let it get to your head. And that’s the truth. It’s a wonderful thing to be on the side of truth and life, but it is too heavy a load and we can easily stumble. The human mind can only stand so much reality.
So that is why we are called to humility. Humility keeps us turning it over to God. It keeps our spirit at once free yet grounded, and ready to respond in service and in love.
It has been said that the door of life is a door of mystery; it becomes slightly shorter than the one who wishes to enter it. And thus only one who bows in humility can cross its threshold.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
THE INNER VOICE OF LOVE
There seems to be a paradox at the heart of Christian life: That we are free only when we serve Christ.
But how can we be both? How is it possible to be 'free servants'?
This of course, depends on the nature of our master, and in our case God is our master.
A lot can be gleaned by our reading from Paul today. He is addressing the confusion and the abuse of freedom that the Galatian community is experiencing. They are (mis)interpreting their new-found freedom in Christ as a license to do whatever they want (since they are redeemed anyways...) Some wishful thinking indeed.
Paul admonishes them by saying: "You were called for freedom, but do not use this as an opportunity for the flesh, but serve one another through love. For the whole law is fulfilled in one statement: Love your neighbour as yourself."
When we serve a God of love, we are called into a relationship of love with the other. But sin blocks this. Usually it's because it places a love-of-self before love-of-other. A dangerous path indeed. Sin is true slavery because it restricts by orienting us towards the finite, passing things of this world. This typically involves turning inward; either gratifying our base desires or serving our own ego.
But to be turned towards our neighbour in love is to be involved in the affairs of the eternal, because we are all children of God, and God cares deeply for each and every one of us.
What determines the path we're on? Whether we are on the path of sin or the path of redemption?
Having previously worked with L'arche, I lived in the community of Fr Henri Nouwen, who wrote a very important book called 'The Inner Voice of Love.' The book was originally a journal he kept through a very profound personal crisis. Throughout this painful time he realized that his inner life was dominated by two voices; one of his father who said "Henri, go out and be something great, make a name for yourself." And the voice of his mother, who encouraged him to always remain close to Jesus. He found himself constantly in the throes of these two voices that he carried with him deep in his psyche his entire life, and in a way they formed who he was.
But I want to suggest that we all have these voices that we carry with us. Sometimes they are the voices of our parents, or perhaps friends, but they can also be harmful voices, voices that urge us to follow the path of vanity, selfishness, or even hatred; just as in our world today people blow themselves up and kill innocent people because they have internalized the voices of their leaders.
It is in this context that I want to introduce our Gospel reading today. At face value, it is often considered harsh. Jesus tells a young man who wishes to follow him that he must come NOW. The young man says he is willing, but that he must first go home to bury his father. Jesus says, "Let the dead bury their dead. But you, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God." This is seen as extreme because burial customs were extremely important in the time the Gospels were written, and that this would obviously be a huge insult to his family.
Another man who wishes to simply bid farewell to his family before following Jesus is told, "No one who sets a hand on the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the Kingdom of God." This agrarian allusion is lost on most of us today, but what it means is that is that when you were plowing a field, you needed a straight row. By turning around to see what is behind you, you are going to veer slightly off to
the side. Your focus needs to be on the target in front of you.
Now this passage from Luke is often interpreted as hyperbole, which means that Jesus is using striking language to make a point (as when he instructs his followers to cut off their hand if it is causing them to sin). But what Jesus is asking is: Who is ultimately your master? Whose voice takes priority; the voice of family obligation, the voices of social expectations and norms?
It is a call to be aware of which voices have power in your life. Are they liberating or holding you back? Where is the voice of Jesus? Does he have a back seat, or is he your co-pilot? Take this question into prayer regularly.
Our goal is to live an incarnate spirituality, that is, wherever we are, to let the voice of Jesus come alive in our hearts and to let it transform the world around us. By following His voice we become free, as it liberates us from the prison of the self, from our ego and from our preoccupation with the passing, superficial temptations of this world towards something far more beautiful, far more profound, and far more holy.
But how can we be both? How is it possible to be 'free servants'?
This of course, depends on the nature of our master, and in our case God is our master.
A lot can be gleaned by our reading from Paul today. He is addressing the confusion and the abuse of freedom that the Galatian community is experiencing. They are (mis)interpreting their new-found freedom in Christ as a license to do whatever they want (since they are redeemed anyways...) Some wishful thinking indeed.
Paul admonishes them by saying: "You were called for freedom, but do not use this as an opportunity for the flesh, but serve one another through love. For the whole law is fulfilled in one statement: Love your neighbour as yourself."
When we serve a God of love, we are called into a relationship of love with the other. But sin blocks this. Usually it's because it places a love-of-self before love-of-other. A dangerous path indeed. Sin is true slavery because it restricts by orienting us towards the finite, passing things of this world. This typically involves turning inward; either gratifying our base desires or serving our own ego.
But to be turned towards our neighbour in love is to be involved in the affairs of the eternal, because we are all children of God, and God cares deeply for each and every one of us.
What determines the path we're on? Whether we are on the path of sin or the path of redemption?
Having previously worked with L'arche, I lived in the community of Fr Henri Nouwen, who wrote a very important book called 'The Inner Voice of Love.' The book was originally a journal he kept through a very profound personal crisis. Throughout this painful time he realized that his inner life was dominated by two voices; one of his father who said "Henri, go out and be something great, make a name for yourself." And the voice of his mother, who encouraged him to always remain close to Jesus. He found himself constantly in the throes of these two voices that he carried with him deep in his psyche his entire life, and in a way they formed who he was.
But I want to suggest that we all have these voices that we carry with us. Sometimes they are the voices of our parents, or perhaps friends, but they can also be harmful voices, voices that urge us to follow the path of vanity, selfishness, or even hatred; just as in our world today people blow themselves up and kill innocent people because they have internalized the voices of their leaders.
It is in this context that I want to introduce our Gospel reading today. At face value, it is often considered harsh. Jesus tells a young man who wishes to follow him that he must come NOW. The young man says he is willing, but that he must first go home to bury his father. Jesus says, "Let the dead bury their dead. But you, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God." This is seen as extreme because burial customs were extremely important in the time the Gospels were written, and that this would obviously be a huge insult to his family.
Another man who wishes to simply bid farewell to his family before following Jesus is told, "No one who sets a hand on the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the Kingdom of God." This agrarian allusion is lost on most of us today, but what it means is that is that when you were plowing a field, you needed a straight row. By turning around to see what is behind you, you are going to veer slightly off to
the side. Your focus needs to be on the target in front of you.
Now this passage from Luke is often interpreted as hyperbole, which means that Jesus is using striking language to make a point (as when he instructs his followers to cut off their hand if it is causing them to sin). But what Jesus is asking is: Who is ultimately your master? Whose voice takes priority; the voice of family obligation, the voices of social expectations and norms?
It is a call to be aware of which voices have power in your life. Are they liberating or holding you back? Where is the voice of Jesus? Does he have a back seat, or is he your co-pilot? Take this question into prayer regularly.
Our goal is to live an incarnate spirituality, that is, wherever we are, to let the voice of Jesus come alive in our hearts and to let it transform the world around us. By following His voice we become free, as it liberates us from the prison of the self, from our ego and from our preoccupation with the passing, superficial temptations of this world towards something far more beautiful, far more profound, and far more holy.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
LOVE THY ENEMY
To 'love thy enemy' is probably the hardest thing about being Christian--but it's also the most important.
And it's something that I think about every day… On our street we are friends (or friendly) with most of our neighbours, but a couple houses down live some known drug dealers. Sometimes I think they should install a drive-thru window, with all the customers they get coming up to the house.
I often wonder: What would Jesus Do? I imagine him going over for a fireside chat, working a couple miracles… I don’t know, but personally I havent been able to do anything but avoid eye contact.
But we all have people like that in our lives, people who seem flat-out irreconcilable.
However if we look closely at what Jesus is calling us to do, he is not saying we must have 100% outcomes all the time. It's not a call for perfect results in all situations. It's simply a call to love.
And when you break it down, love starts with a fundamental concern for another's well-being.
So in the case with my neighbours, What are my intentions? I admit, mostly I wish Clint Eastwood also lived on our street and would execute some vigilante justice a la Gran Torino. But do I love them in the sense that I hope and pray for them to turn their lives around? For them to find the peace and healing of Christ?
That's the big question we must all take into prayer. But that's where loving our enemy starts; in our intentions, in our heart of hearts.
So don’t be overwhelmed if it seems impossible. Just take those first steps of prayerfully examining your intentions, and God will be sure to meet you half way.
And it's something that I think about every day… On our street we are friends (or friendly) with most of our neighbours, but a couple houses down live some known drug dealers. Sometimes I think they should install a drive-thru window, with all the customers they get coming up to the house.
I often wonder: What would Jesus Do? I imagine him going over for a fireside chat, working a couple miracles… I don’t know, but personally I havent been able to do anything but avoid eye contact.
But we all have people like that in our lives, people who seem flat-out irreconcilable.
However if we look closely at what Jesus is calling us to do, he is not saying we must have 100% outcomes all the time. It's not a call for perfect results in all situations. It's simply a call to love.
And when you break it down, love starts with a fundamental concern for another's well-being.
So in the case with my neighbours, What are my intentions? I admit, mostly I wish Clint Eastwood also lived on our street and would execute some vigilante justice a la Gran Torino. But do I love them in the sense that I hope and pray for them to turn their lives around? For them to find the peace and healing of Christ?
That's the big question we must all take into prayer. But that's where loving our enemy starts; in our intentions, in our heart of hearts.
So don’t be overwhelmed if it seems impossible. Just take those first steps of prayerfully examining your intentions, and God will be sure to meet you half way.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
A QUICK CURE FOR PRIDE
Any man too pleased with his own virtue need only attend to his self-talk while operating a motor vehicle.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
A BRIEF THEOLOGY OF SPORTS
Though the organization I work for places a premium on physical fitness, my boss half-jokingly reminds me I'm not there on a 'sports scholarship.'
Guilty as charged; but if I have the opportunity to play sports (tennis, squash, floor-hockey, golf are currently my favorites), I will.
For chaplains, sports have their practical advantages; they're a great way to meet people and to network. But from a theological perspective, I will not apologize for my love of sports.
I first want to dispel the myth that it's all about competition. I am competitive when I play, but I do not play primarily for the satisfactiion of beating people. I remember when I was a kid, I drew far more pleasure from cranking out fly balls to my friends at the park or playing catch with the aerobie (a frisbee on crack), than from playing formal 'organized' sports.
For me, it's simply a love for moving through space... timing a leaping catch, or the joy of ripping the cover off a golf ball driven cleanly down a fairway.
You could break this down further to say that playing sports is one of the crowning joys of being incarnate, that is, of having a body and using it well.
The Greeks percieved a duality between spirit and flesh, but for Christians this duality was negated when God became man. The body became holy, a vessel worthy of the Son of God, and this is affirmed doctrinally in the resurrection of the flesh.
I remember golfing the other day; I was hitting the ball really well, the ocean was in full view and you could taste the salt in the air. The wind was blowing the clouds enough to create dancing patterns of light across the endlessly rolling green fields. And I remember suddenly understanding why there were so many golf jokes with their punchlines involving heaven.
And in my heart I said a little prayer of thanks, but what I really wanted to do was drop to my knees and give God full praise -- I just didn't know how that would have gone over with the other guys in the foursome.
Kidding aside, the point is this: if Christians are going to be advocates for a 'culture of life' we have to go beyond the hot-button 'sperm and worm' issues (abortion, euthanasia etc.), and start celebrating all the goodness and joy of living we find in between.
Guilty as charged; but if I have the opportunity to play sports (tennis, squash, floor-hockey, golf are currently my favorites), I will.
For chaplains, sports have their practical advantages; they're a great way to meet people and to network. But from a theological perspective, I will not apologize for my love of sports.
I first want to dispel the myth that it's all about competition. I am competitive when I play, but I do not play primarily for the satisfactiion of beating people. I remember when I was a kid, I drew far more pleasure from cranking out fly balls to my friends at the park or playing catch with the aerobie (a frisbee on crack), than from playing formal 'organized' sports.
For me, it's simply a love for moving through space... timing a leaping catch, or the joy of ripping the cover off a golf ball driven cleanly down a fairway.
You could break this down further to say that playing sports is one of the crowning joys of being incarnate, that is, of having a body and using it well.
The Greeks percieved a duality between spirit and flesh, but for Christians this duality was negated when God became man. The body became holy, a vessel worthy of the Son of God, and this is affirmed doctrinally in the resurrection of the flesh.
I remember golfing the other day; I was hitting the ball really well, the ocean was in full view and you could taste the salt in the air. The wind was blowing the clouds enough to create dancing patterns of light across the endlessly rolling green fields. And I remember suddenly understanding why there were so many golf jokes with their punchlines involving heaven.
And in my heart I said a little prayer of thanks, but what I really wanted to do was drop to my knees and give God full praise -- I just didn't know how that would have gone over with the other guys in the foursome.
Kidding aside, the point is this: if Christians are going to be advocates for a 'culture of life' we have to go beyond the hot-button 'sperm and worm' issues (abortion, euthanasia etc.), and start celebrating all the goodness and joy of living we find in between.
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