Santa Lucia

I often lament that Lutherans and members of other churches that arose at the time of the Reformation have forgotten some of the traditions that help us to remember the saints who have gone before us.  Among some Lutheran churches, though, today is an exception to that trend, as traditions associated with the feast of Santa Lucia (St. Lucy) remain popular among many Lutherans, particularly in Scandinavia, as well as here in America among churches of Swedish descent.

According to the tradition, Lucia (whose name means "light") was martyred in Sicily around 310 A.D., during one of the last major periods of Christian persecution before Constantine became emperor and legalized Christianity a few years later.  Several centuries later, when Christianity spread to Northern Europe, her story and name took on special meaning there, because she represents light during the darkest time of year, around the winter solstice.  

To this day in Scandinavia, she is remembered on her feast day through festivals where a person - oftentimes a young girl - will be dressed in a white dress and red sash with a crown or wreath of candles on her head. The person representing Lucia will sometimes also carry rolls and cookies in procession as songs are sung.  

As I have written about before, the number of people who still attend worship in Scandinavia has dwindled drastically in recent decades.  But, there are still signs of light in the darkness, and the continued celebration of Santa Lucia is one of them.  Here is a video of a beautiful rendition of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" sung at the Lutheran Cathedral in Stockholm, where you can see some of the traditions associated with the Santa Lucia festival.

 

Luther on Monasticism

Anyone who is familiar with the writings of Martin Luther knows that he did not hide his disdain for the monastic lifestyle from which he came.  Many people take that criticism to mean that Luther was advocating for the complete removal of monasticism from Christianity.  A careful reading of Luther does not support that conclusion, though.  For, in the midst of his vitriolic writings directed against the medieval monastic institutions, you can find quotes like these:

"And so, if you vow to take up the religious life, and if you live with men of like mind, with a clear conscience that in monasticism you seek nothing to your advantage in your relationship with God, but because either your situation has brought you to embrace this kind of life, or it appeared to be the best way of life for you, without your thinking thereby that you are better than he who takes a wife or takes up farming, then in that case you are neither wrong to take vows nor wrong to live in this way, insofar as the propriety of the vow is concerned." (From "Judgment of Martin Luther on Monastic Vows", written in 1521, and found in Luther's Works, Vol. 44, page 304).

In that same writing, Luther had nothing but praise for St. Anthony, the founder of monasticism:

"St. Anthony, the very father of monks and the founder of monastic life, most wisely and in a Christian manner believed and taught that absolutely nothing should be observed which did not have the authority of Scripture. He knew absolutely nothing about monastic vows and ceremonial of this kind, but willingly chose to live as a hermit, and of his own will chose to live unmarried, after the pattern of the gospel.  Pursuing human wisdom, his successors made this way of life into a vow, into a matter of obligation and compulsion.  This way of life is but a specious copy and a mistaken observance of the rule of Anthony, which is the rule of Christ." (Luther's Works, Vol. 44, p. 253).


These passages make it apparent that Luther did not seek to destroy monasticism, but to reform it, and to have it return to its roots according to the way of the early monastics. His criticisms were not directed at the very existence of monasticism, but at the system of vows that had developed, and at the medieval notion that monasticism was a superior form of life compared to other vocations, such as family life and other forms of labor.

Unfortunately, churches that are the heirs of the Reformation have largely forgotten that the rule of St. Anthony is the rule of Christ.  But, as I have noted elsewhere, the seeds are being sown for a new form of monasticism, based on the Gospel and the ancient forms of monasticism.  It is my belief that this new/old form of monasticism  will play a crucial role in the promulgation of the faith in our increasingly secular, post-Christendom context.    

Listening - An Unconditional Surrender to Abba

For those of you who have regularly followed my blog over the past year and a half, you might have noticed that I haven't posted as much during the last month.  Part of my blogging silence is due to lots of work commitments going on, and part of it is due to the kids being back in school, and the activities that go along with that season of the year.  Another reason is that beginning last month, I began a two year program to be trained in spiritual direction.  Portions of the class are taught at the beautiful Benedictine Peace Center, located at Sacred Heart Monastery in Yankton, South Dakota, and the balance is online.  So, there has been a lot of other reading and writing on my plate during the last month.

Last week, one of the assigned readings dealt with listening.  In the midst of the "busy-ness" of my fall season, these words resonated with my deep-seated need to slow down, so that I can be aware of God's presence and voice in my life:

"Listening is that attitude of the heart whereby that which is deepest and most mysterious in us remains in loving attentiveness to that which is deepest and most mysterious in God.  By listening, we abide in the simplicity of being in love with our God. We remain loving our Beloved, with our whole heart, soul, mind, and strength (Matthew 22:37) irrespective of words, thoughts and specific actions.

Listening is unconditional surrender to Abba.  Listening is a giving of our deepest to him whose depth has no end.  Thus, it is an act of abandonment in faith, hope, and love, a wordless, imageless, loving surrender of our whole being to God.

Listening is waiting upon God in watchful expectancy.  Not that we wait for or expect some-thing. Rather we wait for some-One: God himself."

(From "The Way of Spiritual Direction" by Francis Kelly Nemeck and Marie Theresa Coombs, pp. 62-63).

St. Bruno

Today, October 6, is the feast day of St. Bruno, founder of the Carthusian Order.  While he is certainly nowhere near as famous as the saint we celebrated a couple of days ago (Francis of Assisi), because of my fondness for the kind of contemplative spirituality championed by St. Bruno, he is a particular favorite of mine.  Plus, this quote from St. Bruno is pretty cool, too:

""While the world changes, the cross stands firm."

 

St. Francis of Assisi

All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle ~ St. Francis of Assisi.

Death and Life (Monday Morning in the Desert)

Words from a recent sermon by Victoria Osteen, the wife of famous preacher Joel Osteen, have circled around the internet the past few weeks, and have been picked apart by numerous other bloggers and commentators, so I apologize for jumping on that bandwagon.  (If you missed that story, the essence of her message was that we are to "do good for our own self" and not for God, because God just wants us to "be happy" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koIBkYl0cHk).

In a world where Christianity has all but been eradicated in Iraq, where ancient Christian communities have worshiped for nearly 2,000 years, and where journalists trying to cover events in that region are being captured and beheaded, those types of messages emanating from American Christianity must seem quite peculiar to the rest of the world, to say the least.   In the spirit of Martin Luther's commentary on the Eighth Commandment (the one about bearing false witness against our neighbor, according to the Lutheran/Catholic numbering of the Ten Commandments), I won't say more, except to just offer this quote from an anonymous Carthusian monk:

"Death to self and life in God are inseparably linked: the one without the other remains sterile." (From p. 43 of "The Prayer of Love and Silence".

Ask, Search, Knock (Monday Morning in the Desert)

Today's reflection comes from an anonymous Carthusian monk, regarding perseverance in prayer:

“Once we have understood that God is disposed towards us as a father, confident perseverance in prayer is a natural consequence.

‘Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.’ (Luke 11:9-10).

The one who gives and opens is God. Ask, search, knock. Ask for everything, ask for the Spirit, seek God, knock at the door of the Kingdom (‘Lord, open to us,’ 12:25-7).  Knock at the door which is Christ, he who is the way to the Father; through his wounds we have access to the Father, who, the first, is seeking after us in his Son. ‘Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come to you and eat with you, and you with me’ (Revelation 3:20). So, when I pray, my prayer is only an echo of God’s prayer.  In that case, how could he refuse, refuse himself? What a mystery prayer is.”

(From “Interior Prayer” by a Carthusian, p. 29)

 

Lutheran Monastery Virtual Tour - A Return to Germany

Last year, I embarked on what I called a "Lutheran Monastery Virtual Tour", where I wrote about several monasteries and convents in the Lutheran tradition.  Judging by what Google statistics tell me, those posts are the most consistently popular posts on this blog, and each week, people arrive here by typing phrases such as "Lutheran nuns" and "Lutheran monks" in their search engine.  You can click on the "Lutheran Monastery Virtual Tour" tag at the bottom of this post to see all the previous stops on the tour.

During the Tour, I made several stops in Germany, where it appears there are more functioning Lutheran monasteries and convents than any other country.  A few months ago, the "Lutheran Forum" periodical published an essay by David Zersen, entitled "Lutheran Convents in Germany".  Of course, the article piqued my interest, and it offers fascinating insights into the history and current status of Lutheran religious sisters in Germany. (The following image is from the Lutheran Forum website - http://www.lutheranforum.org/extras/lutheran-convents-in-germany/ - you can see more pictures by going to the link):




Zersen's article contains the following summary of the state of German Lutheran convents, which summarizes why I think it is important for Lutheran monasteries and convents to continue their unique witness within our tradition:

"Today's Lutheran convents, challenged by changing social structures and new spiritualities, continue to explore the dimensions of the faith in both interaction and silence.  Margot Käßmann, former presiding bishop of the Evangelische Kirche in Deutschland, notes how many people search for faith and meaning in esoteric religions, all the while forgetting that meditation and mysticism are not foreign to Lutheranism.  And Dorothea Wendebourg insists that by claiming their baptism and knowing that salvation is complete through faith in Christ, women will in freedom continue to choose forms of discipleship including communal life.  The Lutheran churches in German want to nurture this choice that has been so meaningful to women for almost five centuries.  Convents still have much to offer. Uda von der Nahmer, abbess at Stift Fischbeck, remarks, 'Tradition involves passing on the fire, not worshiping the ashes.'"

(You can read the rest of Zersen's article here: http://www.lutheranforum.org/extras/2014-1_38-41_Zersen_Lutheran-Convents-In-Germany.pdf).

The Contemplative Way (Monday Morning in the Desert)

Perhaps some people practice contemplative prayer to see visions or have dramatic experiences.  That is not the reason why Christians should practice contemplative prayer.  The reason why we are called to a life of contemplative prayer is to die to ourselves, follow the way of Christ, and to be drawn into the presence of God.  Regarding the contemplative way, Merton once wrote:


"The contemplative way is in no sense a deliberate 'technique' of self-emptying in order to produce an esoteric experience.  It is the paradoxical response to an almost incomprehensible call from God, drawing us into solitude, plunging us into darkness and silence, not to withdraw and protect us from peril, but to bring us safely through untold dangers by a miracle of love and power.  The contemplative way is, in fact, not a way.  Christ alone is the way, and he is invisible. The 'desert' of contemplation is simply a metaphor to explain the state of emptiness which we experience when we have left all ways, forgotten  ourselves, and taken the invisible Christ as our way." (From "Contemplative Prayer" by Thomas Merton, p. 92).

St. Jonathan Daniels

The news this week from Ferguson, Missouri, reminds us we still have a lot of healing and reconciliation to do in this country.  When I was on the Pine Ridge Reservation a few weeks ago, I experienced firsthand how events like the Wounded Knee Massacre still cast a long shadow on relationships between people of different races and ethnic backgrounds.

Today's saint, Jonathan Daniels, was a martyr during the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s - as I wrote about last year (http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2013/08/modern-martyrdom.html), he was a an Episcopal seminarian from New England who answered Martin Luther King Jr.'s call for assistance, and he ended up on the wrong end of a shotgun blast as a result. 

After spending time in Selma, Alabama in 1965, Daniels returned to seminary, and would have lived if he had stayed there.  But, he felt God was calling him to return:  “[S]omething had happened to me in Selma, which meant I had to come back. I could not stand by in benevolent dispassion any longer without compromising everything I know and love and value. The imperative was too clear, the stakes too high, my own identity was called too nakedly into question...I had been blinded by what I saw here (and elsewhere), and the road to Damascus led, for me, back here.”

Why was he called to go back to Alabama, a decision which cost him his life? He also wrote:  "I began to know in my bones and sinews that I had been truly baptized into the Lord’s death and resurrection...with them, the black men and white men, with all life, in him whose Name is above all names that the races and nations shout...we are indelibly and unspeakably one."

On Pine Ridge, I learned that the Lakota have a phrase for the kind of unity that Daniels spoke about: "Mitakuye Oyasin", or in English, "we are all related".  May God give us the strength to follow the example of St. Jonathan Daniels, so that we may continue the struggle for justice, peace, and reconciliation. 

If you are interested in learning more about Daniels, you can watch an excellent documentary about his life here:  http://vimeo.com/14117023

Mental Illness

The apparent suicide of Robin Williams yesterday has once again put the subject of mental illness in the national spotlight.  No family that I know of has escaped unscathed from mental illness, but our society still struggles with how to deal with it in our communities.  Physical illnesses and injuries are tangible, identifiable things which automatically lead to a response of sympathy and support.  While our response to mental illness is improving, it could be better - amidst the outpouring of sorrow about Williams' death, there have still been some remarks in the media which reveal a lack of understanding of how mental illness can affect someone.

The blog of Deacon Greg Kandra has a beautiful prayer about mental illness, based on Psalm 23, which I find appropriate this morning - it is long, but it is worth praying:

"The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

Although sometimes we feel we lack everything. Sometimes we cannot see what you have given us through the lie of what has been taken away. Show us how to see your blessing. Show us how to see your provision when the world teaches us an economy of fear and scarcity.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.

Refresh us, Lord. Let the raging waters be quiet. Let dry pastures be watered. Let us lie down and rest without fear.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.

We so often turn from your path—believing lies about ourselves, about others, about you; taking on burdens that are not ours to bear; struggling to entrust you with ourselves, our family, our friends, and our circumstances. Guide us along your path of trust and contentment.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,

The valley of depression, the valley of medication, the valley of sorrow, the valley of pain and abandonment, the valley of past wrongs done to me, the valley of despair, the valley of derision, the valley of fear, the valley of waiting, the valley of misunderstanding.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of the valley in which you walk, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

Although we sometimes feel abandoned, you have not left us alone. You have not left us alone with our depression, with our sorrow, our pain, our illness, our despair, our fear, our waiting. You have not left us alone with the past wrongs that have been done to us, with the derision and misunderstanding of others. You have not left us alone. You are with us.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

With your rod, you protect us from ourselves. With your staff, you protect us from the harm of others. Your truth comforts us, as we find our identity wholly and firmly locked up in you.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

Although we are surrounded by people who do not understand the weight we bear, the struggles we face, we gather to eat at your table. Although we suffer ignorant comments, laughter, and sometimes shame—we are worthy to eat at your table. We can eat our fill—even feast—because you have not despised us. You have made us welcome.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

You have made us worthy. You have made us chosen. You accept us with all our flaws, with all our illness and frailty, with all our failings. You have anointed us, us, to serve with you—our cup overflows with joy.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,

Surely goodness and love will follow us. Surely goodness and love will chase us down—despite ourselves, despite others, despite our circumstances—goodness and love, by the power and grace of your Spirit, have found us. And will never let us go.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Forever. In health, in strength, in love, in mercy. Forever. Amen.

The Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

And as we rest in that assurance, we pray for those who live without it, and who live with the pain and stigma of mental illness. We ask that you would watch over those who live on the street, without the medication they so desperately need. We pray that you would hold accountable those systems that have let these precious children of yours down, that have left them destitute. We pray for those who are in positions of power—that, as they make policies and work to improve existing structures of care, they would faithfully and carefully consider the welfare of those who struggle with mental illness. We pray that you would prevent us from putting distance between ourselves and those struggling with mental illness. That you would grow in us the love we need to take action, and to make their struggle our own.

Comfort those who live with the darkness of depression. May we be a light in the darkness for them. Teach us to avoid false cheerfulness, and instead give us wisdom to know how to help our friends and family who struggle in this way to come up for air. To see, again, your goodness. Lord, watch over those who are, even now, contemplating suicide. Stop their hands. Send someone to intervene.

Guard our tongues from unthinking and unkind words that contribute to feelings of worthlessness. Empower us to use our words, instead, to speak for those who cannot. To proclaim your worth over those our culture denigrates. To defend the powerless, and stop others from contributing to the stigma that mental illness so often carries.

Bring the comfort only you can bring to those who have lost a loved one to mental illness. And use us to bring comfort. May we, your church, be a healing presence, a safe community, a strong advocate for the mentally ill.

Thank you for the assurance that you do not let go. That you are always with us. May we in turn extend that hope to every person we encounter.

Amen."

From  http://www.patheos.com/blogs/deaconsbench/2013/07/a-prayer-for-mental-health/

Pine Ridge

I won't be blogging this week, because I am with a group of youth from my congregation at the Pine Ridge Reservation, the home of the Oglala Lakota.  Stories about Pine Ridge usually focus on poverty and alcoholism, but so far, I've noticed the strong family bonds, a deep respect for elders, as well as the efforts to instill in the youth a sense of pride in Lakota traditions.  I may write more about the experience later, but for now, I'll just leave you with a few images from our experience so far:
 

The Badlands.

St. John's Church, a rural parish near Oglala, South Dakota, where where we worshiped yesterday.

An image from a pow-wow near Red Shirt Table.

Daily Prayer (Monday Morning in the Desert)

While I have written about the Rule of St. Benedict lately, it has been awhile since I have quoted directly from the Rule, so I thought today's "Monday Morning in the Desert" post could come from the Rule.  Here is the portion of the Rule which speaks directly to the times of daily prayer:

"Let us give 'praise' to our Creator for his 'deeds of justice' [Ps 118(119):164] at the following times: Matins, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers and Compline.  And 'Let us rise at night to praise him.' [Ps 118(119):62].

(From Chapter 16.5 of the Rule, quoted at p. 144 in "Day by Day with Saint Benedict" by Terrence G. Kardong, OSB).

Why is it important to pray throughout the day as the Benedictines do? Father Kardong writes:  "Life on planet earth requires that some time be given to tasks like eating, working, sleeping, and so forth.  So the monks try to space their prayer periods throughout the day.  What should we pray for? Benedict wants us to praise God for his deeds of justice."  (From p. 144 of "Day by Day with Saint Benedict).

Sometimes, people who are interested in daily prayer ask me what books they have to buy, or resources they have to have to pray such a daily pattern.  With the advent of online daily prayer sites and phone apps, finding resources for daily prayer is easy these days.  For me, though, while I enjoy praying online (I just tweeted Morning Prayer @Virtual_Abbey), I still like using books more often than not.  For Lutherans, Anglicans, and others who have a common prayerbook or hymnbook, the resources for daily prayer are right at our finger tips.  Lutheran hymnbooks, such as the Lutheran Book of Worship and Evangelical Lutheran Worship, have specific texts for Morning Prayer, Evening Prayer, and Compline, and also "Responsive Prayer", which contains the prayers for mid-morning, noon, and mid-afternoon.

Having said all of that, I still fall into slumps where I don't pray as often as I should.  But, fortunately,  God is "merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness." (Psalm 86:15).

Religious Life and the Revival of the Church

I came across an excellent blog post today from an Episcopal priest (Fr. Robert Hendrickson) which says what I have been trying to say from the inception of this blog, albeit from a Lutheran perspective. Here are some of the key statements, relating to the renewal of the Church via a reinvigorated diaconate and neo-monastic movement:

First, he explains the issue and the goal: "[T]here are many, many people looking to have their faith be not something apart from the rest of their life or a distraction amidst a panoply of distractions. They are seeking a way for their faith to form their life and for their life to matter in the deepest ways possible.....  It seems to me that we might be entering a cultural moment in which we should consider the Religious life (monastic vocations) and the diaconate as the ideal means to form leaders equipped to engage the realities of contemporary society..... I firmly believe that intentional Religious Communities and a robust Diaconate are key to the rejuvenation of a vibrant Christian presence all across the country. The need is for missionary communities of prayer, service, and sacrificial giving."

Next, Fr. Hendrickson sets forth why a robust religious life is needed for the renewal of the Church: "This work begins with daily prayer and the Sacraments – but the churches that serve as the heart of this kind of disciplined approach to engaging the Holy would not be the final destination but the launching point for those trained and equipped to be the presence of Christ for those they meet and serve. I imagine local Churches serving as a sort of mother ship where people are fed and trained for missionary service...... These deacons would serve at the heart of local communities of those taking religious vows. Whether full-time, professed monastics or part of neo-monastic communities we should also be looking for those in our communities who are yearning for a deeper connection to other faithful people and are longing for their faith to ground their approach to work, relationship, and service. These kinds of communities could then become the heart of congregations longing for connection to the communities around them but fearful or unsure of taking the next step."

And then, he states his conclusion: "Ultimately, it will be these servant-leaders who are creatively making Christ known in the communities around us who will re-center the Church and draw others to come and see."

(The rest of the article can be read here -  http://thesubdeansstall.org/2014/07/16/the-diaconate-and-lay-religious-orders-the-shape-of-future-ministry/)

I agree 100% with Fr. Hendrickson's recommendations.  The perplexing thing for me, as a part of the ELCA, is that I am not quite sure how we can fit those recommendations into our existing paradigm for ministry.  As for the diaconate, our existing diaconal ministries are somewhat jumbled between three different lay orders (Diaconal Ministers, Associates in Ministry, and Deaconesses - I understand that there is a movement afoot to reform this, but I am not sure when this might take place, or what the result will be). But, at least we have an existing diaconal ministry which can be reformed and used to further the revival of the Church. 

As to the religious life, though, as I have long lamented, Lutherans have a long way to go.  Yes, there are some Lutheran religious communities around the world, which I have tried to promote (http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/search/label/Lutheran%20Monastery%20Virtual%20Tour). There are also other movements which offer intriguing possibilities for the restoration of the religious life in American Lutheranism, such as the Order of Lutheran Franciscans (http://www.lutheranfranciscans.org/), but as of yet, these movements are not widely known among rank-and-file Lutherans. 

Those of us in Lutheranism who believe that a renewal of the religious life will be an important part of proclaiming the Gospel in a post-Christendom world are swimming against the tide of nearly 500 years of sentiment which is wary of (if not outright antagonistic to) the religious life.  Unlike Catholics, Orthodox, and Anglicans (at least since the 19th Century Oxford Movement), intentional communities of daily prayer are outside of the framework of reference of what institutional Lutheranism thinks "church" should look like. 

I am often reminded of how many Lutherans are unfamiliar with daily corporate prayer and the religious life when I am on Twitter, where I try to promote those things through my personal account (@PastorJayDenne) and through praying some of the daily offices via @Virtual_Abbey.  While some fellow Lutherans (both clergy and laity) follow and interact with those accounts, sometimes it seems as if I interact more with Catholics, Orthodox, and Anglicans than with Lutherans.  I saw a glaring example of this the other day, when I noticed that at the Virtual Abbey, Archbishop Kurtz (of the Archdiocese of Louisville, and the President of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops) "retweeted" my morning prayers, but I have yet to see any Lutheran bishops follow or respond. (A caveat - my own Synod Bishop has been highly supportive, but I don't see him much on Twitter).

Does this mean that I am tilting at proverbial windmills a la Don Quixote?  Only time (and the Holy Spirit, of course) will tell.  But, I will keep trying, as I firmly believe in what Fr. Hendrickson said:

"We need passionate and powerful advocates for Christ in the communities around us – we need deacons and lay religious equipped for holy living. They can be, in our communities, the kinds of Christians that people never knew existed whose concern is not institutional maintenance or Church membership but is a faith lived so eloquently and authentically that their very being is evangelical.....They could be an inspiration for the congregation’s deepening sense of their own vocation as evangelists and servants." 

Patterns (Monday Morning in the Desert)

As my 44th birthday rolls around next month, the thought has occurred to me that I am almost halfway through the "regular" working years of my life - I finished law school and started practicing law when I was still 24 years old, so assuming that I work until my mid-60s, I have completed approximately half of my work life.

As I look toward the second half of my work life, the patterns that have developed during the first half will shape the future of my vocational path.  In my law practice, I have always preferred resolving disputes through reconciliation as opposed to the lengthy and sometimes soul-killing process of litigation.  I still litigate on behalf of a client when necessary, but upon recognizing the pattern of preferring reconciliation to litigation, I have sought out training in mediation, and have served as a mediator in certain cases.

My life as an ordained pastor (3 1/2 years) is much shorter than my career as a lawyer, but I have been doing it long enough to recognize certain patterns there as well - this blog has documented the development of my thoughts on how to incorporate the Benedictine way into my personal spiritual life, as well as into ministry in the context of a small Lutheran congregation.  The next step on this path will begin this fall, when I enroll in a two-year course on spiritual direction taught at a nearby Benedictine monastery.  

In other words, it took me approximately two decades - half of my work life - to finally figure out what I want to do when I grow up!  

It is through the patterns that have occurred in our lives that we can get a sense of where God is calling us to go.  Many times, we cannot see those patterns in our own lives, so we rely on others to identify those patterns for us.

St. Seraphim of Sarov was a hermit monk who lived in nineteenth century Russia, who had the gift of seeing patterns in the lives of people who sought his counsel.  He had these words to say about discerning God's will for our lives through recognizing those patterns:

"The visible pattern of every single life is of God's choosing.  We only have to become conscious of it, follow it courageously, and see that we don't distort God's intention.  No two leaves on a tree are perfectly alike. Neither are any two lives. Everyone must strive to fill this unique life of his own with a love of God so constant and so great that it flares up into a luminous love of man. Listen, my joy, we... must learn to feel, discern and understand.  This only comes through years of reflecting on good and evil. Then we see things good and bad, in the light of God's wisdom: and then we develop the gift of true discrimination without which no one dare guide others...... Try to see how the pattern behind the events of today is transformed into the pattern behind the events of tomorrow."

(Quoted at p. 51 of "A Simplified Life" by Verena Schiller).

Why the Benedictine Way?

On July 11th each year, Christians around the world celebrate the Feast of St. Benedict.  Despite declining numbers of Benedictine monks and nuns living in monasteries, there has been a surge of interest in the Rule of St. Benedict during recent decades.  Just go to Amazon, type the word "Benedictine" in the search box, and well over 5,000 items (5,647 as of today, to be exact) for sale show up (the number of items for sale relating to St. Benedict is probably even higher, but when you search "Benedict", numerous other Benedicts show up, including Pope Benedict, Benedict Arnold, and Benedict Cumberbatch). 

What is it about the Rule of St. Benedict that draws thousands (if not millions) of people like myself to become interested in Benedictine spirituality, even though we have no intention of living in a monastery?  There are probably many different answers to that question.  For some, the Benedictine way of daily prayer may be the primary draw.  For others, it may be the way the Rule leads them to meditate and pray with scripture, using the method of lectio divina.  Still others are drawn to one of the many aspects of the Benedictine way, such as hospitality, stability, humility, or conversion of life. 

The Rule, despite its relative brevity, offers a deep and broad perspective on Christian spirituality which has not been surpassed since it was written approximately 1,500 years ago.  Benedictine monk Gregory Collins put it this way:

"(The Rule's) basic structures and fundamental ethos - the following of Christ in humility through obedience, stability, and conversion of life, constant recourse to scripture in lectio divina as the source of wisdom, the need for prayer of the heart and the centrality of liturgical prayer - are the fundamental ideals which inform Benedictine life..... The Rule is like a base camp for trekking in the mountains - it is a place from which one starts and to which one returns, a secure reference point for whatever adventures lie on the way in one's spiritual journey."

(From pp. 10-11 of  "Meeting Christ in His Mysteries: A Benedictine Vision of the Spiritual Life").

A Timeless Liturgy

Today, I'm going to take a break from my normal Monday musings on the sayings of ancient and modern Desert Fathers and Mothers, and write about an experience from yesterday that gave me joy. 


Over the July 4th weekend, we stayed at a hotel in Omaha, Nebraska, and just a few blocks away was Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, sitting among the downtown skyscrapers.

I noticed they offer a Rite I Eucharist on Sunday mornings at 8:30 a.m., so I decided to attend that service (one of the rare occasions when I am able to worship somewhere else on a Sunday morning).  For those of you who aren't familiar with Episcopal-ese, Rite I is the worship setting in the current Book of Common Prayer which maintains the "ye olde English" liturgy, complete with language such as this post-Communion prayer:

"Almighty and everliving God, we most heartily thank thee for that though dost feed us in these holy mysteries, with the spiritual food of the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son our Savior Jesus Christ; and dost assure us thereby of thy favor and goodness towards us; and that we are very members incorporate in the mystical body of thy Son, the blessed company of all faithful people; and are also heirs, through hope, of thy everlasting kingdom.  And we humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father; so to assist us with thy grace, that we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honor and glory, world without end. Amen."

Use of that language is decidedly counter-cultural in 2014 - most churches these days stay as far away as possible from the type of language found in a Rite I Eucharist.  But, there is something about that language which reminds us that worship is a gathering of ordinary humans to experience something extraordinary.  Worship is not intended to be a gathering to learn about self-help methods, or listen to music with a religious sheen, but about an encounter with the divine "other" revealed to us as the Trinity - the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

Since I would be attending a worship service at 8:30 a.m. on a holiday weekend, I was fearful that I would be the only one there to worship that morning.  Fortunately, I was wrong!  It was not a huge crowd, but there were several others of various ages (from young couples with small children on up) there that morning.

Why were they there at 8:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning during a holiday weekend?  Each worshiper would have their own unique reasons, of course.  But, regardless of their individual reasons, they came together as a community where there was a tangible presence of God, communicated to us through a timeless form of the liturgy, the hearing of the Word, and the reception of the Sacrament at the altar.   Those means of grace renew, strengthen, and nourish us, so that we can go out into the world with the following exhortation (spoken by the priest during each Rite I Eucharist service) in mind: 

"It is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto thee, O Lord, holy Father, almighty everlasting God."

Summer Reading (Monday Morning in the Desert)

Summer is here, so many people are talking about their summer reading plans.  Many people like to do their summer reading on a beach or a resort somewhere.  Well, our family hasn't made any big summer plans, and here in Iowa, there really aren't any beaches (a few square feet of sand adjacent to a small lake doesn't count) and the resorts are few and far between.  So, my summer reading will have to be out on our three-season porch (unless there is too much heat and humidity, which we do have plenty of in Iowa during the summer).

What will I be reading?  Well, I haven't made my final list, but here are a few thoughts.  Since I will be taking a youth group to the Lutheran/Presbyterian Mission Center on the Pine Ridge Reservation, I am reading a little bit of history ("A Terrible Glory:  Custer and the Little Bighorn - the Last Great Battle of the American West" by James Donovan, a book which is about more than just that one battle, but about the unfortunate history surrounding the takeover of the West).  I'm also going to read a book about the current state of Native Americans ("Neither Wolf Nor Dog: On Forgotten Roads with an Indian Elder" by Kent Nerburn).  

Theologically, I have come to realize that I have a gaping hole in my knowledge of two 20th century theological giants: Karl Barth and Hans Urs von Balthasar.  So, time permitting, I plan on reading through a couple of introductory books about those two theologians, and finish by reading a new book from Fortress Press, "Saving Karl Barth: Hans Urs von Balthasar's Preoccupation" by D. Stephen Long.  Somewhere along the line, I hope to read a bit of fiction as well, but I haven't decided what to read yet, other than perhaps re-reading "The Hobbit" before the final movie in that series comes out later this year.   

So, today's quote is about reading books, from Thomas Merton:

"Reading gives God more glory when we get more out of it, when it is a more deeply vital act, not only of our intelligence but of our whole personality, absorbed and refreshed in thought, meditation, prayer, or even in the contemplation of God. Books can speak to us like God...They speak to us like God when they bring us light and peace and fill us with silence.  They speak to us like God when we desire never to leave them."

(From "Thoughts in Solitude" pp. 55-56).  And finally, he offers this little gem: "Christ, the Incarnate Word, is the Book of Life in Whom we read God" (p. 57).

Letting Go (Monday Morning in the Desert)

It could be said that much of Christianity has been reduced to theology by "bumper sticker", consisting of sayings which can fit onto a sticker placed on the bumper of a car.  Or, using a more recent mode of communication, I could call it "theology according to Twitter", where the sayings are limited to 140 characters. Many sayings are of dubious quality, such as the notorious "God helps those who help themselves", the alleged quotation from the Bible which is nowhere to be found in Scripture.

One saying that I hear periodically goes like this: "Let go, and let God".  Again, like many of these sayings,it could be used at inappropriate times or for inappropriate reasons.  However, unlike "God helps those who help themselves", a saying with little or no redeeming qualities, there may be a legitimate use of "Let go, and let God". 

"Let go, and let God" can perhaps be used to describe the message in an anonymous letter dating from fourteenth-century Germany, which is sometimes called "The Silent Outcry".  It is believed to be a letter from a spiritual director, and the message of the letter is that it is only by letting go of God that God can be found.

"Learn how to let go of God through God, the hidden God through the naked God.  Be willing to lose a penny in order to find a guilder.  Get rid of the water, so that you can make wine..... [I]f you want to eat of the honey, you should not be put off by the bee's sting.  If you want to catch fish, learn to get wet; if you want to see Jesus on the shore (John 21:4), learn to sink down into the sea first."  (Matthew 14:30)

 ****

Listen.  Look.  Suffer and be still.  Release yourself into the light.  See with intellect.  Learn with discretion.  Suffer with joy.  Rejoice with longing.  Have desire with forbearance.  Complain to no one.  My child, be patient and release yourself, because no one can dig God out from the ground of your heart.

O deep treasure, how will you be dug up? O high perfection, who may attain you?  O flowing fountain, who can exhaust you? O burning Brilliance; outbursting Power; simple Return; naked hiddenness; hidden Security; secure Confidence; simple silent One in all things; manifold Good in a single silence; You silent Outcry, no one can find you who does not know how to let you go.

Release yourself, my child, and thank God that he has given you such a way of life."

(From p. 141 of "The Essential Writings of Christian Mysticism", edited by Bernard McGinn). 

A Vision of Marriage

Recently, I read through the classic book, "For the Life of the World", by Alexander Schmemann.  One passage, regarding marriage, is particularly poignant:

"In movies and magazines the 'icon' of marriage is always a youthful couple.  But once, in the light and warmth of an autumn afternoon, this writer saw on the bench of a public square, in a poor Parisian suburb, an old and poor couple.  They were sitting hand in hand, in silence, enjoying the pale light, the last warmth of the season.  In silence:  all words had been said, all passion exhausted, all storms at peace.  The whole life was behind - yet all of it was now present, in this silence, in this light, in this warmth, in this silent unity of hands.  Present - and ready for eternity, ripe for joy.  This to me remains the vision of marriage, of its heavenly beauty." (p. 90).

Today is the 21st anniversary of the day when God joined my wife and I together in marriage, so we have many more years in front of us before the day when we take our place on that park bench.  But, even now, in the present whirlwind of children, vocations, and activities that define our lives, I hope we can take a little bit of time to sit and hold hands in silence.

.

Mercy (Monday Morning in the Desert)

Yesterday, I prayed at the bedside of a family member who is dying.  The liturgical prayers of the Church which commend a dying person to God are quite beautiful, but it is hard to appreciate their beauty under the circumstances. 

There is one thing that those prayers have in common: mercy.  In the Church, we can debate for days, months, years, or even millenia about beliefs and doctrines about God, but in the end, on our deathbeds, what we cling to is God's mercy. So, today's quote is from Elder Epiphanios of Mount Athos:

"I am not afraid of death.  Not, of course, because of my works, but because I believe in God's mercy."

(From p. 73 of "Precious Vessels of the Holy Spirit: The Lives & Counsels of Contemporary Elders of Greece" by Herman Middleton).

Alice from the Brady Bunch - a New Monastic!

Like virtually every other child growing up in the 1970s, I watched "The Brady Bunch" on TV.  Most of the attention on the show was on the Brady family, but the loyal housekeeper, Alice, was always there, ready to help.  As you may have read in the news, the woman who played the role of "Alice", Ann B. Davis, recently died at the age of 88.

Since her death, I have learned that in her post-"Brady Bunch" years, she lived something like a "new monastic" life in the Episcopal Church.  "New monasticism" is a term which has been thrown around the past few decades to describe a quasi-monastic renewal in the Church.  Many decades ago, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote about the need for a new kind of monasticism in the life of the Church: “The restoration of the church will surely come only from a new type of monasticism which has nothing in common with the old but a complete lack of compromise in a life lived in accordance with the Sermon on the Mount in the discipleship of Christ." 
 
"New monasticism" has taken various shapes, but it is primarily a movement among the Christian laity.  The typical focus is on service to the poor, and while the rules of the traditional monastic orders do not apply, the "new monastic" movement also involves groups of people coming together to pray.

How does Ann B. Davis fit into this movement?  A "People" magazine article from 1977 (shortly after the end of the "Brady Bunch") stated:

"Ann B. Davis, the wisecracking housekeeper of TV’s Brady Bunch, has joined a new bunch—a religious commune in Denver. At 51, Davis, who also played Schultzy on the ’50s Bob Cummings Show, gets her Rocky Mountain highs with 6:30 a.m. Bible study. “I was tired of show business—tired of running around with my head cut off,” she says. Born an Episcopalian, Davis practiced her faith but “with little understanding of it.” She often found herself alone with a drink after a hard day of rehearsing or during layoffs between series. In 1974 when she was playing summer stock in Denver she met Episcopal Bishop William C. Frey and his family, who were planning to bring together several families under one Christian roof. “I decided to sell my house in L.A. and yield control to the Lord,” the unmarried Davis says. She and 19 others, aged 3 months to 69 years, now occupy a remodeled Victorian home." http://www.patheos.com/blogs/tinseltalk/2014/06/ann-b-davis-aka-alice-from-the-brady-bunch-left-hollywood-for-faith-i-was-born-again/

 In 1994, she described her new life in an interview given to the Orlando Sentinel:

"For the next several years, she spent most of her time, three or four days a week, giving (her) Christian testimony. It was very exciting, while also doing laundry at a homeless shelter. She didnt work except to perform in an occasional Brady Bunch special or television commercial. Three years ago, she moved with Frey and his wife to Ambridge, Pa., near a seminary. She began working in theater again. These days Davis spends free time 'stuffing my head with wonderful things', such as courses in church history, the Old Testament and gender roles in history at the Episcopal School for Ministry."  http://articles.orlandosentinel.com/1994-02-06/news/9402030951_1_brady-bunch-brady-family-christian-testimony

While I obviously have a certain fondness for traditional monasticism, as set forth in the Rule of St. Benedict, the "new monasticism" spoken of by Bonhoeffer, and exemplified by Ann B. Davis, may have a vital role in the renewal of the Church.  So, thanks be to God for Ann, and for all who are setting an example for the rest of us who are struggling to follow the way of Christ in our new, post-Christendom, world.

Interior Prayer (Monday Morning in the Desert)

Yesterday during worship, our Gospel reading was from John 17:1-11, and it contained what is known as the "high priestly prayer" of Jesus.   It is a prayer which emphasizes the unity of Jesus with God the Father, as well as our unity with each other and with Christ.

As I have discussed before, the Carthusian order of monks is perhaps the closest thing we have in the Western tradition of the Church to the Desert Fathers and Mothers.  The Carthusians teach that our ability to pray comes from the unity we have with Christ, and through the power of the Holy Spirit, our Advocate:

"Prayer is the respiration of our being, hidden with Christ in God. It is silence of the mystery that we are; or cry of the hope of things unseen, of a waiting which is not yet fully consummated.  At such times, prayer rises from the depth of our heart, revealing to us who we are: a prayer that comes from beyond us, and yet which is within us, a prayer which is the manifestation of a love and a will which are mysteriously at one with God, and supremely efficacious.  This is the work of the other Advocate promised by Jesus (John 14:17)."

(From the book, "Interior Prayer" by an anonymous Carthusian, translated by Sister Maureen Scrine, p. 80).  

Ascension Day

A year ago on Ascension Day, I wrote these words on this blog:

"One of the things I hope to do in coming years at my congregation is to have an Ascension Day service, as it us unfortunately one of the least remembered festival days on the church calendar.  An important part of establishing a Benedictine ethos in a parish would be to observe all major festival days, regardless of what day of the week they fall on.

These words from St. Augustine emphasize the continuing importance of the Ascension event in our lives as Christians: 'Today our Lord Jesus Christ ascended into heaven; let our hearts ascend with him. Listen to the words of the Apostle: If you have risen with Christ, set your hearts on the things that are above where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God; seek the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For just as he remained with us even after his ascension, so we too are already in heaven with him, even though what is promised us has not yet been fulfilled in our bodies.'"

From http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2013/05/ascension-day.html

Well, a year later, we had an Ascension Day service in our newly renovated chapel this morning, and we will have another one tonight at 7:00 p.m.  Thanks be to God!

Holy Places

When I was a boy, I accompanied my grandmother on Memorial Day to different cemeteries near our home in rural Southwest Iowa.  Each year, she lovingly tended to the flowers and bushes surrounding the graves of her parents, grandparents, and other members of our family. One particular cemetery that we visited each year always intrigued me, as it was seemingly located in the middle of nowhere, miles down a gravel road, far away from the nearest town. The cemetery is called Highland, and it is on the site of a long-forgotten Methodist church, the only remnant of which is the steps.

Less than a hundred graves exist at Highland, and the last person was buried there over thirty years ago.  Vandals have damaged many of the graves, but it remains a place of serene beauty in the Iowa countryside.

Despite its beauty, the graves of Highland serve as a stark reminder of how life was often cut short before the age of modern medicine.  One of the graves that my grandmother tended to at Highland was the final resting place of her mother, who died during a typhoid fever outbreak in the early 1900s.  Another grave that always fascinated me was that of my great, great, great uncle, a Civil War veteran named Thomas Barhan.  He served in the 102nd Illinois Volunteers, a unit which saw action throughout the South, including Sherman's March to the Sea.  Unfortunately, those brutal battles would not prove to be the last time that he would be an eyewitness to tragedy.  Next to his grave are the stones of his thirteen year old daughter and one year old son, Ralphie, whose marker states: "Budded on Earth, to Bloom in Heaven".

Despite what they went through, the people of Highland nevertheless came together faithfully to worship in this place, and to take care of one another. My grandmother used to tell me stories of how their neighbors and relatives stepped in to take care of her when she was left without a mother at a young age.  Despite suffering personal tragedies beyond comprehension, they believed that they had not been abandoned. God had entrusted them to this  little community, where they were loved and cared for, no matter what they were going through. 

On Memorial Day this year, I returned to Highland with my father and my oldest son, and I got the same feeling that I did when I visited there with my grandmother thirty years ago - the feeling that I was standing on sacred ground, where Heaven and Earth are not far apart.  In the Celtic Christian tradition, these sacred spots are known as "thin places", where God's presence can be felt despite the passage of time:

"There is a geography of holy places, the places where the saints have dwelt.... Places whose beauty has been revealed by lives which have been open to God in such a way as to show that this world is not a system closed upon itself.  These are places whose power persists through centuries of indifference and neglect to be revealed again when men are ready for it.  Places which display the potential holiness of all this earth which man has loved so much yet so much ravaged."

(From p. 20 of "The World is a Wedding" by A.M. Allchin).

The Desert in Modern Times? (Monday Morning in the Desert)

The lives of the ancient Desert Fathers and Mothers seems highly peculiar to 21st century people. A life defined by silence and prayer? Who has time for that?  Who would even want to do that?

Certainly, this kind of life is not for everyone.  God calls people to a variety of vocations in life, and for most of us, those vocations revolve around "regular" jobs or family life.  Contrary to modern reason, though, there are people who are called to live a life of silence and prayer now.  But, instead of living in the deserts of ancient Egypt, they live around us in houses or apartments, both in cities and in rural settings.

A modern day Desert Mother is Sister Verena Schiller, an Anglican who lives a solitary life in northern Wales.  She wrote a book about her life, and it contains this passage on why God has called some to solitary lives of prayer and silence in the midst of modernity:

"In our twentieth/twenty-first century western world, we no longer live in a society like that of early antiquity when almost all were believers of some sort and lived in a climate where faith in God or gods was almost universal.  To be a believing active Christian in our age was in itself becoming more rare.  And yet, and yet.... the thirst for things spiritual was very much in evidence, a thirst for a meaning to life beyond the excessive materialism and need for instant gratification so prevalent in our society at present. Many feel as though they are staring into an abyss.  Deep in the human psyche lies the longing for whatever we may mean by 'God' and many harbour a great fear that death might mean 'extinction'.  Deeper still lies this search for meaning.  For me it seemed that at least in part, the renewal of the eremitic life (life of a recluse in the desert tradition) in recent years was an aspect of this thirst. There was a sense of urgency that in a world that was changing so rapidly and seemingly intent on destroying itself, the times were urgent.  The counter-cultural intent of monasticism needed to regain its cutting edge.  So my move into solitude began to take shape."

(From p. 7 of "A Simplified Life" by Verena Schiller).

(An image from the area of rural Wales where Sister Verena lives, from an article about her located at: http://www.churchtimes.co.uk/articles/2010/15-october/faith/solitary,-but-not-unguided).


Some may ask: "But what do people like Sister Verena do, really? Aren't they just seeking an escape from the world?"  My response is that they are living more deeply in the world than those of us who supposedly live in the "real world" can possibly imagine.  While we are working, playing, eating, or sleeping, there are modern day Desert Fathers and Mothers praying for you, me, and the whole world. They take no breaks or vacations from prayer.  It defines who they are - they could no more give up prayer than you or I could give up breathing.

The Church, particularly in the Western world, is in the midst of a transition, and we are struggling to figure out our place within a society where belief in God is an afterthought at best. As a part of that transition, I believe the Church needs to identify and lift up those people, few as they may be, who have a calling to live a life defined by prayer.  Their prayers will lift up those of us who struggle, who hurt, or who do not know of God's presence in their daily lives.  So, as they pray for us, we should pray for those called to that life as well, that God may give them the strength to pray without ceasing for the Church, the world, and all of creation.

Interior Silence (Monday Morning in the Desert)

As I have written about previously, I think it is important for Christians to experience intentional periods of silence (http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-spirituality-of-silence.html).  But peace and quiet is only one aspect of silence in the life of a Christian. 

Our thoughts can reflect the pace of modern society - our minds jump around from one subject to another, from subjects such as our "to do" list for the day, to mental images from our past, and thinking about news events we have learned about through the media.  So, even though we might be in a place where there is silence around us, we are not truly experiencing silence, because we lack interior silence.  Our racing minds can sometimes prevent us from being aware of the presence of God in our lives. 

A modern day monk who lives at St. Anthony's Monastery, in the deserts of Egypt, spoke about the difference between exterior and interior silence:

"First of all, there are kinds of silence.  There is silence and there is silence.  Silence can mean not speaking; you are going to stay in a place that is quiet.  This is helpful. It's nice to go into a nice forest or a nice garden where you are away from traffic and from talking with people, where you are away from the demands of the modern world.  But this is an exterior silence -- which helps you breathe slowly, to enjoy aesthetic pleasure, the beauty of creation -- but it is transient; it will not last. 

There is another type of silence, which is interior silence. Now this is much harder to find, but it is long-lasting.  For example, memories.  Here we are living in the desert; here I am living up there in the mountain.  For long periods of time -- two weeks, three weeks, one month -- I don't see any people.  I'm not committing sins of action daily.  I'm just sitting quietly and working and praying and being alone.  What about my mind? My mind can range everywhere.  If I don't have interior silence, I can be as busy in mind as if I were in New York."

(From pp. 34-35 of "Mysteries of the Jesus Prayer: Experiencing the Presence of God and a Pilgrimage to the Heart of an Ancient Spirituality" by Norris Chumley).

There is no magic pill which will get us to experience interior silence.  Ancient spiritual disciplines, such as lectio divina and praying the Jesus Prayer, are helpful practices - but our efforts, on their own, will not attain interior silence.  The kind of silence that helps us to become aware of God's presence around us is a gift - a gift we can ask for through prayer, and when it is received, we cannot take credit for it, but only give thanks.

Freedom (Monday Morning in the Desert)

When I think of what "freedom" means, I usually think of those freedoms guaranteed by the United States Constitution, which I swore to uphold when I was sworn in as an attorney.  Specifically, I think of the freedoms set forth in the Bill of Rights (freedom of speech, religion, assembly, etc.).  But as a Christian, "freedom" has a different meaning.   A monk of Mount Athos, St. Silouan, had this to say about freedom:

"People generally seek freedom in order to do what they like.  But that is not freedom, but the power of sin over you.... True freedom means constant dwelling in God."  (From p. 65 of "St. Silouoan the Athonite" by Archimandrite Sophrony).

In other words, Christian freedom should not lead to a self-absorbed lifestyle, nor a faith which is all about "just me and Jesus".  Christian freedom means that through grace, we have been reconciled with God, and because of that, we have been freed from the captivity of sin to willingly serve God and our neighbors.  Luther summed up the paradoxical nature of Christian freedom when he stated: "A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none.  A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject of all, subject to all."  

Love Alone (Monday Morning in the Desert)

Churches that are descended from the Reformation like to use the word "alone" a lot - "faith alone", "grace alone", "Scripture alone", "Christ alone", and "glory to God alone".  During online discussions about the Reformation, I've seen these five "solas" (Latin word for "alone") critiqued in a sarcastic, yet perceptive fashion: If these things are supposed to be "alone", why are there five of them? 

Well, I'm going to muddy the water further through this morning's quote from a modern day Desert Father, Elder George of Mount Athos, by adding another "alone" - "Love alone".  Elder George said:

"Love all your fellow men, even your enemies.  This is the most basic thing.  Always love not only those who love us, but also those who hate us.  Let us forgive them and love them all even if they have done us the greatest evil; then we are truly children of God.  Then our own sins are also forgiven.... Always preach love.  This is the most basic law of God: love and love alone."

(From p. 189 of "Precious Vessels of the Holy Spirit: The Lives and Counsels of Contemporary Elders of Greece" by Herman Middleton).

Elder George's words are directly related to the words of Jesus from the Sermon on the Mount: "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." (Matthew 5:43-44).  And, of course, Jesus directly invoked love when he answered the lawyer's question regarding which commandment was the greatest: "'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’" (Matthew 22:37-39).

Those words seem so simple, but are so hard to follow.  Pray for our enemies? It is much easier to curse them.  Love our enemies? It is much easier to retaliate against them.  Love our neighbor? It is much easier to love ourselves. 

Which message sells better in politics? It is much easier for politicians to stand up in front of a cheering crowd and preach hatred of our enemies rather than love of our enemies.  Sometimes, the language and sacraments of Christianity are distorted in order to do so (http://thefederalist.com/2014/04/27/no-sarah-palin-baptism-isnt-a-good-punchline-for-a-terrorist-joke/).  In what is perhaps the most famous attack ad in history, the word "love" was distorted through its use in a message implying "vote for me, because the other candidate will start a nuclear war" ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dDTBnsqxZ3k).

"Love alone" may not be one of the slogans of the Reformation, and it will probably never be a popular political slogan.  But if I were to be given the task of describing the message of Jesus in two words, those might be the two words I would select. 

A Mystical Renewal

One year ago this month, I started this blog, not knowing if anyone would read it.  While the number of people reading this blog isn't huge, I think there has been enough traffic to this site, and corresponding positive feedback, to verify something that I have suspected for awhile now: There is a desire among Lutherans, and members of similar traditions which arose at the time of the Reformation, to explore spiritual practices that have been minimized in our churches, even though they are a good and helpful part of our Catholic heritage.

In short, I will describe that desire as a hunger for mysticism.

Mysticism has become a dirty word in certain Protestant and Lutheran circles because there are uses of the word which are contrary to our beliefs, including some uses which are contrary to Christianity altogether. 

Mysticism can mean spiritual beliefs which blur the lines between the Creator and the created, and spiritual practices which lead to a belief that the best place to find God is by looking into yourself.  I'm not talking about that kind of mysticism.

Mysticism can also lead to a mindset which focuses on what we do for God, instead of what God has done for us.  I'm not talking about that kind of mysticism, either.

When I am talking about mysticism, I simply mean an awareness, through faith, of God's presence in our lives.  I believe that kind of mysticism is fully compatible with Christianity, as well as Lutheranism.  In fact, I would say that not only is that kind of mysticism compatible with our faith - it is necessary for our faith to be sustained.

The beliefs and practices I have written about on this blog have been related to that form of mysticism.  For example, the Jesus Prayer, lectio divina, and the daily rhythm of prayers and readings (found in the Rule of St. Benedict, and included in the lectionaries and daily prayer services in our Lutheran worship books as well as the Book of Common Prayer) help us to give thanks to God our Father, focus our attention on Christ and him crucified, and enhance our awareness of the presence of the Holy Spirit in and around us.

After all, Martin Luther himself had a profound mystical experience (commonly referred to as the "tower experience") after engaging in a period of meditation on Scripture, akin to lectio divina: 


“The words ‘righteous’ and ‘righteousness of God’ struck my conscience like lightning. When I heard them I was exceedingly terrified. If God is righteous [I thought], he must punish. But when by God’s grace I pondered, in the tower and heated room of this building, over the words, ‘He who through faith is righteous shall live’ [Rom. 1:17] and ‘the righteousness of God’ [Rom. 3:21], I soon came to the conclusion that if we, as righteous men, ought to live from faith and if the righteousness of God contribute to the salvation of all who believe, then salvation won’t be our merit but God’s mercy. My spirit was thereby cheered. For it’s by the righteousness of God that we’re justified and saved through Christ. These words [which had before terrified me] now became more pleasing to me. The Holy Spirit unveiled the Scriptures for me in this tower.”

(From Luther's Works Volume 54: Table Talk).

(The tower of the Augustinian monastery in Wittenberg where Luther was a monk).

So, thank you for accompanying me on my journey into blogging this past year.  With God's grace and help, I look forward to further exploration of the kind of Christian spiritual practices and beliefs which might help our awareness of God's presence in our lives. 

Monday Morning in the Desert - Easter Edition

Christ is Risen! Alleluia! I hope you had a blessed Easter Sunday - remember that in the life of the Church, Easter is not just one day, but a season which lasts for the next several weeks.

 Before today's quote, I will note the slight change in direction that I'm going to take in the "Monday Morning in the Desert" series.

For the past six months, each Monday morning, I have posted a quote from one of the ancient Desert Mothers and Fathers, the original Christian monks who inhabited the deserts of Egypt a few centuries after Christ. I am going to continue the "Monday Morning in the Desert" series, but consistent with what I have learned about the "desert" over the past few months, I'm going to expand the source material to those from other times and places - even modern times - who who have practiced contemplative spirituality.  After all, contemplative spirituality is about developing interior silence, not just getting away to a place of exterior silence.  In other words, the "desert" can exist at any time and place where one's heart and mind is focused on God, and is not distracted by the internal noise of thoughts, impulses, and memories which can distract us from God.  As a modern day desert father (Father Lazarus of St. Anthony's Monastery, Egypt) said: "[E]xterior silence... is transient; it will not last....[I]nterior silence... is much harder to find, but it is long-lasting... If I don't have interior silence, I can be as busy as if I were in New York."  (From pp. 34-35 of "Mysteries of the Jesus Prayer" by Norris Chumley).

So, with that in mind, today's quote is from Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh.  I've quoted him in other recent blog posts, and he is an example of someone who sought interior silence in modern times.  His book, "Beginning to Pray" is a classic of modern spirituality that has been read by Christians of many traditions. Since it is Easter, today's quote is from one of his Easter sermons:

"Christ is life and the victory of life.  In the world in which he came, death was prevalent and seemed to be all-powerful over men; when he came, he defeated death by his Resurrection.  And nowadays we live in a world full of torment, of pain, of fear, of murder, of death, and we may say: but where is the victory? The victory is in each of us, the victory is in all those of us who believe that death cannot separate us from God, that death is no longer a victory of evil over us, but a triumph of us through our faith, because death is no longer separation.....  However frightening and dark the world is nowadays, we know that victory has already been won, that God has won and that we who believe in him partake together with him in his victory."

(From p. 186 of "Metropolitan Anthony: Essential Writings").

An Act of Supreme Love

"Let us go to Good Friday, the day when Christ died upon the cross so that we may live. A Russian hymn says:

O Life Eternal, how is it that Thou art brought to the grave,
O Light, how is it that Thou art quenched.

Indeed it is life eternal that seems to go down to the grave. It is life eternal, the glory of God revealed to us in his Son that seems to be quenched, to be removed from us forever....

His death has a quality, a weight, that belongs to him alone.  We are not saved by the death of Christ because it was particularly cruel.  Countless men, women, and children throughout the ages have suffered as cruelly..... The death of Christ is unique because Jesus of Nazareth could not die.... It is not his Resurrection that is the incredible miracle.  It is his death..... Christ himself is God incarnate. United to his Godhead, his very humanity, his true humanity, is beyond death.  The incarnate Son of God makes his very flesh, his very human nature incorruptible and beyond dying.  And yet he dies....

This makes the death of Christ beyond our imagining, far beyond any suffering that we can humanly picture or experience. Christ's death is an act of supreme love.  It was true when he said, 'No one takes my life from me; I give it freely myself.'  No one could kill him - the Immortal; no one could quench this Light that is the shining of the splendor of God. He gave his life, he accepted the impossible death to share with us all the tragedy of our human condition."

(From pp. 179-182 of "Metropolitan Anthony: Essential Writings").

(Anglo-Saxon crucifixion scene, Romsey Abbey, 10th Century. Picture from the Twitter account @ClerkofOxford).

Holy Week - A Participation, Not an Observance

I'm going to take a temporary break from my "Monday Morning in the Desert" series and offer a meditation  about Holy Week from a modern-day spiritual master: Metropolitan Anthony (Bloom) of Sourozh (1914-2003).  He was not only the Russian Orthodox Bishop of Great Britain and Ireland, but a noted author of several books on prayer and the spiritual life.

Regarding Holy Week, Metropolitan Anthony wrote:

"[W]e are entering Holy Week.  How can we face these events?  I think we must enter into Holy Week not as observers, not reading the passages of Gospel that are relevant.  We must enter Holy Week as though we were participants in the events, indeed read of them but then mix in the crowd that surrounds Christ and ask ourselves, Where am I in this crowd? Am I one of those who said 'Hosanna to the Son of David!'? And am I now on the fringe of saying, 'Crucify him'? Am I one of the disciples who were faithful until the moments of ultimate danger came upon them? ....... And then we will be able to meet the day of the Resurrection together with those to whom it was life and resurrection indeed, when despair had gone, new hope had come, God had conquered."

(From pp. 172-73, 175 of "Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh: Essential Writings").