disruptive grace

When we come to understand the reign of God as both “gift and promise, present and future, celebration and anticipation” (D. Bosh) how then do we proceed? Peterson uses the word subversive and attaches it to the word Kingdom (and also pastor). I think this is helpful. I particularly like the prefix “sub-” meaning: from the bottom up, or: from a lower level.

“… there is another world aborning that is livable. Its reality is no chimera. It is in existence, though not visible. It’s character is known. The subversive does not does not operate out of a utopian dream but out of conviction of the nature of the real world”
[from ‘The Contemplative Pastor’ Eugene Peterson

The Kingdom of God is planted in us like a small seed. This is good because if we were confronted with it full on we would resist it tooth and nail. Never the less, it is planted in us and often lies dormant until the conditions are right for it to grow. We unwittingly resist it’s growth, unaware that’s what we are doing. We are active in creating spaces that are not condusive for growth: we worry, we clamour for attention, we habour resentment, we refuse to forgive, we play games of one-up-manship, we take objects and ideas and endow them with divine qualities of our own making. Yet, amongst this we find time to be still, to give, to worship, to study, to a live lived in community, and slowly the seed begins to grow. And, though we still continue to hamper its growth with our games of self-seeking action, we find moments where we tend to the environment in which the seed was planted. Slowly we who are: selfish, self seeking, escapist, unjust and unmerciful; become, by the grace sown in us, oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord.

Keep on, keeping on.

… take for instance Paul’s letter to the Colossians. Scholars have spent a lot trying to figure out the exact nature of the erroneous teaching that captured the minds and hearts of the Colossian believers.

One of the reasons why there is so much debate over it is because Paul never directly addresses the problem. Paul’s primary way of dealing with church problems is to give God’s people a stunning unveiling of Jesus Christ. (Therein lies a valuable lesson for all church leaders.)

For Paul, Jesus Christ is the solution to all problems. And any problem that a believer or a church has can always be juiced down to one common denominator. They have lost sight of the Head, Christ. They have lost touch with the living Christ. Or to put it in Paul’s words, they have stopped “holding fast to the Head.”

[from 'Jesus Manifesto' - an interview with the authors]

I love this statement from IAM:

The world is not as it ought to be. We long for meaningful existence and involvement in our culture – to make our world a better place and to be part of a story greater than ourselves. But too often our reality is a broken and fragmented story in which value and dignity are stripped from humanity.

Art, as a universal language, can begin to address this dehumanization. The world needs artists and visionaries to lead the way in seeing beyond the trivial to the transcendent, bringing synthesis to fragmentation and hope to despair.

What if we got a parable the wrong way round, what if we got the point wrong – what would be the consequences? What we got so used to reading parables starting “the Kingdom of God is like…”, that we start to project that phase on to every parable. What if the parable actually was preceded by a comment like this:

“he [Jesus] went on to tell them a parable, because he was near Jerusalem and the people thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear at once.”

This is from Luke 19 – verse 11. Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, and hes gathering lots of interest people are getting excited because they are convinced that the Kingdom will come in a cataclysmic way. Already the dead are being raised (Lazarus) and more recently, wealth is being redistributed by the exploiters (Zacchaeus). Jesus has already explained to his disciples that whats coming up won’t be what they expect, in fact he is going to die, but they don’t understand it.

The Zacchaeus passage immediately before verse 11 is pertinent. Zacchaeus is redistributing wealth as his response to Jesus, and living out the justice expressed by the Hebrew prophets of the past. People are excited – surely this is the Kingdom come! In fact his parable is being told in Zacchaeus’ house. Zacchaeus is par of the corrupt system, if he’s bailing out there will be consequences. Jesus tells them a parable – and it has resonances with the 1st century event (documented by the 1st Century historian Josephus) of Herod, “a man of noble birth”, traveling to Rome (“a distant country”) to “have himself appointed king”. Just in case there’s any doubt Herod isn’t a good guy, ad the local Jews didn’t like him and didn’t ‘want this man to be our king.’ … So lets hear the parable:

“A man of noble birth went to a distant country to have himself appointed king and then to return. So he called ten of his servants and gave them ten minas. ‘Put this money to work,’ he said, ‘until I come back.’

“But his subjects hated him and sent a delegation after him to say, ‘We don’t want this man to be our king.’

“He was made king, however, and returned home. Then he sent for the servants to whom he had given the money, in order to find out what they had gained with it.

“The first one came and said, ‘Sir, your mina has earned ten more.’

” ‘Well done, my good servant!’ his master replied. ‘Because you have been trustworthy in a very small matter, take charge of ten cities.’

“The second came and said, ‘Sir, your mina has earned five more.’

“His master answered, ‘You take charge of five cities.’

“Then another servant came and said, ‘Sir, here is your mina; I have kept it laid away in a piece of cloth. I was afraid of you, because you are a hard man. You take out what you did not put in and reap what you did not sow.’

“His master replied, ‘I will judge you by your own words, you wicked servant! You knew, did you, that I am a hard man, taking out what I did not put in, and reaping what I did not sow? Why then didn’t you put my money on deposit, so that when I came back, I could have collected it with interest?’

“Then he said to those standing by, ‘Take his mina away from him and give it to the one who has ten minas.’

” ‘Sir,’ they said, ‘he already has ten!’

“He replied, ‘I tell you that to everyone who has, more will be given, but as for the one who has nothing, even what he has will be taken away. But those enemies of mine who did not want me to be king over them—bring them here and kill them in front of me.”

Here’s some further thoughts:

First, remember the noble man, who wants to be king is Herod (he’s a bad man getting riches and power at others expense)

Second, you don’t make returns like that on money with out some sort of exploitation.

Third, “the cloth” that the last servant uses is, in the original language, a sort of “snot rag”. Could it be that this servant is saying – ‘this is dirty money and dirty work, I’m not having anything to do with it, I won’t play in this system’?

Fourth, what happens to those who won’t play in this harsh unjust economic system? They’ll be killed. Be careful Zacchaeus, you can give away the tax money and that will make you great in terms of the Kingdom of God, but the current ruling powers won’t like it.

Bang!

What if our alternative reading of this parable, popularized in the era of western capitalism – in fact exposes our very un-righteousness?

Ouch!

[note]
N.T.Wrights response is, if this is the case then the story ceases to be a parable, and takes on more of the form of a moral tale. Perhaps, says Wright, Luke does work this way, but we need more work on this. It will be interesting to see how investigation of this text continues.

If you want a provocative talk about justice and here where I got these thoughts from, check out:

Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat ‘Outside of a Small Circle of Friends’: Jesus and the Justice of God
view Flash video | download MP3 audio | download MP4 video

Only those who walk the paths know more than maps;
Only those who enjoy the Presence can truly talk of God.
(David Adam, Walking the Edges)

Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John. But John tried to deter him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”

Jesus replied, “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this to fulfill all righteousness.” Then John consented.
As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”
Matthew 3:13-17

I love this passage. This marks the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. Up to this point Jesus has, as far as we know, lived an ordinary 1st century Palestinian life. The gospel don’t record him doing any big work or achieving anything. And it is at this point the Voice of heaven says, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” This is grace. As I reflected on this it reminded me of this passage from Marilynne Robinson’s ‘Gilead’, in which an aged dieing father writes a letter to his very young son.

“I’d never have believed I’d see a wife of mine doting on a child of mine. It still amazes me every time I think of it. I’m writing this in part to tell you that if you ever wonder what you’ve done in your life, and everyone does wonder sooner or later, you have been God’s grace to me, a miracle, something more than a miracle to me. You may not remember me very well at all and it may seem to you to be no great thing to have been the good child of an old man in a shabby little town you will no doubt leave behind. If only I had the words to tell you.”

I’m reminded to live in this grace, by receiving it from the One who gives so recklessly and seeing the gifts of grace in my friends and family. “I’m writing this in part to tell you that if you ever wonder what you’ve done in your life, and everyone does wonder sooner or later, you have been God’s grace to me, a miracle.” Thank you.

The following is a poem by one of my favorite poets.

The Real Work
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
?we have come to our real work,?
and that when we no longer know which way to go?
we have come to our real journey.?
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
?The impeded stream is the one that sings.

Wendell Berry

I’ve been reading Thomas Merton this week and found both helpful and challenging. I love this quote in particular:

“… in the the spiritual life there are no tricks and no short cuts. Those who imagine that they can discover spiritual gimmicks and put them to work for themselves usually ignore God’s will and his grace.”

This reminds me of a poem I wrote a few years back, earlier on in my journey of contemplative prayer. It contains a beginners wisdom that I been in danger of loosing, and perhaps have already allowed to fade.

Clearly there is an influence of Eugene Peterson with in this poem who I continue to find helpful with his timely wisdom on the spiritual life. Spirituality, Peterson reminds us, is interested in what God is doing not what we are doing. What we do has some importance, but it is not the focus. A good spirituality asks “What is God doing and how can I get in on it?” To do this is to cultivate a beginners mind. “We do not want to be beginners.” Merton notes, “But let us be convinced of the fact we will never be anything else but beginners.”

Richard Foster recommends an exercise which fits well with this. He suggests spending time listing your personal list of ’spiritual tricks’. He asks; “Which magical methods have you relied on in the past, or used as a way of manipulating God?” Could it be that we even manage to use good practices in manipulative ways? “Look God, I’m saying this, singing that, reading this, doing that! Meet with me!” Merton reminds us that the life of prayer and meditation is not one of ‘methods’ and ’systems’ (though we may learn many helpful ways), but rather is is the cultivation of an attitude of: faith, openness, attention, reverence, expectation, supplication, trust and joy.

Guard your steps when you go to the house of God. Go near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools, who do not know that they do wrong.

Do not be quick with your mouth,
do not be hasty in your heart
to utter anything before God.
God is in heaven
and you are on earth,
so let your words be few.

Ecclesiastes 5

Paul posted a provocative quote from Dan Siedell this week. It offers a helpful continuation from my last post. The discipline of hidden-ness is important, but not to the extent of mediocrity, hidden-ness may be unseen, but it can still be a life will with love, passion, and compassion (‘to suffer alongside’) . The stories of old (and in fact all great art) stir our souls because they contain, as N.T. Wright puts it, ‘the echos of a Voice’ — echos that whisper of justice, relationship, spirituality, and beauty. Dan Siedell suggests this:

Let me suggest that neither “Christianity” nor “culture” per se make modern society uncomfortable. It is the self-sacrificial and uncompromising pursuit of greatness and quality in these practices, a life singularly devoted to them, which condemns the virtues of contemporary professional and personal life: compromise, mediocrity, and personal comfort that makes modern society uncomfortable.
…
Are we now too sophisticated, too enlightened, too iconoclastic to believe in the myths of great art, great culture, even the possibility of a great life devoted to Christ? We’re not humble. We’re cowards.

We need courage in this journey of culture making, just as we need humility, for we are never fully aware of the implications of our actions or our artifacts. What we do may be noticed by thousands, or by only our closest friends. We must continue to have to courage to continue and create. Dan Siedell again:

The production of great culture, great art, cannot be separated from the risk of failure. Most writers, musicians, poets, and artists do not produce great art, great culture, even if they enjoy successful careers. And even those poets, artists, and musicians who have, do not produce it very often. Do we have the courage to fail, to push ourselves to the point of failure, to assume we probably will fail to produce great art, great culture and still try? … Do we have the courage to produce culture that transcends those rules, which perhaps even changes the rules of the game, or render conventions irrelevant?

Herman Melville died convinced that Moby-Dick was a failure. And most of the literary critics of his time agreed with him. As we curry the favor of contemporary critics and book reviewers, bristle at negative reviews or fawn over those who praise us, it would be a useful exercise to read those initial reviews of Moby-Dick.

“Herman Melville died convinced that Moby-Dick was a failure.” – Yet he produced and published and allowed his novel to exist. He died, (I speculate) with perhaps many believing he had “no great thing… only small things with great love.” We must live likewise.

On that line, I stumbled on this prayerful poem attributed to Sir Fancis Drake this morning:

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
with the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wilder seas
Where storms will show Your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.

We ask you to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push back the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

This we ask in the name of our Captain,
Who is Jesus Christ.

Here’s to dreaming. Here’s to failing. Here’s to being unnoticed. Here’s to continuing anyway. Here’s to hpoe. Here’s to courage. Here’s to love. Here;s to lying in gutters and looking at the stars.*

“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining towards what is ahead, I press on towards the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenwards in Christ Jesus.” **

* – with thanks to Oscar Wilde.
** – from Philippians 3

The temptation to be jealous of others spiritual adventures is great. Many of us want to do big things for God. Big things that people will talk about and remember. Yet we must keep in mind the discipline of ‘hiddeness’ (which itself is caught up with the disciplines of silence, solitude and service). It is in an understanding of the importance of hiddeness that Mother Theresa was able to say “We can do no great thing… only small things with great love.”

We live in a culture obsessed with success and ways of measuring success. But success, though not being a problem in itself, is not our calling (nor primary preoccupation). We are called to faithfulness and, by the grace of God, fruitfulness. It is in this way we contribute to the on going story of God. This sounds strange in a world of self help spirituality, but as Eugene Peterson notes the interesting thing about spirituality is that it is not primarily concerned about us or what we’re doing, rather it is concerned about God and what God is doing; and then it asks the question: ‘How can I get in on it?’ It is in this that we find meaning perpose and ultimately, pleasure. As one rabbi put it: I am one letter in a sentence, in a paragraph in a book God is writing.

We must bear this in mind, or find ourselves in danger of undermining ourselves or others, and species we not always great at getting it right. This quote from Nassim Taleb’s The Black Swan made it into my in box recently: “We glorify those who left their names in history books at the expense of those contributors about whom our books are silent. We humans are not just a superficial race – we are a very unfair one.”