“THE WISE OLD MIRACLE-WORKER, AND THE YOUNG SKEPTIC”
“Miracle is simply the religious name for event.” (Friedrich D. Schleiermacher, On Religion: Speeches to Its Cultured Despisers.)
The story is told of a wise old miracle worker. A skeptical young man went to the old man, and demanded, “Show me a miracle, so that I may believe in God!”
Without uttering a word, the old man planted a seed in a nearby pot. Immediately the seed grew into a tall green plant. In less than a minute, the plant had produced a lovely flower.
The young skeptic was in awe. “It is a miracle!” he exclaimed.
But the wise old miracle worker looked at the young man with compassion, though his words were stern. “Young fool!” he said, “The miracle of life, and growth, and beauty is all around you all the time. All I did was speed up the process in this one case.”
Perhaps the process for all good things is a miracle. Maybe all true beauty is an amazing thing. Maybe miracles are in the eye of the beholder—like beauty.
That was apparently Friedrich Schleiermacher’s point. If you’re amazed, an event is a miracle. I don’t entirely agree with Schleiermacher. Even if no one is around to observe an amazing thing, it is still a miracle. However, I do think Schleiermacher makes a valid observation—as long as it is not pressed too far. Miracle, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.
Of course, life could be an accident, and beauty could be an illusion. However, I’ve had several accidents (automotive and other kinds of accidents as well), and I have yet to find an accident that leads to life or beauty.
I wonder what miracles will happen in my world and in yours today. I wonder if we will be aware of these miracles. Perhaps awareness itself is the one of the greatest miracles.
“Downwardly Mobile”
If I were a Roman Catholic, and if I were graced to be part of a (non?)monastic order, I think I would like to be a Franciscan. (Trappist would be a better bet for crucifying my crazy talkative tongue, but I wouldn’t last ten minutes as a Trappist.)
The reason I think I would like to be a Franciscan is that Saint Francis was so downwardly mobile.
Francis (for some reason, “Francis” sounds better than “Saint Francis” to me) was the son of a wealthy merchant. He was part of what we would call these days “the upper middle class.”
However, Francis voluntarily embraced poverty and simplicity. More importantly, Francis embraced people who were poor and simple. Francis married poverty and simplicity because he believed that this was what Jesus had both done and taught.
I, however, try to find ways around the much-too-clear implications of Jesus’ life and teachings. Of course, Jesus didn’t mean financial poverty. No! He meant spiritual poverty. Of course, there is a certain amount of discomfort with my line of reasoning in this regard—or is it a line of bologna? However, my discomfort can always be quelled by something more. (Since I just mentioned bologna, I suddenly remember that we actually have some bologna. I think I’ll go downstairs and have a sandwich!)
However, at the center of the Christian faith is a God who was downwardly mobile. Philippians 2:6-11 is a wonderful pre-Franciscan poem, either written by Paul or quoted by him.
“6 Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to.
7 Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form,
8 he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross.
9 Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor and gave him the name above all other names,
10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
It would make me feel better to end with that quote. Unfortunately, the words before and after this poem are words addressed to the church in ancient Philippi, which also speak to me. These words nail me to the cross and threaten to keep me there.
1 “Is there any encouragement from belonging to Christ? Any comfort from his love? Any fellowship together in the Spirit? Are your hearts tender and compassionate?
2 Then make me truly happy by agreeing wholeheartedly with each other, loving one another, and working together with one mind and purpose.
3 Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves.
4 Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.
5 You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.”
In other words, the introduction to this wonderful passage about God’s downward mobility in Jesus is preceded by the challenge for me to have the same attitude. I just hate it when the context of a passage from the Bible is this clear!
The verses after the poetry are equally clear and equally discomforting.
“12 Dear friends, you always followed my instructions when I was with you. And now that I am away, it is even more important. Work hard to show the results of your salvation, obeying God with deep reverence and fear.
13 For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him.
14 Do everything without complaining and arguing,
15 so that no one can criticize you. Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people.
16 Hold firmly to the word of life; then, on the day of Christ’s return, I will be proud that I did not run the race in vain and that my work was not useless.”
Apparently, Jesus’ downward mobility means that I have to stop complaining and arguing. Perhaps that is one aspect of embracing poverty and simplicity.
On second thought, I’m glad that I’m not a Franciscan. If I were, I might have to take seriously the implications of the gospel.
“LOVING GOD, MYSELF, AND OTHERS IN AN AS-IS WORLD”
Today, my twelve-step affirmation is as follows:
“Today, by God’s grace, I will do one good thing, do it as well as it deserves to be done, and then move on to the next good thing. Good things fall under three broad categories:
- Good things that express my love and respect for God directly to God.
- Good things that express my love and respect toward other people and all of creation.
- Good things that express my love and respect toward myself.”
The first and third category are the hardest to understand. What does God really need? God seems pretty self-sufficient to me.
However, God might not need anything from me, but he might enjoy some things from me. It is a beautiful dawning to what promises to be a hot summers day. I feel that God would enjoy it if I took a walk with God. So, I will!
But for me, the second category is the easiest to understand, and the most difficult to do. I like people, as long as they do precisely what I want. (They almost never do.) I like creation and reality, as long as creation and reality conform to my fantasies. (They almost never do.)
Have you ever been to a used car lot, and seen a sticker on a car that read AS IS”? That means that the car has no warranty. As the old saying goes, “Ya pays your money, and ya takes your chances!”
All of life, every day and every relationship is “AS IS.”
And God is as God is. God is abundant and complex, but God is not a smorgasbord.
The serenity prayer is well-known, even beyond twelve-step programs. However, there is a longer version that is beautifully true, though less well known. Here it is. Pray this prayer today, and I’ll try to do the same!
”
God, grant me the Serenity
To accept the things I cannot change…
Courage to change the things I can,
And Wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as the pathway to peace.
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His will.
That I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with Him forever in the next.
Amen.“
“WATCHING A MAN DIE”
“When the centurion who stood facing him saw how he breathed his last he said, ‘Truly this man was the Son of God!’” (Mark 15:39)
“I’ve watched many men die,” said the hard-bitten Roman soldier. “My men and I frequently pulled crowd control duty at crucifixions. It wasn’t pleasant watching men die slowly. It is much easier thrusting a sword through them. I’ve done that too.
“But people have to be taught who’s boss, and for better and worse, Rome and Caesar are the boss in the Eastern Mediterranean right now. A slow, painful, humiliating, public death is a wonderful reminder of who is in control.
“People who are crucified don’t die from blood loss. They die of exhaustion and asphyxiation. We place them on the cross in such a way that they have to push up with their feet in order to breathe. Eventually, when they can no longer push themselves up, they stop breathing.
“Different people don’t die the same. Some curse, some are silent, just trying to breathe, some plead. (Most of them eventually plead for death.) The one thing they all do is die—usually very slowly. One guy took nine days to die, if you can believe it.
“This man was different. For one thing, he died fairly quickly. When I reported his death to Pilate, the governor couldn’t believe it. ‘What!’ he said. ‘Are you sure?’ Oh, yes, I was sure. I had seen enough death and inflicted enough death to know. I don’t know why he died so fast. It was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. It was as if that was the reason he couldn’t push himself up any more.
“But it wasn’t just how quickly he died. It was his overall demeanor. When two of my soldiers stretched him on the cross to put the nails in his feet and wrists, he didn’t try to resist. I thought this was very odd. Sometimes, it takes four men to hold down one of the scoundrels, plus one to drive the nails. With this man, I think one could have done it with no problem. It was as if this man knew that he must die.
“Oh, yes, there was pain on his face. But there was something else that I’d never seen, except in my mother’s eyes when I was very little. I was playing with some friends, and some bigger boys began teasing us, I decided that I wasn’t going to put up with that. So, . . . I got beaten up pretty badly. When I got home, my mother looked at my bloody face with such tenderness that I nearly started crying. It was the same look that this man gave to the man driving the nails through his flesh and into the wood of the cross. I swear, this man looked at the soldier holding him down and the one driving the nails with such understanding, such compassion, with (dare I say it?) such love! I had to turn away.
“Generally, we don’t watch the people we are crucifying. We don’t need to. They’re not going anywhere. What we do is watch the crowd. Is anyone going to try to rescue the criminals we are executing? Is the crowd getting unruly? In this case, the crowd seemed more sad and confused than militant. Some women were weeping, but women do that. Some in the crowd seemed to be happy that this man was being crucified. ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish,’ I heard someone say.
“But whenever This Man spoke, I turned around. And He said some very strange things from the cross. He spoke of forgiveness. He made promises to one of his companions in crucifixion, which only a king could have made. Even when he accused his God of abandoning him, This Man called him ‘my God!’
“And his final words, with his final breath—what shall I say of them! ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!’ Somehow, it did not sound like a prayer of desperation. It sounded like a cry of triumph.
“Rumor has it that some of The Man’s followers are claiming that he has risen from the dead. I’m not sure if I believe that or not. I’m not into ghost stories.
“But I’ll tell you this: There is something strange about This Man. And if anyone deserved to be raised from the dead, it was This Man.”
“ACTION AND THINKING”
“One of the CAC’s Core Principles is: ‘We do not think ourselves into a new way of living, but we live ourselves into a new way of thinking.’” (Richard Rohr, https://cac.org/category/daily-meditations/, accessed 05-29-2016).
. . .
“Franciscan alternative orthodoxy doesn’t bother fighting popes, bishops, Scriptures, or dogmas. As stated in another of CAC’s core principles, ‘The best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better. Oppositional energy only creates more of the same.’ This alternative orthodoxy quietly but firmly pays attention to different things—like simplicity, humility, non-violence, contemplation, solitude and silence, earth care, nature and other creatures, and the “least of the brothers and sisters.” (Richard Rohr, https://cac.org/category/daily-meditations/, accessed 05-29-2016).
“Move a muscle, change a thought.” (Twelve-step saying.)
Having mused yesterday about my tendency to overvalue and too narrowly define “productivity,” I want to come in with a good word for action, especially in relation to thinking.
I often fall into the trap of thinking that thinking precedes action. In a sense, that is true—or, at least, it should be true. I do indeed need to think before I act.
However, I also need to remember that action often needs to come first. I remember many years ago participating in a class that was built on an action-contemplation model. We were supposed to do ministry tasks, and then contemplate what we had done. I hated the class!
But why did I hate the class? Perhaps I hated it because I would much rather sit around and think (and talk!) about things, rather than actually doing something. I remind me of the definition of a committee: “A committee is a group of people talking about what they should be doing.” I am a one-man committee!
What would happen, if I were to put action first? I might do some better thinking, for one thing. For another, I might get more done.
Of course, the truth is that I need to do both, moving back and forth between the two. Better action leads to better thinking, which leads to better action, and so on.
The name of Richard Rohr’s organization is “The Center for Action and Contemplation.” I suspect that, Like Rohr, I need to put action first and contemplation (and thinking) second.
Sorry to cut this post off abruptly, but I need to go do something! I’ll think about it and contemplate later.
“AM I BEING PRODUCTIVE OR WORSHIPING PRODUCTIVITY?”
“Please help him to be productive without worshiping the false god ‘productivity’.” (Paraphrase of a friend’s prayer for me today.)
Good prayer! This is an important distinction to make: being productive, versus worshiping productivity.
Part of my problem is that I define productivity very narrowly. If I get paid for doing something, and if I think it is important, and if everyone else thinks it is productive, and . . . and . . . and . . .
If my definition of productivity is this narrow, I doom myself to an unproductive day and an unproductive life.
What would happen if I were to define productivity much more broadly? What if productivity included such things as these: twelve-step phone calls, mowing the grass, exercising, really listening to my wife, cleaning the commode, smiling at someone for no particular reason? What if even a blog post is a form of productivity??
What if noticing the robin on my neighbor’s roof is productivity?
The problem is not simply my narrow definition of productivity. The deeper problem is that I worship it. And even good things, if they become gods, are not good.
One of the many ways of looking at the Old Testament Sabbath is to think of it as a reminder that productivity is not the be-all and end-all. Even God rested on the Sabbath (Genesis 2:2-3; Exodus 20:8-11). Apparently, even God doesn’t worship productivity.
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