Why isn't a Sense that God Consecrated One Enough for the Church?

[[Dear Sister Laurel, so why isn't it good enough for God to consecrate one? Why does there need to be a canon law with the Bishop consecrating the person? If someone has the sense that God consecrated them, why isn't that enough?]]

Thanks for your questions. I have written about this several times quite recently and am not sure what else to say about the matter. I would ask you to check out the following posts and others under the labels ecclesial vocations or ecclesiality as well as canonical vs non-canonical vocations, etc: Follow-up, Who Can Live c 603? and Once Again on "Illegal" Hermits. In these posts and many others, I have focused on the distinction between ecclesial vocations and those that are not, why it is important for the Church herself to extend God's consecration to the hermit with an ecclesial vocation, what it means to belong to a stable state of life, and several other things including ministry of authority, sound spirituality, competent discernment and formation, etc. The only other dimensions I have not dealt with are that of potential self- deception and the problem of being unprepared for an authentic hermit life and perhaps incapable of living it well.

To claim one is consecrated by God in a private act may or may not be true or accurate. One may or may not have gotten it right and there is no way for the Church to verify it. (One can certainly examine the rite used and the intentions of the minister if there is paperwork to try and determine the reason for the rite. If it involved private vows, then there would be no consecration.) In any case, in the Roman Catholic Church, admission to Divine consecration requires initiation into a stable state of life where this gift of God can be verified, protected, nurtured, and governed. Because such a gift is NEVER for the individual alone, and because the vocation belongs to the Church before it belongs to the individual, the Church establishes such vocations in law and provides for the structural elements I spoke of recently that will allow them to be lived as the Church understands they need to be lived out. The discernment of such vocations is mutual, involving both the individual and the church because they are ecclesial vocations. The Church is responsible for selecting and professing those with such vocations and God works through the Church via a second consecration beyond baptismal consecration. No one can validly claim God consecrated them in the RCC unless this Divine consecration is mediated to the individual through and in the hands of the diocesan bishop or, in communal religious vocations, in the hands of other legitimate superiors!

If someone insists otherwise, they are at least mistaken and perhaps even deluded in this matter. There is simply no such thing as private consecration in the Roman Catholic Church. Yes, one may make private vows. Many people do! But this is not the same as consecration. Neither are private vows an act of profession. Profession is an act that includes one's dedication of oneself in avowal and the taking on of the canonical rights and obligations of a new state of life. In other words, it is a broader act than just the making of vows. Meanwhile, consecration is part of the entire rite of perpetual profession where the individual dedicates herself to God with a perpetual avowal, and God consecrates that individual as they take on the rights and obligations of this new state for the whole of their lives. 

 As I noted above, Divine consecration that is part of initiating one into the consecrated state of life is a gift of God entrusted to the Church and only then to the individual. Also, please note that this is not a matter of putting Divine consecration up against Episcopal consecration. These two belong together or there is no consecration. It is not that bishops consecrate if by that we mean they do this for some while God consecrates others! No!! God consecrates hermits, and God does so in the hands of his bishops (or other legitimate superiors when we are speaking of hermits in congregations). The Bishop is not a "stand-in" for God, as I heard it put recently. Rather, God works in and through the Church specifically in the person of the bishop by empowering him to mediate God's consecration of the individual.

Self-deception aside (somewhat), the greatest difficulty of asserting God has consecrated one privately, is that one may be completely unprepared for living out an eremitical vocation. They may not understand it and critically, they may not be able to negotiate the tension between the modern world and eremitical life that allows the hermit to be a gift to the contemporary Church and world. As I have said here many times, it takes time for both the individual and the Church to discern and form the vocations of solitary hermits. It takes probationary living out of the calling under the supervision of the Church while working with a competent spiritual director and continuing to discern. It takes study, collaboration, and deliberation; above all, it takes humility and docility. 

One must be able to be taught and consider that ultimately one really might have gotten things wrong. When someone continues to insist, "God consecrated me," apart from canon law, apart from a bishop's permission and entrusting of the vocation to one, or according to established Church structures and rites, and particularly when they do so while denigrating the need for these ecclesial elements and context or while banging on and on about how they are the ones to show dioceses and other hermits the true way hermit life is to be lived, they are unlikely to be showing either humility or docility. 

This is not the same as saying "I am convinced God is calling me to this vocation; I know it" and persisting in that even when a diocese is unwilling to profess one under this canon for the time being. One may be called to persevere in good conscience in such a situation and do this with an openness to be taught about why dioceses make the decisions they do.  In the meantime, perhaps one will also learn about ecclesial vocations and what one is proposing to take on and for whose sake!! Until and unless one does this, one is more an isolated person than a hermit. And that argues against one's having been consecrated by God (or called to this), not for it!

Walking Zeroes? On Developing Theologies and Some Thoughts about Humility

A couple of things this last week caused me to think of the way my own theology has evolved over the decades. When I was an undergraduate doing Theology, my major professor had a couple of us do presentations on various topics fairly regularly. Sometimes Toni and I teamed up, and sometimes we opposed one another debate style. (Dear God, though often a great joy, was that ever painful sometimes!!) 

Toni was really creative and she loved using props! Once, after I had given my side of the presentation in the previous session, she came to class ready to begin her side of the argument. She had a huge copy of Denzinger's with her (this reference book lists all the heretical positions the church has ever pronounced on) and began by referring to my position. She opened the Denzinger's, pointed to the page, and, looking at the class, read, [[If anyone should say (my position on Universal salvation) ANATHEMA SIT (or, let [her] be anathema)!!]] Then she snapped the book closed with finality and, looking at me with satisfaction, sat down as if the debate was finished. Professor Dwyer roared with laughter (briefly!), Toni was really pleased with herself (much less briefly), and I was pretty ticked off!! (Have I said how much I loved Toni? We were best friends!!) Anyway, today, I believe even more strongly in, and would argue even more coherently, what is called apokatastasis ton panton --- the redemption of everything, or "universal salvation".

On another day we were presenting something together on the Theology of the Cross (perhaps Paul's theology seen from a Protestant (Lutheran?) perspective). In any case, we wanted to make the point that of ourselves we are nothing at all, while with God (or even from God's perspective), we are of (almost) infinite significance! As I got to the climax of my section, namely, "Without God, we are nothing at all!", Toni unexpectedly whipped out a child's pull toy and set it on the desk in front of us as the class looked on. It was an oversized "O" from the alphabet and it had little moveable feet with a weighted cord attached to the front of the "O". When the weight was dropped over the edge of the desk, the "O" walked the length of it in front of me. Toni explained, "We thought bringing a "walking ZERO" would make the point more memorable!" (She may have said something about ME being a walking ZERO without God, but I honestly can't remember that now -- I did say how much I loved her, right? -- Nevertheless, the point was made and the class "got it"!) On that day John Dwyer also laughed, Toni was pleased with herself, and I too thought the prop and the presentation as a whole were great.

The point we were trying to "walk home" is a really important one. It is central to understanding ourselves and the love of God. Namely, without God, without the grace of God, without the powerful presence of God that summons us into existence and dwells within us, we can be thought of as nothing, and in some ways, it is appropriate to say with Catherine of Sienna that God is ALL and we are nothing. But in other ways, this is simply not true and does a disservice to both God and ourselves. At some points, this truth will not only be unpalatable but pastorally harmful. In particular, it is not a theological truth (nor an anthropological one) we can use to bash folks over the head with because of their supposed "pride". It is one we must use extremely carefully, with appropriate nuance and sensitivity so that folks we say this to truly hear the love, freedom, and promise also embodied in this sentence!!

After all, God never says we are nothing. Jesus never says we are nothing. Instead, they proclaim the delight they take in each of us; they affirm how good God sees us to be and, how incredibly and unconditionally loved we are. And they remind us that we are incomplete without God, less than authentically human without him, incapable of loving as we are called to love without the Love-in-Act that dwells in, summons, and empowers us to love in the same way. When Jesus speaks of being able to do nothing but what he has seen the Father do, when he speaks of the unity between himself and his Abba when he affirms that knowing him means knowing God and seeing him means seeing God, Jesus is proclaiming the very nature of authentic humanity; more, he is indicating that like himself, we are truly human only when we live with and from/of God.

Yes, humility is a very good thing. We all need to be humble and perhaps sometimes it is good to call others to remember who they really are. It is important to recall, however, that humility has to do with being truly grounded --- grounded in the truth of who we really are and, as it said in today's Gospel from John, where we are truly from. To say that we are nothing without God can quickly devolve into an untruth, namely that we are nothing at all!! But that affirmation lacks humility!! It is inadequately grounded in the truth of how God values, loves, and sustains us at every second and how God breathes HIS life and promise into us in the same way. It is untrue to who God creates us as and calls us to become ever more fully. So, are we all "walking zeroes"? Perhaps, without God, we would have to say this. But -- and here is the critical piece of the truth we can never forget -- who among us is really ever (objectively) without God? Who among us is not loved and held as precious, a (potential) daughter or son of God at every moment? Who among us is not called and made in some way to be, at least potentially, a light to the world? 

What do I say about that prop that served an undergraduate presentation in theology so well? It was a good prop for a theological lecture, and in some limited ways, it expressed a profound theological and anthropological truth when used narrowly and carefully, but more generally? No. Humility, a loving truthfulness about who we really are in light of God's love, says something else that focuses on the way God forms, sustains, sees, and delights in us. It has its center in who God creates us to be and the potential we embody. None of us are EVER walking zeroes. Even in our worst failures, we remain God's precious creation. Saying that is not prideful, it is pastoral; it nurtures and empowers abundant life and an authentic humanity that is decidedly not some kind of nothing but the very image and temple of God!! 

Canonical Hermits, Non-Canonical Hermits, and Humility

In light of Sunday's Gospel (re: the Pharisee and the Tax Collector in the Temple), I am pulling up some older posts on humility and maybe will write a new one as well. Peace!

[[Dear Sister, do some hermits chose not to become canonical because of their humility? I have read one hermit who chose not to do so because she wished to remain "small" and another because she wished to remain "hidden". Is there an advantage in making such a choice for these reasons?]]

Thanks for your questions. Let me define humility as I understand it and then try to answer your question about smallness from that perspective. Humility is a form of honesty, specifically, a form of loving honesty (both elements are critical here) about who one is (and who others are) in light of the way God sees us. We are humble when and to the extent we regard ourselves (or others) in the same way God regards us, neither disparaging ourselves (or others) nor engaging in self-aggrandizement. I have written here before about this and especially on the distinction between something that is truly humbling and something which is instead, humiliating. Too often in various threads of spirituality, the verb associated with humility has been mistakenly construed as 'humiliate'! But God does not humiliate --- ever! God's love humbles us. It reveals our true dignity. It raises us to the ability to see clearly and lovingly just who we and others are in light of God's own deep regard for and delight in us.

There can be many sources of the notion that canonical vocations are about pride or a lack of humility. Consider, however, that if God calls some to be diocesan hermits under c 603, it is also the case that acceptance of such a vocation might well be a wonderfully humbling experience. Surely it could be argued that God would intend any vocation to be a humbling (or humble-making) experience rooted in God's love for that person and those to whom they are called to minister in this specific way.  No? My own sense is that we tend to associate pride or arrogance with canonical standing because we often neglect to ask ourselves whether or not God calls anyone at all in this way. If a way of life represents a form of divine call, why should we assume that those who seek this specific form of life lack humility or that the way of life lacks sufficient "smallness" where another form of the vocation (non-canonical eremitical life, for instance) does not?

I participated in a couple of conversations this last couple of weeks on a list on "Hermit Vocations" --- a list apparently made up largely (but not exclusively) of self-designated hermits in the lay state. I was saddened to find the degree of judgment I did which is present regarding diocesan (c 603) hermits and the arrogance or pride they were thought to reveal simply in having sought (and been granted!) canonical standing. One opinion was that for those seeking standing in law under c 603 "was all about show" and concern with externals. It is seriously harmful to any form of eremitical life to paint them with such a cynically broad brush and I was surprised to find this response to be so immediate and, in some ways, pervasive. But, to be misunderstood is nothing new with eremitical vocations and I think the question of God's call is critical here: If canonical standing is something God wills for at least some hermits, then how can we automatically conclude that canonical standing and all it brings is something only the arrogant or prideful embrace? (By the way, please note that when folks criticize canonical hermits they tend only to criticize solitary canonical (or diocesan) hermits, not those living eremitical life in canonical communities. I wonder why that is?)

I am not certain what you are asking when you speak of advantages in making decisions in terms of "smallness", for instance, but I believe one's personal discernment can certainly benefit from being concerned with one's own personal and spiritual strengths and weaknesses and how the grace of God is working in the Church and ones own life to make the very best of these. If this means realizing that one sees diocesan eremitical life as lacking in "smallness" or "hiddenness", then it can certainly be of benefit to work through all of this with one's spiritual director. Similarly, if one is looking for a "higher" form of eremitical life, perhaps one needs to spend some time working through this aim and all that motivates it. At the same time, if one is unable to see the real value in lay (non-canonical) eremitical life, the dignity and worth of such life, then one needs to work through whatever it is that causes one to see this form of eremitical life in this way. Whenever we get into competitive ways of seeing that accent "better", "superior" or "lower", "meaner", etc, it is time to take real care regarding what is going on in our own hearts.

That said, it is important to also ask if there are ways each form of eremitical life challenges the other to greater authenticity. For instance, canonical standing calls hermits to understand that the eremitical vocation belongs to God and the Church, not to the individual. It calls hermits to find ways to embrace, live, and express the truth that eremitical life serves others from within the Church --- whether or not the vocation is technically an "ecclesial" vocation or not. Canonical standing emphasizes the place of mutual discernment and formation, both initial and ongoing, and the necessity for regular spiritual direction and participation in the sacramental life of the church. It does not allow one to substitute license for genuine freedom. It stresses the need for a Rule, a vision of how one is to live the life and a commitment which binds in conscience and as well as in law, and which affirms what is foundational and what is not. Lay (non-canonical) eremitical life reminds hermits of the roots of eremitical vocations in the life of the Church, the profound prophetic character of hermit vocations as typified by the Desert Abbas and Ammas --- and others throughout the history of the Western church. These two forms of solitary eremitical existence should be in conversation with one another, NOT in competition.

 There are temptations associated with each form of eremitical life. For instance, it is true that canonical standing can lead to the temptation to consider canonical hermits as "better" hermits than non-canonical hermits. This particular temptation needs to be assiduously eschewed and that may require one learning to see oneself merely as called to one valid form of eremitical life rather than another equally valid form. If one has a problem with pride, for example, then perhaps that is a good reason for one's diocese to require one to live as a hermit without the benefit of canonical standing until one appreciates the way God works in and through lay or non-canonical hermits. Even so, the conversations I have recently had remind me that non-canonical hermits can easily fall into the same trap -- that is, they can easily believe they are "better" hermits than canonical hermits because, for instance, they are more like the Desert Abbas and Ammas who did not have (and of course could not have had!!) canonical standing (institutional standing and support in law), or are (supposedly)  "smaller," or "more humble," or more "hidden."

But to get back to your questions and what I began this post with, namely, an understanding of humility, in all of this we need to recognize that real humility does not engage in such a competitive way of characterization and discourse. Real humility recognizes that both canonical and non-canonical eremitical life can be rooted in the call of God;  though they differ in their relative canonical rights and obligations, both have all the dignity and importance of true vocations of God and both can reveal the tremendous diversity and freedom of eremitical life. It seems to me that one could discern a vocation to hiddenness and to public vows/canonical standing. One has to be certain of one's own motives and discernment but there is no reason to necessarily conclude God cannot call one to smallness, hiddenness, AND to canonical standing. He has and continues to do so.

Why is imagining Star Trek Stories Easier than Imagining the Ascension?

[[ Hi Sister Laurel, in your post on the Ascension you said that it was difficult for us to believe that Jesus was raised bodily into "heaven". You suggested it might be easier to imagine the Star Trek story as true instead. I wondered why you said that. Thank you.]]

I appreciate your question. Thanks. We humans tend to draw distinct lines between the spiritual and the material and often we rule out any idea that has the two interpenetrating the other or being related in paradoxical ways. We simplify things in other ways as well. For instance, do you remember when the Soviet Cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin first orbited earth and made a pronouncement that he had now been to space, had looked and looked for God and did not find him? The notion that God's relation to the cosmos was other than as a visible (and material) being among other material beings present in "the heavens" was completely beyond this man's ideology or imagination. The idea of God as Being itself, a being that grounded and was the source of all existence while transcending it all was simply too big an idea for this Cosmonaut. Imagine what he would have done with the notion that everything that exists now exists or is on its way to existing within the very life of God! (Gagarin is now said never to have affirmed this; instead Soviet authorities did and used his flight to do so.)

Another example might be better. When I was young, I went to a Christian Scientist Church and Sunday School. There, every Sunday we recited what was called, "The Scientific Statement of Being". It was a bit of neo-Platonic "dogma" written by Mary Baker Eddy. It was the heart of the faith: [[There is no life, truth, intelligence, nor substance in matter. All is infinite Mind and its infinite manifestation, for God is All-in-All. Spirit is immortal truth; matter is mortal error. Spirit is the real and eternal; matter the unreal and temporal. Spirit is God, and man is his image and likeness. Therefore, man is not material; he is spiritual.]] By the time I was seven or eight I was questioning what it meant to say matter is unreal (or, more often, how could I be asked to deny the truth of matter's reality). Imagine what it was like to fall off your bike and tell yourself the blood and pain was "unreal" --- only Spirit is real. 

The answers never satisfied, but I think you get the point. The human mind has always had difficulty not drawing a distinction between the material and the Spiritual even to asserting the two things are antithetical --- even to the extent of denying either matter or spirit actually exists at all.  (Christian Science said matter was unreal, not just in the Platonic sense of being less real than the ideal, but in the sense of asserting that materiality is delusional; on the other hand, contemporary science often says anything except matter is unreal.) An incarnate God, or a God who would make room within his very life for embodied existence like ours (in whatever form that embodiment occurs) would be anathema and literally inconceivable to either of these! So yes, we often suspend disbelief in reading science fiction or fantasy literature in order to enter deeply into the story. But what is also true is that we need to learn to suspend disbelief in intelligent ways in order to appreciate the Mystery of God and the cosmos; we need to do this in order to enter deeply into this great drama. Star Trek's stories may seem easier to believe than stories of the Ascension because the Mystery we call God is greater than anything we can create or even imagine ourselves.

One last point. When I was studying theology (either BA or MA) my professor answered the question, "What do I do if I cannot believe in God?" His answer was, "I would encourage you to act as though it (God's existence) is true and see what happens." My own objection at the time was that that would be encouraging people to engage in pretense, not real faith, and John responded further, " Perhaps it seems like that superficially, but what would really be happening is that one would be opening oneself [or remaining open] to allow those things that God alone can do." Another way of saying this is to affirm, one would thus be refusing to close oneself to the Holy Spirit. Once one allowed this openness, one would then compare the differences in one's life before such an openness and afterward. I didn't find John Dwyer's initial answer much more convincing then than I found the Christian Science answer re: matter's unreality when I was 7 or 8 yo, but I also mistakenly thought my faith was strong and sufficient. 

I now know that learning to trust (and to be open to Mystery) in the way John described is both more difficult and more intelligent than any cynical skepticism scientific materialism offers us today. And one grows in faith (thanks be to God)! I have experienced things in my life which God alone could do, and I recognize the wisdom (and the humility!!) of John Dwyer's advice to students believing they were atheists or that faith was naive, namely, that they suspend their disbelief, open themselves to new ways of seeing, and see what happens. Of course, this specific form of suspension of disbelief would result in a vocation to commitment to a world itself called to be something ever greater than even the limitations of science can imagine. What is often difficult for us is to understand is that this specific suspension of disbelief is more profoundly wise than science itself can know, or our often-earth-bound imaginations can create.

 Authentic faith, (which, again, is not the same as naive credulity), is something different, and in some ways, both more challenging and compelling than the more superficial suspension of disbelief we adopt when we read science fiction or fantasy literature. The essential difference, I think, is that the first type of suspension of disbelief is a form of chosen naivete adopted temporarily for the sake of recreation and enjoyment; it allows us a vacation from reality, while exercising imagination in the service of creativity. This certainly enlivens us. The second type of suspension of disbelief, that of faith, while also exercising imagination in the same service, requires more than our imagination. It is neither naive nor credulous and requires the whole of ourselves in a more direct commitment to enlivening others; as a result, faith opens us to a more intense and extensive commitment to reality itself and is simply more difficult.

Come Down and See Who I Really Am!

The Gospel reading today is the story of Zacchaeus and Jesus. Zacchaeus who is short in stature wants to know who this man Jesus really is and climbs a tree to get a good look at him as he comes by. Perhaps Zacchaeus had heard some fascinating stories about Jesus; perhaps he had seen him heal, teach, or preach, and wanted another good look at him. Maybe he was just a bit intrigued and curious, but it is more likely given his choice to climb a tree that he was in touch with his heart enough to know that in this man was an answer he had longed for his whole life; I believe Zacchaeus sensed that Jesus could address needs Zacchaeus' relative wealth and status just couldn't address. We don't know the details of his situation --- as we often don't with Bible stories --- But this makes it possible for us to can read ourselves right into the text and find ourselves in that tree overlooking Jesus' route waiting for him to come by.

Or would we be too embarrassed to find ourselves up a tree looking for some relatively grungy Galilean with his rag tag following --- even when this man might be God's Chosen One? After all, what Zacchaeus did in climbing a tree was akin to the Father in the parable of the Prodigals (both Sons and the Father are prodigal in their own ways) when he runs (runs!!) to meet his lost younger Son. No oriental man would have compromised his dignity and standing in such a way, any more than they would have climbed a tree to see a status-less itinerant Jewish preacher! Such an act would have been shameful and in a culture where honor was the currency that made everyday living meaningful, it would have been incredibly costly for Zacchaeus. I know today some folks shame others by calling them "fanatics" or "Jesus Freaks" (no, this term has not gone away!), or with their questions and comments. "Why do you pray that much?" "He is a failure in life so he turned to religion." "Why do you come early to Mass?" or "Why do you put your confidence in such fairy tales as the life, death and resurrection of a man called Jesus?" Our culture may not turn on honor and shame but we are not unaware of its influence!

So Zacchaeus the tax collector humbles himself (he was short in stature and was certainly disliked, but he also stood relatively tall in terms of wealth and power) in order to ask the question, "Who is this One called Jesus?" And the results are astounding! Jesus comes past, sees him, calls him by name, requires he come down from his perch, and invites himself into Zacchaeus' home for dinner that very night (a definite reversal of the normal "modus operandi" in this honor/shame society where invitations to dinner give honor and cannot merely be self-conferred!). The answer to Zacchaeus' implicit question is looking like it is way bigger and more challenging than Zacchaeus might ever have imagined! He wanted to know more about who this man was. Jesus shows us he is One who knows that the need for this revelation is immediate and makes clear the best context is an intimate meal setting.

The story is incredibly rich and, like Jesus' own parables, can take us in many directions. A few of these strike me: do we pay attention to our own hearts as Zacchaeus apparently did? Are we willing to act on the needs and desires we discover when we attend to our hearts and minds even if we look foolish in some peoples' eyes in doing so? Are we willing to let go of status or to humble ourselves so that God might be welcomed and embraced? Are we open to having Jesus call us by name and invite himself into our lives and homes or do we merely want to look on him from a remote vantage point? Do we want to know him and be known by him or is he just a curious historical figure we are satisfied knowing a little about about? Do we even know for sure that such a truly personal way of knowing and being known by the Risen Christ is possible? Will we open our homes to him whenever he calls or do we like to keep him in Church where encounters are more predictable and less likely to carry us outside liturgical recognizable (finite) boundaries?

 I suspect few of us would have immediately recognized, much less named Zacchaeus as a model of humility or profound wisdom but that is what he is in today's Gospel lection. For me Zacchaeus is a reminder to pay attention to all the movements of my heart and mind, and to open myself to the Christ who comes in the midst of ordinary life; he reminds me to take whatever steps I need to see, know, and be known by Christ a little better whether those around me understand their importance or not. And he reminds me that even my slightest efforts in this regard will be matched by God in Christ's love and attention. In fact, these will always outstrip my own ability to imagine what is possible. Jesus knows me and allows himself to be known by me in ways I could never have envisioned and even less expected! At the same time this part of Zacchaeus' story reminds me I must come down from any relatively remote perch I can sometimes occupy -- a perspective largely provided by personal woundedness and academic theology ---  and also allow Jesus, the One who truly knows my name (self) and desires to be truly known by me, to come home and dine with me this day and every day. Empowered by Jesus' invitation, I just have to come down to know who Jesus really is.

The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and the Poison of Shame

As we look forward to Lent the daily readings have led us through the Genesis story of the Fall. Last week we heard the entire story as the movement from a certain kind of innocence to the disastrous consequences of "eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil". Several days running portions of this narrative were repeated and teamed with NT readings in ways which underscored various aspects of the wisdom it embodied. I came away from the week understanding several things more fully and clearly than I have ever understood before. Especially, I came to understand the distinction between guilt and shame and the costly price healing shame required of our God. But also I came to understand the innocence spoken of in the stories and the terrible fall from that to the sense of either worthiness or unworthiness which distorts our ways of seeing ourselves, others, and all of creation. (see also, Their Eyes Were Opened. . .NOT!)

In the story of the Fall Adam and Eve are part of a creation which God sees as (and which therefore IS) good. Humanity (symbolized in Adam and Eve) know themselves and everything else in this light and ONLY in this light. They exist in a state of innocence, a state of essential freedom and humility. They have vocations and live those out in Divine friendship and intimacy with one another; they know themselves as God knows them, as loved and a source of delight to God. It is an incredibly responsible life untouched by thoughts of worthiness or unworthiness. (Remember, Genesis 2:25 summarizes all this by saying, Adam and Eve "were naked yet they felt no shame.") It is a life which is open to transcendence --- an openness which takes the form of obedience (an attentive responsiveness) to God and the truth he reveals. But for this reason, because an openness to transcendence stands at the heart of this life, it is also a state in which temptation is already present.

And so the narrative moves from innocence through Eve's "theologizing" as she reflects on what God has said, who he is, who she is and is meant to be --- to her complete seduction and sin. From being a person who walks humbly with God, who knows herself and all of reality only as God knows them, she distances herself from such union and begins to think about God rather than conversing with God. (It is Walter Brueggemann who points out this primordial act of theologizing in his Interpretation commentary on Genesis. It is this universal tendency to theologize (and the challenge of preparing to do theology professionally) that led to my own prayer, "God forgive us our theology, our theology perhaps most of all!")  From theologizing and temptation Eve moves to the decision to outright disobedience. She is dazzled by her new way of seeing reality and embraces it by "eating of the fruit of the tree" which is forbidden her. She trusts herself rather than God, she listens to her own "wisdom" rather than to that of God and she makes a new knowledge, a new "truth" her very own. It is a disastrous act of betrayal of God, self, and others, whose consequences will color the rest of her life and that of all of her descendents for the whole of human history.

A Vat of Blue Dye and the Inappropriate Knowledge of Good and Evil:

Consider. You are arriving early for Mass in your parish chapel looking for some quiet time with God and as you come in to sit down you find a huge vat of dark blue dye sitting in the middle of the worship space. There was a sign on the door as you entered which said you are free to do all the things you usually do to prepare for Mass, but please leave the vat of dye alone. It is good in and of itself but it is not meant for you. It will change the way you see things, set you apart, and just generally mark you as a possessor of a knowledge of good and evil which is inappropriate for you. Someone has left a small step ladder against the side of the tub; its presence is intriguing and suggestive, but its purpose is unknown. You think about the sign and examine the tub and dye. You consider what a lovely color dark blue is for you and think, "Surely this can't do so much harm as all that! Perhaps the experience would be good for me. God surely does not wish to prevent me from knowing as much as I can. After all, God made me curious! He made me to steward this world and I must experience it intimately to do that!" Slowly you climb the steps testing them for solidity, strength, and balance (are you merely pretending to legitimate curiosity and research now?). Finally, you decide to dive in and, despite the qualm in the pit of your stomach, you make the leap! At this point you have sinned and know guilt. But this is not the biggest problem by far.

When you come up out of the dye you are dismayed to find that not only is every crevice of your body stained dark blue, but that your eyeballs are too. You look around the chapel and everything looks different. Other members of the assembly arrive and two things happen: 1) they look as though they too have been stained with dye, and 2) you know they are looking at you and thinking what a sinner you are! You have begun to know shame and the influence of shame. Over the next days you get rid of the ruined clothes, scrub yourself several times and manage to remove most of the dye, but as you walk through the world you are convinced that everyone sees the remnants of blue lodged in the creases around your fingernails. You even believe that despite your clothes they can see the dye you have not managed to wash out of a few well-hidden wrinkles and crevices. You sit next to these folks at the Eucharist and you are certain they know you for the horrible sinner, the worthless person you are. Over time you come to see yourself ONLY in terms of the dye and the imagined judgments. Even more unfortunately, you come to see everyone else as less or more worthy than yourself. You imagine, in fact you are certain, that they too jumped into the vat at one time or another and have little bits of dye in hidden crevices they never let anyone see. You confess your own sin and are absolved (guilt is easily forgiven) but your shame (a much more difficult animal) remains.

You hear the Gospel story of the lepers with their bells and cries of "unclean" from today's Gospel and you think, "there I am!" When people wish you the peace of Christ or tell you how much they love you, you think, "If only they knew how stained (inadequate, unlovable, unworthy, unfixable, unforgivable, etc) I am !! But you also think, "They are as stained as I am! Who do they think they are?" You know profoundly the knowledge of good and evil which God wanted you never to know. Rather than being love-based and trusting in God's mercy, your life is shame-based. Rather than knowing the humility, the appropriate dignity of being lifted up by God's love, you know the humiliation of being cast down by what you think of yourself --- and what you believe everyone else sees and either says or would say about you if only they could see you as you "know" yourself to be. Despite the fact that the ACT of disobedience and failure to trust (the decision to leap into the vat) has long been confessed and forgiven, the shame (the touch of the blue dye) remains and the healing required is deep and extensive.

N.B.: in this section I have spoken of the vat of blue dye in terms of the consequences which occur when someone decides to jump in. The analysis of the occasioning of shame works as well when someone else has thrown us into the vat and one has no personal guilt at all. In such a case the thoughts are similar: "Everyone can see what x did to me", "Everyone will know I deserved what was done to me," "They may say they love me, but if they only knew what x did to me they'd see me for who I really am," (this is especially powerful when the one doing the injuring was a parent!) "I am sure the dye has been washed away superficially (for instance by the good life one has led in spite of their woundedness) but deep down it is still there!" "I am unworthy, unlovable, broken, unfixable," and so forth.

The Signs and Symptoms of our Need for Transformation and Healing:

I have spoken of several signs of the move to a shame-based life: 1) the shift from judging the quality of an action to judging oneself and others (the shift from guilt to shame), and 2) the shift from standing in the truth of God's love where we share the knowledge of the dignity we call humility to feeling humiliated, being cast down to this degraded state by one's judgment of self. It is significant that in the narrative of Genesis Adam and Even do not know themselves in terms of worthiness or unworthiness until AFTER they eat the fruit of the forbidden tree. That God loves them is the foundational, the defining truth of their lives until they exchange it first for guilt and then, more disastrously, for shame. (It is also significant, by the way, that psychologists see narcissism as a shame-based illness or disorder which is every bit as destructive as the horrible inferiority many know.) There is a third shift then which is central to the story of the Fall, namely, the move from self-awareness to that of self-consciousness. This shift is definitive for "eating the forbidden fruit" and is at least implicit in the other two shifts already spoken of.

Other symptoms and signs obtain as well. Fear. Fear of ourselves, of others, of revelation and exposure and so much more. A tendency to blame others, a propensity to shut ourselves away from others, to fail to risk loving, an inability to be transparent or to see others for who they are in light of God's love, a need for secrecy and an instinct to cover our guilt (the word shame has the same root as the verb "to cover"), and the tendency to overcompensate for one's perceived (and often masked) inadequacy or unworthiness by accumulating wealth, power, status, etc. God's love is the only thing that allows us to see ourselves as the same as others --- another sign of humility . Shame dictates we view them as either less worthy or more worthy than we and to do all we can to compensate one way or another. Whether we are looking at a despairing person's suicide or the narcissist's tendency to look at the poor (uneducated, etc) and say, "Who do they think they are?" we are looking at the effects of the forbidden knowledge of good and evil and the shame it brings in its wake.

Jesus, His Miracles and his Passion, the Solution to Shame:

Every healing Jesus does points beyond itself to his desire to heal the deeper and more fatal illness we know as shame. Last year I wrote that even had Jesus healed every ill person that came to him it would not have been enough.  Jesus' mission was broader and deeper than this. Jesus was not a mere miracle worker; he was the Messiah, the redeemer. Now I will add that he could have forgiven every sin ever committed, but that would not have been sufficient either. Again, his mission was the redemption and recreation of all of reality, the bringing of reality to the kind of innocence (truth) that is untroubled by shame, that knows and is known neither in terms of worthiness nor unworthiness but only itself in the light of God's love.

It is profoundly significant that the Gospel writers and Paul do not focus on the physical pain and suffering of Jesus' passion, but instead on its terrible shamefulness. While the pain he suffers is not unimportant Jesus suffers the depths of human shame, the soul murdering reality we each and all know so well. He drinks the cup of human shame to the dregs and drains the wine of isolation and alienation which separates every shame-based life from the Divine love and truth that leads to genuine freedom and fullness. He does so while remaining open to God;  through his obedience God's love,  the only solution to shame and its calculus of worthiness and unworthiness so characteristic of the fruit of the tree we should never have known, triumphs. (cf, God humbles us by Raising us Up).

Postscript:

For now I want to note that shame seems to be the missing explanatory ground of the events of the cross in almost every theologia crucis I have read. It is spoken of extensively by exegetes to illustrate what Christ himself suffered but it is not ordinarily mentioned by theologians as the cause of his condemnation,  torture, and death, nor is it usually identified as the profound universal illness that Jesus' death and his Father's subsequent vindication and resurrection of Jesus addresses. I think this is a critical deficit in our theology of the cross which is usually framed in terms of the dynamics of sin and guilt without ever mentioning shame. Given the honor-shame society which found Jesus' countercultural kingdom ministry so profoundly offensive, it is even more imperative that we understand shame rather than guilt alone as the illness he comes to heal, the scourge he comes to destroy. Paul said the sting of death is sin; we must also say clearly that the sting of sin is shame and the soul-murder it brings. Only the cross of Christ effectively addresses this whole dynamic.

God Humbles us by Raising Us Up

[[Dear Sister Laurel, I have a friend who attributes every bad thing that happens to her to the will of God. She claims that God humbles us and that sometimes he "brings us very low indeed" through all kinds of catastrophes, persecutions, and disasters. Somehow this humiliation is supposed to move the person away from sin and even let them make reparation for sin. It helps them to deal with pride and other things, but I admit that I don't really understand it. Surely God is not One who teaches lessons in this way; surely God does not will disasters and catastrophes in our lives! What kind of God would that really be? And yet, what else might be the source of unremitting tragedies and disasters in my friend's life? Is there any way to help her let go of the theology she has embraced? She reads your blog by the way.]]

God Humbles Himself and Raises Us Up:

Thanks for the question. Let me assure and reassure you both of my prayers in this situation then. I will keep both you and your friend in prayer. I admit, I do not believe that God wills catastrophes and disasters. I don't believe God humbles us by bringing us low in pain and torment. I don't accept that evil of any sort is the work or will of God. You see, God has a much more effective way of humbling us and "bringing us low". (Note the difference in the word here; humbling and humiliation are different realities.) He does so by loving us, by reminding us how precious we are to him, how there is nothing we must or even can do to change that. God humbles us by asking us to set aside all of our own preconceptions about God, our own autonomous goals and projects, our own brief forays into the world of power and influence, of status and prestige for God's own Kingdom, God's own Lordship, God's own projects and commissions. In effect God says I love you with an inalienable, exhaustive, and unconditional love; I want the best for you; you will have that by serving me; you will serve me by letting me love you and treat you as infinitely precious. This is a humbling which raises up, not a humiliation which demeans even as it brings torment and catastrophe in its wake.

In yesterday's first reading from Paul's letter to the Philippians we listened to the great Pauline kenotic hymn: God empties himself to create the world; God empties himself even further by taking on sin-stained and broken human existence (flesh) out of love for us and commitment to the coming of the Kingdom. He empties himself by accepting death even death on a cross (that is, sinful, godless death) and he does all of this so that one day all might be redeemed, reconciled, and God might be all in all. In none of this is there a sense that God's work is inadequate or that reparation for sin is something you or I must or even can make. God reveals his very nature in all of these ways, but especially in Christ via the Incarnation, passion, and resurrection. These events are not contrary to God's nature. They are the paradoxical way he exercises his divinity --- not as something to be grasped at but as something lived for and freely given to others so that they might share God's life and he theirs.


Now, it is true that God's victory over sin and death is not complete. We experience relative godlessness in many ways for God is not yet all in all. I wrote about this just recently. Sin and death, chaos and catastrophe are still present and effective in our world but not in the same way they were before or apart from the Christ Event. They have been defeated in an ultimate way and no longer have ultimate power. They will never be the bottom line (or the final word or final silence) in our world or our lives and because they cannot be these things, they have lost much of the power they had to frighten, control, and destroy. God's love has proven more powerful. That is the new bottom line, the new and definitive last word we so needed to hear. God's love has penetrated the deepest darkness imaginable and has raised Jesus to new life; it has subsequently taken humanity into itself in the Ascension. It has entered into the unexpected and even the unacceptable (the literally godless) place and established the truth of the hope that one day the victory of God over sin and death will be complete and God will be all in all.

God's Justice is Neither Distributive nor Retributive

But what we must also hear in all of this is that God's justice is NOT retributive. He does not overcome sin by punishment but by love. He does not demand we pay the price for sin, whether that which besets us or that which we commit as a symptom of the sin that besets us. The price paid for sin is God's own price, the price God himself pays; God gives himself so that things may be set right, so that justice may be accomplished. He quite literally loves death and sin out of existence just as he does with nothingness and chaos in creating all that is. Not least, he does so by taking death within his own life without being destroyed by it, but (when the Christ Event is seen from another perspective) he also does so by transforming godless reality into a sacrament of his presence among us. He does this in the world at large, he does this in our own hearts, he does it in his own heart of hearts. God's love is a love that does justice; it destroys sin and death and the demeaning violence associated with these and replaces them with God's own love and life in abundance. Wherever this happens, and to whatever extent it occurs, the Kingdom of God has arrived and we have a new heaven and a new earth which one day will be a single seamless reality.

Of course, we must allow ourselves to be loved in this way, sinners though we are. We cannot instead make ourselves judge, jury and executioner in this matter. Human beings mainly think of justice in retributive and distributive senses. We think in terms of giving others what they deserve or of exacting (retributive) punishment in the name of "rehabilitation" for instance. We even project such notions of justice onto God so that God becomes the one who punishes us for our sin, demands reparation for it (impossible though that would be -- in this Anselm was surely correct!), gives us only what we truly deserve, etc. The God of Jesus Christ, however, does not think or act in these terms, and for this reason one of the things we must let go of, one of the bits of "dying to self" we must accomplish (so to speak) involves our renunciation of the idea of a God who exacts retribution or reparation from us for sin. Again, it is humbling to think that there is nothing we can do to "make things up" to God. It is humbling to be faced with a love which is eternal,  inalienable, and unconditional. But this is the humility Christianity calls for and it is the foundation for everything else in Christian life.

This is the source of real contrition. When we realize that the only good we do is the result of a grace we can never earn while the evil we do is the result of needing to justify ourselves (which includes the need to punish ourselves or refuse God's free gift of love), we are empowered to repent, to let God be God, to accept God's love even more fully and to hand it on to others who are as helpless to help themselves as we are. The turn from self to God in this matter is the essence of conversion. We let go of the various idols we have created for ourselves (or been given by others): the God of vengeance, of course, but also the God of a justice different than one rooted in unconditional love. We allow our minds and hearts to be remade in the name of THIS merciful God, the God who empties himself and suffers for us so that sin might be healed rather than asking us to suffer in reparation for sin.

The Source of the Catastrophes and Disasters:


I don't know the immediate source of the catastrophes in your friend's life except to point in a general (and less immediate) way to sin and death, which, because of the many ways human beings choose that which is not of God, are powers still at work in our world. As Bonhoeffer pointed out during his struggle with Nazism, and as I have posted here before, [[ Not everything that happens is the will of God, but inevitably nothing that happens does so outside the will of God.]] It becomes crucial that your friend not blame God for things which are destructive or personally harmful. She must understand that there are powers and principalities still at work in this world in which God is not yet all in all. Similarly, she must understand that attributing evil to God, suggesting that God demands retribution or reparation for sin from us, substitutes an idol for the real God revealed in the Christ Event. That way would produce a terribly dark and deadly spiral in a person's life --- a spiral in which the Holy Spirit is actually rendered powerless to redeem the situation. Not only would such a position make of God a kind of Golem, (or, as one friend suggested, a Mafia Godfather kind of figure), but it would make the person who saw God in these terms far less open to the message of the Gospel of unconditional love and mercy. It would also cause the person to be open to attitudes and acts of self-sabotage and other forms of capitulation to or collaboration with the powers of sin and death in the name of a false piety.

I hope your friend trusts and listens to you, especially to your own knowledge of God because to be honest I  don't believe you will be able to get through to her otherwise. I also expect this to take time and real patience on your part. You are asking her to let go of an entire "theological" vision and to embrace a very different one --- one where she is not a victim and where the meaning in her life does not come from victimhood. Let me be clear, you (or I, in any case) use the name God in a vastly different way than your friend apparently does. You say the same sounds (God, love, justice, dying to self, conversion, humility, etc) but signify antithetically different things by them. Moreover, the God your friend believes in allows her to blame God for things which may truly be her own fault or at least the result of choices she has made which collude with death and chaos.

The degree of humility and self-emptying required of her for letting go of all of this is immense. The grace of God is present seeking to empower and heal her in this, but she seems caught (trapped or bound) in a way which reminds me of what Scripture calls the sin against the Holy Spirit. In that sin the person cannot be forgiven, not because God withholds it (he does not), but because they can no longer hear (or they otherwise refuse to ask for) the graced word of forgiveness God makes present there. When the word justice, for instance, speaks to us of retribution and the demand for personal reparation rather than of a Divine love that is entirely sufficient and sets everything to rights (thus bringing heaven to earth) then the Holy Spirit has been rendered mute and powerless by our own deafness.

Choosing Life, not death: The choice of humility rather than humiliation, victory instead of victimhood:

Unfortunately it is possible to find older theologies of reparation and retribution that support your friend in her victim stance. These tend to be psychologically and theologically discredited today. Today when we read the Scripture about "making up what is lacking in Christ's sufferings/cross" we understand that Paul is referring to allowing God's love and the new life of resurrection and ascension to fill and transform us. That work still needs to be done and if we don't allow it through the grace of God, it will not happen. The Christ Event changed reality; God can now be found in the unexpected and even the unacceptable place --- but knock, call, invite, attempt to seduce us, etc, as God might, if we are really saying yes to a different God, if we are embracing the Golem that accompanies and grounds our ultimate victimhood, then we are rendering God's Word void and making Christ's Cross of no account. It must always be remembered that Christianity is built on a singular victimhood embraced by God so that NONE OF US would EVER have to be victims again!!! Especially, we would never need to be the victims of a vindictive God whose idea of justice is that of human retribution-writ-large!!

The choices before your friend are those of humility versus humiliation or victory instead of victimhood. We are humbled and made victors (raised up to new life) in Christ by a God who loves us without condition or limit as Jesus' Abba does; we are humiliated and made victims (cast down into the depths) by a "God" (Golem) who demands retribution and reparation for our sin and thus sends catastrophes our way regularly. Here is another version of the choice put before us during Lent: Choose life not death!!! Today,  it must be said clearly, victimhood is truly the way of the world, the way of "worldliness" in all its tragedy and distortion; those who reject that which is worldly, and choose instead the Kingdom where God is sovereign, reject victimhood and any false theology that tends to make them victims rather than victors. It is my sincerest prayer that your friend can find the courage to reject the ways of the world and embrace those of the Kingdom and that you might have some small place in helping this occur!

I wish you both God's own peace, hesychia (stillness), quies, shalom!

"All My Dear Falsehoods" (Rachel Srubas)

The following poem is taken from the book Oblation, Meditations on St Benedict's Rule (Paraclete Press) by Rachel Srubas. I have used some of Rachel's stuff before here and highly recommend this book of poetry. Published in 2007 it is available on Amazon for as little as $1.27. Don't let that fool you regarding its quality! Rachel is both a Benedictine Oblate and a Presbyterian clergywoman. The poem is a reflection on the passage from St Benedict's Rule that reminds the monk:  The second step of humility is not to love having our own way nor to delight in our own desires. (RB, Chapter 7)

I am the road that will guide you to God.
I unravel lies that seduced you.
I am the life you still try to elude.
When you abandon me, 
I wait for you. When you return,
I embrace you.

Some days I prefer
to ignore your assurances,
pave my own path, lose my own way,
cross quicksand if I have to ---
anything but
relinquish my will.

Remember the blistering, narcissistic desert,
the devil who taunted you there?
You know it well --- the desire, the drive
to conceive and control, predict and prevail.
You, too, have wrestled the egoistic impulse,
the credit-hoarding greed of spirit
that flares within and keeps me,
on some days, from offering praise,
stops me from seeking your face
or following your excellent way.

I'm left to my own echoing solitude,
murmuring my own name.

Jesus, teach me to pray. Lend me your hand.
Talk to me of forgiveness until
all my dear falsehoods fall away.
Mend the cracked compass of my mind,
and guide me to my true desire.

Should Christians generally "Try to blend in?" How about hermits?

[[Dear Sister, a blogger wrote about a passage from the Office of Readings recently from a letter to Diognetus. In applying what s/he read, s/he said, [[And others, including [name], have pondered the externals in our lives in Christ. What is written approximately 18 centuries ago, seems sound. It runs counter to the ways of some in our time who dress as religious of the past several centuries, or who live their lives being noticed and in opposition to the life and culture of their environment.

This reading promotes invaluable reflection. By blending in, and the religious life remaining hidden, we give Christ the glory of His due by being Christians living in the world, yet not of it. Is this another way of describing the life of the temporal Catholic world, the visible Church, the social Church, the noticed and distinctively unusual lives--outlandish, if truthful--of some religious solitaries and groups? We may then place this externally-noticed way beside the option of remaining in Christ in the mystery of His life among us and of us subsumed in His life: the mystical Catholic world, the interior Church, the spiritual world.]] (emphasis added) I wonder if you agree with this reading of the passage? Should Christians "Blend in"? How about hermits or solitaries?]]

I suppose the main problem I see with this analysis is that the Letter to Diognetus (at least the passage from the Office of Readings from about a month ago,@ p 840 of the Easter Season breviary) says nothing about Christians blending in, but rather is concerned with the exceptional and pervasive ways Christians stand out despite their normality. While the author makes clear that it is true they do not stand out because of what they wear for everyday things, or what they eat, or because they flout civil laws, fall into ecstasies in the midst of communal celebrations, or buy into a spirituality that is so other-worldly they cannot work for their livelihoods, it is also true that at every turn they are distinguished by the extraordinariness of their lives. They marry and have children, but they protect and honor those children; they do not expose them to the elements or to wild animals and therefore to death when they are unwanted or sickly. They love all men, with a preference for the weak and poor but are universally persecuted, etc. This too is something the author makes very clear.

Remaining in Christ and living in the world means that one will be noticed in one way and another --- at least it means that in "the world" which is essentially contrary and resistant to Christ. It is not necessarily contrary to [[...the option of remaining in Christ in the mystery of His life among us and of us subsumed in His life.]] This is so because life in Christ does not necessarily mean "hidden," nor does it mean working to blend in. Especially it does not mean buying wholeheartedly into one's culture, or refusing to be counter cultural! Emphatically not !!! (If one's culture is basically contrary and resistant to Christ then one has to be counter cultural in significant ways.) But the reason one is noticed, is not due to externals pointing to a disordered or fanatical life. Christianity is eccentric in the technical ("out of the center") sense of the word, not in the common sense of being crazy or bizarre. The author to the letter to Diognetus is concerned with establishing first of all how very normal in every way Christian life is, and for that reason how truly inexplicable the hatred with which Christians are met at every turn. He is absolutely not concerned with arguing that Christians should "blend in" so they are completely indistinguishable from anyone else.

The Paradox the Author is Dealing With

Instead, he wants people to know that Christians are good, even exemplary citizens with a higher moral code than many, and that they serve much as a soul to a body in their presence within their societies. At the same time the author says no one can explain the hatred experienced from both Jews and Greeks (i.e., every non-Christian), he points out that there is a clear reason for the hatred Christians experience; namely, Christians serve to judge the world and its disorder by placing restrictions on its activities just as the soul places a restriction on the body's pleasures. They are very much contrary to aspects of the dominant culture. Thus, the author of the letter is walking the fine line of paradox and indicating that precisely where Christians live completely normal, loving lives, they also live the most exceptional and provocative lives. They are like the soul in the body or like leaven in a loaf of bread, and to some extent they will be indistinguishable, but at the same time, they will stand out because their presence imparts a character to the whole which is undoubted and undeniable. The Christian's religious life is hidden (in the sense that s/he does not ordinarily stand on street corners praying in public, etc,) but it is also supremely perceptible in the way s/he lives.

The General Truth Today

In today's world it remains the case that Christians should be the soul of the body, that we should be primarily distinguishable because of God's love of us, and our love for God and one another. We must remain in Christ precisely so we serve as yeast for the dough, light in the darkness, salt or savor in the food of life, and so forth. This "being in the world but not of it" is the very essence of the lay vocation. But within Christianity, there are specific vocations which are defined even more intensely in terms of their counter cultural nature. The solitary or eremitical vocations the blogger refers to are among these, and these lives, unlike the lay vocation, are characterized precisely by their stricter separation from the world. They are meant to be counter cultural in almost every way I can think of. Is this unusual? Yes, and it is meant to be. Is it noticed? Yes --- even when hermits are unavailable to speak about their lives, this vocation is noticed in a general way.

Hermits live lives of essential hiddenness and stricter separation from the world in part so they may address the world in the same way prophets of old addressed their cultures and world --- to call these to their truest reality, to challenge them to conversion and fulfillment in Christ. A conscious (or self-conscious!) attempt to blend in, which seems to me to include something other than an honest or transparent living out of one's Christianity in the normal incarnational way life in Christ dictates, is very far from such a vocation. Understanding, empathy, compassion, and prophetic presence which are rooted in the Hermit's honest and loving solidarity with the humanity and situation of others are another matter. The hermit must be a convincing example of the latter without falling into the disingenuousness of the former. When Paul spoke of becoming all things to all people, for instance, I think this is what he was speaking of.

Solidarity and Christ-consciousness versus Estrangement and Self-Consciousness

What I am trying to say is there is a vast difference between fitting in because in one's basic Christianity one knows on a deep level how very like every other person one is, and therefore, truly belonging in any circumstance or set of circumstances, and trying to "blend in." The first is motivated by humility and carried along by one's genuine love of others. The second is too self-conscious and seems to me to not be motivated by humility or an honest love of others. Abba Motius of the Desert Fathers says it this way, "For this is humility: to see yourself to be the same as the rest." The first is marked by the freedom of the Christian, the second is marked by its lack. The first can and will go anywhere, but will go there as a Christian (including as a Christian hermit) with all the commitments and differences that ALSO entails, the second is less about being present to and for others, and is more concerned with being indistinguishable or blending in --- self-conscious motives, both of them. Let me give you an example of what I mean.

In my town we have a small restaurant, a converted house, which is a favorite of everyone from every strata of our generally (but not universally) affluent society. On any given weekday morning one may find, especially at some of the larger tables which seat ten or more, the mayor sitting elbow to elbow with the guy who picks up her garbage, the single mother who needs government to pay better attention to her needs, the businessman who regularly leaves a $50 tip, the college student who eats there for free because the owner doesn't want her sick or starving, along with the owner of one of the local (and national) sport franchises, et al. Conversations are not strained, nor are they meant to presume on others. They are simply human. Everyone belongs, no one tries to "blend in." If the college student tried to dress up, or the mayor to dress down, or the sanitation worker to do something similar, etc, then something crucial and crucially honest to this place would have been lost due to self-consciousness and a sense of difference, whether of superiority or inferiority. Residents of our town don't go here to blend in; instead we go here to relate and to be ourselves in a diverse environment. This restaurant is a gift to the community, and it allows the kind of presence the Christian is supposed to cultivate I think. When I eat here (unfortunately, very rarely these days!) I simply am who I am as well --- both in my more fundamental solidarity with others as well as in what distinguishes me. I think this is really what the author of the letter to Diognetus was talking about.

I hope this helps.

The Good Soil of Humility

I was struck today by the Gospel for ordinary time and the possibility of the Word of God taking such root within us that it would produce a fruitful harvest in an almost unthinkable range. We all know the parable: a sower goes out to sow in the Palestinian countryside --- a harsh and difficult territory for farmers --- and therefore sows seed all around, hoping to maximize his return. Some seed falls on rocky ground, some on a pathway where it was immediately eaten by birds, some on ground choked with thorns, while some is snatched away by "the evil one," and some falls on good soil. The seed which falls on rocky ground where there is little soil springs up quickly but dies in the sun because there are no real roots to hold and nourish it; the shoots from the seed which fell among thistles is choked out by the stronger, more rapacious plants. But the seed which fell on good soil grew well and produced a rich harvest of 30, 60, or even a hundredfold (an amount the Palestinan farmers would have found unimaginable).

Jesus goes on to explain to his disciples who are troubled and perplexed by the fact that he is always speaking to others in parables (they want something more straightforward, something more informative than formative I think!), that the seed is the Word of God and the various soils represent various kinds of hearers, one whose hearing of the Word causes immediate joy, but because the Word strikes no root in him, has no staying power. When troubles come on account of the Word he falls away at once. Another hears the Word but is so taken with "worldly" cares and wealth (including status, etc) that the Word has no way to grow and so is barren in his life. In another hearer who has no understanding of what he has heard, the evil One snatches the Word away and carries off what was "sown in his heart". And in one person who both hears and understands it, the Word bears an immense harvest.

A couple of things are interesting in this parable (and in Matthew's interpretation of it). The first is that the Word which represents the Sovereignty or Kingdom of God is "sown" in our hearts and it is there that the seed finds the soil in which it will either grow to fruition, wither and die, be carried off by some other power or choked to death by other values and concerns. I have written a number of times here about the human heart as a primarily theological term and a dialogical reality, the reality created by God's call, voice, breath, song, etc, and the response we give to that, so I am not going to go into that further here except to refer the reader to past posts (cf labels, heart as a dialogical reality, for instance).

The second is that one must hear the Word in a way which includes understanding. Now this notion of understanding has come up for me recently in several ways. First, during retreat Fr Basil Matthews made some comments about understanding [the Word of God or the Rule of Benedict] being a form of "standing under." Just as knowing God is really about allowing ourselves to be known intimately by him, so too is understanding God a matter of allowing him to have sovereignty over us. Real understanding or knowing is not an intellectual act (or certainly not only that), but what happens when we allow God to dwell and act within us as sovereign Lord.

Secondly, I ran into the same notion of "standing under" while working on a homily there when one of the readings (Proverbs) connected real understanding with a way of being vis-a-vis the Wisdom of God --- something we were to assiduously seek out like buried treasure, the reading noted. At the same time I also read a passage from Gerald May's book on The Awakened Heart which referred to understanding as "standing under." And thirdly, here it is again with a reference to a person not understanding what they have heard and so, having the Word snatched away and carried off from their hearts by "the Evil One." In this case too, understanding is a matter of really standing under this Word in a way which marks one as being from and of it, as one belonging to it and as one who carries it into the world as the standard (and basis) of their lives. To not understand, to not hold this Word as precious, to fail to allow it to govern our lives and be sovereign in them is to allow another power or principality to steal it from us.

It is important to say something here about the soil of our hearts which either allows the seed to take root, or not. In fact I know that my own heart is as diverse as the terrain of the parable. There is soil packed down as well-worn paths (the places --- or the self-images --- I am comfortable and safe travelling on --- or moving through the world with); there is rocky ground (places of hardening due to woundedness, stubbornness, fear and insecurity, etc), thistle-strewn soil (the stuff that grows up because barrenness is a bit too scary, for instance, or because the Word had not been heard despite a hunger for it: nature abhors a vaccum and the human heart is the same). There are vast regions of wilderness I have never explored (and some I have!) which are inhabited by all manner of demons, and there are patches of good soil as well.

What I am aware of is the need for cultivation, a clearing of the rocks and thistles I allow to take the space God created for himself, for instance, or the need to feed and water the soil which is, or will soon be, ready for the Word --- and of course, something which requires the exploration of those desert spaces which remain largely unknown and frightening to me. What I know is that in my own heart the soil is not all the soil (humus) of humility -- the rich ground out of which life really springs and all the other virtues grow; it is not all the ground which allows God's Word to take root and his sovereignty to come to fruition in the Kingdom --- the garden of real and sustaining friendship with God --- and of course, that is precisely the soil which is needed.

Jesus wants us to hear and understand (stand under) the Word of God. In the Markan version of the parable the passage begins with the imperative, "Listen!" and in today's version from Matthew, the parable closes with the command, "Listen, those of you who have ears to hear with!" Once again he makes it clear that we share in a singular way in the story of God's search for a unique counterpart, one who is from God and of him, one who responsively embodies the Word of God in a unique way. He wants our hearts ready for this Word (a Word already present and active within us) in a way which allows it to be sovereign in our lives and in our world. He wants us to reflect as exhaustively as he does the truth of the dialogical reality we are at the core of our being. The ground in which this Word springs to fruition, the humus which is rich and capable of sustaining the growth of the seed in today's parable is the good soil of humility, the good soil of truthfulness about who we are in light of God. If, empowered and guided by the Holy Spirit, we can cultivate this soil and allow our hearts to be seedbeds of genuine humility, then the Word of God will indeed come to an immense harvest -- one which we ourselves could never have imagined.