Prodigal Kiwi(s) Blog

Emotionally Healthy...?

This is a book that I haven’t read since its publication; even then I might have only dipped into it – can’t remember. 

JR Woodward provides an overview of Scarzzero’s book which reminds me again that emotionally healthy churches (or families etc} are made up of  “healthy” individuals in healthy relationship with themselves, who live these principles in their own relationships, in their own friendships, within their own families etc. They're insights into relating, so if "church" is an issue and your experience was far from "healthy", think "relationships", think "marriage", or some other social / relational context where you contribute to its "health" or otherwise... 

Here’s how JR Woodward summarises the book. I quote in full:

“If you have never had a chance to read The Emotionally Healthy Church by Peter Scazzero, you should.  It is an important read. He has a follow up to that one called Emotionally Healthy Spirituality. 

But, here is a basic overview and the heart of The Emotionally Healthy Church. 

The following six principles are interrelated and build upon each other. 

Principle 1: Look Beneath the Surface. Becoming aware of how we respond, relate, and react in our daily life often involves more than our first-glance thoughts and intentions of the moment. 

Principle 2: Break the Power of the Past. Realizing the degree to which our families of origins have shaped how we see the world, handle conflicts, and deal with emotions. 

Principle 3: Live in Brokenness and Vulnerability. Realizing that we are all very broken people and that none of us comes to Jesus Christ with a “Get-Out-Of-Discipleship-for-Free” card. We all must be profoundly retrained, retaught, reworked, and reshaped under his lordship and grace. 

Principle 4: Receive the Gifts of Limits. In our brokenness, we begin to see that God has blessed us with limitations that we must learn to embrace and receive instead of fight and deny. We were all born with certain limits, others were thrust upon us, and still others were a result of our own choices. 

Principle 5: Embracing Grieving and Loss. In seeing the limits of our life, especially the ones over which we have no control, we enlarge our soul by grieving the reality that we can never do and be all that we’ve hoped for on this side of the new heavens and new earth. 

Principle 6: Make Incarnation Our Model for Loving Well. Getting better acquainted with our own limits, our own past, our own brokenness, and ourselves, we can hold onto to ourselves and love others more freely by entering into their world without losing our true self. 

Via JR Woodward. 

Any other “principles” you’d add from your own experience…?

 

Loneliness, Aloneness and the Mystery of Who We Are

Today some random thoughts on the importance of loneliness as an invitation to a work of the heart and of love: 

Don’t surrender your loneliness so quickly. Let it cut more deep. Let it ferment and season you as few human or even divine ingredients can. Something missing in my heart tonight has made my eyes so soft my voice so tender my need of god absolutely clear. 
–Hafiz 

Loneliness accepted becomes a gift leading one from a life dominated by tears to the discovery of one's true self and finally to the heart of longing and the love of God.

The sole cause of our unhappiness is that we do not know how to stay quietly in our room. 
— Blaise Pascal (+1662)

Loneliness is Painful

"All human beings are alone. No other person will completely feel like we do, think like we do, act like we do. Each of us is unique, and our aloneness is the other side of our uniqueness. The question is whether we let our aloneness become loneliness or whether we allow it to lead us into solitude. Loneliness is painful; solitude is peaceful. Loneliness makes us cling to others in desperation; solitude allows us to respect others in their uniqueness and create community. 

Letting our aloneness grow into solitude and not into loneliness is a lifelong struggle. It requires conscious choices about whom to be with, what to study, how to pray, and when to ask for counsel. But wise choices will help us to find the solitude where our hearts can grow in love."

 -Henri Nouwen

Maybe of interest too is a 1984 essay by Kelley Kelsey titled The Gift of Loneliness. 

As I’ve been reflecting on this theme; important, for example in spiritual direction, I’ve been reading, through the lense of what it is to experience aloneness, Sean Tan’s book The Red Tree. Its not what the book is primarily about, but it is readable (to me anyway) through other lenses – the importance of aloneness being one.

What other resources help people work from experiences of seeming loneliness to the discovery of the importance of aloneness and of solitude...?

Postscript 

Feelings of loneliness arise from all kinds of sources, however, its often not primarily about distance from people (and seeming loss of intimacy), its about the distance between the inner and outer realities of our life; the inner emptiness of our lives and our separation from our truest or deepest self. We’re not comfortable in our own skin, and the easier option is to blame others for our loneliness. This isn’t to say others don’t contribute, its just to acknowledge often there are invariably deeper issues in play; deeper questions to be answered, deeper needs to be met – needs another person can’t meet. These truths I have discovered for myself, although not until after a lot of unnecessary suffering. 

After writing this post (did so late last week) I was delighted to see (this morning) the supplement in the Sunday Star Times newspaper (dated 29^th May 2011) featured a two-page article talking about “why scientists are telling us to seek solitude”.  I wanted to add a few thoughts from it, hence the “postscript” to the original post:

“…I think our culture is very judgemental about aloneness… I mean, we are social animals and we do need social interaction… We do need and crave a sense of belonging and connection to others, but we also need and crave space to ourselves, just to think. And I think a lot of us get peopled-out without realising it” (p. 16). 

Those of us who readily acknowledge our need of solitude and alone time often have a hard time of it. Not only is it us who’ve often learnt the hard way that solitude is part of how we need to care for ourselves, but for others it’s too easy for solitude to be seen as an either/or scenario – either people-time or alone time. The need for “alone time” is somehow seen as a person being anti-people or people being seen as a burden (or some other derivative of this kind of sentiment). However, what the quote above reminds us is that its actually a both / and situation. We do need people. We do need social interaction. But we also need alone time. It’s the wisdom of balance, harmony, and contentment. It’s about yin & yang, as it were.  And perhaps that balance is different for different people, and perhaps those who least value the need are those with the most need for solitude, for time to be with themselves. 

The article also acknowledges that solitude isn’t for everyone. For those “who have social anxieties or depression – solitude can be damaging.”

The brief article concludes with a clinical psychologist pointing out “…that there are ways to think yourself into solitude rather than loneliness. ‘If you’re thinking, ‘Nobody care about me, that’s why I’m on my own,’ then you’ll feel lonely. Or, ‘Gosh, I haven’t seen anyone. Maybe I haven’t got any friends.’ But if you think, ‘Oh thank God, some time to myself at last’ – which is what I think – then you’re unlikely to feel lonely. You might feel excited” (p. 17).  

Reading Scripture through Contemporary Eyes

Prima Scriptura (pub 2011) is an engaging introduction to New Testament exegesis that will appeal to seminarians and undergraduates across the spectrum, so says the publisher's blurb.

“…Clayton Croy, the author of a successful Greek textbook and an expert on biblical-studies pedagogy, provides an accessible, holistic overview of the entire interpretive process. He argues that while Scripture occupies a place of primary importance in guiding faith and life, it does not do so in a vacuum. It operates in conjunction with two thousand years of Christian tradition, Spirit-guided human reason, and experience. Scripture's authority is therefore primary but not exclusive. Croy begins with the preparation of the interpreter, proceeds to analysis of the text, and concludes with appropriation of the message of Scripture in the context of modern faith communities. He combines a step-by-step plan for historical exegesis with substantive discussion of broader hermeneutical issues.

Prima Scriptura interacts with recent scholarship and is academically rigorous but is written in an engaging style, incorporating anecdotes, humor, scriptural illustrations, and examples of the practical payoff of disciplined interpretation. Each chapter includes discussion questions and suggestions for further reading. Professors and students in exegesis and hermeneutics courses will value this work.”

Contents 

Introduction: Definitions, Theoretical Issues, and Preview of the Method

1. Analyzing and Preparing the Interpreter

2. Analyzing the Text

3. Evaluating and Contemporizing the Text

4. Appropriating the Text and Transforming the Community

Appendix 1: Sample Exegesis Paper--"Jesus on Probation" (Luke 4: 1-13)

Appendix 2: Sample Exegetical Brief--Hebrews 1:1-4

Appendix 3: Pictograph of Philippians

Appendix 4: Pictograph of 2 Corinthians

Appendix 5: Chart of the Gospel of Mark

Appendix 6: Nestle Aland27 and UBS4 Comparison Chart

Appendix 7: In the Laboratory with Agassiz 

For a positive review see Nijay Gupta here. You'll find a PDF excerpt here. 

 

The Braided Reality of Life and Living

Today I want to weave together several themes that for me feel related: dissonance (friction and the process of “becoming more fully human”), narcissism (and the inability to empathise; to see and experience the world through the perspective of the ‘other’), tedium and the everyday grounds of our formation (taking time with life and thinking small), wisdom and its relation to human lives full of mistakes, and finally, the importance of open conversation and collaboration – our need of the ‘other’. 

“…Da Vinci’s notion (‘…Do you not know that our soul is composed of harmony?’) is such a nice one that it’s most likely wrong. Nice ideas, after all, are often inaccurate, too tidy or sweet to get at the harder truths about how we really live our lives. Surely the soul, if there even is such a thing, is not composed just of harmonies but of discord and dissonance too. Nudged into consciousness by friction with the world, the soul likely plays more than a single melodic line. It shifts between major and minor keys, alters the phrasing, moves from soft to loud and back again, all over the course of a single lifetime, or day by day, or maybe even minute by minute. Perhaps it feels simultaneously young and old, independent and needy, sanguine and depressed — a whole range of competing and contradictory emotions that, if we acknowledge them all, can leave us paralyzed, or on our way to becoming more fully human…” (By Barbara Hurd, via here).

Simon Carey Holt introduces us to Barbara Hurd who reflects on the role of dissonance and discord in arenas like music, psychology and philosophy.  Part way through she says this:  

"'For now we see through a glass, darkly,' the Bible says. For me, it's more like 'Now we hear through a thick wall, barely.' How much do I miss? How much cluck and chirp, woof and trill, burrowing, gnashing, and last breaths go on while I walk oblivious among it all, preoccupied with this or that, intent on listening only for the sweet melodies? The answer is 'plenty,' though I am hearing more these days than I used to. Maybe the biggest challenge now is to expand my notion of harmony so that it includes even the unlocatable creaks of the dying, the screeches of healthy discontents, the cacophonies of want, all the unnerving sounds that accompany so much of our jostling attempts to make sense of life." 

She [Hurd] concludes: "What seems to be leading me these days is a wish to move, ear first, a little closer to what surrounds me, to close my eyes and hear how dissonance can agitate the spirit and widen the spectrum." 

Cheryl Lawrie tells us (here) that she’s reading – “…an utterly terrifying book on narcissistic cultures … called The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the age of entitlement [looking forward to reading this in a couple of weeks – Paul. Thanks Cheryl for bringing it to my attention!], written by Jean Twenge and Keith Campbell.” 

“I first heard about the book”, Cheryl writes, “on an Insights [radio] program on narcissism a few weeks ago, which had me wanting to go hide under a rock. It frightens me for many reasons – not least that one of the primary symptoms of narcissism is a lack of empathy – an absolute inability to grasp the idea that another person may encounter the world differently to us …” 

While James K A Smith reflects on “Thinking Small” in a recent commencement address he delivered: 

“…What I’m suggesting is this: so many of the big dreams that you now envision as success are, when you get there, going to feel unbelievably empty and vapid and anticlimactic. In fact, let me put it starkly: if you keep thinking happiness is in the land of big dreams, then you are on a trajectory toward disappointment. If you only dream big, you’re headed for disillusionment … [so what do we do with that disillusionment; with our discovery of reality, contra the effect of a lack of realism? – Paul] .We’re sending you out of here with the ticket to success. But it can be just that success that will feel hollow and deflated unless you learn to dream small. 

Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission

The Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission, today finishes it’s gathering at the Bose Ecumenical Monastery in Italy. They’ve been in session since the 7^th May 2011, discussing in depth topics such as “The Church as communion, local and universal” and “How in communion the local and the universal Church comes to discern just ethical teaching”. This initiative reflects the wish expressed by Pope Benedict XVI and by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, on the occasion of their meeting in Rome in November 2009.

ARCIC III is composed of eighteen members (ten from the Anglican side and eight from the Catholic) and brings together a wide spectrum of cultural backgrounds and theological disciplines. Its co-presidents are Bernard Longley, Archbishop of Birmingham, England (Catholic), and David Moxon, Archbishop of the dioceses of New Zealand (Anglican). David is our Diocesan Bishop. 

For me, I was particularly struck by the following “snapshot” from Bose: 

“…Dr Paul Murray stimulated discussion about receptive ecumenism: a way of being with each other that is open and vulnerable. This is ecumenism not primarily as a task of convincing the other, but as a task of conversion; a task of asking how in the face of the other we are being called to conversion out of ways that are frustrating our flourishing, and into a greater abundance of life, a deeper quality of catholicity’, Dr Murray said. In other words, our two Communions might be able to help each other grow in faith, life and witness if they are open to being transformed by God‘s grace mediated through each other…” 

Along the lines of my recent post on “Benedict’s Dharma” the implications of this kind of dialogue are always broader than the two communions represented by this gathering. Dialogue is at this primary level always a dialogue between people; people who are themselves in relationship with other people. The kind of change we want to see on an international scale needs to begin in our own hearts; needs to begin with us being willing to change and to help the others in our lives grow and flourish. God’s grace is mediated through people willing to remain open to conversion(s); open and vulnerable to the ‘other’. 

You’ll find photographs from the gathering here. 

 

The Unfolding Drama of Scripture…the continuing “acts” of God

A couple of days ago, in this post, I asked Andrew Perriman (that’s him over there on the left!) a question about Tom Wright’s schema of the unfolding drama of scripture as a 5-Act play. Andrew kindly responded to the question. Thanks Andrew. And if his response interests you, you might be interested in this post too. It follows the one I refer to above. 

The following diagram, produced by Andrew, illustrates what Wright is saying. He talks of the Church as providing an “…improvisatory performance of the final act…”

Wright sees “…the five acts as follows: (1) Creation; (2) Fall; (3) Israel; (4) Jesus.  The New Testament would then form the first scene in the fifth act, giving hints as well (Rom 8; 1 Cor. 15; parts of the Apocalypse) of how the play is supposed to end…”  

Andrew, while accepting the useful of the schema (to a point), disagrees with Wright because, as he argues, Wright’s: 

“…View of … history more or less grinds to a halt when we get to Paul. Wright recognizes the framing importance of the impending judgment on Israel for determining the nature of Jesus’ mission. But when we get to Paul, we have basically arrived at a general-purpose Christianity—admittedly not quite Christianity as traditionally conceived—and theology no longer engages with history as narrative. Theology disengages from the particularities of history and binds itself instead to human universals. 

I would argue, to the contrary, that the impending clash between the emerging churches and Rome was as important for Paul’s theology as AD 70 was for Jesus’ theology. New Testament theology is at every point, retrospectively and prospectively, an engagement with history… 

… “But,” Andrew continues, “history does not stop when we get to Paul’s articulation of the significance of what God was doing through Jesus for the sake of the future of his people. So I think it is misleading to suggest that following the writing of the New Testament we have less than one act still to live out. 

I would say that the period from the events of the New Testament to the conversion of Rome should constitute a separate act—the outworking of the conviction generated in the New Testament that the people of God would “inherit” the Greek-Roman world. That would be the rest of act five, perhaps—the story of how the family of Abraham went from “exile” to “empire”. 

But then the period of Western Christendom should also constitute a theologically significant act as the socio-political expression of the victory of Christ over the pagan nations. Most of the history of the church, directly or indirectly, has been the story of Christian political, cultural and intellectual imperialism. But this sixth act has also come to an end… and so it goes on…”

Andrew uses the following diagram to illustrate his point.

You can find Tom Wright’s paper in which I first came across his idea of a 5-Act play here (1989). For more on reading and engaging Scripture, see also Wright’s The New Testament and the People of God (1992) and Scripture and the Authority of God (SPCK: 2005). Interestingly too, as noted in my earlier post, a couple of years ago I asked Colin Greene about Wright’s schema. You’ll find Colin’s response here (PDF). 

I must say I am largely in agreement with the central points of Andrew’s argument. Colin makes good points as well. I find Wright’s schema helpful (His, dating back to the late 80’s was a “first” for me and an important development. It has remained with me to this day!). I just think Andrew, Colin, and no doubt others, add something important to it, and thus for me it becomes more useful and suggestive. 

For me, Andrew’s schema is particularly useful in that it takes seriously both the “particularities of history” (and thus takes seriously the incarnation) and also the continuing unfolding of the drama of God begun in “act 1” (Creation / On this point I warm to Robert Alter’s translation of Gen 1:1 “When God began to create . . ." i.e. God’s creating continues…), and ending with “new creation” (Rev. 21:1) 

It takes seriously that unfolding within and through history. It takes seriously too that creation and redemption is a work in progress within history, culture(s) etc; a Spirit-work (missio Dei) that we are invited to join in on within the contextual realities of the times and contexts within which we find ourselves. 

The church, according to both Wright’s schema and Andrew’s reworking of it, is called to live under the ‘authority’ of the extant story, acting both faithfully (ensuring it remains in conversation previous acts) and innovatively with regard to the new things God is doing and the new invitations God is extending. I think this has all kinds of interesting implications for mission, for how we read scripture and history, and for how we understand “church”. 

 

The Rule of St. Benedict in Conversation with the Buddhist Monastic Tradition.

Benedict’s Dharma is a book (pub. 2001) that results from a 1996 Gethsemani Encounter – a conversation between the Christian and Buddhist Monastic traditions. The subtitle of the book is “Buddhists Reflect on the Rule of Saint Benedict.” It also includes an afterword by David Steindl-Rast, OSB and a short essay introducing St. Benedicts Rule by Margaret Mary Funk, OSB. I’ve very much appreciated Steindl-Rast and Funk’s writing over the years – particularly what I call Funk’s “Matters” series: Thoughts Matter: The Practice of the Spiritual Life; Tools Matter for Practicing the Spiritual Life; Humility Matters for Practicing the Spiritual Life; and most recently (pub. 2010) Lectio Matters: Before The Burning Bush: Through the Revelatory Texts of Scripture, Nature and Experience. 

In its concluding section it offers a new (1997) translation of The Rule by Abbot Patrick Barry, OSB, of Ampleforth Abbey, Yorkshire, England. 

It really is a wonderful conversation, one that beautifully captures the rich and tremendously insightful nuances and textures of a conversation centered on Benedicts Rule from the perspective of the Buddhist tradition. One can’t escape the beautiful insights into what it means to be fully and freely human. And it is in this sense particularly that engaged and attentive readers will likely journey beyond “The Rule” (per se) to places where their own lives and relationships; their own ways of being in the world will be enriched and enlivened. In other words, it is a book that can be fruitfully, and dare I say, prayerfully, read at more than one level. The Spirit blows inside and outside of the fences! 

Here are some quotes from Funk’s introduction to The Rule:

“…For Benedict, a spiritual pathway was not one to be littered with unusual practices; rather, all that is needed is to be faithful to finding God in the ordinary circumstances of daily life…” (p. 132) 

[Sounds very Ignatian!] 

“…Benedict envisaged a balanced life of prayer and work as the ideal. Monastics would spend time in prayer so as to discover why they’re working, and would spend time in work so that good order and harmony would prevail in the monastery. Benedictines should not be consumed by work, nor should they spend so much time in prayer that responsibilities are neglected. According to Benedict, all things – eating, drinking, sleeping, reading, working, and praying – should be done in moderation…” (p.132). 

[As non-monastic’s, the list could go on in respect of other life-stage, life-circumstance(s), needs, and priorities (whether ongoing or seasonal) – the key thought, is that their must be a balance and moderation; a middle-way.  Balance between activity and inactivity; inward and outward; relational and self – Paul] 

“…The spiritual life was something to be worked at, not merely hoped for…” (p. 132). 

[Again, life and its needs, relationships etc need to be worked at. Like the spiritual life relationships, success in work etc just doesn’t happen – work and practices, done consistently, are required – Paul] 

 “…Benedict understood that each person’s rough edges – all the defenses and pretensions and blind spots that keep the monastic from growing spiritually – are best confronted by living side by side with other flawed human beings whose faults and failings are only too obvious. St. Benedict teaches that growth comes from accepting people as they are, not as we would like them to be. His references to the stubborn and the dull, the undisciplined and the restless, the careless and the scatterbrained have the ring of reality. Though Benedict was idealist with respect to human nature, he understood that the key to spiritual progress lies in constantly making the effort to see Christ in the other person…” (p. 133) 

[Again, from Benedict, the recognition of our common human condition – we are, all of us, flawed to a greater of lesser degree; we are all less than what we are invited to become in Christ. Our faults and failings are there to see; most-clearly by those we are closest too. Benedict firstly invites a recognition of who we most deeply are, and the ways our deepest self is overlain by our brokenness, our faults, and our failings. Secondly, there is the invitation to become most deeply who we are, most fully human and whole by means of relationship and community; relationship and community with those who are both different from us, and yet are like us in that they too have “blind spots” (which we need the help of the ‘other’ to see), “rough edges, faults, failings”, and the legacy of the past and of our formation. Thirdly, he offers that we must constantly look for “Christ in the other person”. At which point we might have a question or two: How do we see and experience Christ in the other? How, in that experience, do we recognize Christ? What are we looking for? – Paul]. 

In talking about the monastic vow of “stability” Funk writes, “…Contentment and fulfillment do not exist in constant change; true happiness cannot necessarily be found anywhere other than this place and time…Benedictines promise to allow themselves to be shaped and moulded by the community… to forswear pet projects for the sake of community needs, to be open to change, to listen to others, and not to run away when things seem frustrating or boring or hopeless…” (pp. 133-134) 

[This is important too. At there best long-term relationships and friendships (family, close friends,people who are different from us, work colleagues, spouses, and our children etc) enable us to live deeply, and to become more; they help shape and mould us for our good - Paul].   

 

The New Testament and “what now for the church”?

Andrew Perriman has an interesting post whose title I’ve pinched (above) and to which I’ve added a question mark. It’s a good question: we have the New Testament (which of course the earliest Christians didn’t have), we are church, but how are we to be churches – how are we to embody and enact the unfolding drama of biblical narrative? In other words, how are we to live into and out of this ancient story? 

In conversation with Andrew’s narrative-historical methodology – by means of which he reads himself into and out of the New Testament text – we find an interesting we find a fellow wayfarer who adds something to our journey. 

Andrew’s post, in a sense, offers a high-level summary of some of the key themes of the New Testament. His argument is that “…the core elements of New Testament theology have a very precise, particular, and in certain important respects limited significance in the historical frame within which they were originally conceived and articulated…” 

Andrew says, “the intention of the post was simply to show how a consistent narrative-historical reading of the New Testament may still be practically “applicable to believers to today”…” 

Here are a couple of excerpts. You can find the full post here.

“Mission”

“The biblical narrative as a whole teaches us that this people was always intended to be new creation, a creational microcosm in the midst of the nations and cultures of the world. This template in itself establishes certain fundamental responsibilities and tasks; it may be used to define the “mission” of the church, as I have attempted to show in Re: Mission. A new creation people is in restored relationship with the Creator, expressed through worship, trust and service; it must work out the consequences of that core identity in its concrete social existence as a matter of tangible righteousness; it must express through its own creativity something of the good creativity of God. The post-eschatological church is still a model of restored humanity, a prophetic and priestly people, that embodies, articulates, mediates, the reality of God to a God-less world…”

Scripture

Finally, I think we need to recover the simple power of story-telling. Modernity has taught us to extract truth forcibly from living narratives, process it, package it, and serve it up for popular consumption. Post-modernity is giving us the opportunity to let the narrative speak for itself and qua narrative shape the self-understanding and purpose of the people of God.

Peter bemoans the lack of a “biblical matrix… in which we can locate ourselves”. But “matrix” is only one type of metaphor for our relationship to scripture. I think that there are, in fact, ways to locate ourselves in the “matrix” of scripture. For example, it seems to me that the post-Christendom church is in an insecure transitional situation much like the exodus or the exile or the difficult journey that the New Testament communities had to make before they inherited the pagan world; and we are having to exercise a similar trust in God that we have a meaningful future. There is much that we can learn from such “analogies”. 

But the Bible is actually much more like a narrative than it is like a “matrix”. It fundamentally tells a story. All I am suggesting is that we learn how to live in relation to scripture for what it actually is—not a textbook of theology, not a compendium of beliefs, not a work of quasi-Gnostic myth-making, not a static “matrix” in which truths are embedded, but a very Jewish historical narrative.

There is some truth in Peter’s claim that a narrative that culminates in the conversion of the Greek-Roman world leaves us now in “uncharted, post-biblical waters”. But I don’t see that as a bad thing. I disagree with Tom Wright about how the New Testament narrative is to be reconstructed, but I think his well known Shakespearian play analogy is helpful. The first four acts are found in the Bible. The undetermined fifth act is being written by the actors: 

‘Better, it might be felt, to give the key parts to highly trained, sensitive and experienced Shakespearian actors, who would immerse themselves in the first four acts, and in the language and culture of Shakespeare and his time, and who would then be told to work out a fifth act for themselves.’ (Tom Wright) 

The play cannot be properly finished simply by repeating act four. There are ways of living in the narrative that allow us genuinely to walk with God into the unknown, in proper continuity with the narrative trajectory of scripture—not least because we have to keep moving towards the final vision of a new heaven and new earth. It undoubtedly calls for an exceptional wisdom and creativity and faithfulness, but that should not be beyond the working of the Spirit of the Creator God who dwells within us…” 

Andrew, if you read this, how about a post on why you disagree with Tom Wright on how the New Testament narrative is reconstructed? Perhaps you already have, so a link would be useful. I’m reading though that you’re in agreement with his analogy of an unfolding drama in five-acts…? I’ve always found it a really useful analogy. I remember a couple of years back interviewing friend Colin Greene and adds his own twist to Wright’s analogy. 

 

Michael Casey OCSO: The Road to Eternal Life, Jesus, and Strangers to the City.

One of my favorite contemporary Cistercian writers is Fr. Michael Casey OCSO, a Cistercian Monk at Tarrawarra Abbey in Victoria, Australia.  He has a new book out latter this year (Sept. 11), a nice hardcover titled The Road to Eternal Life: Reflections on the Prologue of Benedict’s Rule. 

“In the Prologue of his Rule, St. Benedict maps out the road that leads to heaven; he lays the foundation for life in a community that seeks God. The themes that are present throughout the Rule—obedience, humility, prayer, fear of the Lord, eternal life—are grounded in the Prologue. 

By reflecting on the Prologue one verse at a time, Michael Casey, OCSO, delves into the richness of meaning that can be found in Benedict’s words. These reflections, first given as talks and made available on his community’s web site, build a bridge between the sixth-century text and twenty-first-century Christians. In The Road to Eternal Life, Casey invites readers to reflect on the Prologue in light of their own experiences, to seek ‘the road that leads to salvation’…” 

Not yet able to be pre-ordered on Amazon.com. 

Also of interest to some of you might be a January 2010 transcript of a three-part interview with Casey while he was in the USA. You will find them here.

Meanwhile, here’s an excerpt from the opening section of the interview: 

Br Chris: When Abbot Peter announced to us at our community chapter that you would be giving us this year’s community retreat, he said it would be based on the new book you are working on. What can you tell us about it? 

Fr Michael Casey: Generally, I don’t like talking about the book in progress, as many authors don’t, simply because it takes a certain amount of the pressure out of it. What I do however is to workshop my material and to try it out on people and see how they respond and how it fits together and perhaps learn something from the feedback that I receive. What it also does, it helps me to formulate different ways of ordering my material. So I may give a very similar retreat in different places, to different audiences and a different progression of ideas emerges. This retreat, as you are probably becoming aware, is a little like a continuation of my book Fully Human, Fully Divine. It’s this idea of taking the Gospel of Mark, which is, my favorite I think, and reflecting on it, in a way that allows it to speak to our own experience and to give us some sort of guidance and direction for the way that we live our particular mode of discipleship. So it’s a monastic retreat, not because it brings in all sorts of monastic figures necessarily and waves a flag, but because it’s derived from monastic experience and directed to monastic experience. It talks about the things we are familiar with, there is nothing much which is new, but it stirs over the coals a bit and hopes to kindle a bit of flame, somehow or other. 

Br Chris: How do you deal with the tension between writing for a monastic audience and a non-monastic audience? For instance, your book Strangers to the City is a very monastic oriented book, while Fully Human, Fully Divine would have a broader appeal. 

Fr Michael Casey: The person I want to please, is myself. So I must admit, I write to please myself. Fully Human, Fully Divine, which I think is my best book, is really just closely tied to the Gospel but it’s also, in a very clear way, a continuation, if I wanted to be ambitious, of what the Cistercian Fathers were doing. By taking the Scriptures and interpreting them in a behavioristic kind of light and drawing in our own contemporary experience. Strangers to the City was great fun. I had the most fun writing that because I was pretty uninhibited and fired off a few rockets in it in every direction. It’s a very challenging book in some parts so I wonder whether this will be suitable for other people. Yet from the feedback I received, all sorts of different people are reading it, monks least of all possible… Cistercian monks least of all [laughs]. It’s being read in a lot of Benedictine refectories. The two biggest Benedictine communities in this country, which is Saint Vincent Archabbey in Latrobe, Pennsylvania and Saint John’s Collegeville, in both, every monk received a copy of it. It’s unabashedly from the Cistercian end of the Benedictine spectrum, it’s talking about Cistercian values, but I was very interested in just the wide spread acceptance of what I had to say. It tells me to trust in my own instincts. To say what I want to say and if people want to hear it, they will hear it. Perhaps, as often happens, they will hear more than I thought I was saying. So it’s a very monastic book, which has had a wide readership. It’s a bit the same with Thomas Merton. His most monastic writings are the one that people seem to enjoy the most. The ones that are more political and perhaps controversial, have a readership and following but not of the same depth and enthusiasm as those who read books like The Sign of Jonas, which is just simply monastic gossip written in appealing language but it’s just what happened in the monastery in the 1940’s or 50’s whenever it was written. Not much happens but people are interested in the monastic side of things…”

“Be at Peace” – Meister Eckhart

So just let God act, and be at peace. As far as you are in God, you are in peace; and as far as you are outside God, you are outside peace. Lack of peace comes from created things and not from God. Nor is there anything to fear in God, and nothing in him to cause sadness; his being can draw only love from us. It is true; they, who have all they wish for, know joy; but no one has this except those whose will is one with God’s will. May God grant us this union!

Meister Eckhart quoted in Conversations with Meister Eckhart by Simon Parke.