Prodigal Kiwi(s) Blog

Beginning by Making Peace with the Enemy Within

Paul writes – I was with a wonderful little group last night reflecting together on what it looks like to be a peace-keeper. We listened to local stories and reflected on Ephesians 2: 14-22.

At the conclusion of the evening I found myself looking in a blue-framed mirror reading the following words, attached to the bottom of the mirror. Echoes of Jung, but also the recognition that peace-making flows out of the inward work of peace-making in our own lives. I come across many people for whom this is the biggest struggle – peace within themselves, with themselves:

“…As we begin to acknowledge our own inner shadow we become more tolerant of the shadow in others. As we begin to love the enemy within, we develop the compassion we need to love the enemy without…”

Walter Wink…

Faith’s Legacy… Faith’s Invitation

Paul writes – This is an excerpt from an interesting (and largely positive) column in Monday’s New Zealand Herald newspaper. Read in conjunction with some of Rowan William’s reflections on Faith and Politics / Faith and History, there is much that help us both reengage our tradition, the Scriptural narrative, and our culture in life-giving and “good news” ways.

“…Sure, wrote Gallup, "a great deal of evil in the world has been perpetrated in the name of religion by fanatics and persons with distorted agendas".

BUT the data was clear. Spiritual commitment "serves both as a brake on anti-social activities and a powerful impetus to pro-social, even sacrificial, behaviour and attitudes. And the deeper the spiritual commitment, the more pronounced the effects. Indeed, a mountain of survey data from the Gallup and other survey organisations shows that when educational background and other variables are held constant, persons who are 'highly spiritually committed' are far less likely to engage in antisocial behaviour than those less committed. They have lower rates of crime, excessive alcohol use, and drug addiction than other groups…"

Read the whole column here.

Scape-Goating… the need to always have an “other” to victimise

Paul writes – Appearing in The Observer a few weeks ago was a great little article by the Archbishop of Canterbury. He explains why the Easter story can help humanity escape a lethal, but easily fallen into cycle of relational fear and resentment.

“…In recent years a number of Christian writers – inspired by the French critic and philosopher, Rene Girard - have stressed with new urgency how the Bible shows the way in which groups and societies work out their fears and frustrations by finding scapegoats…”

“…Because we compete for the same goods and comforts, we need to sustain our competition with our rivals and maintain distance from them. But to stop this getting completely out of hand ('the war of all against all'), we unite with our rivals to identify the cause of the scarcity that makes us compete against each other with some outside presence we can all agree to hate…”

Williams reminds us “the scapegoat mechanism is exposed for what it is – an arbitrary release of tension that makes no difference to the underlying problem.” It never gets to the root of the problem. With what I experience in relation to ‘the other’

“It changes when we recognise our complicity and when we listen to what the unique divine scapegoat says: that you do not have to see the rival as a threat to everything, that it is possible to believe that certain values will survive whatever happens in this earth's history because they reflect the reality of an eternal God; that letting go of the obsessions of memory and resentment is release, not betrayal.”

“…The point of the Church's presence in our culture is not to be a decorative annex to the heritage industry, but to help us see certain things we'd rather not about common responsibility - and the costly way to a common hope.”

You can read William's full reflection here. It’s a very thought-provoking piece, perspective-changing at a number of levels, not least the inter-personal relationships we are each a part of on an everyday basis. For more on this “scape-goating” mechanism, I’d recommend James Alison, particularly his book, Knowing Jesus. It’s a real gem! Incidentally, Rowan Williams writes the Foreword. 

Franciscan Richard Rohr made “scape-goating” the centre of an excellent talk he delivered in St. Peter’s Anglican Cathedral, Hamilton a few years ago. Here are my notes.

Letting Your Life Speak of Seven Story Mountains.

Paul writes – A post-resurrection post. Two of the most significant books I’ve ever read are the following. A theme I continue to reflect on – vocation – listening to my life telling me who I am.

“I was not sure where I was going, and I could not see what I would do… But you [God] saw further and clearer than I…” Thomas Merton, The Seven Mountain.

“Vocation does not come from willfulness. It comes from listening. I must listen to my  life and try to understand what it is truly about – quite apart from what I would like it to be about – or my life will never represent anything real in the world, no matter how earnest my intentions. That insight is hidden in the word vocation itself, which is rooted in the Latin for “voice.” Vocation does not mean a goal that I pursue. It means a calling that I hear. Before I can tell my life what I want to do with it, I must listen to my life telling me who I am…” Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak.

A Franciscan Benediction

Paul writes – This great little benediction came across my path recently. Reminded me of this earlier post

“May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships so that you may live deep within your heart
May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace
May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy

And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world so that you can do what others claim cannot be done to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor…”

Bruno Barnhart - The Deep Self

Paul writes – I’m pleased I came across the writing and thinking of Fr. Bruno Barnhart a Camaldolese Benedictine monk of New Camaldoli Hermitage, Big Sur, California. Barnhart was recommended (indirectly) to me by Franciscan Fr. Richard Rohr. I’ve gained a lot of insight through what (to date) I’ve read and heard. Here’s a few edited thoughts Barnhart on the “false self” & the “true self”:

“Thomas Merton talks [a lot] about the “false self” & the “true self”. Barnhart refers to them as “’a superficial’ or ‘ego self’ and the ‘deep self’” which he says is, “unitive [i.e. in the sense of having a natural inclination toward loving “union” with God as its goal. For more, see Evelyn Underhill’s classic, Mysticism, chapter 10 – The Unitive Life] and divine [created as we are ‘in the image of God’ / ‘Christ in you…’ Col. 1:27. “This is the attitude of the New Testament writers as they enjoin their readers to live according to the fullness that they have received.”]

He says “we [are] to think of this [deep self] as our baptismal identity. When we awaken to that we awaken to something which is our-selves; we awaken to [that about us which] is deeper, larger, more free, more positive, more loving and generous than the [superficial self or ego identity] that we know.”

Asked whether he drew a division in his mind between the two selves, he responded:

“[Yes], I do… yet to a certain point you have to be careful with it, because if you divide the true self from the false self, where am I? I’m neither quite my true self nor [my] false self, so I somehow fall into the void, [the gap] in the middle between those two. [However] if you read the Gospel(s) you find out there is a compassion for this poor, limited, yet real self that I am, in between the two.

So “false self” and “true self” are two abstractions from the reality [of what I am at any particular moment]; the reality that is in need to mercy and [compassion]. [Too often] there is a lack of … compassion and acceptance [on our part] for this self that I am in [between the two abstractions]…”

Barnhart mentions / recommends Merton on this subject (what I describe as the recovery and embodying of who we were most deeply created to be in and through Jesus Christ, but another author I’ve heard recommended is Bede Griffiths and his book Return to the Centre…   

Previous thoughts from me on this subject include the following here and here… And most recently, here and here…

Jesus didn't come to make us Christian…

Paul writes – The quote, below, somehow seemed appropriate and relevant to my New Zealand context too. 

For a few days I’ve been reflecting on my experiences of church belonging. My sad observation is that far too often these are places that de-humanise… not overtly, and not all the time but somehow, in belonging, you become less human, less alive, and less free (why, for example, in church contexts I’ve belonged too are there so many women on anti-depressants). Masks become more important and more needful. You feel more at risk and therefore more vulnerable. You become less you and more what is expected of you. It becomes about conformity and not the kind of conforming (to Jesus) that the NT talks about.

As I’ve written elsewhere, you find yourself leaving more and more of who you are at the door as you enter. Your expectations become less. You shrivel up. Becoming an idealised ‘christian’ (whatever content that word is given in particular contexts) becomes more important than nurturing and resourcing a safe environment in which people slowly become more fully and wholly human in relation to God, themselves, and others.

A broad generalization I know, but nonetheless it’s an observation validated in my own experience.

“…Here’s my basic theology in a nutshell: [Dutch scholar] Hans Rookmaaker said Jesus didn't come to make us Christian, he came to make us fully human, and I think a full human being is a human being that is intellectually, spiritually, creatively, morally, and relationally alive, and the reason I think America is superficial both in its religion and its popular culture is I think we're intellectually, spiritually, creatively, morally, and relationally superficial, and we were made for something more. So the idea of discovering what it means to be fully human is, I think, what Jesus was about, more than simply are you a Christian or not, and when we think in terms of Christian and not Christian, then we start thinking of Christians as just another voting bloc or another purchasing power, instead of people who like every other human being want to experience a fully human life…”

Quote is from US author and commentator Dick Staub. Source, here. Thanks to Canadian extraordinaire Bill Kinnon (pictured in the shades, with Dick Staub). You might also find this interesting - a response to some questions I was asked on spiritual formation. It highlights, for me anyway, some of the emphases that need to be to the fore in church contexts.

God doesn’t care whether we are sinners or not

Paul writes – I first came across Fr. Herbert McCabe last year (d. 2001. Obituary here. A good little article titled, Don't Talk Nonsense; Why Herbert McCabe Still Matters by L. Roger Owens is worth a read) as I prepared content for a workshop in male spirituality. I struck by his insistence on the importance of love. I’ve since come across McCabe often in footnotes, and then a little while ago, Alan Creech directed me to a little article by Fr. Alvin Kimel. The article engages with McCabe and has some simply beautiful quotes from two of McCabe’s books (God, Christ and Us & Faith Within Reason). You can read the whole reflection here. Otherwise, I simply leave you with the McCabe quotes to reflect on:

“…His love for us doesn’t depend on what we do or what we are like. He doesn’t care whether we are sinners or not. It makes no difference to him. He is just waiting to welcome us with joy and love. Sin doesn’t alter God’s attitude to us; it alters our attitude to him, so that we change him from the God who is simply love and nothing else, into this punitive ogre, this Satan. Sin matters enormously to us if we are sinners; it doesn’t matter at all to God. In a fairly literal sense he doesn’t give a damn about our sin. It is we who give the damns. We damn ourselves because we would rather justify ourselves, than be taken out of ourselves by the infinite love of God…”

“…God, of course, is not injured or insulted or threatened by our sin. So, when we speak of him forgiving, we are using the word “forgiving” in a rather stretched way, a rather far-fetched way. We speak of God forgiving not because he is really offended but accepts our apology or agrees to overlook the insult. What God is doing is like forgiveness not because of anything that happens in God, but because of what happens in us, because of the re-creative and redemptive side of forgiveness. All the insult and injury we do in sinning is to ourselves alone, not to God. We speak of God forgiving us because he comes to us to save us from ourselves, to restore us after we have injured ourselves, to redeem and re-create us…”

Kimel’s reflection is attached below as a PDF for ease of reading… The little section on the Prodigal Son (see top of p.2 of the PDF) is delightful.

Download alvin_kimel_finding_the_god_who_is_love_interacting_with_herbert_mccabe.pdf

Holiness and Happiness

Paul notes – “…Holy doesn't mean being perfect or superhuman. Holiness is ‘expressing your humanity in the deepest sense,’ and happiness isn't ‘feeling good.’ Happiness is ‘being centered and focused and balanced in the deepest sense’…"

Robert Ellsberg

The Vocation Questions

Paul writes – Something that listening to a good friend a few Saturday’s ago evoked in me later that evening as I took a little time out to reflect on my own life, at the intersection of work, passion, pull, and vocation:

“This led me to revisit my own understanding of the vocation … question, and I finally asked it the right way. What I asked myself was this: is there anything in my life that I have always felt called or compelled to do, any drive or impulse that I have ultimately been able to ignore?... I can ignore it, but it does not go away. I am happier when I am following it than when I am not. It is something that gives me a sense of integrity and meaning…” (Gregory Augustine Pierce).

What are the strongest or most compelling longings in my life…? What most gives me a sense of integration and meaning? Where do I notice God in those longings and yearnings? “Is there anything [I] feel compelled to do…?”