02-25-2020 Journal Entry

In the prayer time at the end of worship with Milwaukee Mennonite Church (February 23). Chris Gooding asked for prayer for the L’Arche Communities in the wake of revelations that Jean Vanier, L’Arche founder, had engaged in totally inappropriate sexual behavior with a number of women for many years – apparently “coached” in this by his mentor Fr. Thomas Philippe. Thankfully (I suppose) these were not “core members” (mentally disabled L’Arche members), but a group that was seeking spiritual (mystical) experience. As a “spiritual director,” Vanier (and Philippe) as it were, seduced these women into sexual acts with them presented as experiences with the love of Jesus and/or Mary. I cringe even to write this. Apparently the group was a guise for Vanier (and Philippe) to recruit, groom, select, and misuse women as sexual predators are wont to do.

On hearing this, I became so distressed that I broke down and wept in worship. Thought I had not met Jean Vanier, our four months with L’Arche Daybreak in 1992 brought me into the circle of his influence. His presence was clear in the community. I read much of his writing and came to regard him as something of a personal hero. When it comes to my spiritual understanding of people who are weak and marginalized (poor, minorities, immigrants, etc.) he definitely shaped my thinking. And now I am asking myself if I have inadvertently absorbed evil, destructive thought patterns too. I am feeling fragile and vulnerable.

If Jean Vanier (regarded with respect among those who are concerned for people with mental disabilities almost of the level of Mother Teresa) could crash this way, I am certainly not exempt or immune, though I know of nothing in my past on a comparable level. But this is not a limited experience. John Howard Yoder contributed much, not only to my pacifist Christian ethic, but also my whole adult life Anabaptist worldview. And I did meet and correspond with him. As I have pondered the Barman Declaration that seems to me to be so relevant to the schism in the US churches in the Trump era. I am troubled by learning more about Karl Barth’s adultery and questioning whether his writing can be trusted.

Then in my Prayer Psalms today, I encountered these lines that seemed to give me a way to pour this out to God.

Psalm 25:17

Relieve the troubles of my heart, and bring me out of my distress.

Psalm 25:21

May integrity and uprightness preserve me, for I wait for you.

Psalm 55:4-8

My heart is in anguish within me, the terrors of death have fallen upon me. Fear and trembling come upon me, and horror overwhelms me. And I say, “O that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest; truly, I would flee far away; I would lodge in the wilderness; I would hurry to find a shelter for myself from the raging wind and tempest.”

Psalm 55:12-14

It is not enemies who taunt me— I could bear that; it is not adversaries who deal insolently with me— I could hide from them. But it is you, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend, with whom I kept pleasant company; we walked in the house of God with the throng.

With Candy’s Alzheimer’s, I cannot discuss this with her, so it stews within me, even as I try to keep her from seeing my inner distress.

I have an appointment this morning with my therapist, Lonna Kannenberg, and will explore how to deal with this, and Candy, and her Dad (with whom I had a good time yesterday talking while working on his taxes), but not the direct spiritual implications. Thursday I am getting together with Peter Eash-Scott of Milwaukee Mennonite Church. It’s been a while, but these have been good conversations. I’ve asked my spiritual director, Matthew Keiser, for an appointment to really look at the spiritual angle of my concern (appointment on Thursday March 5).

While Lonna is older than my sons (I believe she’s also a grandmother), she’s younger than I am, which is normal now that I am in my 70s. But Peter and Matthew are the same generation as my sons, and I know they have articulated some level of looking to me as a model, while I am very aware that I am looking to them to help me on this journey. I guess looking down a generation for guidance and support is normal as we embark on the final laps of our race (with a cloud of witnesses cheering as they wait for us, per Hebrews 12:1-2).

The Sky Gets Dark, Slowly

https://medium.com/@sockapalaniappan/the-sky-gets-dark-slowly-146842d772dc

Thanks for sharing this. I will need to go back to it for deeper reflection. I really identified with our journey. In our 70s, my wife was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in 2016, and her 93 year old Dad (she's his only child) moved from MN to a senior living facility near us in WI. As I am aware that my own darkness is coming slowly, I am in the role of dual caregiver for two people I love whose darkness is accelerating. We have good family support (sharing a duplex with middle son and family); I participate in a caregiver support group; I see a therapist regularly; I keep up my contemplative/spiritual rhythms; I try to eat and exercise and rest/sleep healthily; I get my own time writing fiction; I try to maintain balance, rhythm, pace, priorities. My wife says that every day we cry a little and laugh a little. We purposely celebrate every day's little joys, trying not to let anticipation of future challenges (or whether my wife will remember them tomorrow) steal our joy. Back in 2011 I wrote a novel about faith, doubt, and wrestling with God when facing mortality, which has continued to help me on this journey as the sky darkens slowly but relentlessly.

Look Through Not At the Picture Behind the Glass

Yesterday, February 21, 2020 I used Psalm 80:3, 7, 19 for my centering prayer anchor. "Restore us, O Lord God of hosts, let your face shine that we may be saved.

It was a sunny afternoon and the sunlight shining through the bezel of the stained glass windows on our south wall, either side of the faux fireplace in our living room was casting oval rainbows about 2"X4" around the room and dining room - one of the delights of this space in our home. I am aware of them and how they move and change position through the day and through the seasons. But I wasn't connecting my awareness and appreciation of them with my centering prayer.

Then I noticed one of them moving across my glass icon (thanks Boyles of Central Christian Church in Dallas for bringing it back from a trip to Europe several years ago). As it crossed the face of Christ, I connected with the radiant shine of God's face mentioned in the Psalm. What a delight for today!

For my friends who are not familiar with (or even uncomfortable with) Eastern Orthodox icons, they are not intended to be pictures to look at but windows through which to look for deeper spiritual realities. That this icon is painted on the back side of a piece of glass emphasizes this. No, I do not pray to the icon. Rather in centering prayer, after having meditated on Scripture earlier in the day, the icon (and oil lamp with a flame to remind me how often fire is a sign of God's presence in Scripture) remind me that I am focusing on sitting silently in the presence of Christ.

Accessible Perfection

In the section of the Sermon on the Mount for next Sunday’s lectionary reading (February 23, 2020), Matthew 5:38-48, Jesus made two specific allusions to Leviticus 19:1-18 (which is logically the lectionary reading from the Hebrew Scriptures).

This section of Leviticus opens with “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” (v. 2) Jesus concluded this section of the Sermon on the Mount with “Be perfect, therefore, as you heavenly Father is perfect.” (v. 48) Jesus’ example of this perfection is that the heavenly Father “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” Linking the Levitical source with Jesus’ allusion suggests that God’s perfect holiness is expressed through love (steadfast love – hesed repeatedly in the Hebrew Scriptures, especially the Psalms) extended without regard to presumed worthiness.

Jesus sets this as the foundation for his instruction to “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (v. 44) Interestingly, Jesus set this against what must have been a common distortion of Leviticus 19:18 when he said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’” for Leviticus says nothing about hating enemies. Jesus went on to acknowledge our natural tendency to love those who are close to us and like us, that is what anyone would do. His call to love enemies lifts his expectations above ordinary human compassion to aspire and even participate in God’s perfect holiness by loving those who are not like us, even those who do not deserve to be loved, even our enemies. In case you are prone to protest that you have no enemies, consider who might think of you as their enemy.

Jesus’ allusions to Leviticus are simple extensions of God’s consistent love for all people in all times and all places. He made no effort to delve into the complexities of understanding, interpreting, and applying the Levitical Holiness Code for his time or ours. Plenty of things there were so specific to the ancient Hebrews that we easily recognize they are not relevant to us, and may not have addressed things in Jesus’ time either. Some things there evoke controversial debates as to whether and how they may or may not address concerns of our time. Overall, the point of the Levitical Holiness Code was to distinguish the ancient Hebrews from their pagan neighbors, to prohibit practices intrinsic to the idolatry that was a lure to them. I only want to acknowledge that reality and not try to sort that out. Not only is it beyond my expertise, I don’t want to get sidetracked from the power of how Jesus drew on Leviticus in the Sermon on the Mount.

Embedded in the Levitical Holiness Code (and other sometimes puzzling things in the Hebrew Scriptures) are profound affirmations that transcend times, places, and cultures. I believe this is one of them that is incisive for contentious issues in our present time and context. Between the two lines Jesus alluded to is this.

When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the Lord your God. (vv. 9-10)

A lot of contentious debate currently surrounds how, if at all, to support and protect the poorest and aliens among us. On one side are those who argue that this is a public and even government responsibility. On the other side are those who argue that tax supported, government programs are an unjustly imposed charity, which should be personal and voluntary. Gleaning is not limited to ancient Hebrew society, but it is codified here and elsewhere in the Hebrew Scriptures. While it was not a government program, it was an expression of both justice and compassion. To go back through a field or vineyard or orchard so nothing would be left for gleaners was regarded as theft from the poor, from the community, and from God. In a non-mechanical, agrarian society abundance was for the benefit of the whole community, and not a right to be claimed by property holders (the idea of personal property was inconsistent with the understanding that those who held land at the moment did so in trust for future generations and the whole community, so as Leviticus 25:23 says, “The land must not be sold permanently, because the land is mine (God’s) and you are but aliens and my tenants.”) Literal gleaning is not too practical in our urban technological society. While gleaning was enforced by social norms (see the book of Ruth) and not government mandate, in our society we depend on government for structures that support the common good. The government is not some alien entity imposing its external will, but even when we don’t like it, government is us and how we live together in a large, complex society.

I am suggesting that in both public and private spheres, we who are people of The Book (Jews and Christians alike) do the hard work of creative thinking and advocacy for ways to bring the principles of gleaning into our society. Abundance is to be shared. The poor are helped in ways that respect their dignity and contribution to the society. Those who are least able (and maybe least deserving) are supported with justice and compassion acknowledging our shared humanity (theologically created in the image of God).

I am also suggesting that pitting voluntary charity and public/government support against each other is a false dichotomy. Deuteronomy 15 addresses a number of justice concerns, several of which involve the poor and are implemented through the practice of the Sabbatical Year and the urging “not to be hard-hearted or tightfisted toward your needy neighbor.” (v. 7) It recognizes the paradoxical realities of shared human life. “There will, however, be no one in need among you.” (v. 4) and “There will never cease to be some in need on the earth.” (v. 11), which Jesus alluded to in Matthew 26:11, “You will always have the poor with you.” not as an excuse for dismissing caring for them as hopeless but as a perpetual incentive to be generous in his name. Thus, Deuteronomy endorses voluntary generosity, not in lieu of public/government action, but as an expression of loving your neighbor as yourself. “Provide liberally out of your flock, your threshing floor, and your wine press, thus giving to him some of the bounty with which the Lord your God has blessed you.” (v. 14) “Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.” (v. 11)

I have observed many times that Psalm 72 is clear that justice and compassion for the poor, the foreigners, the weak, etc. is the responsibility of the king, government. Yes, that was ancient Israel, but the Psalm makes no comment on the king’s personal faith, and I believe it is consistent with why the New Testament teaches respect for government, even though for the first three centuries of the Church, government largely excluded and even persecuted them. In my half century of praying through the Psalms monthly, on the 12^th of each month I come to that Psalm and pray in that way for whoever is US President at the time and all others in government service. So I affirm that compassion and justice, support and provision for the poor is a concern of the whole society, both private and government. We who claim to base our worldviews on the Bible (with admittedly varying approaches) ought to be leading the way for working together to these ends. http://nstolpepilgrim.blogspot.com/search?q=how+I+am+praying+for+President

Beatitudes: Blessing to those on the Margins, Challenge to the Privileged

A part of the Meditatio (second step) of Lectio Divina, asks how the passage might have been received and understood by its original readers/audience and how is that different from how I hear/read it? Last week as I was reflecting on (marinating in – Thanks Mark Louden for a more vivid image than my “soaking in Scripture”) the beatitudes, I became aware that the beatitudes challenge the position of privilege I have enjoyed and taken for granted all of my life, but Jesus’ original audience undoubtedly heard them with great joy and relief that from their lifetimes struggling on the margins of their society they are blessed in the Kingdom of God. (Please don’t fuss about the gender/hierarchy implications of “kingdom” in our time. Just enter into the delight of those who heard Jesus put them at the center of God’s community of love.) This awareness had been dawning on me through the week and came into sharp focus as I listened to Mark Louden’s message in worship with Milwaukee Mennonite Church yesterday. Thanks, Mark!