On the CAC podcast Turning to the Mystics, Mirabai Starr explains what Julian means by “oneing”:  

Instead of talking about merging with God or union with God, Julian coined the term oneing. Oneing is a reflection of what already is for Julian. We already are one with God; we always have been and we ever shall be. This life is nothing if not a reawakening to that reality of our oneness, oneing with God. In some ways, life is a matter of remembering what has always been. That oneing, of course, is rooted in love. It’s not just oneing for the sake of oneing. It’s oneing for love. [1]  

James Finley also reflects on oneing: 

A word for me that echoes with oneing is presence. To put it poetically, there’s just one thing that’s happening. The infinite presence of God is presencing himself, is presencing herself through an act of self-donating presencing. It’s presencing herself and giving herself away whole and complete in and as the gift and miracle of our very presence in our nothingness without God. The oneness is all pervasively the reality of all that is. There is nothing but the oneness. Original sin or brokenness is falling out of, or being exiled from, the infinite oneness that alone is real…. Oneing, Julian was saying, is turning back around to the oneness that’s always there. We don’t want to become one; we become one in realizing the oneness that we never weren’t. It’s oneness in all directions. [2]  

Contemplative theologian Howard Thurman (1899–1981) describes how Jesus and we might experience the presence of God:  

Finally, there must be a matured and maturing sense of Presence. This sense of Presence must be a reality at the personal level as well as on the social, naturalistic and cosmic levels. To state it in the simplest language of religion, modern [humans] must know that [they are] a child of God and that the God of life in all its parts and the God of the human heart are one and the same. Such an assurance will vitalize the sense of self, and highlight the sense of history, with the warmth of a great confidence. Thus, we shall look out upon life with quiet eyes and work on our tasks with the conviction and detachment of Eternity….   

All of us want the assurance of not being deserted by life nor deserted in life…. When Jesus prayed, he was conscious that, in his prayer, he met the Presence, and this consciousness was far more important and significant than the answering of his prayer. It is for this reason primarily that God was for Jesus the answer to all the issues and the problems of life. When I, with all my mind and heart, truly seek God and give myself in prayer, I, too, meet [God’s] Presence, and then I know for myself that Jesus was right. [3]  

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Sarah Young Jesus Calling

Meet Me in early morning splendor. I eagerly await you here. In the stillness of this holy time with Me, I renew your strength and saturate you with Peace. While others turn over for extra sleep or anxiously tune in to the latest news, you commune with the Creator of the universe. I have awakened in your heart strong desire to know Me. This longing originated in Me, though it now burns brightly in you.
     When you seek My Face in response to My Love-call, both of us are blessed. This is a deep mystery, designed more for your enjoyment than for your understanding. I am not a dour God who discourages pleasure. I delight in your enjoyment of everything that is true, noble, right, pure, lowly, admirable. Think on these things, and My Light in you will shine brighter day by day.

RELATED SCRIPTURES:

Isaiah 40:31 (NLT)
31 But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
    They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
    They will walk and not faint.

Additional insight regarding Isaiah 40:31: Even the strongest people get tired at times, but God’s power and strength never diminish. He is never too tired or too busy to help and listen. His strength is our source of strength. When you feel all of life crushing you and you cannot go another step, remember that you can call upon God to renew your strength. Trusting in the Lord is the patient expectation that God will fulfill his promises in his Word and strengthen us to rise above life’s difficulties. Though your faith may be struggling or weak, accept his provisions and care for you.

Psalm 27:4 (NLT)
4 The one thing I ask of the Lord—
    the thing I seek most—
is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
    delighting in the Lord’s perfections
    and meditating in his Temple.

Additional insight regarding Psalm 27:4: By the “House of the Lord” and “his Temple,” David could be referring to the Tabernacle in Gibeon, to the sanctuary he has built to house the Ark of the Covenant, or to the Temple that his son Solomon was to build. David probably had the Temple in mind because he had made plans for it in 1st Chronicles 22. David may also have used the word Temple to refer to the presence of the Lord. David’s greatest desire was to live in God’s presence each day of his life. Sadly, this is not the greatest desire of many who claim to be believers. What do you desire the most? Do you look forward to being in the presence of the Lord?

Philippians 4:8 (NLT)
8 And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.

Additional insight regarding Philippians 4:8: What we put into our mind determines what comes out in our words and actions. Paul tells us to program our mind with thoughts that are true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and worthy of praise. Do you have problems with impure thoughts and daydreams? Examine what you are putting into your mind through television, internet, books, conversations, movies, and magazines. Replace harmful input with wholesome material. Above all, read God’s Word and pray. Ask God to help you focus your mind on what is good and pure. It takes practice, but it can be done.

The place which Jesus takes in our soul he will nevermore vacate, for in us is his home of homes, and it is the greatest delight for him to dwell there…. And the soul who thus contemplates this is made like to [the One] who is contemplated.   
—Julian of Norwich, Showings 22 (Short text), trans. Colledge and Walsh  

On that day, you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I am in you. —John 14:20  

Father Richard highlights Jesus’ teaching on union with God in the Gospel of John:  

“That day” promised in John’s Gospel has been a long time in coming, yet it has been the enduring message of every great religion in history. It is the Perennial Tradition. Divine and thus universal union is the core message and promise—the whole goal and the entire point of all religion. We cannot work up to union with God, because we’ve already received it. [1] 

Julian of Norwich uses the idea of “oneing” to describe divine union. From Revelations of Divine Love, Mirabai Starr translates:  

The human soul is the noblest being [God] has ever created. He also wants us to be aware that he knit the beloved soul of humanity into his own when he made us. The knot that connects us to [God] is subtle and powerful and endlessly holy. And he also wants us to realize that all souls are interconnected, united by this oneness, and made holy in this holiness.… When I look at myself as an individual, I see that I am nothing. It is only in unity with my fellow spiritual seekers that I am anything at all. It is this foundation of unity [this oneing] that will save humanity.… The love of God creates such a unity in us that no man or woman who understands this can possibly separate himself or herself from any other. [2]   

Richard explains:  

This is not some 21st-century leap of logic. This is not pantheism or mere “New Age” optimism. This is the whole point! Radical union is the recurring experience of the saints and mystics of all traditions. We don’t have to discover or prove it; we only have to retrieve what has been re-discovered—and enjoyed again and again—by those who desire and seek God and love. When we have “discovered” it, we become like Jacob “when he awoke from his sleep” and shouted, “You were here all the time, and I never knew it!” (Genesis 28:16).  

As John states in his first Letter, “I do not write to you because you do not know the truth, I am writing to you here because you know it already”! (1 John 2:21; Richard’s emphasis). Like John, I can only convince you of spiritual things because your soul already knows what is true, and that is why I believe and trust Julian’s showings, too. For the mystics, there is only one Knower, and we just participate in that One Spirit.

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Sarah Young

I am the God of all time and all that is. Seek Me not only in morning quietness but consistently throughout the day. Do not let unexpected problems distract you from My Presence. Instead, talk with Me about everything, and watch confidently to see what I will do.
     Adversity need not interrupt your communion with Me. When things go “wrong,” you tend to react as if you’re being punished. Instead of this negative response, try to view difficulties as blessings in disguise. Make Me your Refuge by pouring out your heart to Me, trusting in Me at all times.

Psalm 55:17 (NLT)
17 Morning, noon, and night
    I cry out in my distress,
    and the Lord hears my voice.

Psalm 32:6 (NLT)
6 Therefore, let all the godly pray to you while there is still time,
    that they may not drown in the floodwaters of judgment.

Psalm 62:8 (NLT)
8 O my people, trust in him at all times.
    Pour out your heart to him

[3] 

A Focus on Love, Not Sin

Julian’s revelations offer a loving alternative to the focus on sin which characterized the theology of her time. Mirabai Starr writes:  

Julian of Norwich is known for her radically optimistic theology. Nowhere is this better illumined than in her reflections on sin. When Julian asked God to teach her about this troubling issue, he opened his Divine Being, and all she could see there was love. Every lesser truth dissolved in that boundless ocean…. 

Julian confesses, 

The truth is, I did not see any sin. I believe that sin has no substance, not a particle of being, and cannot be detected at all except by the pain it causes. It is only the pain that has substance, for a while, and it serves to purify us, and make us know ourselves and ask for mercy. [1]  

Starr clarifies where Julian located the impact of sin:  

Julian informs us that the suffering we cause ourselves through our acts of greed and unconsciousness is the only punishment we endure. God, who is All-Love, is “incapable of wrath.” And so it is a complete waste of time, Julian realized, to wallow in guilt. The truly humble thing to do when we have stumbled is to hoist ourselves to our feet as swiftly as we can and rush into the arms of God where we will remember who we really are.  

For Julian, sin has no substance because it is the absence of all that is good and kind, loving and caring—all that is of God. Sin is nothing but separation from our divine source. And separation from the Holy One is nothing but illusion. We are always and forever “oned” in love with our Beloved. Therefore, sin is not real; only love is real. Julian did not require a Divinity degree to arrive at this conclusion. She simply needed to travel to the boundary-land of death where she was enfolded in the loving embrace of the Holy One, who assured her that he had loved her since before he made her and would love her till the end of time. And it is with this great love, he revealed, that he loves all beings. Our only task is to remember this and rejoice.  

In the end, Julian says, it will all be clear.  

Then none of us will be moved in any way to say, Lord, if only things had been different, all would have been well. Instead, we shall all proclaim in one voice, Beloved One, may you be blessed, because it is so: all is well. [2]  

The fact that Julian “saw no wrath in God” does not tempt her to engage in harmful behaviors with impunity. On the contrary, the freedom she finds in God’s unconditional love makes her strive even more to be worthy of his mercy and grace. Yet she does not waste energy on regret. She suggests that we, too … get on with the holy task of loving God with all our hearts and all our minds and all our strength. 

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A Battlefield Hospital

Click Here for Audio Philo of Alexandria once said, “Be kind, because everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.” We are all fighting a terrible battle to be loved; a battle to prove we are significant and acceptable. Some of us fight by moving from one relationship to the next seeking to heal a wound that will not mend. Others fight by purchasing bigger and better tokens of success. Some seek acceptability through achievement, but by their absence at home they inadvertently wound their spouses and children and the cycle continues. Those who are most weary from the battle give up by turning to drugs, alcohol, food, sex, or any other temporary pleasure to mask their pain. In this way, the brokenness of their souls is manifested in their bodies.But hospitality, real hospitality, can be a healing balm on these wounds. To be accepted and loved just as we are—isn’t that what we long for? And to be welcomed into another’s life without facades and falsehoods—isn’t that what we really want? A church that directly, or indirectly, communicates who is welcomed will be an ineffective spiritual hospital. No, the kind of healing hospitality practiced by Jesus is personal, human, and beyond the powers of target-market-based church growth strategies. This is the healing that only Christ, and the community filled with his Spirit, can perform.The religious leaders criticized Jesus for sharing his table with sinners at Matthew’s house. But Jesus was not blind, and he certainly was not ignorant. He knew that his dinner companions were not moral people. He knew the depravity of their lives even better than the Pharisees did. But he loved and welcomed them anyway. He offered these wounded souls a refuge from their battle. Such is the love of God. His love is not blind. He sees us as we truly are. He excavates the broken identity we’ve buried beneath a mountain of fashion denim and overpriced lattes, sees its filthy condition, and says, “Come, my child, sit down and eat. I have prepared a table for you.” As our culture becomes more divided, and as the forces of politics and business sort and label us into increasingly nuanced “interest groups” and “markets,” Christians face a choice. We may either participate in this dehumanizing practice that inflates our group’s sense of righteousness at the expense of another’s rejection, or we may offer an alternative vision of community to that of our hyper-partisan consumer culture. We can either position our churches on the frontline in the culture war or become battlefield hospitals for the wounded to find rest and healing. We can emulate the Pharisees by dividing “sinner” from “saint” and “us” from “them,” or we can affirm our shared human struggle for love, acceptance, and forgiveness. This counter-cultural vision of a healing community may seem difficult to accomplish, but it doesn’t have to be. All that’s needed is good food, good wine, and a table where Jesus Christ decides who is welcome rather than us. DAILY SCRIPTURE MATTHEW 9:9-13 LUKE 22:14-20 WEEKLY PRAYERFrom Symeon Metaphrastes (900 – 987) I am communing with fire. Of myself, I am but straw but, O miracle, I feel myself suddenly blazing like Moses’ burning bush of old…. You have given me your flesh as food. You who are a fire which consumes the unworthy, do not burn me, O my Creator, but rather slip into my members, into all my joints, into my loins and into my heart. Consume the thorns of all my sins, purify my soul, sanctify my heart, strengthen the tendons of my knees and my bones, illumine my five senses, and establish my wholly in your love. Amen.

James Finley names how the suffering of Julian’s time resonates with that of our own:  

Julian was keenly aware of the suffering of the world during her lifetime. It was the bubonic plague, a truly painful death that swept through and killed many, many people. She saw that. During this time, the Archbishop of Canterbury was murdered. During this time, the church had three popes and each pope excommunicated the other two popes. During this time, there was a hundred-year war with France. She was keenly aware of the suffering and the crisis of the world. Also, I’m sure the people who came to the window of her anchorhold or hermitage to talk with her for spiritual direction unburdened on her their struggles, their fears, and so on.  

I think this is where Julian can be especially helpful to us—because we’re so aware of the traumatizing age that we live in, a time of political strife and contention, the brutalities of war, the violence of prejudice, and threats to the environment. We’re sensitized to these things, so how do we then learn to be a healing presence in the midst of an all too often traumatized and traumatizing world? How can Julian’s insight into the mystery of the cross as God’s loving oneness with us help us to stay grounded and present in the midst of the suffering, and not be so easily thrown or overwhelmed by it in our ongoing sensitivity and response to it?… 

In the midst of our time, situation, and circumstances, in the deep down depths, there’s a place deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper in this oneness with God’s sustaining oneness with us. [1]  

English poet and author Ann Lewin points to the tenacity of Julian’s confidence and hope: 

“All shall be well” is one of Julian’s best-known sayings, but we could be forgiven, perhaps, for responding, “You must be joking.” How can anyone who is aware of the reality of life say that all will be well? Christians are sometimes guilty of offering the kind of facile comfort that says, “Don’t worry, things will be better tomorrow.” Experience tells us that they may very well be worse. Julian lived at a time when there were many challenges to well-being, and she must have said “All shall be well” through gritted teeth sometimes: she knew, as we do, that it is a struggle to hold on to that belief when there is so much around us to challenge it. [2]   

Lewin points to Julian’s trust in God for encouragement: 

[God] did not say: You will not be assailed, you will not be belabored, you will not be disquieted, but he said: You will not be overcome. God wants us to pay attention to his words and always to be strong in our certainty, in well-being and in woe, for he loves us and delights in us, and so he wishes us to love him and delight in him and trust greatly in him, and all will be well. [3]  

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Where the Wounded Are Welcomed

Click Here for Audio While reclining at the table in Matthew’s house, enjoying his dinner with the scum of the earth, Jesus noticed the Pharisees had arrived. These religious leaders, masters of image management, and experts in social demographics peered through Matthew’s gate at the festivities in the courtyard. Imagine what they saw. A lavish house, a large table filled with food and drink, the courtyard stirring with obnoxious people dancing, smoking, and laughing—behaving the way people do when good wine is abundant. And right in the middle of the revelry was Jesus, the notorious rabbi, reclining at the table and enjoying the party.The Pharisees were appalled. Calling one of Jesus’ disciples to the gate, they inquired with a disgusted tone. “Why does your master eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But it was not a disciple who replied. Jesus found the question important enough to answer it himself. “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick,” he said (Matthew 9:11-12). The Pharisees saw a rabbi defiling himself among sinners—the enemies of God, but with his response, Jesus was trying to open their eyes to see something more. Not a rabbi among sinners, but a doctor healing the sick. Somehow, by simply sharing a table with Matthew and his ungodly friends, Jesus was bringing healing.The English word hospitality originates from the same Latin root as the word “hospital.” A hospital is literally a “home for strangers.” Of course, it has come to mean a place of healing. There is a link between being welcomed and being healed, and the link is more than just etymological.When we are loved and accepted for who we really are, and welcomed into the life of another person without conditions, it brings healing to our souls. That is what Jesus did by sharing his table with sinners. And it is what his table still does when the church welcomes imperfect, even scandalous people to it.The love of the world is always conditional. Every stratum of our culture and every advertisement we encounter reminds us that our significance and acceptability are rooted in what we achieve, what we have, what we do, how we look, and how we perform. Our acceptability is always conditional, and every human soul carries the wounds of rejection from not meeting someone’s standard. How terrible when that wound is inflicted by a parent, a spouse, a community, or a church. Rejection always leaves a wound—not a visible one, but a cut in our souls whose scar we may carry for the remainder of our lives. It’s at Christ’s table, as we gather to remember his wounds, that we discover ours are welcomed as well. MATTHEW 9:9-13 LUKE 22:14-20 WEEKLY PRAYERFrom Symeon Metaphrastes (900 – 987) I am communing with fire. Of myself, I am but straw but, O miracle, I feel myself suddenly blazing like Moses’ burning bush of old…. You have given me your flesh as food. You who are a fire which consumes the unworthy, do not burn me, O my Creator, but rather slip into my members, into all my joints, into my loins and into my heart. Consume the thorns of all my sins, purify my soul, sanctify my heart, strengthen the tendons of my knees and my bones, illumine my five senses, and establish my wholly in your love. Amen.

I saw that God never started to love humanity, for just as we will ultimately enter into everlasting bliss, fulfilling God’s own joy, his love for us has no beginning and he will love us without end.
—Julian of Norwich, Revelations 53, trans. Mirabai Starr 

Father Richard Rohr introduces Julian of Norwich (1343–c. 1416), a medieval mystic from England:  

Ever since I discovered Julian of Norwich thirty years ago, I have considered her to be one of my favorite mystics. Each time I return to her writings, I always find something new. Julian experienced her sixteen visions, or “showings” as she called them, all on one night in May 1373 when she was very sick and near death. As a priest held a crucifix in front of her, Julian saw Jesus suffering on the cross and heard him speaking to her for several hours. Like all mystics, she realized that what Jesus was saying about himself, he was simultaneously saying about all of reality. That is what unitive consciousness allows us to see.  

Afterwards, Julian felt the need to go apart and reflect on her profound experience. She asked the bishop to enclose her in an anchorhold (hermit’s enclosure) built against the side of St. Julian’s Church in Norwich, England, for which she was later named. We don’t know her real name, since she never signed her writing. (Talk about loss of ego!) The anchorhold had a window into the church that allowed Julian to attend Mass and another window so she could counsel and pray over people who came to visit her.  

Julian first wrote a short text about these showings, but then she patiently spent twenty years in contemplation and prayer, trusting God to help her discern the deeper meanings to be found in the visions. Finally, she wrote a longer text titled Revelations of Divine Love. Julian’s interpretation of her God-experience is unlike the religious views common for much of history up to her time. It’s not based in sin, shame, guilt, or fear of God or hell. Instead, it’s full of delight, freedom, intimacy, and cosmic hope. 

Mirabai Starr offers this translation of Julian’s encouraging account:  

For our beloved God is so good, so gentle and courteous that he can never banish anyone forever….  

I saw and understood that there is a divine will within every soul that would never give in to sin. This will is so good that it could never have evil intent. Rather, its impulse to do good has no limits, and so the soul remains ever-good in the eyes of God. [1]  

The soul is that part of us that has never doubted and that has always said yes to God. It’s in everyone. Even in those moments when we are filled with negativity, there’s a little yes that holds on. That’s what mystics like Julian of Norwich have become aware of and the place to which they return. They trust that infinite yes that shines within all of us.  

Mother Father God

This beautiful word “mother” is so sweet and kind in itself that it cannot be attributed to anyone but God.
—Julian of Norwich, Revelations 60, trans. M. Starr 

Richard Rohr praises Julian’s mystical insight that allowed her to name God “Mother.”  

With these words, Julian offers us an amazing and foundational statement. She is not saying that the most beloved attributes of motherhood can analogously be applied to God, although I am sure she would agree they could. She is saying much more—that the very word mother is so definitive and “beautiful” in most people’s experience (not everybody’s, I must add) that it evokes, at its best, what we mean by God. This is not what most of the world’s religions have taught or believed up to now—except for the mystics. Among these, Julian of Norwich stands as pivotal.  

The concept and human experience of mother is so primal, so big, deep, universal, and wide that to apply it only to our own mothers is far too small a container. It can only be applied to God. This is revolutionary! Mother is, for Julian, the best descriptor for God Herself! I use this to illustrate the courageous, original, and yet fully orthodox character of Julian’s teaching. [1] 

Father Richard considers the archetypal human need for maternal care:  

Julian helps me finally understand one major aspect of my own Catholic culture: why in heaven’s name, for centuries, did both the Eastern and Western Churches attribute so many beautiful and beloved places, shrines, hills, cathedrals, and works of religious art in the Middle East and Europe, not usually to Jesus, or even to God, but to some iteration of Mother Mary? I’ve always thought it was scripturally weak but psychologically brilliant. Many people in Julian’s time didn’t have access to scripture—in fact, most couldn’t read at all. They interpreted at the level of archetype and symbol. The “word” or logos was quite good, but a feminine image for God was even better.   

This seemed to later sola scriptura (by scripture alone) traditions like a huge aberration or even outright heresy. Yet that is how much the soul needed a Mother Savior and a God Nurturer! In a profoundly patriarchal, hierarchical, judgmental, exclusionary, imperial, and warlike period of history and Christianity, I believe it was probably necessary and salutary.  

God is, in essence, like a good mother—so compassionate that there was no need to compete with a Father God—as we see in Julian’s always balanced teachings. [2]  

Mirabai Starr shares Julian’s wisdom:  

I saw three ways to look at the Motherhood of God. The first is that she created our human nature. The second is that she took our human nature upon herself, which is where the motherhood of grace begins. And the third is motherhood in action, in which she spreads herself throughout all that is, penetrating everything with grace, extending to the fullest length and breadth, height and depth. All One Love.

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Living Eucharistically

Click Here for Audio Various Christian traditions use different names for the table sacrament of the church. Some call it “Communion,” others speak about the “Lord’s Supper,” but one of the oldest and most fascinating names is the “Eucharist” from the Greek word meaning thanksgiving. When I first learned this etymology I was confused. Up to that time, my church experience with the table had always been serious and reflective. The bread and cup memorialized the horrific death of Christ—a moment of unimaginable pain and grief and, as Jesus himself called it, “the hour when darkness reigned” (Luke 22:53). As a result, in my church tradition coming to the table on the first Sunday of every month was always somber and never what I would call a celebration. So, why did the early Christians call the meal Eucharist—a word that emphasizes gratitude, joy, and celebration? What did they see in the bread and cup that I had not?Unlike first-century Romans and Jews, the earliest Christians came to see the cross as a symbol of glory rather than one of shame. Through his death, Jesus had disarmed the power of evil, injustice, and death. What the world saw as Jesus’ defeat they came to celebrate as his great victory. As a result, sharing the bread and cup became a way for Christians to express gratitude for their redemption from darkness, as well as a way to celebrate their Lord’s triumph over the world. That’s why early Christians didn’t merely “take Communion.” Instead, they “celebrated the Eucharist.”Seeing the table as a symbol of victory, not just death, and taking the bread and cup as an act of gratitude, not merely an act of remembrance, also carries an unexpected power for believers. Over time, as we celebrate the Eucharist week after week, it can transform our understanding of our own struggles and defeats. Although we may approach the table at times when it feels as if darkness reigns, the table shows us the power of God to redeem all things and turn our mourning into gladness. As Henri Nouwen wrote:“The word ‘Eucharist’ means literally ‘act of thanksgiving.’ To celebrate the Eucharist and to live a Eucharistic life has everything to do with gratitude. Living Eucharistically is living life as a gift, a gift for which one is grateful. But gratitude is not the most obvious response to life, certainly not when we experience life as a series of losses! Still, the great mystery we celebrate in the Eucharist and live in a Eucharistic life is precisely that through mourning our losses we come to know life as a gift.” DAILY SCRIPTURE JOHN 6:31-40 COLOSSIANS 2:13-15 WEEKLY PRAYER. From Symeon Metaphrastes (900 – 987) I am communing with fire. Of myself, I am but straw but, O miracle, I feel myself suddenly blazing like Moses’ burning bush of old…. You have given me your flesh as food. You who are a fire which consumes the unworthy, do not burn me, O my Creator, but rather slip into my members, into all my joints, into my loins and into my heart. Consume the thorns of all my sins, purify my soul, sanctify my heart, strengthen the tendons of my knees and my bones, illumine my five senses, and establish me wholly in your love. Amen.

Richard Rohr has learned from alcoholics and the Twelve Steps that it’s when we hit rock bottom that we realize how our suffering and God’s suffering are connected: 

Only those who have tried to breathe under water know how important breathing really is—and will never take it for granted again. They are the ones who do not take shipwreck or drowning lightly, the ones who can name “healing” correctly, the ones who know what they have been saved from, and the only ones who develop the patience and humility to ask the right questions of God and of themselves.  

It seems only the survivors know the full terror of the passage, the arms that held them through it all, and the power of the obstacles that were overcome. All they can do is thank God they made it through! For the rest of us, it is mere speculation, salvation theories, and “theology.”  

Those who have passed over to healing and sobriety eventually find a much bigger world of endurance, meaning, hope, self-esteem, deeper and true desire, and, most especially, a bottomless pool of love, both within and without. The Eastern fathers of the church called this transformation theosis, or the process of the divinization of the human person. This deep transformation is not achieved by magic, miracles, or priestcraft, but by a “vital spiritual experience” that is available to all human beings. It leads to an emotional sobriety, an immense freedom, a natural compassion, and a sense of divine union that is the deepest and most universal meaning of that much-used word salvation. Only those who have passed over know the real meaning of that word—and that it is not just a word at all. 

It is at precisely this point that the suffering God and a suffering soul can meet. It is at this point that human suffering makes spiritual sense, not to the rational mind, the logical mind, or even the “just and fair” mind, but to the logic of the soul, which I would state in this way:  

Suffering people can love and trust a suffering God.  
Only a suffering God can “save” suffering people.    

Jesus is, more than anything else, the God of all who suffer—more than any god that can be encompassed in a single religion. Jesus is in competition with no world religion, but only in nonstop competition with death, suffering, and the tragic sense of life itself. That is the only battle that he wants to win. He wins by including it all inside of his body, “groaning in one great act of giving birth … waiting until our bodies are fully set free” (Romans 8:22–23).  

The suffering creatures of this world have a divine Being who does not judge or condemn them, or in any way stand aloof from their plight, but instead, a Being who hangs with them and flows through them, and even toward them in their despair. 

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5 for Friday John Chaffee

1.
“Most of the trouble in the world is caused by people wanting to be important.”

• TS Eliot, English Poet
   
  If we take a moment and remember that TS Eliot was considered the first post-modern poet, who wrote during and after the fallout of World War II, this quote takes on a deeper meaning…

The Second World War was atrocious and dehumanizing in the West.  It included concentration camps, exterminations, human experimenting, and the creation of atomic warfare, all while being the most documented war in human history.  Was it caused by the hubris of one man who sought to be important?  Was it the result of many people who sought to be important?

What about our small offenses?  Do we cause harm on a small scale by our insecurities?  Probably.  We may not start world wars but we can certainly cause collateral damage to those around us.

Perhaps this is why the early Church emphasized humility as a vitally important virtue.  Did they see what happens within a person when humility is not present?  I am sure that they did.

2.
“Between God and the soul, there is no between.”

• Julian of Norwich, 14th Century English Mystic
   
  This whole religious myth that we are separate from God until we do something, pray something or believe something is not true.

After all, nothing can separate us from the Love of God (Romans 8:38-39), in whom we all live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28).

3.
“To know all is to forgive all.”

• Early Church Saying
   
  Within classical Christian theology, there are the three attributes of the omnipresence, omnipotence, and omniscience of God.  Respectively, they describe the universal presence of God, the boundless capabilities of God, and the unlimited knowledge of God.  Although these three terms come to us originally from Aristotelian philosophy, the early Church believed them to be true and formalized them officially after Thomas Aquinas published the Summa Theologiae.

Let’s focus on the all-knowing capabilities of God.

The omniscience of God means God knows your genetic makeup, and how it was the result of countless generations of parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents.  That means God knows what household raised you, all the good and all the bad.  That means God knows what mentors and dementors were over you.  That means God knows every single hurt, disappointment, regret, shame, glory, failure, success, tear of joy, tear of pain, grief, loss, gain, embarrassment, victory, addiction, destructive habit, self-loathing, delusion of grandeur, belonging, attachment, community, exclusion, birthday, laugh, gift you have ever experienced.  God also knows all the same details for everyone else in the cosmos.

The early Church believed that to know all is to forgive all.

Once you understand where someone came from, with all the scars and traumas, it is easier to forgive them.  To discover that a school bully goes home to a violent household and feels threatened every evening and morning by simply existing, helps us to forgive them.  Extrapolate that same idea out to every person who has ever existed and you can see what the early Church meant.  For God to know all, actually makes God most able to forgive!

To be God is inherently to know all, to forgive all, to love all, and to reconcile all.  We are sitting here, on the other side of omniscience, and have to work through faith and love to stay open to forgiving the other (which is no simple feat!).  However, if we seek to be like Christ, there is no higher goal to strive for.

4.
“If you are a friend of Christ you should have as friends persons who are benefit to you and contribute to your way of life.  Let your friends be men of peace, spiritual brethren, holy fathers.”

• St. Theodoros the Great Ascetic, 9th Century Syrian Monk
   
  Be mindful of who you spend the most time around.  Just as bad company corrupts good morals, so does good company restore them.

5.
“You’ve survived too many storms to be bothered by raindrops.”

• Unknown
   
  It was 2 am in the forests of southern Maine near Rangeley, I looked up and saw a moose staring back down at me.  Its nostrils snorted out a puff of air that I could see in my headlamp.  I remember yelling, “NIGHT MOOSE!”  Our whole crew of night-hikers bolted out of there, running into the black night because what was out there seemed safer than playing a game of chicken with an awkward 1.5-ton horse-like beast with antlers.

There are times when I forget what I have already lived through.  On these days, I sometimes allow my fear and anxiety to get a hold of me.  As a head-oriented person, it is easy for me to overthink to the point of ruminating and thereby doomcast what might happen.  It’s a problem that I have, and fortunately, it does not happen often.  Plus, now that I can admit it about myself I am less likely to get trapped in that way of thinking.

All that goes to say, there are also times when I remember what I have been through.  I forget how tough I can be.  I forget how I have been within 10 feet of multiple moose, scared off bears, quit unhealthy jobs, been in 2 car accidents, broken a tooth on the dance floor, stared down a mentally unstable drug addict in college, stepped into the ER multiple times, taken buses across the US alone, danced in the rain in Ghana during the dry season, been to the Bergen Belsen concentration camp in Germany, done the longest zipline in the northeast, and so much more.  Hopefully, I can keep adding to that list.

Sometimes we forget how much we have been through.  Sometimes it’s good to remember that what we are going through is just some raindrops, compared to the earlier storms of life.

Psychologist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl (1905–1997) describes the denigrating horror of the Nazi concentration camps:  

In the camps, even the life that was considered worthy only of death was fully exploited to its absolute limit. What a devaluation of life, what a debasement and degradation of humankind!… Were we not told often enough in the concentration camps that we were “not worth the soup,” this soup that was doled out to us as the sole meal of the day, and the price of which we had to pay with the toil of digging through the earth? We unworthy wretches even had to accept this undeserved gift of grace in the required manner: as the soup was handed to him, each prisoner had to doff his cap. So, just as our lives were not worth a bowl of soup, our deaths were also of minimal value, not even worth a lead bullet, just some Zyklon B. [1] 

After his release, Frankl became known for his radical insistence on saying “yes to life in spite of everything”:  
 
It is life that asks the questions, directs questions at us—we are the ones who are questioned! We are the ones who must answer, must give answers to the constant, hourly question of life, to the essential “life questions.” Living itself means nothing other than being questioned; our whole act of being is nothing more than responding to—of being responsible toward—life. With this mental standpoint nothing can scare us anymore, no future, no apparent lack of a future. Because now the present is everything as it holds the eternally new question of life for us. Now everything depends on what is expected of us. As to what awaits us in the future, we don’t need to know that any more than we are able to know it. [2]  

Facing imprisonment under German occupation, Dutch Jewish writer Etty Hillesum (1914–1943) expressed her love for life: 

“Reposing in oneself” … probably best expresses my own love of life: I repose in myself. And that part of myself, that deepest and richest part in which I repose, is what I call “God.” In Tide’s [Hillesum’s Christian friend] diary I often read, “Take him gently into Your arms, Father.” And that is how I feel, always and without cease: “as if I were lying in Your arms, oh God, so protected and sheltered and so steeped in eternity.” As if every breath I take were filled with it and as if my smallest acts and words had a deeper source and a deeper meaning.… 

The reality of death has become a definite part of my life; my life has, so to speak, been extended by death … by accepting destruction as part of life and no longer wasting my energies on fear of death or the refusal to acknowledge its inevitability. It sounds paradoxical: by excluding death from our life we cannot live a full life, and by admitting death into our life we enlarge and enrich [life]. [3]  

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Sarah Young; Jesus Calling

I speak to you from deepest heaven. You hear Me in the depths of your being. Deep calls unto deep. You are blessed to hear Me so directly. Never take this privilege for granted. The best response is a heart overflowing with gratitude. I am training you to cultivate a thankful mind-set. This is like building your house on a firm rock, where life’s storms cannot shake you. As you learn these lessons, you are to teach them to others. I will open up the way before you, one step at a time.

RELATED SCRIPTURE:

Psalm 42:7 (NLT)
7 I hear the tumult of the raging seas
    as your waves and surging tides sweep over me.

Psalm 95:1-2 (NLT)
Psalm 95
1 Come, let us sing to the Lord!
    Let us shout joyfully to the Rock of our salvation.
2 Let us come to him with thanksgiving.
    Let us sing psalms of praise to him.

Additional insight regarding Psalm 95:1-4: Songs, shouts, gratitude, and praise erupted from those gathered to worship the Lord. While there are certainly many examples of stillness and silence in God’s presence taught and illustrated in Scripture, there are equally as many examples of raucous worship. Both peaceful silence and enthusiastic praise are appropriate expressions of worship to our great God.

Matthew 7:24-25 (NLT)
Building on a Solid Foundation
24 “Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. 25 Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock.

Additional insight regarding Matthew 7:24: To “build” on solid rock means to be a hearing, responding disciple, not a phony, superficial one. Practicing obedience becomes the solid foundation to weather the storms of life. See James 1:22-27 (below) for more on putting what we hear into practice.

James 1:22-27 (NLT)
22 But don’t just listen to God’s word. You must do what it says. Otherwise, you are only fooling yourselves. 23 For if you listen to the word and don’t obey, it is like glancing at your face in a mirror. 24 You see yourself, walk away, and forget what you look like. 25 But if you look carefully into the perfect law that sets you free, and if you do what it says and don’t forget what you heard, then God will bless you for doing it.
26 If you claim to be religious but don’t control your tongue, you are fooling yourself, and your religion is worthless. 27 Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.

CAC teacher Barbara Holmes finds strength in collective storytelling:  

We are revived by the stories that we tell about our reality, our bodies, our spirits, and our God. These stories challenge and unsettle us. They touch us in places that facts seldom reach and often move us to action. Most religions have more stories than anything else. Whenever Jesus is asked a question, he answers with a story, a parable. “He did not say anything to them without using a parable” (Matthew 13:34).  

We tell our stories because all of us have survived something, because stories are signposts from the past that give us clues about the future. Finally, our stories are a witness to the next generation and an opportunity to understand the universal as well as the particular in tales of trauma, healing, and survival. [1] 

Writing to his son, Ta-Nehisi Coates names the importance of each person’s story:  

I have raised you to respect every human being as singular, and you must extend that same respect into the past. Slavery is not an indefinable mass of flesh. It is a particular, specific enslaved woman, whose mind is active as your own, whose range of feeling is as vast as your own; who prefers the way the light falls in one particular spot in the woods, who enjoys fishing where the water eddies in a nearby stream, who loves her mother in her own complicated way, thinks her sister talks too loud, has a favorite cousin, a favorite season, who excels at dressmaking and knows, inside herself, that she is as intelligent and capable as anyone. “Slavery” is this same woman born in a world that loudly proclaims its love of freedom and inscribes this love in its essential texts, a world in which these same professors hold this woman a slave, hold her mother a slave, her father a slave, her daughter a slave, and when this woman peers back into the generations all she sees is the enslaved. She can hope for more. She can imagine some future for her grandchildren. [2] 

Holmes continues:  

When I allow myself to succumb to storytelling, I sense connections to others that I seldom notice. I hear the black community’s story in the stories of Jewish persecution and the attempts to destroy the cultures of Native people in the Americas. My memories are specific to the sacred stories of my village, but these stories also resonate with others who have endured similar circumstances.…  

There is a future because the stories are not locked up within our individual lives. Instead, they are held as precious elements of communal wisdom. Our stories do not need opportunities for neat resolution; they just need to be told over and over again … heard and pondered before the dancing begins—and the dancing will begin again because when we lose hope and joy as individuals, the community digs deep into its shared resources and starts the beat yet again. They tap their feet and drum the promises of God. [3] ==================================================

Remember the Future

Click Here for Audio Yesterday, we saw how the table does more than commemorate the past. Based on the Hebrew understanding of remembrance, when we come to the table we are inviting the power of God’s salvation in the past to find completion in the present. But the table is more than a time machine to the past; it is also a glimpse into the future.At the Passover meal, Jesus used the bread and wine to represent his redemptive death. The sorrow of betrayal, abandonment, and death was certainly on Jesus’ mind. His hour of suffering had finally come. But there was more on his mind than the cross. He said to his friends: “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.” And when He had taken a cup and given thanks, he said, “Take this and divide it among you. For I tell you, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.”These words reveal that Jesus was not just focused on God’s past faithfulness or even his present work of redemption through the cross. He was also looking to the future—the fulfillment of the kingdom of God. At that table, Jesus anticipated a future table, a future feast, and a future cup. On the other side of his suffering, he saw a celebration. Revelation 19 offers us a glimpse of the banquet Jesus imagined. Known as the wedding feast of the Lamb, the meal represents the fulfillment of God’s redemptive work in history when all evil is vanquished, the innocent are vindicated, and the world is put right.Like Jesus, the earliest Christians saw the communion table as a prophetic symbol, a window into a future age. For those experiencing great persecution, pain, and trials, the table offered hope. It was a foretaste of the feast that was to come in a world without pain, where we will sit at a table with no traitors, with bodies that shed neither blood nor tears and where God himself will serve us.Therefore, we come to the communion table not just to remember the past, but to remember the future. We gather to feast on the imagination of Christ—to see what he saw, to fill our minds with the sights, and sounds, and smells, of heaven even if the darkness around us feels like hell. When we come to the table as Jesus did, we will discover it is where the past, present, and future converge into a single point of grace. DAILY SCRIPTURE LUKE 22:14-20 REVELATION 19:1-9 WEEKLY PRAYER. From Thomas Ken (1637 – 1711) Glory be to you, O Jesus, my Lord and my God, for feeding my soul with your most blessed body and blood. Oh, let your heavenly food transfuse new life and new vigor into my soul, and into the souls of all that communicate with me, that our faith may daily increase; that we may all grow more humble and contrite for our sins; that we may all love you and serve you, and delight in you, and praise you more fervently, more incessantly, then ever we have done before. Amen.

For who that has read the Gospel does not know that Christ counts all human suffering his own? —Origen, On Prayer 11.2  

Richard Rohr considers the presence of so many evils in the world and God’s solidarity with suffering: 

Theodicy is a branch of theology that has developed many arguments on how there can be a good God, or a just God in the presence of so much evil in the world—about which “God” appears to do nothing.  

The evidence is overwhelming that God fully allows and does not stop genocides, child abuse, brutal wars, unspeakable human and animal suffering, the imprisonment of the innocent, sexual assaults and enslavement, the death of whole species and civilizations, and the tragic lives of addicts and their codependents. Further, God seems to at least “allow” the “natural” disasters of drought, flood, hurricane, tornado, tsunami, plague, famine, and painful diseases of every kind, many of which we call “acts of God,” and all of which have made much of human life “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” [1] What are we to do with this?   

For me, there is a workable and loving way through this. If God is somehow in the suffering, also participating as a suffering object, in full solidarity with the world that God created, then I can make some possible and initial sense of God and this creation. Only if we’re joining God, and God is joining us, in something greater than the sum of all its parts, can we find a way through all of this. Trust in the crucified—and resurrected—Jesus has indeed “saved” many. [2] 

Theologians Grace Ji-Sun Kim and Susan Shaw show how Jesus is a survivor of violent abuse who leads the way for other survivors to find transformation:  

For Jesus, the way of God is the way of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, helping the stranger in a ditch, and demanding equity and justice, whether from judges, religious leaders, or politicians. Surviving with Jesus can redirect our anger, our han, our despair. [3] We can learn to accept ourselves, and we can work to create a better world. Things won’t just be hunky-dory. Transformation is a process. The accurate language for faith is not that “we are saved” but that we are “being saved.” Susan once heard poet Maya Angelou tell the story of a young man who asked her if she were “saved.” “Are you?” Angelou responded. “Yes,” he replied. “Really?” she countered, “Already?” Transformation is a process—and for survivors, it’s a process with its ups and downs, flashbacks, and panic attacks. But, as the resurrection confirms, it is the better way; it is God’s way.  

Surviving with Jesus gives us hope that a different kind of world is possible—a world without sexual abuse, without misogyny and racism, and without violence. That’s a world worth surviving for and working toward with faith that in each of us God truly is making all things new. [4] 

God’s Sustaining Presence

In today’s meditation, CAC teacher James Finley shares his personal experience with domestic abuse. We invite readers to ground themselves as Finley describes growing up with a violent, alcoholic father. Beginning at age twelve, he stayed awake at night, terrified for his mother’s safety. 

If my father was in a good mood when I went upstairs to bed, I felt it was safe for me to go to sleep. But quite often he would already be in an angry mood when I and my younger siblings went to bed. And so I would keep my vigil, sitting at the top of the stairs, listening, trying to figure out if he was just hitting [our mother] again, grabbing hold of her, pulling her hair, or if he was starting to kill her.… 

It was in these ongoing traumatizing conditions that I learned to survive by being hypervigilant, looking for the first signs that my father was beginning to become angry at my mother, my younger brothers, or me. I learned to survive by being as passive as I could, doing my best to do whatever my father wanted me to do, so as not to trigger his rage…. Most of all, I learned to survive by being as interiorly grounded as I could be in God’s sustaining presence, which protected me from nothing, even as it inexplicably sustained me in the ongoing, atmospheric traumas that pervaded my life in those days.  

Seeking solace, Finley created an altar with the Bible, and images of Jesus, Mary, and the saints, at which he prayed every night.  

As I look back at these experiences now, what most stands out to me is a truth of the awakening heart known to those who have been fortunate enough to have experienced it. This truth being the surprising realization that from the hidden depths of a darkness too terrible to name or explain, God can emerge as a sovereign, silent presence that carries us forward, amazed and grateful, into realms of clarity and fulfillment that we could scarcely have imagined.…  

I recall how I would go to my room in the evening to pray. As I knelt on the floor with my rosary wrapped around my hands, the darkness in which I was kneeling was, at the surface level, merely the darkness of the room illumined by the blue light of the vigil candle shining through its glass container…. At an infinitely deeper, more interior level, the darkness in which I knelt in prayer was the primordial darkness in which God’s hidden presence was sustaining me in ways I could not and did not need to comprehend.… 

In looking back at these moments, I can see how I was being led by God into enigmatic and paradoxical waters in which I was invited to realize that ultimately speaking there is no wall, no barrier between the polar opposite realms of trauma and transcendence that meet and merge and interpenetrate each other in endlessly varied ways throughout our lives. 

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The Table is a Time Machine

Click Here for Audio Jesus commanded his followers to break bread and share the cup “in remembrance” of him. Using commonly available items like bread and wine to remember Jesus made sense in the ancient world, but today we have far better tools available. We have video screens, streaming sermons, and mass publishing. We have Christian t-shirts, bracelets, and avatars. We have little Jesus fish on our cars eating little Darwin fish. We have so many things to remind us of Jesus; do we really need the communion table anymore?Well, that depends on what Jesus meant by “remembrance.” If remembering is merely a mental act of recollection, which is how modern people understand it, then the Lord’s Table seems unnecessary and redundant. The ancient Jewish understanding of remembrance, however, was very different than ours. Theologian Paul Bradshaw puts it this way: “In the Jewish world, remembrance was not a purely mental activity…it was not simply about nostalgia for the past…but about asking God to remember his people and complete his saving purpose today” (emphasis added).In the ancient world, remembrance was not merely the mental recollection of past events. Rather, it meant recalling a past event so that the power of that event may enter the present. For Jesus and his disciples, the redemptive work of God was not something to reminisce about. It was not just a story to be mentally recalled. The redemption of God, and his power to deliver his people, was continuing right into the present.This is why Jesus celebrated the Passover meal with his friends. The Passover was a symbol of how God saved his people from slavery in the past, but Jesus appealed to that power and applied it to their present circumstances. He used the unleavened bread from the Passover meal and gave it a contemporary meaning. “This is my body, broken for you.” And the same with the wine. “This is the new covenant in my blood.” The meal was not just about remembering what God had done in the past—Jesus was inviting that saving power into the present.So when Jesus told his Jewish followers to take the bread and the cup in “remembrance of me” he was instructing them to do something more than a mental exercise. The table was to be more than an edible history lesson. When we come to the table we are not just recalling a story from 2,000 years ago. The table is a time machine through which God’s saving power from the past is transported into the present. If we believe the table is just a mental exercise, then it’s no surprise why we’ve ignored it in our worship in favor of hypnotic videos and loud music. But, what if we’re wrong? What if the table isn’t just about remembering God’s past redemption? What if it’s about experiencinghis redemption today? What if, in remembering, we bring the salvation of the past into the present? If that’s what Christ intended the table to be, then by marginalizing it in our gatherings we have unknowingly marginalized the power of God and replaced it with a performance by mere men. DAILY SCRIPTURE EXODUS 13:3-10 LUKE 22:14-20 WEEKLY PRAYER From Thomas Ken (1637 – 1711) Glory be to you, O Jesus, my Lord and my God, for feeding my soul with your most blessed body and blood. Oh, let your heavenly food transfuse new life and new vigor into my soul, and into the souls of all that communicate with me, that our faith may daily increase; that we may all grow more humble and contrite for our sins; that we may all love you and serve you, and delight in you, and praise you more fervently, more incessantly, then ever we have done before. Amen.

Public theologian Rachel Held Evans (1981–2021) recounts the many ways Jesus talked about the reign of God: 

Jesus didn’t talk much about the church, but he talked a lot about the kingdom….

In contrast to every other kingdom that has been and ever will be, this kingdom belongs to the poor, Jesus said, and to the peacemakers, the merciful, and those who hunger and thirst for God. In this kingdom, the people from the margins and the bottom rungs will be lifted up to places of honor, seated at the best spots at the table. This kingdom knows no geographic boundaries, no political parties, no single language or culture. It advances not through power and might, but through acts of love and joy and peace, missions of mercy and kindness and humility. This kingdom has arrived, not with a trumpet’s sound but with a baby’s cries, not with the vanquishing of enemies but with the forgiving of them, not on the back of a warhorse but on the back of a donkey, not with triumph and a conquest but with a death and a resurrection….

When we consider all the messes the church has made throughout history, all the havoc she has wreaked and the things she has destroyed, when we face up to just how different the church looks from the kingdom most of the time, it’s easy to think maybe Jesus left us with a raw deal. Maybe he pulled a bait and switch, selling us on the kingdom and then slipping us the church. 

Evans names how the church is called to manifest the kingdom of God:  

This word for church, ekklesia, was used at the time of Jesus to refer… to the people of God, assembled together. So church is, essentially, a gathering of kingdom citizens, called out—from their individuality, from their sins, from their old ways of doing things, from the world’s way of doing things—into participation in this new kingdom and community with one another….

The purpose of the church, and of the sacraments, is to give the world a glimpse of the kingdom, to point in its direction…. 

In this sense, church gives us the chance to riff on Jesus’ description of the kingdom, to add a few new metaphors of our own. We might say the kingdom is like St. Lydia’s in Brooklyn where strangers come together and remember Jesus when they eat. The kingdom is like the Refuge in Denver, where addicts and academics, single moms and suburban housewives come together to tell each other the truth. The kingdom is like Thistle Farms where women heal from abuse by helping to heal others….

And even still, the kingdom remains a mystery just beyond our grasp…. All we have are almosts and not quites and wayside shrines. All we have are imperfect people in an imperfect world doing their best to produce outward signs of inward grace and stumbling all along the way.  

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5 For Friday John Chaffee

1.
“Thinking is difficult, that’s why most people judge.”

• Carl Jung, Swiss Psychologist
   
  Holding two, opposing truths at the same time is not easy.  Paradox is not something that ordinary logic and rationality can comprehend or control.  This is especially true when we consider one another.  It is possible for me to both be kind and a jerk within the same day.  Which one is true?  Both.  The internal tension we feel around paradoxes can be so great that we dismiss reality and make broad-stroke assumptions about the world to do away with the complexity.

Lord, have mercy.  Help us to live in the tension rather than judge one another.

2.
“I really only love God as much as I love the person I love the least.”

• Dorothy Day, Founder of the Catholic Worker
   
  This quote frequently pops up in my mind.  Teresa of Avila also says that it is impossible to know if we love God, but that our love for God is best examined/qualified by how we love people around us.  It is entirely possible that Dorothy Day knew the works of Teresa of Avila but for now, let us ask who we love the least, and what we can do to rectify that.

3.
“Don’t just teach your children to read. Teach them to question what they read. Teach them to question everything. The value of an education is not the learning of many facts but the training of the mind to think.”

• George Carlin, American Comedian
   
  This may be controversial, but I never found George Carlin as particularly funny.  Every one of his standup specials, while crude, I felt as though was the work of a philosopher who was looking to deeply examine everything.

Education for the purpose of “copying and pasting” information from one source into the mind of a student is not education.  I agree with Carlin that proper education invites people to be formed into fully autonomous and independent thinkers.

4.
“Those persons prove themselves senseless who exaggerate the mercy of Christ, but are silent as to the judgment.”

• Irenaeus, Against Heresies Book IV
   
  Whenever I have conversations with people about the “restoration, reconciliation, renewal of all things in Christ”, they tend to bring up the same objections.  Often, they push back because they believe that the reconciliation of all things means no accountability for anyone.

In response, I bring up how the early Patristics taught that within God’s final plan, there is both full accountability and full amnesty.  The paradox of both of those things being true is distressing to our dualistic and either/or understanding of the world.  On the other hand, I believe that Divine Love is capable of making the paradox true.

Irenaeus, with the quote above, is trying to correct a misconception that some people believe in the absolute mercy of God but have little ability to understand, let alone continue to preach, the judgment of God.  For myself, once I allowed myself to submit to the possibility that within God there is unavoidable grace and unavoidable judgment, then the Bible began to make more sense.

After all, it is not that God’s mercy conflicts with God’s judgment, it is that it is God’s judgment to be merciful to all (Romans 11:32).

5.
“The entire cosmos is one vast burning bush, permeated by the fire of the divine glory and power.”

• Kallistos Ware, Eastern Orthodox Theologian
   
  A few years ago, I was fixated on the story of Exodus 3.  It is the famous chapter in which the shepherd Moses inadvertently runs into a burning bush.  From within the bush, God called out to him and gave him the divine task of setting the Israelites free.

What I enjoy most about Exodus 3 is that it is the reversal of everything that happened in Genesis 3.

In Genesis 3, God is out walking in the wilderness (Eden) while humanity is hidden in a bush.  God asks a question and humanity replies.  Meanwhile, in Exodus 3, humanity is out walking in the wilderness, while the Divine is hidden in a bush.  Humanity asks a question and the Divine answers.

There is even more Hebrew brilliance to these two corresponding passages, but for now, let us take the story to infer that God is hiding everywhere within nature and waiting for us to give a second and deep enough look to find him.  Perhaps this is the truth of what happens whenever we spend time near rivers, mountains, shores, plains, or beneath starry skies.  God is ever-present within our physical realm.