Richard Rohr finds clear and unambiguous respect for creation in both Jesus and his own Franciscan tradition:

Creation itself—not ritual or spaces constructed by human hands—was the primary cathedral for Francis of Assisi (1182–1226). It is no accident that the majority of Jesus’ stories and metaphors are based on human and natural observations, not classroom theology. It is not unimportant that both Jesus and Francis were peripatetic teachers—talking while walking—on the road of the world. In our own time, major teachers like Thomas Berry and Ilia Delio have rediscovered this natural and universal theology.

The gospel transforms us by putting us in touch with that which is much more constant and satisfying, literally the “ground of our being,” and has much more “reality” to it than theological concepts or the mere ritualization of reality. Daily cosmic events in the sky and on the earth are the Reality above our heads and beneath our feet every minute of our lives: a continuous sacrament. I find that a preoccupation with religious rituals tends to increase the more we remain untouched by Reality Itself—to which the best rituals can only point.

Jesus himself commonly points to things like the red sky, a hen, lilies, the fig tree, a donkey caught in a pit, the birds of the air, the grass in the field, the temple animals that he released from their cages, and on and on. He was clearly looking at the seemingly “nonreligious” world, ordinary things all around him, and appeared to do most of his teaching outside. Francis said, “Wherever we are or wherever we travel, we have a cell with us. Brother Body is our cell, and the soul is the hermit who remains inside the cell to pray to God…. If the soul does not remain in quiet and solitude in its cell, a cell made by hands does little good to a religious.” [1]

Both Jesus and Francis knew that everything created was a message about the nature of God. Nature was not empty of divinity. Seeing nature as secular or merely functional created much of the loneliness and seeming meaninglessness in our contemporary worldview.

In the five-day Men’s Rites of Passage (MROP) [2]—which was a focus of my work for fifteen years—so many men felt that prayers and rituals inside of human-scale buildings were rather domesticated and controlled. They often perceived that the salvation offered inside these artificial constructs was also “small” and churchy. Almost without exception, the greatest breakthroughs for our men occurred during extended times of silence in nature, where the human and the merely verbal were not in control, or during rituals that were raw and earthy.

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Joy Fueled

Unforced Rhythms of Grace

Jesus says it this way in Matthew 11:28-29 MSG: Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. In the LK10 Community, we are committed to helping people learn the unforced rhythms of grace by walking and working with Jesus.

The word unforced is particularly important. We think this is what it means to be joy fueled. Instead of forcing ourselves to do and be, we show our weakness, our exhaustion, our true feelings and we let Jesus meet us there, hold us, invite us into his joy and pull us through. We think this is a radical departure from the ways that Christians have often been motivated in the past, just as it was a radical departure for the Jewish leaders when Jesus said it 2,000 years ago.

If you are anything like us, you may be wondering: With such a beautiful invitation from Jesus himself to work from a rested, joy-filled space, why do we not enter into it more often and let it motivate us? Good question. It reminds us of when God said to the Hebrews: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it!” (Isaiah 30:15 NIV). Apparently, it is very difficult for us to rest and receive strength. We seem to gravitate towards trying to prove ourselves worthy.

White, John C.; Daniels, Toni M.; Smith, Dr Kent. Joy Fueled: Catalyzing a Revolution of Joyful Communities (LK10 Core Values) (pp. 16-18). LK10. Kindle Edition.

CAC teacher Brian McLaren has a deep love for the natural world and all that it reveals about God and our place on the Earth:

If we’d like to bring our God-concepts into better sync with a Creator who makes sense in this particular universe, we’d better face up to this sobering fact: God loves tortoises. (Jolt)

And really, God loves reptiles in general. (Not to mention insects, if we judge based on how many species exist: three hundred thousand beetles, seventeen thousand butterflies, and five thousand dragonflies, for example, out of over two million insects in total.)

Fathom it: For 245 million years, there were zero people around, but lots and lots of reptiles….

Apparently, God did not say, “Wow. These things are boring.… Praise be to me, for my sake let’s get these reptiles out of here so we can get some religious primates evolving, fast!”

No. For 245 million years, and for 99.999 percent of the 66 million years since, God was happy to have a good universe that included neither a single human nor a single religion, but lots and lots and lots of reptiles….

For humans to make sense to ourselves, I think we’re going to have to rediscover our kinship with the reptiles—and the fish, insects, birds, mammals, and palo santo trees—with which we share the world.…

In his beautiful Canticle, [Saint Francis] describes how we humans are related to all our kin in the family tree of creation. I’ve adapted his prayer as a song:

Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Sun,
who brings the light of day;
He’s beautiful and radiant, like you!
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon,
Through all her sister stars.
They’re luminous and wonderful, like you!

Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Wind
And Sister Cloud and Storm.
They bring flowers from Mother Earth for you.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Bird;
You gave him wings to fly.
He sings with joy and soars up high for you.

Through Sister Water, Lord, be praised;
She’s humble, useful, too.
She’s precious, clear and pure, O Lord, like you.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
Whose beauty glows at night.
He’s cheerful, powerful, and strong, like you.

Be praised through all those who forgive,
The patient, kind, and brave,
Enduring suffering, trial, and pain, like you.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Death,
Who will embrace all life,
And carry us up to the arms of you….

McLaren comments:

In this grand vision, we aren’t ruling from the heights of a great top-down pyramid or chain of being, generals under King God in the divine chain of command. In this grand vision, we aren’t given by our rank a carte blanche to dominate, oppress, exploit, and exterminate everything below us. No, we aren’t at the top of anything; we’re simply at the tip, the tip of one small branch of a very huge, verdant tree, and all created things are our grandparents, cousins, and siblings.

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Joy Fueled

Wilder and Warner go on to explain that Western Christianity has overemphasized propositional truth (left-brain) and underemphasized relational truth (right-brain). Relational truth is reflected in the Hebrew word yada which is translated “to know.” It is not enough to know about God. He wants us to know him in a deep, communal, experiential way. And… he wants us to let him know us in the same way. Jesus addressed this problem with the Jews. You have your heads in your Bibles constantly because you think you’ll find eternal life there. But you miss the forest for the trees. These Scriptures are all about me! And here I am, standing right before you, and you aren’t willing to receive from me the life you say you want. John 5:39-40 MSG

These Jews were the smartest and best scripturally-educated people around. No one knew the Scriptures better than they did. But what they totally missed was exactly what those very Scriptures pointed toward—a relationship with Jesus. We affirm that both ways of knowing are important. It’s not head or heart, but head and heart. We in LK10 are seeking to restore a balance by equipping and training people in how to connect with each other and with God on a heart level as well as a head level. For example, in our Church 101 course, people learn to practice two simple rhythms of attention as a pathway to relational connection. Pastors, missionaries, elders, seasoned and new Christians alike finally discover a relationship with God that they only dreamed was possible. Given that knowledge as propositional, left-brain truth alone does not result in godly character or sustainable transformation, it is inadequate to motivate us in ministry and mission. Did Knowledge Move the Disciples to Mission? Consider the disciples. Here’s the commission that Jesus gave them… All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. Matthew 28:18-20

The part of this instruction that the disciples couldn’t process was “all nations.” They had walked with Jesus for three years in Israel. They were all Jews and understood making disciples of other Jews. But that was the limit of their thinking. The Greek word for nations is ethne, which can also be translated as “gentiles.” A gentile is simply someone who isn’t a Jew and is therefore a heathen and a pagan. During Jesus’ time, many Jews took such pride in their cultural and religious heritage that they considered Gentiles “unclean,” calling them “dogs” and “the uncircumcised.” To make matters worse, it was the Roman Gentiles who were the hated occupiers of Israel at that time.

It’s hard for us today to imagine the negative feelings that Jews in Israel, including, no doubt, the disciples, had towards gentiles. We see this inward focus in Acts 1:6. Jesus had given specific instructions to make disciples of all the nations/gentiles. The disciples don’t even ask about that. Rather, the only question they can think about has to do with Israel. “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” They simply couldn’t imagine anything outside of Israel and the Jewish people. So, Jesus, after refusing to answer their question, once again shows the scope of what he is thinking. He told them that when the Spirit comes on you, you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem (“Ok, we can do that.”), and in all Judea and Samaria (“Ok, maybe we can do that.”), and to the ends of the earth. (“I’m sorry. What did you say?”) So, what eventually motivated the disciples to go to the ends of the earth and share the good news of Christ with the gentile nations? It wasn’t the knowledge of the great need of the world to know him. And, it wasn’t even the specific instructions of their master, Jesus. It was only the active presence of the Holy Spirit with them that could bridge the cultural gap and guide them into attempting the seemingly impossible.

White, John C.; Daniels, Toni M.; Smith, Dr Kent. Joy Fueled: Catalyzing a Revolution of Joyful Communities (LK10 Core Values) (pp. 23-26). LK10. Kindle Edition.

We now turn our thoughts to the Creator, or Great Spirit, and send greetings and thanks for all the gifts of Creation. Everything we need to live a good life is here on Mother Earth. For all the love that is still around us, we gather our minds together as one and send our choicest words of greetings and thanks to the Creator. Now our minds are one.  
—Thanksgiving Address, Haudenosaunee Confederacy

Potawatomi author Kaitlin Curtice invites us to consider how we pray in, for, and with nature: 

The gifts of prayer—of sweetgrass, sage, tobacco, and cedar—are said to have been given to us to keep us connected to Segmekwe, Mother Earth, to share her good gifts and to ask Creator to hear us, to be present with us. As a Potawatomi person, I pray to remember, and I pray to keep the shkodé, the fire, lit inside of me….

Growing up in the Baptist tradition, I heard little mention of communicating with God through the earth. On Sundays, we would often hear sermons about how prayer is something we should just try harder at, instead of something we enter into. When I began to pray in Potawatomi, I understood something different about prayer—that it is a holistic act that involves all of me, and all of the creatures around me, communing with God.

If we truly believe that God surrounds us, we believe that prayer is an everyday experience of being alive…. When you step outside and engage with the world in quiet listening, prayer will happen, and it will take on its own way of being for you. Perhaps prayer is just poetry, and we are living the expressions of what it means to be human. This is why Creator gave us gifts to remember.… When I burn sage or lay tobacco down, I know that I am tethered to a love that has remained steady throughout the centuries and that always calls me back to its own sacredness. And that sacredness will always lead me back out to the world to do the work of love.

Curtice frequents a state park on land where the Muscogee Creek and Cherokee peoples lived: 

I hear the trees speaking, and they remember everything. As the rocks invite me to sit, they’re asking me to take a moment to remember. And when the water stills to reflect the blue Georgia sky, I am being asked to remember, to reclaim something. So I lay my tobacco on the water’s surface and whisper, “You’re not forgotten.” I listen to the ancestors and to the created world that longs to tell its own stories. I whisper a prayer to Kche Mnedo, to Mamogosnan, Creator, who never forgets, who knows the language of every tribe…. If we listen, the land is speaking. If we listen, we are doing the active work of paying attention, not only to our own lives but also to history telling its own story again and again.

PROBLEMS ARE PART OF LIFE. They are inescapable, woven into the very fabric of this fallen world. You tend to go into problem-solving mode all too readily, acting as if you have the capacity to fix everything. This is a habitual response, so automatic that it bypasses your conscious thinking. Not only does this habit frustrate you, it also distances you from Me. Do not let fixing things be your top priority. You are ever so limited in your capacity to correct all that is wrong in the world around you. Don’t weigh yourself down with responsibilities that are not your own. Instead, make your relationship with Me your primary concern. Talk with Me about whatever is on your mind, seeking My perspective on the situation. Rather than trying to fix everything that comes to your attention, ask Me to show you what is truly important. Remember that you are en route to heaven, and let your problems fade in the Light of eternity.

PSALM 32:8; I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you

LUKE 10:41–42; “Martha, Martha,” the LORD answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, ⁴²but few things are needed-or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

PHILIPPIANS 3:20–21; But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the LORD Jesus Christ, ^21who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.

Young, Sarah. Jesus Calling Morning and Evening Devotional (Jesus Calling®) (p. 690). Thomas Nelson. Kindle Edition.

Theologian and Cherokee descendant Randy Woodley considers how the Bible offers insight into relationship with creation: 

In the Genesis accounts of creation, I find a world where each part of creation is related to the other. When God makes the first human and I anticipate what will happen next, I see the requirement for Adam to name all the animals. But to name things in an Indigenous way, you have to get to know them, and to know their special characteristics. In the narrative, God is telling Adam to go out and get to know his relatives. The creation narratives in Genesis, like many Indigenous creation narratives, encourage humans to see the wider created order as part of the same “family tree of the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 2:4). [1]

The importance of the narrative is that it is not just about humans. It is also about the animal kingdom and the plants and the water and the sky and everything else.… My theology begins with the land.…

My understanding is that our responsibility as Indigenous people is to be keepers of the land. That means the whole of all the ecosystems and all the human systems…. That is my job on earth. That is the job I take seriously while I’m here. When the land is used badly, and the community of creation is mistreated, everything becomes out of balance and in disharmony. Anywhere on earth can be a place of harmony when you understand your role.…

When land is lost, a history is ended. It takes land to make history. Humanity is in direct relationship with the land and all creation, a principle found throughout the scriptures and in some of the most poetic places, like Job 12:7–10, where Job says,

Just ask the animals, and they will teach you.
Ask the birds of the sky, and they will tell you.
Speak to the earth, and it will instruct you.
Let the fish in the sea speak to you.
For they all know
that my disaster has come from the hand of the Lord.
For the life of every living thing is in his hand,
and the breath of every human being.

Woodley shares other scriptural examples of God’s love for creation:

God loves everything in creation (John 3:16). In the stories we find God counting the clouds (Job 38:37), releasing the rain (Job 5:10), directing the snow (Job 37:6; 38:22), knowing when a sparrow falls (Matthew 10:29), knowing where a donkey is tied (Matthew 21:2), knowing where the fish will swim (John 21:6), adorning the lilies of the field (Matthew 6:29–30), and comparing the ostrich and the stork (Job 39:13). At the time of Jesus, there were lots of modern mechanisms, lots of inventions [including] chariots and wheels and waterwheels and little torches and all kinds of mechanistic things. But we find Jesus mostly talking about the things that grow out of the earth and the things that fly above the earth….

Praise the Lord from the earth,
You sea monsters and all deeps;
Fire and hail, snow and clouds,
Stormy wind, fulfilling God’s word;
Mountains and all hills,
Fruit trees and all cedars;
Beasts and all cattle;
Creeping things and winged fowl…
Let them praise the name of the Lord,
For God’s name alone is exalted;
God’s glory is above earth and heaven.
       —Psalm 148: 7–10, 13

God was known and praised in the natural world long before the advent of the written Scriptures. Father Richard writes:

Jewish and Christian traditions of creation spirituality have their origins in Hebrew Scriptures such as Psalms 104 and 148. It is a spirituality that is rooted, first of all, in nature, in experience, and in the world as it is. This rich Hebrew spirituality formed the mind, heart, and teaching of Jesus of Nazareth.

Maybe we don’t feel the impact of that until we realize how many people think religion has to do with ideas and concepts and formulas from books. That’s how clergy and theologians were trained for years. We went away, not into a world of nature and silence and primal relationships, but into a world of books. Well, that’s not biblical spirituality, and that’s not where religion begins. It begins in observing “what is.” Paul says, “Ever since the creation of the world, the invisible essence of God and God’s everlasting power have been clearly seen by the mind’s understanding of created things” (Romans 1:20). We know God through the things that God has made. The first foundation of any true religious seeing is, quite simply, learning how to see and love what is. Contemplation is meeting reality in its most simple and direct form unjudged, unexplained, and uncontrolled!

If we don’t know how to love what’s right in front of us, then we don’t know how to see what is. So, we must start with a stone! We move from the stone to the plant world and learn how to appreciate growing things and see God in them. In all of the natural world, we see the vestigia Dei, which means the fingerprints or footprints of God.

Perhaps once we can see God in plants and animals, we might learn to see God in our neighbors. And then we might learn to love the world. And then, when all of that loving has taken place, when all of that seeing has happened, when such people come to me and tell me they love Jesus, I’ll believe it! They’re capable of loving Jesus. The soul is prepared. The soul is freed, and it’s learned how to see and how to receive and how to move in and how to move out from itself. Such individuals might well understand how to love God.

Praying with Nature

Richard Rohr recalls his first experiences with the prayer of the Pueblo people in New Mexico: 

In 1969 when I was a young deacon in Acoma Pueblo, one of my jobs was to take the census. Because it was summer and hot, I would start early in the morning, driving my little orange truck to each residence. Invariably at sunrise, I would see a mother outside the door of her home, with her children standing beside her. She and the children would be reaching out with both hands uplifted to “scoop” up the new day and then “pour” it over their heads and bodies in blessing. I would sit in my truck until they were finished, thinking how silly it was of us Franciscans to think we brought religion to New Mexico four hundred years ago! [1]

Though I have no family links to Indigenous religions, I have great respect for their wisdom. My early experience at Acoma Pueblo has inspired me to continue to learn about the Pueblo, Diné (Navajo), and Apache peoples here in New Mexico. But I only know enough to know that I don’t know much at all. Indigenous spirituality is not intended for non-Native use. When we try to interpret or apply these teachings in our own context, we run the risk of “severe reinterpretation” [2] according to our own cultural lens and preferences, and without enough regard for their traditional origins.

I also don’t want to romanticize Native spirituality. As in every religion, there are times, places, and people who “get it”—the mystery of divine/human union—more than others. There are different stages and states of consciousness, and all are part of the journey. Western models of development usually focus on the rational mind, which offers one way of knowing reality, but in fact, there are many other ways of perceiving and expressing human experience. [3]

Choctaw elder and retired Episcopal bishop Steven Charleston offers a meditation honoring different ways of knowing that have fed his soul:  

For all the great thoughts I have read
For all the deep books I have studied
None has brought me nearer to Spirit
Than a walk beneath shimmering leaves

Golden red with the fire of autumn
When the air is crisp
And the sun a pale eye, watching.

I am a scholar of the senses
A theologian of the tangible.

Spirit touches me and I touch Spirit
Each time I lift a leaf from my path
A thin flake of fire golden red
Still warm from the breath that made it. [4]

Mechthild of Magdeburg lived independently as a beguine until she could no longer care for herself. James Finley highlights what we can learn from Mechthild as she approached her death:

She continued on in this way, writing and living with the beguines, into old age. She reached a point of fragility when she became blind and wasn’t able to dress or feed herself. She moved to a monastery of Cistercian nuns who took care of her. Not only did she go blind, and not only could she not do anything for herself, but God took away all traces of the felt sense of God’s love. She comes to the end of her life in a state of powerlessness. She says that if God wishes her to live this way, then she wishes it too. She begins to express deep gratitude for the nuns and the way they care for her as a way she experiences God’s love for her in her powerlessness.

Here is Mechthild’s prayer expressing her gratitude to God for her powerlessness:

Thus speaks a beggar woman in her prayer to God:

Lord, I thank You that since in Your love You have taken from me all earthly riches, You now clothe and feed me through the goodness of others, so that I no longer know those things that might clothe my heart in pride of possession.

Lord, I thank You that since You have taken my sight from me, You serve me through the eyes of others.

Lord, I thank You that since You have taken from me the strength of my hands and the strength of my heart, You now serve me with the hands and hearts of others. [1]

Finley continues:  

Her life comes full circle, where the places of the ecstasy in her heart, and the places of utter poverty and brokenness form a circle, and the brokenness and the ecstasy touch each other and she becomes utterly ordinary. She becomes utterly ordinary, falling away from the ability to gain footing by her own power to do anything at all. The last two books of The Flowing Light of the Godhead are dictated because she couldn’t write anymore; she dictated it and she died writing it. She ends her book with a dialogue between her soul and her body in death:

Then we shall no longer complain.
Then everything that God has done with us
Will suit us just fine,
If you will now only stand fast
And keep hold of sweet hope. [2]

How can we learn then to be unraveled by love, as Mechthild was? I’ll put it another way: the very fact that we are being touched by the beauty of these mystics means that we are being unraveled by this love. It’s already unfolding. It’s already being laid bare in the unresolved matters of our heart. Mechthild then mentors us in this love and is unexplainably trustworthy throughout our days.

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Joy Fueled

The Gospel of Knowledge and Duty

Some years ago, at a large conference, a speaker shared lots of information about unreached people groups around the world—the billions who do not yet know Christ. He reminded everyone of the Great Commission in Matthew 28. (Most of us have been reminded of the Great Commission dozens of times before.) Then the speaker began snapping his fingers as if counting time. Tears filled his eyes as he implored the audience: “Every second, thousands of people are dying without knowing Christ.” Snap. Snap. Snap. “What are you going to do about it?” Snap. Snap. Snap. The large room fell silent as he continued to snap. Many in the audience were crying. They appeared deeply moved and ready to sign up for the tremendous task of reaching their generation for Christ, no matter the cost. Perhaps you have heard sermons like that or attended conferences with this kind of presentation: 6,500 unreached people groups… 2.5 billion people never heard the name of Jesus… our evangelism and church planting aren’t working…. we are debtors to Christ… no amount of sacrifice will compare to what he has done.

Who could fail to be moved by this presentation? This kind of motivation? We call this the “gospel of knowledge and duty.” The more knowledge we have, the more we will feel obliged to serving, and therefore, the more we will serve. Yet we have several questions. Is this approach effective in the long run? Thousands or even millions of people have been motivated to ministry by this type of presentation. But, is it really good “fuel”? Is this approach healthy?

Does it result in emotionally healthy Christians? Is it biblical? Is this the kind of motivation that we see in the Bible? Effective Fuel? Healthy Fuel? Biblical Fuel? As we have said, the gospel of knowledge and duty can sound very spiritual, but we contend that these are actually inadequate types of fuel. When knowledge and duty are all we have, they are not really good news (the meaning of gospel) because, as Galatians 3:21-22 tells us, in the long run, this knowledge and duty cannot produce righteousness. Only a relationship with Jesus can do that.

Knowledge and duty produce guilt and obligation, which can be effective at starting an engine but, unfortunately, this fuel, so to speak, corrodes over time. These motivations do produce activity. However, there is a terrible price to pay when a person does not mature beyond these motivations into others more sustainable. The results are Christians who are not only exhausted, burned out and disillusioned but also thwarted in their emotional maturity and relational knowledge of God. Leaders are drawn into ministry for many reasons. Often a dramatic presentation of the great spiritual need in the world and our obligation or duty based on the Great Commission plays a significant part. Again, this conviction is not a bad thing. However, if guilt and obligation continue to be the main motivations, the results are not good. These things do not teach us what to do with our heavy emotions that come with life and ministry—emotions like grief, anger, discouragement, hopelessness and despair.

Guilt and duty are not capable of helping us through these difficult times. The shocking statistics below from one survey illustrate the long term results in the lives of pastors facing high levels of stress without an adequate joy base.

●     75% of pastors report being “extremely stressed” or “highly stressed”

● 90% feel fatigued and worn out every week

● 80% will not be in ministry 10 years later

● 91% have experienced some form of burnout in ministry

● Seminary-trained pastors average only five years in church ministry

Even more grievous than these results are the destructive behaviors that come as a result of ministering with these ineffectual motivations. In our combined years of ministry alone, we have seen numerous pastors and/or their spouses end up in inappropriate sexual relationships or substance abuse in an attempt to numb the destructive feelings they do not know how to handle. Many lives, marriages and whole communities are destroyed when this happens. We are convinced that these statistics and experiences would be different if the people of God understood the danger of living guilt-based or duty-driven compared to the amazing power of living joy-fueled.

White, John C.; Daniels, Toni M.; Smith, Dr Kent. Joy Fueled: Catalyzing a Revolution of Joyful Communities (LK10 Core Values) (pp. 11-14). LK10. Kindle Edition.

The beguines’ choice to live in cities among poor and working-class people showed their dedication to serve God by serving the “least of these.” Theologian Wendy Farley presents Mechthild’s teaching on contemplation and compassionate action:

Mechthild’s theology is driven by Lady Love, who plants a seed of compassionate action superior to the marvels of contemplation. Lofty words without compassion are useless; love of God that rages against human beings is without value. [1] We get some clues about how contemplation of Love translates into practical compassion in her advice to leaders of religious communities.

Mechthild begins with this somewhat formidable advice: compassionately and cheerfully “you should so transform your heart in God’s holy love that you love … each and every brother or sister entrusted to you in all [their] needs.” This care should be quite concrete. Community leaders should arrange for basic comforts of others. They should console the sick every day while being generous with material gifts. They should clean them, make them laugh, and carry away their waste. “Then God’s sweetness shall flow wonderfully into you.” [2]

Mechthild insists that the intimate love she and God share is made manifest in a desire to serve others:    

The radical compassion she envisions as the heart of practical action cannot be generated out of a sense of obligation or duty. It is a heart-sense that makes it unbearable to be indifferent to another’s needs or to think of anyone as “below” oneself. In an echo of her trinitarian understanding of the soul, she suggests a threefold practice to support this radical compassion: detachment, which participates in the transcendent mystery of the godhead; compassion, which participates in the humanity of Christ; and desire to care for human need, which participates in the Holy Spirit. [3] In addition, she recommends that one dedicate an hour or so to undisturbed prayer. Though she is writing to people who live in religious community, the insistence that the wells of mercy and compassion are fed by prayer is pertinent to modern people as well. As many an overworked pastor or mother knows, this hour (or even twenty minutes!) is difficult to find. Yet without it, compassionate care can become exhausting rather than grace-filled and sweet. We are better able to convey love and compassion when we are grounded in the experience of being loved ourselves.…

Love of God and of humanity are not two separate things, as if one could love God but shun humanity. Compassionate action reflects and mirrors the divine image. Love is not an emotion or obligation but is God present in the soul. When we love others with warmth, affection, and care for their needs, it is God loving them through us. Mechthild hears Christ himself insist that those who know and love the preciousness of [Christ’s] freedom “cannot bear to love me only for my own sake. They must also love me in creatures. [Then] I remain what is most close to them in their souls.” [4]

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Joy Fueled

Joy flows from giving and receiving love—the life of God. God is love, and where love is being expressed and received, the joy of God is also flowing. Nothing brings us closer to the center of all creative power than the joy of God. Sure enough, as scripture says, “The joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10 NIV). In a simple way, we experience this joy whenever we find ourselves in the presence of someone who makes it clear they are glad to be with us no matter what. Maybe it is the sparkle in their eyes when they look at us or a gentle touch when we are sad. The gift of their expressed love draws out our joy. We now know through studies in neuro-science that this pattern of love-sparking-joy forms the basis from earliest infancy for all healthy human development. When we witness a baby light up in the presence of her smiling mother, we’re witnessing the genesis of joy-fuel being formed in another life. This is love embodied—God’s life. The Greek language of the New Testament offers intriguing insight. The words for joy, gift and gratitude are closely related. All share the same root, char—pronounced “car.” Here’s the connection: Joy —Chara (delight) Gift or Grace—Charis (that which brings joy or delight) Gratitude—Eucharistia (joy or delight returned) These three ideas together, in any language, give us a way to describe what love-in-action looks like. Lovers give a gift to show their delight in the one they love. On receiving the gift, joy wells up in the beloved. Naturally, they say “thank you!” and deeper joy flows back to the lover. We sometimes say, “Love grows in the dance of joy between gift and gratitude.” More love, more joy. When you stop to think about it, this is astounding. What other process do we know that, all by itself, produces more than it starts with? Love-ignited joy is the one perpetual-motion fuel. Nothing else compares. This feeling of joy that flows from giving and receiving delight taps into God’s own life—the most enduring, powerful and motivational fuel of all (ref. John 15:11). Instead of living out of fear of shame, guilt or duty, when we receive from one another and God at the heart level, we experience a deep sense of joy that makes the relationship greater than any problems we face. No doubt, this is what Jesus had in mind when he said, “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete” (John 15:11 NIV). Two stunning truths to notice here. First, Jesus desires that the very joy and delight in his heart would be in our hearts, that we would feel what he feels. But he doesn’t stop there. The second stunning truth is that he wants the joy in our hearts to be full to overflowing. (A better translation than “complete.”) If joy is a fuel source, Jesus is saying that he wants our “tank” to be filled beyond full. What a picture of abundance! When we share this LK10 Core Value, almost everyone says, “Well, of course! Who wouldn’t want joy to be their primary motivation for life and ministry?” What is easily missed, however, is how revolutionary this value actually is within the current Christian culture. We will say more about how we see joy as our primary fuel in later chapters. For now, let’s turn to the limited and ultimately harmful fuel source that many of us have used at some point in our lives: the gospel of knowledge and duty. This motivating source competes with joy, eventually smothering it out altogether. While appearing very spiritual, over time it will not only thwart intended character development but will erode the very lives it flows through.

White, John C.; Daniels, Toni M.; Smith, Dr Kent. Joy Fueled: Catalyzing a Revolution of Joyful Communities (LK10 Core Values) (pp. 8-10). LK10. Kindle Edition.

Author Laura Swan, a Benedictine nun, has studied Christian women’s spirituality movements and writes about the alternative lifestyle of the medieval beguines:

The beguines began to form in various parts of Europe over eight hundred years ago—around the year 1200. Beguines were laywomen, not nuns, and thus did not take solemn vows and did not live in monasteries. The beguines were a phenomenal way of life that swept across Europe, yet they were never a religious order or a formalized movement. And they did not have one specific founder or rule to live by. But there were common elements that rendered these women distinctive and familiar, including their common way of life, chastity and simplicity, their unusual business acumen, and their commitment to God and to the poor and marginalized. These women were essentially self-defined, in opposition to the many attempts to control and define them. They lived by themselves or together in so-called beguinages, which could be single houses for as few as a handful of beguines or, as in Brugge, walled-in rows of houses enclosing a central court with a chapel where over a thousand beguines might live. [1]

The inner spiritual world of the beguines was rich in imagination. These women, and some of their monastic contemporaries, instigated a seismic shift in the province of the imagination, bringing their embodied experience of God and their spiritual journey into a broadened and deepened inner realm. Beguine mystics experienced a fiercely intimate encounter with the Divine—whom they called both “God” and “the One”.…

For these women, prayer was being in the presence of God, seeking to unite their minds and hearts with the One they loved (and whom they frequently referred to as their “Beloved”). A central goal in life for beguines was unity of will—that their personal will would become so united with the will of God that they essentially functioned as a unified whole. God’s heart would be the seeker’s heart; the seeker’s heart would find a home in God and God alone. This unity of will would be evidenced by joy, mercy and compassion, and love….

Beguines exhorted their followers to recognize that there existed no impediment to a deep and meaningful prayer life. No matter what a person’s station in life, be they educated or uneducated, poor or wealthy, it did not impede or deny them awareness of God in their lives. God yearned to draw close to all. [2]

Body and Soul Are One in God

Lie down in the Fire;
See and taste the Flowing Godhead through your being.
Feel the Holy Spirit moving and compelling you within
the Flowing Fire and Light of God.
—Mechthild of Magdeburg, The Flowing Light of the Godhead 6.29 

Mechthild of Magdeburg was a member of the beguines, lay women who lived communal lives of Christian devotion and service in the Low Countries of Western Europe and in France and Germany. Scholar Carol Lee Flinders writes:

Describing the soul’s relationship with God, [Mechthild] marvels at “the powerful penetration of all things and the special intimacy which ever exists between God and each individual soul” (Flowing Light 3.1).… The paradox enchants her: God is everywhere and surely, therefore, impersonal; and yet in relation to the individual soul, God is entirely intimate and surely, therefore, personal.

“Our redeemer has become our bridegroom!” Mechthild exults. Others had said as much, but in a relatively formal, allegorical mode. When Mechthild writes of the soul’s romance with God, she is no allegorist: in the depths of her being, she has found a lover who is fully, deliciously responsive. “Thou art my resting-place,” God tells her, “my love, my secret peace, my deepest longing, my highest honour. Thou art a delight of my Godhead, … a cooling stream for my ardour” (1.19). God is there, Mechthild insists, for every one of us, not in a general, impersonal sense, but there—so exquisitely right for you it’s as if you’d made him up. He “whispers with His love in the narrow confines of the soul” (2.23). Her language is almost shockingly erotic at times; for Mechthild, the sweet goings-on between God and the soul are the reality—all-consuming and exquisitely fulfilling—of which human sexuality is only a pale shadow.

Mechthild’s sensual language may surprise us, but it would have been familiar to readers of her own time:

Perhaps we need to emphasize this. The astonishing concreteness of Mechthild’s imagery—its unembarrassed physicality—is somewhat deceptive if she is read casually. One might think she was celebrating the senses, the body, and even sexuality in and of themselves. In a way, she is, but readers of her time would have understood unequivocally that she conjures up the pleasurable experiences of the physical realm as presentiments, or intimations, of an awakening into supreme joy—joy that is interior and immaterial and unending. Rather than distinguish sharply between the physical and spiritual realms, then, and reject the physical, she joins them in a natural continuity and progression. We are led inward by way of everything in this life: everything in this life, therefore, has its own sanctity.

https://youtu.be/Sc6SSHuZvQE?si=FrYZdZeTVlJI2DgY

God’s Passionate Love

Father Richard writes about God’s desire for loving intimacy with us:

Saint Bonaventure taught that we are each “loved by God in a particular and incomparable manner, as in the case of a bride and groom.” [1] Francis and Clare of Assisi knew that the love God has for each soul is unique and made to order, which is why any “saved” person feels beloved, chosen, and even “God’s favorite.” Many people in the Bible also knew and experienced this specialness. Divine intimacy is always and precisely particular and made to order—and thus “intimate.” [2]

The inner knowledge of God’s love is itself the Indwelling Presence, and it is also described as joy (John 15:11). Which comes first? Does feeling safe and held by God allow us to deal with others in the same way? Or does human tenderness allow us to imagine that God must be the same, but infinitely so? I do not suppose it really matters where we start; the important thing is that we get in on the big secret from one side or the other.

Yes, “secret,” or even “hidden secret,” is what writers like David (Psalm 25:14), Paul, Rumi, Hafiz, Bonaventure, Julian of Norwich, and many mystics called it. And for some sad reason, it seems to be a well-kept secret. Jesus praises God for “hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them only to the little ones” (Matthew 11:25). Well, what is it that the learned and the clever often cannot see?

The big and hidden secret is this: an infinite God seeks and desires intimacy with the human soul. Once we experience such intimacy, only the intimate language of lovers describes the experience for us: mystery, tenderness, singularity, specialness, changing the rules “for me,” nakedness, risk, ecstasy, incessant longing, and also, of course, necessary suffering. This is the mystical vocabulary of the saints. [3]

The beguine mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg (c. 1207–c. 1282) wrote about her experience of God’s passionate love and desire. She records a dialogue between her soul and God:

The soul begins: 

Ah, Lord, love me passionately, love me often, love me long. For the more continuously You love me, the purer I will be; the more fervently You love me, the more beautiful I will be; the longer You love me, the holier I will become here on earth.

God responds: 

Because I Myself am Love, I will love you continuously.
Because I long to be loved passionately, My desire is to love you fervently.
Because I am everlasting and eternal, I will love you long…. [4]

When I shine, you will reflect my radiance,
When I flow, you will flow swiftly,
When you breathe, you draw into yourself My Divine Heart.
When you cry for Me, I take you into My arms.
When you love Me, we are united as one.
Nothing can separate us, for we abide together joyfully. [5]

God Is Hopelessly in Love

In season eight of Turning to the Mystics, James Finley points to the guidance Mechthild of Magdeburg offers to people in relationship with God: 

We turn to the guidance that Mechthild of Magdeburg offers in The Flowing Light of the Godhead. Through what we know about her life, she’s mentoring us and modeling for us this Christlike life. Mystics such as Teresa of Ávila, John of the Cross, and the author of the Cloud of Unknowing all share their way as mystically awakened Christians. They try to offer guidance to help us discern our awakening, with instructions such as how to recognize our awakening starting, how to conduct ourselves, and so on. Mechthild doesn’t do that….

Mechthild shares this deepening love between herself and God, but she doesn’t share it by talking about it. She lets us in on it with the language of intimacy and bears witness to it. As we read her book, insofar as we’re touched by the beauty of what she’s saying about the deepening of this love, we’re being guided by her. The very fact that we’re touched by it and its beauty reveals that we’re also being drawn into this love—or we wouldn’t be touched by it. That’s how she guides us. That’s the intimacy of her teaching.

Finley describes how we might connect with Mechthild’s emphasis on love: 

In a way, Mechthild is playing a violin with just one string on it, which is love. But the more we listen to it, it’s the beauty of the whole orchestra. It’s the beauty that permeates the reverberations of all the various aspects of this. Even though she just stays on point, never leaving this love, she makes stunning statements about love. We wonder, “Where did that come from, seriously?” When we sit with her, we learn these endless variations are unfolding in us. It’s endlessly evocative and she helps us to be sensitized to surrendering ourselves over to that flow of love….

God says to her that he’s so freely chosen to be so hopelessly in love with her, that he quite honestly doesn’t know if he could handle being God without her. And she says back to God, “Take me home with you. I’ll be your physician forever!” [1] The power of these words is that, as we’re reading them, we know they are true of us. We know that God has freely chosen to be so hopelessly in love with us, and that God doesn’t know if God can handle being God without us in our brokenness…. It circulates back around, and we give back to God the gift that God longs for, which is us!…

To sit with Mechthild and to read her is to be taken by the beauty of what she says. It is to sit in silence and ask God to deepen our capacity to realize how the love of which she speaks is already unfolding within us, and how to be faithful to that, and to carry it through the day.