Vaclav Havel

I was saddened to hear that Vaclav Havel

died on December 18.

In a small way he contributed to my

spiritual journey.

In 1989 I read the letters he wrote

from prison

to his wife, Olga.

(The book is titled Letters to Olga.)

He writes about his belief in

                                      a ‘voice’

that calls to us—

it calls us to ‘responsibility.’

Havel is reluctant to use the word ‘God’

as the source of the Voice.

He chooses different terminology

based on the philosophy of

Phenomenology (Husserl)

and Existential Ontology (Martin Heidegger).

Heavily influenced by the Czech philosopher

Jan Patocka (who was a student of H. and H.).

Havel says the Voice is the voice of Being.

The reality of Being is not separate from us;

we participate in it.

With its infinite memory, omnipresent mind, and

infinite heart, Being calls out to us,

and we encounter it as “a persona l face”

that turns toward us.

Havel writes:

For me, this ‘someone’ who calls is “the highest and utterly unequivocal authority in all moral questions…someone eternal, who through himself makes me eternal as well.”

Life, he says, is a dialogue

with this ‘partner’ –

this infinite source

of life’s meaning.

In 2007 I read Havel’s ‘memoir’ of sorts.

He calls it a ‘collage.’

It is titled To the Castle and Back.

At one point he speaks of his ‘credo’

by saying:

I think that the moral order stands above the legal, political, and economic orders, and that these latter orders should derive from the former, and not be techniques for getting around its imperatives. And I believe that this moral order has a metaphysical anchoring in the infinite and the eternal.

The moral order Havel refers to

is the Order of Being.

Just as Paul Tillich spoke of God as

the Ground of Being,

I think Havel is also referring to God

when he uses the Being terminology.

What a large and all-encompassing picture

of God!

To understand God as Being-Itself

has supported me in my spiritual journey.

To think of God as a Being

                   leaves one with too many

          theological glitches.

But God as Being-Itself offers up a picture

of majestic reality permeating life

with immanent grace.

The fact that Being calls out to us

sounds very Biblical.

In fact, that is what the Bible is: namely,

a Book with a Voice that dialogues

with us.

The Book itself is not divine;

but the Voice that speaks through

the narrative of the Book

is divine and eternal.

There are other sounds and noises

which also come out of that Book.

We must ignore them

and listen only for the eternal Voice—

the voice of Being.

Vaclav Havel, the first President of

Czechoslovakia after the fall of Communism,

was a powerful spiritual voice

for his people

and indeed for all humanity.

He brought integrity to governance;

a moral dimension to leadership;

and spirituality to culture.

For me, his writing gave the gift of

a large spirituality

and a strong sense of life’s call

to freedom and responsibility.

Thank God for Vaclav Havel’s being

among us.

Catherine de Hueck Doherty

Two days ago, on December 14, was the 26th anniversary of the death of Catherine de Hueck Doherty. She grew up in Russia and escaped to the United States after being close to starvation during the Russian Revolution. After making a great deal of money lecturing in the U.S. and Canada about her experiences in Russia, she eventually felt a call from God to serve the poor. She gave up all her wealth and established the Friendship House in Toronto, a center for the works of mercy. In 1937 she established a similar house in Harlem, working for interracial justice. Later Catherine returned to Ontario and started the Madonna House, a place of retreat and prayer.

I learned about Catherine Doherty from Father McNulty, a Catholic priest living in Fort Wayne, Indiana. He lived in a small house (he called it his hermitage) in an urban setting. Fr. McNulty didn't serve a parish; his whole ministry was giving spiritual guidance to individuals who came to his hermitage. I was one of those people. Fr. McNulty was my first Spiritual Director. I went to his hermitage once a month to talk to him about spiritual matters and to pray with him. He introduced me to the writings of Catherine Doherty. Of all her writings, the best known is probably her book, Poustinia--a book about silence, solitude and prayer. She drew on her Russian roots to give guidance concerning the practice of contemplative prayer and the cultivation of communion with God.

A central theme in Catherine Doherty's spirituality is the duty of the moment. As she herself put it:

"The duty of the moment is what you should be doing at any given time, in whatever place God has put you. You may not have Christ in a homeless person at your door, but you may have a little child. If you have a child, your duty of the moment may be to change a dirty diaper. So you do it. But you don't just change that diaper, you change it to the best of your ability, with great love for both God and that child.... There are all kinds of good Catholic things you can do, but whatever they are, you have to realize that there is always the duty of the moment to be done. And it must be done, because the duty of the moment is the duty of God."

 [from chapter 12 of Dear Parents: A Gift of Love for Families] 

Fr. McNulty almost converted me to the Catholic Church. I was already thinking about the possibility of entering that Communion, and I have toyed with it off and on for many years. There is something about the strength of the Catholic Church’s continuity, the depth of its mystical element, the beauty of its liturgy, and the diversity of its Orders that appeal to me. Of course, I do not really believe in Infallibility. The exclusion of women from the priesthood would be hard to live with (though there are many people within the Church working to change that). The Catholic stand on abortion and birth control are wrong in my opinion. Etc. So, I would have to tolerate much theological dissonance if I ever entered that Church. I’m not sure at this point that I could be part of an institution that is so patriarchal. Yet I know Catholic laypersons and theologians who disagree with much of the official stance of their Church and still find it home.

My Spiritual Director, Father McNulty, finally left Fort Wayne (with the bishop’s permission) and went to live at Madonna House in Ontario. Today I am grateful for the Russian woman, Catherine de Hueck Doherty, for her commitment to justice and to the poor. And I am thankful to Fr. McNulty for having conversations with me, praying with me, and allowing me space to ponder and listen to the Spirit.

(What is your 'duty of the moment'?)
 

INSURANCE THEOLOGY

I think the phrase ‘acts of God’ has come to us from the insurance industry. Read the small print of some kinds of insurance policies and you will find that certain things aren’t covered: those disasters called ‘acts of God.’ Things like floods, earthquakes, tornadoes, etc.

I read in the Birmingham News that Toyota’s profits are down. They blame floods in Thailand and earthquakes and tsunamis in Japan. An analyst in the automobile industry said, “It’s [sic] acts of God after other acts of God.”

  

I think God gets a bad rap. Of course God is in everything, including earthquakes and floods. We humans should learn to stay out of the way of those powerful, natural forces. But why focus on the destructive? Why can’t we look at a beautiful sunset and say, “That’s an act of God”? Or why don’t we look at two people in love with each other and say, “Look! An act of God!”

Every day we see acts of God. All the random acts of kindness, the creativity of men and women and children, the protests against greed and violence—all acts of God.

Insurance companies have to do what insurance companies do. But we aren’t limited by their small definitions of the divine.

Today, be an act of God.

Secular Grace

If I had to list the top ten books that influenced my approach to theology, Gregory Baum's book Man Becoming would be on the list. The subtitle is God in Secular Experience. I'm sure that today Baum would titled his something like Humanity Becoming.


Baum's approach to theology is based on a shift in thinking about God that was espoused by the French thinker Maurice Blondel at the beginning of the 20th century. Later in that century, the Catholic theologian Karl Rahner would extend Blondel's approach, as would the Anglican theologian Bishop John A.T. Robinson and the Lutheran Theologian Paul Tillich. Blondel taught that grace is secular and present in human life everywhere. Blondel rejected 'extrinsicism' -- the thought that God is 'out there' somewhere and imposes revelation on humans as a kind of new information about heavenly things.

In Man Becoming Gregory Baum interprets each major Christian doctrine in terms of the immanent, intrinsic nature of revelation. He writes about a 'graced humanity.' The truth of God is not information about God that comes to us from an outside source. Rather, it is the recognition of what we are already experiencing in our ordinary lives. The natural is shot through with the supernatural. There is no distinction between the natural and the supernatural. The transcendent is immanent. We discover 'God' in the process of our humanization.


What evangelization means is helping to bring about a new consciousness of the mystery of God's presence in everyone's life.


When I first read Baum's book it had the ring of truth for me. Later, when I studied the theology of Karl Rahner, I knew that the old way of thinking about God as separate and extrinsic was missing the mark. As Baum says, we like a good, neat rationalistic theology because it functions as a distancing defense mechanism against the demanding nearness of God. A rationalistic approach to God keeps God at arm's length. An existential and ontological theology gives us more responsibility; God is no longer a concept, but a present reality with which we have to deal. As William James put it, "We have business with God." 


In life there is a divine summons. We can open ourselves up to this infinite call and become truly and authentically human, or we can refuse the summons and block our self-realization (which is 'hell'). 


That's just a taste of what Baum describes in his book. Throughout he emphasizes the 'newness' that God is always bringing to our lived experience. A summary statement goes like this: "The Christian believes that tomorrow will be different from today." 


There is no 'us' and 'them'; no saved and lost. Only human beings who are in process. Some recognize the redemptive presence of God in their lives; others do not. 


I have never gotten over my first reading of Man Becoming. Recently I took it off the shelf and underlined even more sentences. Then a few days later came my copy of Commonweal magazine, and there was an article about Gregory Baum, now 88 years old. It was like a reunion with an old friend. Baum, who was once a Catholic priest, is now married to an ex-nun. He has continued to break down barriers between religions, and between the sacred and the secular. 


The farther away I have gotten from my Fundamentalist Christian upbringing, the closer I have felt to God. Indeed, we all live in God, and God in us. We are graced beings who participate in Being. 


The Good News is the lostness is an illusion. Salvation is a reality. We just need to wake up and enjoy it.

God's House

Religion can be confusing. There are so many different beliefs. One group says it is the true religion; another group makes the same claim. Some believe in only one God; others believe in many gods. And some don’t need God at all. What’s a sincere seeker to do? Well, here is my take on it… 

The world is God’s house. On one floor of the house live the Baptists. Many of the Baptists have never been out of their room. They are warned not to wander around because it’s dangerous outside the room. A certain percentage of the Baptists believe that there are no other rooms in the house. On another floor you’ll find the Pentecostals. They have sound proof walls because they make a lot of noise. They pretty much think that they are the only ones in the house that have electricity.

Another floor holds the Catholics. They have lots of furniture. The fire station down the road has to come with sirens on to their floor occasionally because they have so many candles. Some rooms on their floor are just for women, and some are just for men; very quiet rooms.

The Presbyterians occupy another floor of God’s house. They keep everything very orderly. They know their particular floor was chosen for them and them alone. The Lutherans live on another floor. Of course they used to live up on the Catholic floor as did some other groups, but they were kicked off of that floor for questioning the way the rent was paid. The Episcopalians are on a floor. All their rooms have painted windows. And there are many other floors on which live groups associated with Christianity (like the Quakers, who allow no noise).

Sometimes individuals or groups will visit those on another floor and become friends. Occasionally a Catholic will go to the Anglican floor and visit and decide to stay. Or a Baptist will eat dinner with people on the Presbyterian floor and see that she should be living with them.

But here’s an interesting thing: God’s house not only has many floors with many rooms, it also has several wings jutting out in different directions. 

There is the Eastern Wing. On one floor are the Buddhists, and on another the Hindus, and on another the Confucians, and so on. The Hindus think that there are many owners of the house. The Buddhists don’t believe anyone owns the house; in fact, they say, there may not even be a house.

On the Western Wing along with the Christians are the Jews and the Muslims. Then there is a Southern Wing that houses the agnostics and atheists and humanists. The agnostics have darkened their windows and aren’t sure if anything is out there or not. God’s house has rooms for anyone and everyone, even though some people in the house don’t believe that everyone lives there. 

This is my imaginative way of understanding religion. I know that many folk cannot accept this vision of things. Their rules will not allow them to. But I have been up and down the hallways and in and out of rooms and I have seen with my own eyes that people of various religious traditions dwell within the dwelling of God. 

I grew up on the Baptist floor, in one of the fundamentalist rooms. I didn’t know there were other rooms for many years. But as I went to college and seminary I began to learn about church history and the philosophy of religion and systematic theology. I was invited by my teachers to get out of my room and walk around and get to know other people in the house. Still, for a long time, I worked by rules that prohibited me from acknowledging that everyone was in the same house.

But finally I saw the light. I mean, there was actual light in every room on every floor. I couldn’t deny it. God was everywhere. Grace filled the house. Even though there were many differences among the residents in the house, the same electric current gave light in every place. It was quite a relief when I finally discovered the oneness of us all. I no longer had to go out every day and try to persuade everyone to come live in my room.

One day I was walking down the hall of our big house and I met Jesus. I said, “Sir, I’ve made a wonderful discovery.” “What’s that?” he said. I said, “It has been revealed to me that everyone in this house is part of the same family.” Jesus smiled. “I thought you would figure it out eventually,” he said. Still smiling, he walked on down the hall whistling a happy little tune.

It was then that I thought about those words of his that everyone always quote when they want to prove that we should exclude: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” “Yeah,” I thought, “that’s it. The way of Jesus is the way of inclusion, tolerance, and respect. The all-inclusive embrace of his earthly ministry showed us that his way, and his life, and his truth, is compassion and acceptance and bringing-together. Yes, his love is the way to the oneness that God desires.”

I also remembered that the oft-quoted verse about the way, the life, and the truth comes a few verses after he says, “In my father’s house are many rooms.” 

I have a strong and happy belief that every humane religious tradition has its own room in God’s house.

     

Some meek thoughts

After preaching and leading studies for 40 years I often feel like I have nothing left to say. I dreamed the other night that I was invited to preach in a church, and when it came time for me to go to the pulpit, I couldn't think of anything to say.


I'm glad Mississippi's 'personhood' referendum didn't pass. What a mess that would have been. It shows the wisdom of the traditional Jewish answer to personhood: it begins when the baby is half way out of the mother's womb. In other words, at birth, not at conception. (A question for Mr. Fundamentalist: How can you be born again if you haven't been born once yet?) Of course, this is all just so much sophistry.


Herman Cain doesn't have a chance. It will be Mitt.


I'm leading a study at church tomorrow about the third beatitude: Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Jesus is actually quoting Psalm 37.11, which helps to understand what he's getting at. The meek in Ps. 37 are the 'humbled' -- that is, the powerless peasants who have been 'humiliated' by rich land owners. The Psalmist advises them to wait on God; to be patient; not to fret. It's the same message we get from the Book of Revelation: patience, trust; God will defeat the powers of Evil. And it's not the earth that the meek in Ps. 37 inherit, it is the 'land.' The land they have had to give up from indebtedness; the land that is rightfully theirs. In other words, justice will prevail. As M.L. King used to say, "The arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice." The third beatitude is a call to trust the power of Goodness; to live non-violently; to let go of fretful busyness, and to sit in stillness. Be calm.


So, here is a good translation for Matt. 5.5: "God honors the oppressed; justice will be done."


I'm also preparing a sermon for  Christ the King Sunday which I will give at the Presbyterian Church in Montevallo. I've been down several dead end roads during my preparation. I think I've finally settled on 'the prepositions of the kingdom.'


We had a pleasant visit with Pat's brother and sister-in-law the last few days. Larry is an engineer, and Susan is a novelist and spiritual teacher. They both do professional photography and have been publishing some articles lately, using their photos. They live in Kansas City. Lovely people.


I'm still trying to understand God. And faith. I know 'understand' is the wrong word--it's all about trust. But I'm a thinking person, and I can't stop trying to conceptualize reality. The traditional word 'God' is so open to all kinds of unacceptable connotations. Yet, as Rabbi Rami says, it's a term we can't ignore. I prefer to think about 'Being.' But few people can relate to ontological terminology. I still like Paul Tillich's term: the Spiritual Presence. All language is symbolic. But I do believe in a Spiritual Reality that permeates everything, that is not 'a' being; yet, is personal. Since the nature of Ultimate Reality is Love, there must be some kind of personal language involved in talking about 'God.'


My daughter was in the paper yesterday. In The Birmingham News, page 3C. The defendant is being charged with mail and wire fraud, conspiracy, and money laundering in a 96 count indictment issued by a grand jury. Here is a quote from 3C: "Wofford, an Auburn University graduate in music and theater, was asked by defense attorney Glory McLaughlin if a dress Campbell had paid for had been intended for her to wear to provide singing and entertainment at a future event." And, "McLaughlin asked Jenkins about whether women involved in a luau event were promised a bathing suit after the event." It's nice to see your offspring's name in the news in a professional capacity. I'm proud of her.


Oh, meek can also mean 'power-under-control' -- like a wild horse that has been tamed by a horse whisperer. And it can mean 'gentle, teachable, relying on divine guidance.'


May you have a meek week.

God Whistles

I finished reading the biography of Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury. It is titled, Rowan’s Rule; the author is Rupert Shortt (correct spelling) [425 pgs]. The head of the largest Protestant communion in the world, Williams is also one of the most important Protestant theologians on the planet.

In his little book, Tokens of Trust, Williams lays out his basic thought. I especially like his discussion of the nature of God’s involvement with the creation. Instead of picturing God as ‘a being’ existing apart from the world, he speaks of God as a kind of electric current that runs through everything in the creation. As the poet said, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God."

***

I ran upon an interesting verse the other day: Zechariah 10.8. God speaks and says, "I will whistle and gather them together." The Hebrew word for 'whistle' is eshrekah. In some other passages it is translated 'hiss.' But most English translations of this Zechariah verse use 'whistle.' Has God ever whistled at you? His whistle is a uniting signal. Perhaps we each ought to listen carefully for that divine whistle. It's calling us together.

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I have never studied the Apocrypha closely, though I have read most of the books. But the last few days the Benedictine Daily Prayer book has featured readings from the Book of Wisdom, and I've been uplifted by the readings. The Book of Wisdom was written about 100 years before Christ by a Jewish author living in Alexandria, Egypt. It was written in Greek. So, it partakes of Greek thought and categories as well as the Hebrew tradition. There is indeed a lot of wisdom in this Apocryphal book.


***

I've been thinking lately about the word 'confidence.' It is sometimes used as a synonym for 'faith.' Instead of asking, Do you have faith in God? or, Do you believe in God?--the question might be put this way: Do you have confidence in God? Or more generally, what do you have ultimate confidence in?


***

Here is another little question: What is the difference in having faith and having an opinion?


***
Really enjoyed the movie "True Grit." The acting, the weird style of dialogue, and even the violence (in this context) were delightful.


***
I've been using the Hebrew alphabet as an aid to meditation.


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Biblical retirement

I took early retirement at age 62 so that we could move to the deep South and use more sun screen and learn a new accent. Well, actually it was so that we could be close to our granddaughter and daughter and be part of their lives. We are happy we made that decision.

Shortly after my retirement some of my clergy colleagues threw me a retirement party with good food and beverages. At one point a pastor friend of mine asked me (tongue-in-cheek) if I could actually retire in good conscience since there is no Biblical reference or support for retirement. I didn’t have a Biblical answer at the time. I simply said something like, “I don’t care what the Bible says, I’m retiring.” 

Well. Now I have Biblical support. As I was reading The Presbyterian Outlook magazine the other day an article quoted a Bible verse about retirement! It’s in the Book of Numbers, which makes sense because when you start thinking about retirement you have to deal with a lot of numbers—numbers which are never high enough. 

This verse in Numbers is sort of a reference to clergy retirement too; it doesn’t reference priests, but Levites. (Remember the priest and the Levite that pass by on the other side of the road in the parable of the Good Samaritan?) The Levites were an order of ministry in ancient Israel. Whereas the priests were more like pastors, the Levites were sort of ‘lay clergy’ (analogous in some ways to Elders in the Presbyterian Church). They assisted the priests and handled sacred objects, and also functioned as a music ministry. And here is what the Bible says:

The Lord said to Moses, “This applies to the Levites: Men twenty-five years old or more shall come to take part in the work at the Tent of Meeting, but at the age of fifty, they must retire from their regular service and work no longer. They may assist their brothers in performing their duties at the Tent of Meeting, but they themselves must not do the work. This, then, is how you are to assign the responsibilities of the Levites.”

(Numbers 8:23-26, NIV)

         

So, there you have it. By retiring I have done a Bible-approved thing. Of course there is no one-to-one correspondence between the culture of ancient Israel and our North American 21^st century culture. But the principle of retirement seems to be present way back there in the Torah.

Now, I actually don’t need a Biblical proof text to feel good about retirement. I was simply intrigued to find ‘retirement’ mentioned in Scripture. 

In all the political arguments today about the economy, the possibility of raising the retirement age above 65 is discussed. It will inevitably happen. The tragedy is that poorer people who have the more physically demanding jobs are the ones who need to retire earlier. The poor always get left behind. Wouldn’t it be a more just world if garbage collectors could retire at age 55 with full benefits, and CEOs had to continue to age 70 to receive full benefits? But that ain’t going to happen. The world is ruled by the wealthy. Even the Democrats get their election funding from the wealthy, and therefore, tend to give them the listening ear rather than the poor. As Bill Moyers points out in his new book, we are ruled by an oligarchy—a small group of people who hold bag of money. 

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