Desert Echoes #5: Sell Your Bible

One of the monks, called Serapion, sold his book of the Gospels and gave the money to those who were hungry, saying:  I have sold the book which told me to sell all that I had and give to the poor.
(From The Wisdom of the Desert, by Thomas Merton, saying XXXIV).


A few times a month I have had the opportunity to work at the local food bank.  Normally, this time is followed by a short Bible study at the facility.  This week there was much to do and we spent the entire two hours working and skipped the Bible study entirely.  It seemed appropriate

This reminded me of one winter Sunday several years ago at a church where I served as Assistant Pastor.  A blizzard had fallen over the town the evening before and continued into the morning hours.  Driving to work in my four-wheel-drive, I remember stopping to help a young woman dig her car out of a few feet of snow so she could get to work.  

Arriving at the church for the early service, I found six people in attendance.  Three of us were pastoral staff.  The pastor of worship and I suggested that we cancel the first service in order to assist people in the neighborhood struggling with the after-effects of the blizzard.  The Senior Pastor protested that we needed to be faithful to the preaching of scripture.  So we put on the full show for six people and let our neighbors - including the senior citizens in the local trailer park - figure out how to deal with the snow for themselves.  Why?  Because there was such a concern about scripture and preaching.  

Now, I love the scriptures.   I love corporate worship... most of the time.  But is it possible that we might be more faithful in remembering the work of God and worshiping together by emulating the love of Christ than by huddling together in buildings to read books, sing songs and listen to ourselves talk?  Of course, corporate worship is important too, but it seems like many people have prioritized the attendance of local church to the point that it is tempting to believe that is the only real place to worship.  That such is pure worship.  Yet the book of James says, 

Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world. (Jam 1:27 NAU)

During our time at the food bank, I was speaking with the local Lutheran pastor.  He told me how some of the students at his seminary pledged to go "Bible-less" for a year while serving people in the community.  Apparently, the point was to step away from the wrong ways in which the Bible is used.  For some, this will seem absolutely ridiculous - if not offensive and blasphemous.  Still, it is interesting to consider the idea in concert with the attitude of the monk Serapion in this saying.  Right or wrong, he was thoroughly consistent.

It makes one question our own consistency in American Evangelical Christianity.  Many of us can fill a bookshelf with just the Bibles we own, a small library with the theological and devotional books we possess.  Pastors and leaders spend tens of thousands of dollars on education. A good number of churches spend that much or more yearly on resource materials, media and worship supplies.  The Christian book and music industries generate obscene profits.  I'm not saying all this is bad, but I can't help but wonder if we are missing something.

Desert Echoes #4: Cell-ular Regeneration

 A certain brother went to Abbot Moses in Scete and asked him for a good word.  And the elder said to him:  Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything. (From The Wisdom of the Desert, by Thomas Merton, saying XIII)

The "cell" was the center of life for the Desert Fathers.  It was their home, chosen for remoteness and isolation.  Within it they found refuge from the desolation of the desert.  There they sought God in silence, drawing near to Him, finding peace.  Inside its walls they confronted their demons (whether metaphorical or actual).  They discovered who they truly were; at once accepting their human nature and denying it with vehemence.

The central importance of the cell was in being the place where the hermit or monk encountered God in solitude.  It was the inner sanctuary - the eremite's Holy of Holies.  Here there was only silence between the individual and the Beloved.  There remained no place to hide from the penetrating, purifying and purging love of God.  They longed for the Spirit of God to seep down into them like rainwater saturating a cracked and thirsty ground.  This could only happen in silence, in exposing the darkness and emptiness of oneself alone to the living water.

This is radically different from contemporary evangelical attitudes about the church where God is expected to show up most powerfully in public worship events - in sermons, music, videos, singing and all manner of noise and activity.  Neither is there anything inherently wrong with such forms of worship.  In fact, they can be beautiful experiences for those drawn to them.  However, the Desert Fathers knew that we can often hide from God in "noise".

Nature abhors a vacuum.  Humanity abhors silence.  In silence we are alone and naked before God.  In silence we are forced to confront who we are.  We are terrified of us.  We fill our lives with the noise of activity, work, media and myriad other distractions in order to flee ourselves.  We change our locations, our jobs, our relationships - all in an effort to escape, avoid, ignore and deny our inadequacies, failures and fears.  Transience becomes a means of self defense.

The Fathers recognized this.  They dared to stay, to sit, to face themselves in the terror of silence.  They knew that moving from one place to another accomplished nothing.  They understood that what we fear is God and there is no place to hide from him.  The only solution is to bare ourselves before him as we are:  where we are, who we are.  In doing so, they found that they were truly loved by God.  They were consumed by that love.

In her introduction to The Sayings of the Desert Fathers, Benedicta Ward observes of the above saying, "The point was that unless a man could find  God here, in this one place, his cell, he would not find him by going somewhere else."  There is a word here for those of us who are Desert Children.  As we wander our own deserts, we find cells of our own.  It is tempting to believe that if we could simply go somewhere else, be someone else, everything would somehow be better.

It's not true.  The only way to peace is in knowing that God knows who you are and loves exactly who we are.  No denials here.  You must come face to face with the ugly, horrid, nasty bits of you before you can accept that he loves all of you.  In fact, there was never a time he did not love you - not even in that most depraved moment.  You know the one I'm talking about.

You must accept the scandal of God's love before you can accept its wonder.  God's love is offensive.  It offends because it shames us by its selfless passion.  It is not dignified.  It is not just.  It is the love of a man smitten with a whore (see the book of Hosea).  The irresponsible love of a shepherd who abandons his herd  to chase after one stupid lost sheep.  The undignified love of a father who runs with abandon to embrace and restore that good-for-nothing bastard he calls a son.

It's not pretty love.  But it's beautiful.  It's overwhelming.  And when you truly accept this love, face it and embrace it - it will change your life.  All else will pale in comparison.  Just remember that it you are more likely to find God where you are than where you aren't.

Kneeling with Giants: Part 2 - Martin Luther

Martin Luther (1483-1546)

 Few of us think of prayer at the mention of Martin Luther.  Rather, visions of Reformation and cries of "Sola Fide!" dominate our imaginations at the sound of his name.  However, an entire chapter of Gary Neal Hansen's illuminating book Kneeling with Giants is devoted to his teaching on prayer.  Those who are looking for a framework to organize their daily prayer time are likely to find Martin Luther's emphasis on the Lord's Prayer to be helpful and productive.

Luther's 95 Theses

By way of introduction for those who know little of church history, Martin Luther (1483-1546) was the founder of the Reformation in Germany.  He was not alone in his efforts, but he was almost certainly the most influential in this revolutionary movement.  It is probably fair to say that all those who call themselves Protestants owe the existence of their faith - in some measure - to this rebel monk.  On October 31st, 1517, Luther posted his 95 Theses (later published as Ninety-Five Theses on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences) on the door of the church in Wittenberg, Germany.  

Heroes of the Reformation

Drawing the attention - and ultimately the wrath - of the Catholic leadership, Luther became the focal point of frustrations with the excesses and authority of the Catholic Church institution.  His later writings and protestations secured his excommunication as well as his place in history as the dominant voice of the Reformation.  However, Luther was fundamentally a pastoral-minded leader, concerned with the development and health of those in his circle of influence.  It is from this heart that much of his writings are drawn, including his teachings on prayer.  

Hansen details Martin Luther's emphasis on The Lord's Prayer (the longer form found in Luke 11:2–4).  For Luther this Prayer - as taught by Christ himself - was to be the foundation of all Christian prayer.  Not simply by repetition, but as a framework for one's prayer.  Following is a limited summary of this framework:

1.  Our Father in Heaven  -  Thank God for his intimacy with us and his role as loving Father (fundamental for Luther) as well as his sovereignty.

2.  Hallowed be Your Name - Praise God for his holiness (his "wholly other"ness to borrow from Karl Barth) and his goodness.

3.  Your Kingdom Come - Prayers, hope and resolution in contemplation of the coming of God's Kingdom in time and eternity.

4.  Your will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven - Recognize God's plans are more important than our own and owning the humility and desire for obedience in light of that recognition.  Prayer for God's will in specific instances.

5.  Give us this day our daily bread - Acknowledge our dependency on God and pray for our needs.

6.  Forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors - Forgiving and praying for strength to forgive others and ourselves.

7.  And do not bring us to the time of trial - Ask God to keep us close to Himself and away from "temptation."  Hansen points out that Luther considered temptation under three categories (taken directly from Kneeling with Giants, p. 48-49):

    World:  "the negative influence of society on our character and behavior"

    Flesh:  "when we want to misuse its pleasures" 

    Devil:  "spiritual temptation" (unbelief, false security, stubborness and despair)

8.  But rescue us from the evil one - "asking God for protection from all the things that worry us."


Pros:  Martin Luther's teaching on prayer provides the undisciplined person with a framework within which one can experience a more robust prayer experience, avoiding a prayer "rut" of treading the same territory over and over again.  It draws our attention back to the fundamental issues in prayer without quite the formula-driven process of the Book of Prayer (chapter 1).  A good solution for those of us with restless minds and spirits.

Cons:  Perhaps too formulaic for some.  As Hansen points out, for some who get carried away at each point this prayer may take several days to complete.  It apparently did for Luther (p. 51)!  This may be frustrating for some, I found it to be only mildly troublesome and sometimes it was nice to be able to just focus on one or two sections of the Lord's Prayer per day for my prayer time.

Desert Echoes #3: Argument

An elder said... And if anyone speak to you about any matter do not argue with him.  But if he speaks rightly, say:  Yes.  If he speaks wrongly say to him:  You know what you are saying.  But do not argue with him about the things he has said.  Thus your mind will be at peace.  (From The Wisdom of the Desert, by Thomas Merton, saying, X)

Over the last few years, my way of thinking has changed.  I have stepped back from some of the strong convictions held by many in my (Evangelical) tradition, including friends and family.  With that change, I have discovered the importance of choosing carefully when to speak.  I wish I had learned it sooner.  I wish I was better at it even now.

Argument is one of the all-time great human pastimes.  Ranked among the favorite themes is religion.  Religious history is replete with rabbis, philosophers, church councils, priests, popes and preachers vying with great fervor for their many different doctrines and convictions.  

In the presence of all those conflicting ideas, some must be accepted and some rejected.  Survival of the fittest, as they say.  The battle for whose opinion will be victorious is fought in living rooms, bars, coffee shops, schools and - unsurprisingly - the church.  Everybody thinks they know something about God.  Some are determined that everyone else should agree with them.  They're usually the loudest.  Many Christians I know seem convinced that they aren't faithful unless they correct everyone for everything said or believed in opposition to their own doctrine or morality.  Anything less is perceived as compromise.  Apparently, people must be told they are wrong.  Is that the heart of faithfulness to Christ?

The Desert Fathers felt otherwise.  They realized that they were responsible for their own faith and obedience.  The rest of the world was in God's hands.  They played their part in building the kingdom.  They allowed others to play their own parts as they were led, trusting that God was in control.  There was no point in arguing.  God has the final word, and that word was Jesus.  What arrogance to think that we can change a heart!?

Scandalous!  What about evangelism?  What about missions?  What about morality?  What about justice?

Evangelism and missions were accomplished through proclaiming the good news of Christ.  Not wrangling over it.  As for morality and justice.  What does humanity know about them?  We trade in injustice - damning one wrong with the same breath we justify another.  That doesn't give us an excuse to do nothing.  But what injustice was ever stopped by argument?  The Desert Fathers lived out their love for God and their love for people as an example.  After all, which is the better testimony?  A lecture?  Or a life?

Side Note:  It is amusing to notice the contemporary lack of confrontation in the apparent tone of the elder's suggested response of disagreement:  "You know what you are saying."  How uncomfortably politically correct this will seem to those of us brought up in the mindset of confrontational Christianity.

Desert Echoes #2: Simplicity and Obedience

A brother asked one of the elders:  What good thing shall I do, and have life thereby?  The old man replied:  God alone knows what is good.  However, I have heard it said that someone inquired of Father Abbot Nisteros the great, the friend of Abbot Anthony, asking: What good work shall I do? and that he replied:  Not all works are alike.  For scripture says that Abraham was hospitable and God was with him.  Elias loved solitary prayer and God was with him.  And David was humble and God was with him.  Therefore, whatever you see your soul to desire, according to God, do that thing, and you shall keep your heart safe.  (From The Wisdom of the Desert, by Thomas Merton, saying, III)

There are many reasons I find the Desert Fathers appealing.  One among those many reasons is their penetrating simplicity.  In my experience, such is the mark of a truly wise person.  Simplicity is not to be confused with ignorance, willful or helpless.  Far too many people make this mistake and too many religious fools have capitalized on it.  Simplicity is the ability to distill, to reduce the complexity of something while at the same time maintaining its essence.  Perhaps it was the plundering nature of the desert - stripping these men of their flourish and baring their humility - which instilled in them the clarity and candor that makes their words so powerful nearly two millennia after the desert claimed their bodies.

Modern Christianity is defined by anything but simplicity.  It complicates things.  People fuel their Purpose Driven Lives with "life application verses" and bulleted lists of what we must do, say and be in order to remain obedient before God.  We chase after the Seven Habits of a Successful Spiritual Life" as handed down by one Christian leader and now another.

By way of contrast, compare the above words of the Abba Nisteros when asked how to be obedient to God.  "Not all works are alike," he responds.  He cites Abraham's hospitality, Elijah's prayerfulness and David's humility, all as examples of different but equally good works.  To be fair, these virtuous works seem to be selected for their harmony with the monk's lifestyle.  Nonetheless, his concluding statement is striking:

"Therefore, whatever you see your soul to desire, according to god, do that thing, and you shall keep your heart safe."

Augustine (354-430)

Augustine, in Homily 7 on the First Epistle of John echoes this truth when he writes,

Once for all, then, a short precept is given you: Love, and do what you will: whether you hold your peace, through love hold your peace; whether you cry out, through love cry out; whether you correct, through love correct; whether you spare, through love do you spare: let the root of love be within, of this root can nothing spring but what is good.¹

How scandalous to the ears of many who have learned a scripted formula for obedience!  How refreshing to those who have sought the God of mystery,undomesticated by the minds and sensibilities of men!  How perfectly simple.  How surprisingly reasonable.  How marvelously beautiful!

Of course, we must take time to note that it is not simply whatever your soul desires, but whatever your soul desires according to God.  Here we find the difference between wisdom and foolishness.  We may not simply pursue or own will, but the will of God as it inhabits and changes our own.  This will cannot be prescribed by those outside ourselves, but must be surrendered to as it is discovered in our relationship with God as our desires and hearts conform to his own.  

In the words of Augustine once more, such behavior may be seem "rough." Here Augustine even justifies the "savage" discipline of a father disciplining his son with beatings.  We may challenge his judgment here.  As he might challenge the judgment of modern society in certain areas of morality.  But from both perspectives, the truth of his conclusion remains, "Thorns also have flowers."²  The heart and work of God is as wild and mysterious as Himself:  not like our thoughts, not like our ways (Isaiah 55:8-9).  It is a winding road and unexpected.  My road and yours are unlikely to be the same.  But in the end it is as simple as it is perplexing - only follow the example of Christ's own selfless love.


1.  Augustine, Homily 7 on the First Epistle of John, ch 8.
2.  Augustine, Homily, ch 8.

Homelessness

Then a scribe came and said to Him, "Teacher, I will follow You wherever You go."  Jesus said to him, "The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." (Mat 8:19-20 NAU)

Of late, I have been overwhelmed with a profound and growing sense of homelessness.  Despite my struggles with church culture, I have always believed it important to stay in connection with the local church.  However, these days, no matter where I go, I feel like an alien.  I have always felt like a bit of an outsider, even when I served in full-time ministry.  But lately it's different.  The distance feels greater than normal.

I don't feel distant from Christ.  I really don't.  Particularly in prayer, in reading and in writing, I feel very close to God.  It's much more a sense of not belonging anywhere.  As I have visited various church communities,  I have - in most cases - found myself affected with a great sense of love and appreciation for the people, for their worship and their love for each other.  But it is very much like I am watching through a glass shop window or listening to a song too far in the distance.  My heart and spirit are warmed by what I  hear, yet no matter how much I think I recognize the tune, everything seems a little out of sync.  I could put this down to my own apostasy except that my heart and mind are consumed with Christ and faith - and that my sensation of alienation are not confined to the church.  Though they are often strongest there.

Some might be tempted to explain this in psychological terms like mild dissociative/depersonalization disorder.  I'm equally certain that some would suggest it as God's discipline or wrath.  For all I know, they are both right.  But I wonder if there is something more.

Appropriately enough, as Christmas is only just behind us, I think of Jesus.  Born into a world that was his own, into a people that were his own (John 1:11) - both in that he was their creator God in essence and in that he was their brother, united with them in humanity.  And yet, what an alien world it must have seemed to him.  How he must have felt, alongside his great love for them, somehow vastly distant from these his brothers and sisters.  Alone among family.  Alone even among friends.

Home is not a place.  It is the relationships with those we love most and who love us in return.  Who love us no matter what.  Those who stand by us in our crucifixions and our triumphal entries the same. As the passage above suggests, the son of man was homeless.  Not because his home was someplace different, but because his home was someone different.  Jesus' words to the scribe are for us as well.  If we follow him, our home will be someone different too.

What we often call the "church" - the institution - is not so very different from the world.  It is a place, a culture, a people.  We may love and feel loved in return by the people we encounter there.  We may even feel at times a sense of belonging there.  And that can be a precious gift.  But we must not mistake it for our home.  Our home is our Father.  And we have known the Father in his son, glorious in his grace and truth and in his love.

Someday we will all be home.  I mean that in two senses.  On the one hand, we shall all come home together  into the fullness and joy of the perfect presence of God among us.  In that fullness and joy, however, we will also be home to one another, unconditionally loving and being loved by each other, enwrapped in the unifying love of God.