Christmas: The Gift Of Sheer Grace

A blessed Advent, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I wanted to get another blog up prior to the holidays, but to break from Ephesians for the moment and focus on the season.

So many meaningful things have been written about this special time of year so I am going back to one of the greats: Augustine. Many of you are familiar with him, but for those who are not, Augustine (354-430AD) is one of the most significant theologians and fathers of the Church. He was bishop of Hippo (in present-day Algeria) and many of his writing such as Confessions and City Of God are considered to be among the best all-time Christian classics.

The following is from one of his Christmas sermons. Enough said. God’s best blessings of the season to you all! - Ed

Awake, mankind! For your sake God has become man. Awake, you who sleep, rise up from the dead, and Christ will enlighten you. I tell you again: for your sake, God became man.

You would have suffered eternal death, had he not been born in time. Never would you have been freed from sinful flesh, had he not taken on himself the likeness of sinful flesh. You would have suffered everlasting unhappiness, had it not been for this mercy. You would never have returned to life, had he not shared your death. You would have been lost if he had not hastened to your aid. You would have perished, had he not come.

Let us then joyfully celebrate the coming of our salvation and redemption. Let us celebrate the festive day on which he who is the great and eternal day came from the great and endless day of eternity into our own short day of time.

He has become our justice, our sanctification, our redemption, so that, as it is written: Let him who glories glory in the Lord.

Truth, then, has arisen from the earth: Christ who said, I am the Truth, was born of the Virgin. And justice looked down from heaven: because believing in this new-born child, man is justified not by himself but by God. Truth has arisen from the earth: because the Word was made flesh. And justice looked down from heaven: because every good gift and every perfect gift is from above.

Justified by faith, let us be at peace with God: for justice and peace have embraced one another.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ: for Truth has arisen from the earth. Through whom we have access to that grace in which we stand, and our boast is in our hope of God’s glory. He does not say: “of our glory,” but of God’s glory: for justice has not come out of us but has looked down from heaven.

For how could there be peace on earth unless Truth has arisen from the earth, that is, unless Christ were born of our flesh? And he is our peace who made the two into one: that we might be men of good will, sweetly linked by the bond of unity.

Let us then rejoice in this grace, so that our glorying may bear witness to our good conscience by which we glory, not in ourselves, but in the Lord. That is why Scripture says: He is my glory, the one who lifts up my head. For what greater grace could God have made to dawn on us than to make his only Son become the son of man, so that a son of man might in his turn become son of God?

Ask if this were merited; ask for its reason, for its justification, and see whether you will find any other answer but sheer grace.

It's All Right Here

“I’ve looked EVERYWHERE!!!”

Car keys. Glasses. Important papers. Whatever may be left of my mind. I lose things constantly, and after conducting what I think is a thorough search, I decide that whatever I am looking for has simply vanished from the face of the earth.

That is, until I just happen to glance at my desk one more time, and there it is, sticking out like a sore thumb, where it has been all along. A blind chimp could have found it.

I can easily do the same thing to myself when it comes to spiritual things.

To explore this, let’s go back to Ephesians chapter 1. We got past “grace and peace” last time and are moving through Paul’s opening remarks. (Eph. 1:3-14).

While it doesn’t appear this way in most translations, vv 3-14 are one long sentence in Greek. This is typical Paul. Whether he is writing or dictating his thoughts to an assistant, he is prone to getting carried away, especially when it comes to praising God for what He has accomplished in Christ. That’s what is happening here as Paul gets caught up and unleashes this verbal avalanche. He piles phrase upon phrase, one on top of another as one thought to leads him to the next while he blesses God for all He has given.

(Trivia: this is the second longest sentence in the NT at 202 words. The reigning champ is Col. 1:9-20, coming in at 218 words. Amaze your friends with this fun fact when the subject of exegesis comes up at the holiday cocktail party, as it always does.)

Some have pointed out that, to make it more readable, it can be broken down into 3 sections that each end in praise (vv. 6, 12, 14). And, that each section focuses on a member of the Trinity: Father (4-6) Son (7-12) and Spirit (13-14). Others argue against breaking it up, saying that the passage is liturgical, and that this would detract from its beauty and flow. But regardless, it is an amazing, inspiring outpouring of praise and thanksgiving to God that can’t help but lift your spirit.

In verse three, Paul begins by saying that God has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ. As you move throughout the passage, Paul identifies at least some of these: forgiveness, sonship, lavished grace, revealing the mystery of His will to us, bestowing an inheritance, etc. etc.

In all likelihood Paul is just scratching the surface of all that God has provided us with. But the point is, we have been given everything we need to live a life of faith that would please Him and to reach others, if we just have the eyes to see it. I lose sight of that at times, just as I do with the reading glasses that are sitting there in plain view.

I’m not much for popular self-help or positive-thinking books. I have read enough of them to know that they contain some general truths but are largely repackaged snake oil. Still, a concept you often find in books like these definitely applies here: living out of an “abundance mentality” as opposed to a “scarcity mentality”.

How different would our lives be if, rather than focusing on our failings, sins, or weaknesses, we focused instead on what God has provided to help us overcome them? Paul says here that we have everything we need. Certainly, people can have problems that are deep-seated, going back many years, or some that have their roots in physical causes. Counselors and medical professionals can help with those. But largely, what we need to make God happy and to be effective for Him is instantly available to us, right at hand. If we could stop dwelling on our own insufficiencies and focus on the sufficiency of Christ, we would see them, and we would come at these issues in a completely different way – a way that can help us to move ahead, and live the life God intended us to live before Him.

For sure, knowing our own inadequacies is a good thing. After all, we can’t deal with them by our own power. But to remain focused on them is to be stuck in the mud. If I really understand that God has provided me with everything I need, I will be focused on overcoming instead of failure.

There is no scarcity when it comes to God’s gifts – only amazing, profound abundance. I want that abundance mentality to become the way I look at life everyday.

Also, particularly at this time of year, and as we move into the joyfully expectant Advent season, I want to take the time to be grateful for all God has provided, be it tangible or intangible. And I want to learn better how to live out of that gratitude consistently..

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and Advent season!

A Fine How-Do-Yo-Do

So here we are, beginning Ephesians, and I am stopped in my tracks almost immediately. I can’t get past Paul’s initial greeting to those who will hear this letter read to them. There’s a lot to consider in the first 14 verses. This could take a few installments. Pack a lunch. We may be here for a while.

It’s not just that I’m stuck on the first 14 verses that comprise the opening of the letter. I can’t get past v.2! After he introduces himself (not that he was a stranger), Paul writes in v 2, “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Two things stick out to me about this greeting.

First, I like the fact that Paul took the standard greeting of the day and changed it. In a typical greeting of that time, you would have opened a letter by saying – guess what? - “Greetings!” But Paul changed this to “grace “– an idea that likely presented itself to him because those two Greek words look very similar. By simply altering a few letters, Paul poured simple but meaningful Christian truth into a generic greeting.

Then as if that weren’t enough, he added the word “peace” which was not part of the standard greeting in Greek letters. In fact, it was a Hebrew greeting, which Paul imported from the Old Testament and his Jewish background. The word he used is Greek, but it is a translation of "shalom", which means not only “peace’’, but a complete sense of well-being.

In marrying grace and peace at the very outset of the letter, Paul expressed unmerited divine favor, and not simply the absence of strife or separation between man and God but a full, satisfying relationship. In other words, he expressed the very heart of the gospel.

Pretty heavy stuff for a simple greeting! But one of the lessons for me here is that Paul sought to infuse everyday things with God’s truth. The most basic tasks of our lives can be elevated and transformed by seeing and doing them from God’s vantage point and for His honor. An email or conversation with a friend or colleague can be a conduit of grace. Showing care or kindness to someone can be an act of worship. Extending hospitality can practically be missionary. After all, it is not in the mountaintop experiences or the big events where we will most acutely sense being in synch with God’s rhythms. It is in purposefully sanctifying the mundane and often tedious things, dedicating them for His glory and for Him to use as He wishes, even if we never see the end result (and we often won’t).

Second, Paul’s greeting is a model for how to communicate with those around me. Grace and peace are extremely loaded, powerful words, and they remind me that in another letter, Paul said that we should make sure our speech is laden with grace (Col. 4:3). That should be how people perceive us. When I am gone, it would be great to be remembered as someone who spoke grace and peace into the lives of people around me. I’m not entirely sure that would always be the case. But that’s the goal.

Sometimes I think it would be useful to keep a diary for a week, in which I record and reflect on the communication I have each day with family, friends and co-workers, whether verbal or written. What would that show me about my real self (as opposed to who I like to think that I am)? Would it reveal me to be a complainer? Am I often negative? Have I talked anyone down? Does it tend to be about me and my own needs or wants? Do I try to impress?

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have not kept such a diary. But after all, I have a reason: I don’t think I’d like some of the things I would discover.

Our speech is supposed to be full of grace, Paul says. This means that every opportunity to interact with someone else is an opportunity to speak grace and peace. To build that person up. To say what may be the first affirming thing they have heard all day. To encourage. To sympathize. To laugh or rejoice with them. To tell them you will pray for them. To share the love and the hope that Christ has given you. Whatever the situation calls for. The point is this: am I aware of my calling to speak grace and peace into people’s lives, as God has spoken them so deeply into mine? Will I put myself aside in that moment, and focus on them?

I would love to hear what you think, or if you have experiences to share that illustrate these two truths. But that’s enough for now.

To anyone reading this blog – I wish God’s very grace and peace to you.

Grace. Peace. They are great words to stop and meditate on, aren’t they?

Apostle Paul Cures Writer's Block

The problem with writing a blog –  the problem with writing almost anything for that matter -  is the empty page or computer screen. Even worse is the empty mind. I experience both of these on a regular basis, particularly the latter. Ask anyone in my family (“Mom, Dad’s staring at the wall and drooling again.”).

So I’ve made the foolhardy decision to commit myself to series, in order to keep my shoulder to the wheel. For sure, it puts me on the hook for having to come up with something.   But it eliminates that nasty what-to-write-about- next question, since there is always another passage awaiting some study and reflection until you get to the end. It’s a good motivator too.

I’ve decided that I am going to do a brief series on Ephesians. First of all, I love Paul. I love the way his mind works. Not simply the brilliance, but the way he will allow a sudden turn of thought to set him off in a whole new direction. He could explode in praise or in holy rage on the turn of a dime.  He is impulsive, and I love that.

Secondly, Ephesians is loaded with great truth and deep theology. There is a lot of unpacking to be done and a lot of wisdom to gain. I certainly won’t do it justice but I’ll be better for trying.

While I will get into the exegesis of the text, I am not trying to write my own commentary (the thought of that should send you screaming into the night). In the end, it still comes down to what the text means for daily living. But the exegetical work will be needed because (as the saying goes) before I can know what it means for me, I have to know what it meant for the original hearers.

A couple of introductory matters to get out of the way: first, Ephesians was not written specifically to the Ephesian church but was probably a circular letter to the various churches in the region, of which the church at Ephesus was chief.  Second, Paul’s authorship has been questioned over the years, not only by “liberal” scholars but by those that are regarded as more moderate. There are definitely some serious questions that relate to the style and theology of the epistle as well as some external issues.

My goal is not to get caught up in these sorts of discussions. God saw to it that Ephesians wound up in the canon of Holy Scripture, and that is my starting point. It is a treasure-trove of truth to explore, and that is what I will try to do here. I won’t hit every verse, but will cherry-pick the passages that really leap out to me. If I skip over something you would like to see addressed, just let me know.  

OK. I’m on the hook now.  Here goes  - let’s dig in (coming soon).

Grace Even For Me

There is an old joke about a minister who was preaching on forgiveness.  Toward the end of the sermon, He asked his congregation, "How many of you have forgiven their enemies?” Everyone raised their hand except one small elderly lady. The minister asked, “Mrs. Jones, aren’t you willing to forgive your enemies?”  Smiling sweetly, she said “Oh, I don’t have any.”
      
The minister was thrilled and saw an opportunity for a lesson.  "Well Mrs. Jones, what a blessing!  Would you please come down in front of the congregation and tell us all how a person can live ninety-three years as you have and not have an enemy in the world?"
      
Sweet Mrs. Jones tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said "I outlived the old bags!"

As believers, we like to think that we are always ready to extend forgiveness and grace wherever it is needed. Yet, there is someone to whom we are slow to show mercy. Actually, we are more inclined to beat on and berate them. Down deep, we feel that this person does not merit the benefit of the grace we would offer.

That person would be me. I mean, you. Us.  

In the Psalms, David wrote that his sin was always right there, directly in front of him.  A constant, accusing reminder, staring him in the face.  He lived with it continually like a cloud that hung over him, as do many of us.  After all, we know who we really are inside.  We are hyper-aware of our weaknesses and failings.  We feel the pain of our disappointments with ourselves more acutely than anyone else.  Still, while we cannot take our sins and shortcomings lightly, or invoke a form of cheap grace to gloss over them, neither should we beat ourselves up about them. But that is the default position for many of us (certainly, not all. Some folks could use a major-league reality check for their own blind spots. Trust me. I have names.).

If we can’t just let our sins and weaknesses skate by, and we shouldn’t keep whacking ourselves over the head repeatedly with a 2x4 (neither healthy nor holy), what is the correct way to look at ourselves when we are so prone to fall short?

We need to take God’s attitude toward our failings.  Scripture tells us that He takes sin seriously, wants us to change and makes His enabling grace available for that. But – and this is important – the Bible teaches that He never browbeats or condemns us for our failings as we are so prone to do to ourselves. That voice you hear calling yourself names?  Take this to the bank - it’s not His. That’s you, feeding into the defeatist accusations you have listened to for so long. 

God, our perfectly loving Father, ALWAYS  loves us and ALWAYS calls us His beloved children. The old saying is true - He loves us too much to leave us as we are. But His correction is never condescending or abusive. It is firm, but it is completely loving.

Recently, we have been blessed with a grandson. Often, I become very aware of how I find myself talking to him, as I talked to my girls at that age. Think about how you would talk to a young child (forgetting that you begin to sound like an infant yourself. Dignity, in those moments, is overrated).  Think about all those instincts you have to say loving things, to protect them, affirm them, let them know they are safe and build them up – where do you think they come from?  You and I were made in God’s image. That is His nature coming through.  That is how He sees and deals with us, His precious kids. We need to keep this in mind when we look at ourselves. 

What do we so often say about others?  “Hate the sin, but love the sinner”.  How about extending that to one more sinner, and seeing ourselves as God does: as beloved, favored children of a loving Father, who is always ready to help us grow in those places where we dissapoint Him, others and ourselves?

The Gospel Or THE GOSPEL?

Around this time of year, when the weather is nice, something happens on the campus where I work. As I leave my office, I can see – and hear – that a few of the street corners are populated by a handful of gentlemen wearing signboards and yelling to people passing by that they will burn in hell if they do not change their ways and accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior.  One day I decided to play dumb (it’s a gift, really) and ask one of the guys what they were up to, and he said, “Son, we’re here to preach the Gospel.”

I have to admit that I have mixed reactions to these guys. One the one hand, who am I to fault  their zeal for the truth, and for the courage to go where people will ignore and possibly be hostile to them?  But at the same time, it occurs to me that they might be going about things the wrong way and in the process, cementing what many already believe: “Christians are a just bunch of rabid, judgmental  nutlogs.”

For much of my Christian life I also believed that the gospel is summed up in John 3:16. It was nothing more than that God loves me and has a wonderful plan for my life if I will turn it over to Him and repent.  But I have come to believe, through reading the four Gospels, that this boiled-down definition of “gospel” might be a little – well – shortchanged.   Incomplete at best.

What I mean is this: largely as a result of the revivalism of the eighteenth century and afterward, “the gospel” has become shorthand for “Repent and believe in Jesus Christ and you will be saved.”  For the sake of preaching a simple message in tent meetings all over the country, it was distilled to that. After all, it's sound marketing strategy to have a slogan, if you will. So the essence of the gospel was reduced to a turn-or-burn proposition. 

Now, is “repent and believe” a true statement, and one that needs to be proclaimed?  Absolutely.  But is that the sum of "the gospel"?  I used to think so.

But it isn't - at least, not as far as the four Gospels seem to indicate. Jesus did preach that people should repent and turn their hearts toward the Father. That was and is the necessary first step. But Jesus spent a lot more time talking about the results of that repentance, namely, living a changed life on an entirely different trajectory. The gospel includes learning why we must forgive others, exercise justice, practice humility, and grow in love for God and people. These things, for Jesus, seem to be as much a part of the gospel as the necessary "fire insurance".  Much more so, if you sum up the time he spent teaching on issues like these.

In Jesus’ words found in Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, the gospel is about the ongoing radical conversion of our lives. It is about the creation of a new and very different community that bears witness to the fact that God came to live among people  - and in doing so, changed the ballgame entirely. Everything is now to be based on an active love for God and neighbor. Kingdom people are to be servants, continually seeking to have their hearts transformed to exhibit increasing Christlikeness, acting out of purity of intention, freedom from anxiety, and the desire to do His will in the world. Above all, we are to revel in our relationship with God our Father as a child to a loving parent. And, we are called to preach and live this gospel - this whole gospel - before others, to compel them to want to join us on the journey.

Let's face it - preaching turn-or-burn would be a lot easier.  But if I am a gospel believer, it has to go well beyond that. Proclaiming the gospel Jesus taught is both the call and the challenge of our lives, because it is inescapably tied to our own growth and conversion.

I can only preach it to others inasmuch as I am willing to be changed myself.

When I say that I want to follow Christ and proclaim His gospel, do I fully understand what I am saying?

I Am One Of Them

There is more than one way to lose track of the calendar. For example, I have one of those date books that functions for me as my memory. So imagine the panic that ensued when one day, I placed it on top of my car, immediately forgot it was there and took off down a NJ highway. It took me a minute to realize why I saw nothing but flying papers in my rearview mirror.

Well, despite the way it might sound, I haven’t lost track of the calendar. I know that Easter is just days away.  But my mind is still on Palm Sunday – specifically, on something that happened during Sunday service.

When it came time for the Gospel reading, we all stood and followed along as the entire passion narrative from Luke was read. Several people played different parts, including us, the congregation as a whole.  The priest read the words of Jesus.  Someone else was the narrator, and someone else played Peter’s part. We in the congregation were the voices of the crowd.

This was a simple moment, but it was one of those powerful times where head knowledge and heart knowledge connected in a new and even shocking way.  I know the passion story about as well as anybody, and I understand that it was my sins among others that were the reason for Jesus coming and hanging on the cross. I know He did it willingly, but I am also aware that I put Him there. At least, I know this in my head.

But what drove it home that morning in a powerful way was to hear the whole congregation yell for Barabbas to be released, and for Jesus to be put to death.  To hear us mock Him mercilessly.  And most especially, to hear my own voice cry out “Crucify Him!”  Me, a friend of Jesus.  “CRUCIFY HIM!”

It’s hard to fully communicate how this hit me. On the surface, I felt a huge disconnect between the words coming out of my mouth and knowing where I now stand with God.  But on a deeper level, it drove home my incredible sinfulness, knowing that before I gave my life to Christ I would clearly have been one of those people screaming for his death. I am, or was, no different than they were.  I would have wanted his head. Maybe for just the entertainment (there’s nothing quite like a good crucifixion), or maybe because I saw Him as a genuine threat to society and wanted Him gone. Regardless, I would have been there, demanding that He be nailed to a tree. “Crucify Him!”

But the next thought I had was “And yet, He did this for me.”

Colossians 1:21-22 reminds us of this: Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation.

I scream for His crucifixion. But Jesus stretches out His hands and says "It doesn't matter. I love you and want you with Me forever. That's why I am here on the cross." 

And, the best is yet to come. Have an amazing Easter.

Final Duck or Close To It

OK – we are coming down the home stretch in lining up all the mental, spiritual and emotional ducks regarding my move to the Catholic Church. (This particular duck on the left looks delicious).  For those of you that have been reading and have hung in with me, I am grateful!  For those of you who are bored beyond tears, well – who can blame you?  Sometimes I am ready to gnaw off a limb myself. Or a wing.  But take heart – other topics are on the way.  Maybe next time we’ll talk about jazz, recipes or the disappointment that was the NY Giants this season.

This is the church history portion, which is a little different from prevous posts. Up untill now, much of this has been very personal and subjective. But church history is more objective.   And granted, this short sketch of the earliest years is overly simplified for the sake of brevity. But it is a rich subject, and if anyone wants to know more, plenty of information is available. This will be a little longer than usual, but hang with me here.

Back in the earliest days of the church as the Gospel was being spread, there was no defined New Testament, no authoritative body of writings. Some of the Gospels were in circulation in the 50s and 60s, as were Paul’s letters and others later on – but nothing was yet recognized as being God-breathed Scripture beyond the Old Testament.  It was all just out there.  Tradition was largely being passed along orally, from apostles to the next church leaders. Paul refers to this when he mentions “tradition” in 2 Thess. 2:15; 3:6 and other places. The Greek word paradosis is understood as not simply referring to the writings but to the wider tradition regarding church practice and body life that the apostles wanted to communicate.

This tradition that was being passed along orally and in writings helped the early church’s liturgy to develop.  Church practices and hierarchy were forming according to the apostles’ teachings.  The church as we understand it was slowly taking shape. Some of these things wound up in what we now know as the New Testament, but not all.

How do we know that all of this apostolic teaching was being passed on faithfully and without addition or subtraction?  First of all, the earliest church fathers were in conversation with the apostles. Ignatius was taught by Peter.  Polycarp was taught by John. And there were others. Linus, who was also part of the next generation, was known to be a companion of Paul.  And so on.

Even more importantly, these early church leaders were incredibly passionate and jealous for the truth, and guarded against ANY change in the apostles teachings. Nothing got past these guys that was not in keeping with what they had received.  A friend of mine referred to them as “truth Nazis”.   If you need any proof of that, remember: these are the leaders who helped to shape and define what we now have as the NT.  They were the ones who fought against the many heresies in the early church related to who Jesus was, the nature of God, and other issues.  It was they who fully articulated the doctrines of the Trinity, the deity of Christ and others, only partially spelled out in Scripture, that we now hold as central to our faith.  These were the people who fought tooth-and-nail for doctrinal purity.

Every time you pick up your NT, recite the early creeds or talk some of the major points of theology, you are recognizing their work and affirming their zeal for the truth.  We are grateful for their dedication and their vigilant defense of the faith.

At the same time, it is in the writings of these very leaders that we also see references to the sacrifice of mass, the real presence Christ in the Eucharist and other things that have come to be known as "Catholic" ideas and practices. While these ideas were not fully articulated yet, they are very much there in the earliest writings. 

Remember, these early church leaders would reject, in a heartbeat, anything that did not totally conform with the truth they had received.  So in other words, these “Catholic” ideas were part of the tradition that had been passed onto them from the apostles.

This is why for me any many others like me, our reversion or conversion to the Catholic Church has its roots in the facts and flow of church history. It is how I and others try to connect with the earliest church and its practices. It helps us to line up with the first generations of believers.  I think if more Protestants understood that, it would help to break down some of the unfortunate misunderstandings that sometimes exist between Protestants and Catholics.

I want to close with three things that have made a big impact on me in this area.  The first comes from Protestant theologian Carl Trueman, in a review of Noll and Nystrom’s  Joint Declaration Of Justification, and he mirrors what other Protestant writers have also concluded:

“…Roman Catholicism is, at least in the west, the default position. Rome has a better claim to historical continuity and institutional unity than any other Protestant denomination…we need good solid reasons for not being Catholic." 

Second, Chuck Redfern is my best friend since college days, and was a committed Christian before we met. He was instrumental in helping me to get established in my faith as a Protestant believer.  He remains a Protestant and is a pastor and writer. He wrote this to me as I was making the transition (slightly edited with his permission):

"I was praying in a Catholic church once (I took the open door and the empty sanctuary to be an invitation), and it struck me: This is 'the Church' meaning, this is the Church that goes back 2,000 years and from which we all sprang….Protestantism was not God's 'Plan A.'  The Reformation was necessary, alas - but that doesn't deny that the Catholic Church is, honestly, the 'mother church', the church in which the others were birthed. " 

Lastly, this one is even more meaningful to me. A brother in Christ and good friend, whose church I was leaving, was bothered by my decision and confessed to not understanding why I would do this.  Yet, as a spiritually mature guy, he decided he would talk with me rather than just stew. So we met for dinner one evening recently, and had a great discussion. I laid out the points I have been making in these blog posts, and how God has been leading me.  In the end, he said (paraphrasing): “This is not something I would do, but it now makes sense to me. I get it, and I wish you God’s best.” We are the brothers we have always been, and that is what is most important to me.  I am grateful for how he approached this, and hope that others would do the same.  I am always willing to talk.

I feel a summary blog coming on before I let this all go, desiring to grab the various strings from these last four posts and combine them into some neat arrangement. But we’ll see.  Or we’ll talk Giants, provided I can keep it from becoming too morose (that would be an act of grace for sure!).  If I do, I will smoke some duck and all are invited.

Ducks Part Three

I don’t know about you, but whenever I do something that makes others shake their heads in disbelief, I have always found it helpful to have someone else to blame.  It’s good to have another person to take the heat – and even better when they are not immediately available to defend themselves.

In this case, I am blaming one of my former professors (he'll never know). While he was technically a professor of New Testament at a Protestant evangelical seminary, he was also beginning to teach a spiritual formation class and was exposing his students to a wide variety of devotional literature most had not heard of before. That’s how I received a copy of my first book by Henri Nouwen, called The Wounded Healer.

The timing was a God-thing.  I had just lost my father, and could identify with being wounded and wanting to use my experience to help others. But the book had a much larger impact on me. It not only introduced me to a great Christian writer who drew from what is known as the “contemplative tradition”, but by extension, opened up a whole new world to me.

In my previous “Ducks” posts, I mentioned that this tradition is partially responsible for leading me back to the Catholic Church.  So what is the contemplative tradition anyway?  It began with some believers of the third century who left society to live in the desert in relative isolation. Their goal was to renounce themselves and follow Jesus more closely, and this movement eventually grew to include thousands of people.   

Not too long afterward, other believers sought this sort of life, but with a greater emphasis on community.  That’s the reason for the growth of monasteries throughout the early years of the church, through the Middle Ages and beyond, where intense private devotion was combined with a communal atmosphere, service and manual labor.

Reams of valuable devotional writing came from people who practiced this way, which is no surprise.  After all, they were pursuing the spiritual life 24/7.  To be sure, some of them carried things too far.  You can find plenty of crazy stories of brothers and sisters who engaged in some pretty odd behavior back then.   But that doesn’t at all negate the rich wisdom that was also a product of monastic life.

In digging more deeply over the years, I have come into familiar and ongoing contact with Benedict of Nursia, Theresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, Brother Lawrence, Francis De Sales, Thomas Merton and several others.  And I have noticed a pattern:  when I have spent time with these writers and tried to incorporate some of their thoughts and practices into my life, those were times of consistent growth where I saw differences and felt closer to the Lord. When I would disengage from this (which I did, many times), my sense of nearness and dependence on God seemed to wane. That’s probably more of a commentary on my own inconsistancies, but I know that it’s a fact.

The question then comes up: “Why go back to the Catholic Church? Why not practice this way and remain where you are?”  It’s a good question, and I guess the answer is: been there, done that. The result is a sort of disconnect. I found myself worshipping in a certain tradition privately during the week and in a completely different way on Sunday mornings. I needed consistency in my private and public expressions of faith.  What’s more, if I was to going to be able to share my experiences with like-minded folk, it would more likely be in the Catholic Church, where the contemplative tradition was born and has flourished.  While there are certainly exceptions, evangelical Protestants tend not to spend a lot of time with contemplative writing and practice.  I don't mean that as an indictment at all; it's simply not on the radar or part of the culture for a variety of reasons  - one of which is a greater focus on current popular devotional writers.  

Next time I will try to wrap this thread up by writing about how church history has impacted my move. But meanwhile, I am comforted in knowing that this is all Dr. Weigelt’s fault.  'Preciate it, Doc.