"Exhaustingly joyous": Lee C. Camp on vocation

Lee C. Camp has an invigorating post on vocation. The following excerpt begins with a quote from Evelyn Underhill:

“Our place is not the auditorium but the stage—or, as the case may be, the field, workshop, study, laboratory—because we ourselves form part of the creative apparatus of God, or at least are meant to form part of the creative apparatus of God. He made us in order to use us, and use us in the most profitable way; for his purpose, not ours. To live a spiritual life means subordinating all other interests to that single fact.”

We are not called, she goes on to say, to be amateurs, messy and hap-hazard in our work, but to keep a steady hand on the plow, employing constancy, subordinating our own agendas to a larger agenda one may sometimes not understand.

This liberty—this rigorous, demanding vocation—to form part of the creative apparatus of God, is exhaustingly joyous... It is the sort of freedom and joy that the famed runner Eric Liddel, was trying to get at when his character in Chariots of Fire says, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.” Or the well-spoken commentary of Frederick Beuchner upon vocation: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

James Houston on Christian mysticism

by Edmondo Senatore at photo.net

I have at times been very critical of Christian "mysticism." I grew up in a tradition which very much emphasized personal experiences with God (focusing especially on "inner peace"), and at many important junctures in my life I have experienced moments which I readily describe as personal encounters with God. And yet I have at times become wary and even critical of such emphases, for numerous reasons, including: the individualistic subjectivity of such mysticism, the emotional manipulation sometimes present in churches aiming to acheive such spiritual experiences (especially in neopentecostal-influenced Latin American evangelicalism), the concreteness of Anabaptist concepts of discipleship (Nachfolge), and Latin American theology's emphasis on the here-and-now.

I recently came across a chapter in a book at the library titled "Reflections on mysticism: How valid is evangelical anti-mysticism?" The book is in homage to Klaus Bockmühl (who --judging by our library's collection-- was a fairly conservative, pastoral German theologian of the 20th century). Houston describes him saying that "while in temperment he was more anti-mystical, he had a strong conviction of Biblical mysticism" (p. 163).

Houston begins the chapter by outlining some common Protestant objections to mysticism: it is associated with visions and raptures, it implies direct encounter with God in a non-mediated way, it is seen as a expression of Roman Catholic piety or interpreted as Neoplatonism, it is rejected by the Enlightenment, it is suspected for its tendency towards individualism and radicalism, and it creates an elite in the Church. He mentions that F. Heiler juxtaposes mysticism (receptive) with profetism (resolute), and that A. Nygren equates mysticism with egocentrism as opposed to theocentric faith seen in the Bible and the Reformation.

Houston then proceeds to explain how Christian mysticism differs from Platonism. He mentions its concept of God (non-existent in Platonism), the notion of grace (God initiates, not man’s self-realization), the idea that virtue is a gift, and not a means of purification, the communal orientation (fellowship and not withdrawal), and the absence of dualism (not just an elite are called to a “higher” contemplative life). However there are correlative parts which explain the influence of Platonism on early Christian, mainly the importance of the invisible reality and the immortality of the soul.

Houston continues by expounding upon the qualities of Christian mysticism, noting that mysticism must be present in Christianity if we are to speak of Christian “wholeness”. It is part of being human: “the self is essentially more than a mere self; transcendence belongs to its nature” (p. 165, citing L. Dupré).

• Christian mysticism is conservative in nature; the religious experience is shaped by the dogma. “The Christian mystic does not experience unidentified reality which he then can conveniently label God, but rather he is aware of the mediation of Jesus Christ, through the Holy Spirit, of the reality and the love of God Himself” (p. 173). Faithful Christian mystics do not enunciate new dogmas or use their experiences to establish or confirm Biblical truths. 
• Christian mysticism leads to the embodiment of Christian living, rather than to narcissism. “To experience God directly in one’s life, as the theophanies of the Old and New Testament depict, is also to be transformed by God [… Christian mystics] are not such morbid, pathological, sentimental or weak creatures. Strength, courage, definiteness, wisdom, realism, truth, love are their fundamental characteristics” (p. 175). 
• Christian mysticism is not a special faculty, but rather the integration of what we are called to be. “‘The Christian mystic’, then, is simply […a person] who is ‘living by the Gospel’. He or she has an integrity of heart and mind, for the things of God” (p. 176).

Houston concludes the chapter with the suggestion that such mysticism could not have originated in the Greco-Roman world, but only from the Judeo-Christian concept of “the presence of Yahweh with His covenant people, and of Jesus Christ in the Church. True mysticism is simply expressing personally the presence of God in our midst. […]If it is Christian mysticism when we allow God’s self-giving and self-revealing life to penetrate into the innermost centre of our human persons, and in turn to enable us to ‘love our neighbor as ourselves’, then clearly we should seek it with all our heart, soul, and might” (p. 177).

I consider the article a helpful defense of the validity of "Christian mysticism", which at the same time provides helpful paramters to protect against the non-Christian distortions of such experiences.

"Mysticism, then, is not sanctity. The heart of godliness is love, divine love, that is both received and shared. So progress in loving and being loved reflects more progress in humility, self-giving, simplicity, and godly contentment than the more dramatic gifts we tend to associate with the mystical life. It is more the heroism of the commonplace than the sensationalism of the extraordinary" (p. 166).
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Houston, J. M. (1991). Reflections on mysticism: How valid is evangelical anti-mysticism?. In M. Bockmühl & H. Burkhardt (Eds.), Gott lieben und seine Gebote halten: In memoriam Klaus Bockmühl (pp. 163-181). Giessen: Brunnen.

Behold! March 2012

Spirituality
I really appreciated this piece by Russell Moore; oh that all Christian writers was so skilled in combining sound theology, pastoral wisdom, and vivid expression.
I also really appreciated DLM's piece on friendship as advocacy.


Technology
McSweeny's has some good parodies of social media and blogging.
NPR uncovers one reason Facebook is in some ways anti-community: it helps make the popular more popular and the lonely feel more lonely.


Random
M. Nenadov summarizes a seminar which concludes that "there are basically no compelling economic reasons for development aid to be successful."
NYTimes writes up on Guaraní, which--according to my New Years Resolutions-- I am learning this year.
The Amazing Race passed through Paraguay.
Eric Peters hosted a listening party for his new CD at the Rabbit Room: there were some really nice songs, and Eric's barren honesty is so heartening.

Lenten readings

Two brief essays on the fact that life isn't about me, and spirituality isn't about improving myself:

"Teach Children the Bible is Not About Them" by Sally Lloyd-Jones
"Giving Up Self-Discipline for Lent" by Mark Galli

The Myth of Certainty by Daniel Taylor

“One influential Christian speaker says Nietzsche should be burned rather than read, and suddenly, reading Nietzsche is strangely attractive.” (p. 37)

This was one of several moments in which I totally identified with Mr. Taylor as I read his 1986 book The Myth of Certainty. Basically the book responds to the query “How can a thinking person with a keen, sometimes crushing, awareness of the complexity and contingency of all things make passionate commitment to act in the service of any contested cause?” (p. 98) Taylor is a professor who finds himself straddling the line between two very different worlds, that of the secular academy and that of the conservative Christian church. And yes, he is an English professor, which explains the alliteration of that last quote. In this book he shares his struggles and wisdom, and takes a lot of cues and epigraphs from Karl Barth, Flannery O'Connor, Soren Kierkegaard, and Blaise Pascal.

It's not an amazing book that shook my world, but it did affirm me in a lot of what I've come to believe. It's kind of cheesy at times, as he includes fictional accounts of a character which mirror the reflections of each chapter. Some interesting quotes from the book:

     "While a little learning alienates, much learning often reconciles" (18).

     “[Kierkegaard] recognized how subtly intertwined are our beliefs with our instinct for self-preservation, and counseled the greatest sensitivity for those who seek to lead someone from error into truth:

    First and foremost, no impatience… A direct attack only strengthens a person in his illusion, and at the same time embitters him. There is nothing that requires such gentle handling as an illusion if one wishes to dispel it. If anything prompts the prospective captive to set his will in opposition, all is lost… [T]he indirect method…, loving and serving the truth, arranges everything…, and then shyly withdraws (for love is always shy), so as not to witness the admission which he makes to himself alone before God—that he has lived hitherto in an illusion.

    ...Only those with great confidence in the truth they hold can risk Kierkegaard’s approach.” (25-26)

     “T.S. Eliot sees a certain kind of doubt as inevitable in matters of faith and correctly suggests that one’s attitude toward doubt is more significant than one’s having doubt: ‘Every man who thinks and lives by thought must have his own skepticism…that which ends in denial, or that which leads to faith and which is somehow integrated into faith which transcends it.’ The notion of transcending doubt by accepting it into faith, rather than by suppressing it (for it can never be destroyed), is crucial. Perhaps doubt, rather than something to be crushed, can be made to serve faith.

      “Doubt can only be robbed of its paralyzing and destructive qualities when it is admitted for what it is—which isn’t nearly as much as it appears when not admitted—and is accounted for in the process of faith. Normally doubt is seen as sapping faith’s strength. Why not the reverse? Where there is doubt, faith has its reason for being. Clearly faith is not needed where certainty supposedly exists, but only in situations where doubt is possible, even present.” (80-81)

    “The reflective Christian must steer between unfounded claims of certainty on the one hand and an equally spurious absolutizing of relativism on the other.” (92). “The Christian should neither seek to deny the risk inherent in faith nor accept the implication that the secularist is on surer ground.” (97)

    “Truth cannot be adequately evaluated on an objective or propositional level. How one holds a truth, one’s intention in regard to truth, the use to which a truth is put, the position against which a truth is asserted, the relationship between one truth and an equally valid balancing truth—all these and more determine the ultimate character of truth in our lives. Sadly, even truth can be made to function as falsehood when it is fragmented, distorted, or isolated from its position to the whole.” (129)

     "We should avoid being sucked into negative struggles that are characterized primarily by what they are against, depending often on fear, suspicion, and even hatred for their primary motivation. Seek out, instead, constructive tasks that bring healing, enlightenment, and encouragement rather than bitterness and enmity.... Criticize the church when such criticism is called for, but also seek ways with your own life to make it what it should be. And aside from controversial things, there should be paintings painted, plays performed, poems written, discoveries made, ideas explored, causes pursued, and tasks accomplished which have nothing to do with partisanship of any kind, simply because we are human beings whom God has given many, many things to do." (136).

On the internet and intentionality

I’m back with an online “presence,” after taking a month of internet abstinence to reflect on the meaning of all this. Last year I found myself caught up in Facebook and my list of RSS feeds in such a way that I would describe as lustful. Lust in the sense that Oswald Chambers taught me to see, this desire for immediate stimulus and gratification, that ends up emasculating one’s soul. I’m convinced that one of the keys to human flourishing is in self-denial of such lusts and the training of one’s soul for slow, deep delights. And yet, there I was, hanging on the edge of the most frivolous updates, seeking meaning in a new post, wasting time and mismanaging my soul. It got to the point where I didn’t even read any of these interesting sites I was following, I just quickly skimmed it for some sort of intellectual or spiritual stimulus.

Clearly this was not a path I wanted to continue. Deep, reflective thought and reading has always been an important part of who I am. To let that be replaced by (un-)social media and RSS (does-not-)feeds would not contribute to my growth and pleasure. So following the Christian tradition, I cancelled my RSS subscriptions and deactivated my Facebook account in a sort of fast. Fasts are powerful to reveal to us our underlying motives and unfilled desires, and they serve as opportunities to reevaluate our priorities.

One of my constant concerns is inspired in the Apostle Pauls’ resolute “I refuse to let anything have power over me” (1 Corinthians 6:12, CEV). I want my will to be robust and tenacious, unreduced by sedatives and distractions. I want my psychological health to be independent of material goods and outside stimuli (aside: I sometimes worry that I have a certain dependency on yerba mate). Time away from the internet reminded me that life is just as abundant when I don’t read every last narcissistic expression of my acquaintances, or keep up to date on the latest theological disputes in the blogging world. Moreover, I was reminded that unless I dialogue reflectively with this deluge of information, I will be undesirably molded by it. I need to read less and more deeply, and I need to write my thoughts out (with paper and pen).

One of the better news stories I heard on NPR during January was this author interview with Clay Johnson about the subtle but ruinous dangers of our information diet, and how easy it is to become closed-minded. He notes that “what choice of information gives us is the ability to misinform ourselves in all kinds of new ways.” I am reminded as well of Marva Dawn’s admonition to avoid becoming a liar by a L.I.A.R. (low information-action ratio). What good is it to know, know, know more and more if I’m inert in regards to such “knowledge?” Dear St. John would say that this is indeed no knowledge as all, as knowing and doing are so inseparable in his theology.

So I’m back online, but I purpose to be more modest and intentional about it, by reading more deliberately and writing more thoughtfully. I pray that this information diet would lead me to relate with greater loyalty to those who surround me, and to act with greater faithfulness in service to the world.