Book Review: Reaching Out

Loneliness, hostility, illusion - these things mark the lives of so many humans, wandering through life trying to survive, trying to find meaning, trying to make sense of it all. Broken by a sinful world, we find ourselves isolated and angry, living in illusions of our own making that cover over the reality of our pain.

Rather than avoiding all three, Henri Nouwen sees each as a starting place toward wholeness, as we realize each has something to teach us, and each can lead us deeper into the heart of God. In Reaching Out, Nouwen explains how our loneliness, painful and frightening as it is, can be transformed into solitude, the quiet place where we can know ourselves better, and the place where we can finally rest in the comforting presence of God's Spirit. "Instead of running away from our loneliness and trying to forget or deny it, we have to protect it and turn it into a fruitful solitude." The Christian life needs its time in the desert; by developing hearts that are comfortable with solitude, we can find again what it means to commune with God, and thus be better equipped to live with our neighbors.

This leads to the second movement - from hostility to hospitality. Because we are lonely we are protective of our space, and we often use others to fill up the empty spaces in our lives. "When hostility is converted into hospitality then fearful strangers can become guests revealing to their hosts the promises they are carrying with them." Hospitality, according to Nouwen, is "the creation of a free space where  the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy." Hospitality is a ministry in which the host creates space for the guest to come as they are and find themselves. Nouwen sketches this out in the context of the teacher/student, parent/child, and healer/patient relationships. In each of these, says Nouwen, "Affirmation, encouragement and support are often much more important than criticism. The good host is the one who not only helps the guests to see that they have hidden talents, but who is able to help them develop and deepen these talents so that they can continue their way on their own with a renewed self-confidence."

Unfortunately, our loneliness and hostility is often hidden behind a veneer of illusion. We have such a hard time getting to the heart of our brokenness. We live as if we are immortal. We cover over our hostility with sentimentality. We make idols of our dreams, thinking ourselves much greater and of more importance than we really are. The answer is found only in prayer - not the pious platitudes of religion, but open, honest communication before the God who knows us better than we know ourselves. "When, however, prayer makes us reach out to God, not on our own but on his terms, then prayer pulls us away from self-preoccupations, encourages us to leave familiar ground, and challenges us to enter into a new world which cannot be contained within the narrow boundaries of our mind or heart."

Like all of Nouwen's writings, this book is deceptively simple. It is a short and easy read, yet so rich and deep that it requires time to ponder, contemplate, and re-read. Even more, it requires action - not programs or plans, but action of the soul, as we seek to reorient our lives back into line with God's loving desires for us. It is an extremely helpful book for people whose lives have settled into religious routine, who feel stifled, who feel like it's time for something new but are uncertain where to turn. It's a book that requires a little maturity, but will lead to so much more.

Book Review: awakening the quieter virtues

We often define our faith by a big list of things we should do, and things we shouldn't do. Most of the items on those list also fall into the category of obvious and important things we should do (like go to church, love our mother, behave respectfully) and, more explicitly, the Big Sins we should avoid (murder, lust, pornography, addictions, voting for a Democrat, and stealing).

Gregory Spencer has written Awakening the Quieter Virtues, a very helpful book calling our attention to the fact that more often it's the little things that really count, the quieter virtues that really make a difference. It's the unseen practices that mold us and shape us as Christ-followers, and that slowly change the world around us. Much like yeast working through the dough, the quieter virtues act from deep within us, not calling attention to themselves yet all the while forming us and assisting us as we seek to be like Christ.

Not only does he point out this often-overlooked point; Spencer spends the bulk of the book working through these quieter virtues, explaining what they may look like in our 21st-Century lives. He peppers his work with stories from his own life and the lives of his friends and students (he teaches at Westmont College). The book is not an esoteric description of spiritual disciplines unattainable by normal, non-spiritual folks. He proves that with a little effort, anybody can put these virtues into practice and slowly see their spirit drawn closer to the Spirit who gives life.

Certainly these are important virtues for our world today, and if the church were to put these into practice, we would begin to shine a brighter light into a dark world. Virtues Spencer explores include discernment, innocence, modesty, reverence, contentment, and generosity. Each virtue is paired with a spiritual discipline that is useful to form that virtue in the reader's heart. However, I must say again that Spencer is not working toward a pious, self-righteous unearthly spirituality. He labors to plant these virtues firmly into the soil of our postmodern lives.

This certainly isn't a theological tome, and the fact that Spencer teaches college students shows up in his writing. Some may be put off by his attempts to be catchy, but in the end I appreciated his efforts to contextualize this work, making sense of it for our time and place. It reads lighter than Nouwen or Merton, but to that end would be especially useful for people without much (if any) experience with the concept of spiritual disciplines.

Awakening the Quieter Virtues was a gift given to Covenant pastors at last year's Midwinter conference. I appreciate that people within our denomination are generous in their gifts, and thoughtful in the books they send out way.

A lesson from warts, for Maundy Thursday

I have a wart on my finger. It's been there for a year or so. A couple times I've tried to get rid of it using homeopathic home remedy stuff. But none of that worked. So two weeks ago I visited Dr. Schmidt and asked him to please help me rid myself of this pest.

He applied the cold stuff, it scabbed up, and yesterday, when I went back for my follow-up, he was amazed at how much better it all looked. Although, I had to have another treatment, and it will still take awhile for it to be gone.

But I was struck by his explanation of a wart, and how we get rid of them. Turns out, a wart is a little self-contained unit sitting between the skin (although they tend to break out through the skin) and the body's innards. (medical professionals will have to excuse my lay-person's explanation here).

To get rid of the wart, Dr. Schmidt said, we freeze it, which causes the cells of the wart to break down, which then allows the body's immune system to get into the wart, thus healing the body from the inside out. The treatment doesn't heal the wart, the treatment simply creates the right conditions for the body to heal itself.

A few days later, I had a conversation with a person struggling with a hardened heart. This person had known their share of woundings, of failed trust, of brokenness. This person had put their trust out there a number of times, only to be crushed every time. They were having a difficult time learning to trust, learning to hope, learning to live in the belief that All will be made Well in Christ.

I was reminded of a poem I wrote many, many years ago. Just a little ditty, I think I wrote more for the rhyme scheme than for the deeper meaning. And yet. . .it's become almost prophetic.

I built a wall around my heart
inside of which to hide;
outwardly I never hurt,
but inwardly I died.

I find, in many ways, this becomes the theme verse of my life, and my life's work is seeking to undo that wall, to allow Life to flow back in. Truthfully, it's only natural. We're all created with defense mechanisms that help us negotiate a dangerous world. But those same defense mechanisms often leave us cold, lonely, mistrusting. We were created to live in a web of relationships with God and others, but over time we've learned that relationships hurt; the more hurt we feel, the more we close ourselves off from others, the more we learn that trusting isn't safe. We reach the point where we no longer hurt outside, but inside is another story. Our souls lay dying and dormant inside these fortresses we have created. We long to reach out, but we know that reaching out will only lead to more pain and sorrow. And the tension is unbearable.

Enter in the wart. Like the wart, I believe our hearts/souls become these self-contained little units, impenetrable, unhealed, broken, causes of pain and suffering. They have closed themselves off, and thus cannot be healed. Many try so many forms of self-medication, but in the end, nothing can break through, nothing can bring fresh, healing blood into that place.

The key, though, lies not in finding the medication that will heal. The key comes in breaking up that shell, and allowing the healing to take care of itself. We who are in Christ have the healing power of His Spirit dwelling in us. The cure for the Problem is already there, ready to do its job; the key is simply letting it.

Look at it this way: I can try to 'manufacture' my healing; I can look at my finger and say "You shouldn't have a wart! Get Better!" but that will never work. Other people can come along and say "That's gross. You shouldn't have that wart." But it won't go away. Even now, there's nothing I can do to heal the wart. The works been done. I just have to let the body do its thing. About all I can do is apply a little ointment to help speed up the process.

I recognize now that this is the answer to the heart problem. I can't tear down those walls, I can't just tell myself to get better. None of us can wake up one day and say "Well, that's over, so let's just pick ourselves up and be healed." It's not in our power. (note: this is why it's not helpful for the rest of us to say to each other, 'You just need to learn to trust more.')

It's not about us!

It's about letting the Spirit of God do what the Spirit of God does - flood into broken spaces with healing.

It's about creating conditions that open up the door for the Spirit to work. It's about breaking up the walls of that shell, in order that the Spirit can enter in and destroy the evil cells, renewing and healing the good, healthy cells.

Which means it's mostly out of our hands. Yes, I had to go visit Dr. Schmidt to begin the process. In the same way, we need to go to God, the Heavenly Physician, and show him the problem. And tell him "I've tried to heal this thing, but it won't go away." And let him start the process.

I also have to do a little work, putting on ointment every night. In the same way, it helps if we do our part - spending time in God's word, spending time in prayer, sharing time with fellow Christ-followers. There are nights I'd rather go to bed and not have to deal with the ointment, the bandaids, the time it takes. But I do it because I know it helps. . . a little. So, too, taking the steps to walk toward spiritual healing isn't always easy, it's not always something we want to do; but if we choose to, it certainly helps.

And here's the thing - I doubt I'll know the moment the wart is gone. One day I'll simply look and say "Wow! I'm healed!" In the same way, this heart-healing process happens whether we're paying attention or not. The Spirit is quiet that way, doing His work behind the scenes, under the skin, a little bit at a time. And one day, I believe, we wake up to the sunshine around us, to the wind in the trees, to a smile in our hearts, and we say, "Wow! I think I'm healed!"

Tonight, Maundy Thursday, and tomorrow and Saturday and Easter Sunday all prove that God isn't about big shows and fantabulous special effects. The Kingdom of God is like yeast, like a mustard seed, like a man stooping to wash a few friends' feet, like a man rising from the dead when nobody's around to be amazed by it, like the wind of the Spirit that comes and goes as it pleases, like the immune system of the body, doing its work silently and effectively even when we don't notice.

All that's left for us is to say "Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner," and "Lord, heal me, a broken and contrite heart."All that's left is for us to come to the table and receive his Body and Blood once again. And then, even though it's scary, even though it hurts. . .then, we trust.