a parishoner shared this with me.

Plato or Jesus? 


Posted on November 25, 2011 -written by Richard Rohr, on his blog

I remember when our church history prof, the last day of four years of classes, said walking out of the classroom in 1970: "When all is said and done, the church has been much more influenced by Plato than by Jesus!" We were stunned, but knew it was true: We had been given a world of universal truths and forms that had to be protected by the priestly class, and body and soul were enemies, not friends. This is Plato's world of inexorable laws, not Jesus' world of freedom and grace.



Jesus, the consummate Jew, saw his God as personal, intimate, and conversational. The beauty of Jesus' "Father" was that he could adjust to circumstances, forgive, show mercy, and change the rules for the sake of the relationship itself. Divine union itself was the goal, not private moral perfection. Life was not a courtroom for Jesus, but a living room, kitchen, and bedroom. Whatever worked to bring us to relationship was to be used, and Jesus used it-because he knew God did the same. Jesus made human life a dialogue with the divine, whereas Plato made it a monologue from on high. Jesus was concerned with particulars and persons, Plato with universals and ideas.

 For Jesus body and soul were not enemies, and body and Spirit were not enemies either; but both worked together as friends and partners. People were one united whole at their best. Jesus relocalized truth and morality in the heart, while not excluding the head. But we moved it back into the head where there was hardly any room for the heart or the body, God's heart or our own. Christian civilization, and Western politics, has been much the worse for it.

God's World is Pretty Amazing!

http://www.ted.com/talks/david_gallo_shows_underwater_astonishments.html

it is skating time once again

Today for a break from essay writing I went skating at the Forum.  Before skating started I enjoyed watching SMU Huskies practice.  Ice  -was grace.  The gentleman who gave me tips to be a better skater was also grace. 
Sometimes God comes in a sudden change of plans and change of regular schedule.

little things

Yesterday and today I set to do doing a whole lot of little things. I did them because the number of big projects -all requiring writing and creativity- were overwhelming. The little tasks, not all of which were immediately necessary, took off enough pressure that I was able to start tackling the big projects. All the tasks completed were tiny minute sparks of grace. Together the sparks were a grace extrordinaire!

Sunday Sermon -Nov.13

Judges is a book that is full of conquest after conquest.  The book of Judges at first glance is about war, victory over other people, possession of land, movement of troops, and gory details of death at the hand of another. And thrown into the mix to make it oh so much more complicated, is God, commanding the people into war, punishing the people for lack of obedience through reversal of fortune, and dominating one side of the battle field.

A lesson like this appears shortly after Remembrance Day. It is passage that turns many people off from seeking after God, it disgusts others such that they will no longer read Hebrew scripture, it is suggested that such texts not be read.

But the text is just as pertinent today as it was thousands of years ago.  In our lifetimes, no matter which generation we are from, everyone here has been alive during a War that has been fought by a group of countries and peoples against a supposed or legitimate threat to others in the world.  Since 1900 Canada has been at war: the Boer War, WWI, WWII, Korea, Persian Gulf, the present War in Afghanistan.

As a nation, as church communities, as individuals: soldiers, families left at home, or citizens electing public officials -at some point, somewhere, at sometime – questions come to the surface.  Most of the time we try not to think about it, or there is so much to grapple with we turn ourselves off.  We take time to remember the dead, the causalities of war – at remembrance services there are prayers, hymns sung –or music played.  Have you listened to the words of said prayers, said hymns? 

The questions are there.  Is God on our side –the good side, the right side; the side of the faithful?  And who is the right-side, the good side, the faithful –if both sides worship the same God?  On both sides of every war, there are the soldiers’ prayers in the trenches, the peoples’ prayers for their loved ones to come home, prayers for peace, for safety, for land to call their own.  Whose side is God going to take?  Which prayers get answered, whose don’t?

These are the questions that the writer of Judges is wrestling with and what we read is the author’s reflection of where God is and how God is involved.  In the archaeological record, for descriptions of battles from the book of Kings, there are literary records from the other side of the story...and guess what, the other side painted the picture as if their god had given them the victory.  Curious isn’t it?

There is something very important in this text that often gets missed.  Amidst the darkness, chaos, and human propensity to dwell on violence, there is a glimmer of hope and Good News.

This is the time of the judges. In this passage, Deborah is mentioned –a wife, prophetess, judge.  The idea was that there was a different way:  a way that didn’t involve kings, but rather chosen judges who arbitrated disputes in a relational way; there was a different way based on the lessons learned in the desert –lessons that were altruistic and compelled human beings to live beyond the shortcomings of human nature.  A different way was offered, but human nature was sucked into being human, being part of a world that found and still finds it easier to fall into darkness, than fight to keep God’s vision alive –a vision of life, hope, light.

In Thessalonians we hear the words: “There is peace and security, then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labour pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape!” –a very human description and interpretation of the darkness and chaos to be found in the world.  There is a play back and forth by the writer of the letter between light and darkness; reminding the community that God’s vision is alive –life, hope, light –but only when God’s people purposefully choose to hold on to being the children of the light and believe their purpose is to share in the renewal of the earth and humanity by dispelling darkness.  That means taking responsibility to live a different way.

Using the image from the letter to the Thessalonians, perhaps Christians are currently drunk, not sober, because we are forever being sucked into darkness quicker all the time: drunk by darkness -dabbling in the watching, sharing, gaming, and perpetrating violence; giving up trying to be a light to others because it is too hard with too much red tape and disagreeable sorts to squish ambitions and visions of a different way; darkness enveloping as we succumb to materialism, the attitude of scarcity, the fear of taking risks.  We do good for ourselves, perhaps for others –but would never dare to say “I do this because God loves me –so I love others” –bringing God’s hope, light, life, promise verbally to the stage to confront human nature and the darkness that has cast a heavy shadow on the people of the world.

We have been given an answer to speak to the world, an answer that can abate the darkness –but it is not an easy prescription to sell; in fact many will not want to take it –because it is risky, with all kinds of side effects –good side effects, but ones that will induce pain, uncertainty, even fear.

The cure, God’s given prescription is “Abundance”

You may be asking yourself where this idea came from; where do I see that in the texts from today?  It is right there in the Gospel reading.  Have you heard about the master from the parable – the generosity shown, given, the abundance of the gift?

The slave that was given the least was given one talent.  A talent is 6000 denarii.  One denari is a day’s wage. That is 6000 day’s worth of wage – 16 years.

I heard this week a Jewish interpretation of the fall of Adam and Eve in the garden: the sin of Adam and Eve was not in the breaking of God’s command by eating of the forbidden fruit or the abundance of the garden, the sin was found in the blaming of another; when confronted Adam blamed Eve, Eve blamed the snake – there would have been no sin if responsibility had been taken for the disobedience.

How often do we blame, rather than take responsibility?  All the time this sin is grown, the spiral of darkness is deepened – the government is to blame for a host of issues, -poverty, the economy, pollution –you name it all because of the improper use of tax dollars; school boards and systems are blamed for dismal literacy rates; society is blamed for racism; war is blamed on religion or someone else’s foreign policy;  I’m grouchy this morning because someone who-shall-not-be-named peed in my cereal;  Please!  When will Christian’s wake up from their slumber and take responsibility.  When will we take the prescription of abundance and start tackling the world’s problems for real, no excuses.  

I also heard this week that according to Jewish law it was forbidden to invest if there was a fixed rate of return on the money. So, it would have been against the law for the slave who received the least talent to have taken it to a bank to collect interest.  I wonder if Jesus’ parable is commenting that it would be better to have broken the law than to do nothing with the abundance God had given.  Curious isn’t it?

Do you live from the attitude of abundance?

Walter Brueggemann, Professor emeritus of OT at Columbia Theological Seminary, Georgia, explained the phenomenon as, the Liturgy of abundance and generosity against the prevailing creed and belief of scarcity found in NA society.  Walter paints a beautiful picture of the story of abundance:  a song, a liturgy that moves through scripture. The liturgy begins in Genesis with the creation of the world, where everything is good, where “it is good” is repeated over and over, in abundance.  Reference was made to the Psalms of praise of God’s magnificence, of blessing, of life moments full of promise.  The liturgy continued through the lives of Noah, Abraham and Sarah; the people finding abundance in the desert –manna, quail, water, relationship- ; the people finding a land full of abundance –grapes, water, grain, vast spaces -; the abundance found in a stable in Bethlehem –a night when God became incarnate; the abundance of a few fish and a few loaves of bread –that fed thousands; the abundance found in the early Christian community that was being harshly persecuted.

The liturgy of abundance gets overshadowed with the passages like the one from Judges we read today.  We see  the prevailing creed and belief of scarcity: there is not enough land that all people can live in it and share its bounty, there is fear that “the other” will take too much or use it foolishly; blame is laid before a new way is even tried.

From week to week the sermons preached are not all that different from one another. Today is yet another reminder to risk living a new way –take the risk –stop passing blame and accept responsibility – forget becoming drunk by darkness and live light, live love, dance the liturgy of abundance.

You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.” — G. K. Chesterton

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” — Albert Einstein

Can you see the holiness in those things you take for granted–a paved road or a washing machine? If you concentrate on finding what is good in every situation, you will discover that your life will suddenly be filled with gratitude, a feeling that nurtures the soul.” — Rabbi Harold Kushner

“

And finally:

Both abundance and lack exist simultaneously in our lives, as parallel realities. It is always our conscious choice which secret garden we will tend… when we choose not to focus on what is missing from our lives but are grateful for the abundance that’s present —  — the wasteland of illusion falls away and we experience Heaven on earth.” –Sarah Ban Breathnach

Imagine Nov. 8th!

Grace in:
Sunshine and 15 degrees
Squash soup and bagels with awesome smoked gouda
A super bright moon
Trying a new flavoured Rooibos tea
Watching TV with my hubby

LIFE is GOOD. :)

Reformation from A Woman's Point of View: Katie Luther

I remember it well.  The smell of herring, mixed with a nervous tension; the rough wood- choking in the smell, as the barrel thumped up and down with the wagon.  This awful moment gave way to the resurrection of my life.

Oh but look at that, I have gotten ahead of myself haven’t  I.  I am Katharina von Bora, affectionately known as Katie Luther; Martin Luther’s wife.

Yes it is true, dear Martin and I had 6 children, raising 4 into adulthood: Hans studied law and became a court advisor, our son Martin a pastor, Paul a well known physician, and Margarethe married into a wealthy Prussian family.  They have done very well for themselves and honoured the family name, following in a tradition of a people who were thinkers, who loved and respected education.

The Martin Luther you know so much about, called me “my lord Katie”.  Not that I was Lord, for there is only one Lord.  I guess he just appreciated the nursing I gave him over the years, he was not a well man.  He left the managing of the household to me, and some household it was! –kids, Martin, large numbers of guests including at times 30 students and visiting scholars, despite limited funds.  Sometimes I wondered if it could all be done; somewhere there was strength, and early early mornings, late evenings; the vegetables were grown, the orchard tended, the cattle and chickens fed, the fishpond kept, the animals butchered at my hand, and I ensured the beer was brewed.  But no greater job gave me more pleasure than to free my Martin’s mind from teaching, writing and pastoring. This was my gift to Martin for what he did for me, for the church, for the hope given to the people of the time.  Ahhh, that man, “lord” what a nick-name to give one’s wife–the only lord here was God working through us;   but you can’t tell a stubborn man anything.  He wrote about the Lord being Lord, and the pope not being the lord; but when it came to pet nick-names...

Did you know I was only eighteen when Martin Luther issued his now famous 95 theses from Wittenberg?  I can just see him stomping up to the Palace Church door in his academic gowns and tacking his painstakingly thought out Latin document to the wooden door.  As a scholar he was convinced that God was speaking a different word from the Bible than that which was being taught by the church –that was him always thinking, wanting debate, discussion.  He loved the church; he loved study; he loved the combination of the two. And even better he was a teacher at heart who taught others what God was opening to him.

I wasn’t in Wittenburg on that day, Oct.31, 1517.  I was in a convent where I had lived since I was three years old.  You see my mother had died and my father did not have the means to support me, so I went to a convent school and later took vows in the cloister where my dad’s sister, my aunt, Magdelena lived.

At the cloister we caught wind of what was happening in the outside world and it was exciting so different from the daily regimented order we followed.  We heard of Luther’s biblical teachings, opening the Bible to new understandings, letting the German people hear the word in their own language.  Imagine, hearing a Gospel story and being able to tell it to a child as you put them to bed, or recite a Psalm in our mother tongue when sitting with someone in the infirmary.   Needless to say the world was changing; Christendom was transforming.  There were 11 of us nuns who were quite keen and wanted to join this Dr. Martin.  We believed the principles he taught.  We saw the falsehood of paying for the remission of sin, when through Christ sin had already been removed.  It was time to join the reformation, to leave the cloister and soak up this renewed knowledge of God, of Christ, of being part of a priesthood of all believers.
As nuns we were limited in our ability to leave the cloister.  We had no money, and our families did not either –that’s why we were in the cloister –a carefree life of hard work; so there was food, and we learned nursing skills, herbal remedies; we could all cook, brew beer, grow vegetables; we knew animal husbandry and we knew how to read and write.  It was the education that helped us in our quest.  I wrote letter after letter to the wealthy, the noblemen, the district rulers –all in an attempt to find a benefactor who would speak on our behalf, and pay the price for our freedom.  No one answered our campaign –until believe it or not Martin heard of our plight through a letter we wrote directly to him.

He wasn’t just a man of words, he arranged with a merchant friend of his to help us escape.

Merchant Leonard Koppe.  We all knew him he often delivered herring to the convent, and one evening in 1523, after delivering fish to the kitchens; he bundled us up into the empty fish barrels and loaded us on his wagon.

It was stinky; like death in the depths of those tossing barrels –dark, nervous, praying we were. When the wagons stopped, there was a quiet as if the earth stood still; then the tops were pried off the barrels; sweet sweet air filled our lungs – I can’t imagine resurrection being any more beautiful.  We stepped out of the barrels into a new life. 

The realities were that as women we needed to be connected to someone who had means to look after us. Several of the nuns returned to their families; Luther helped find homes, husbands, or positions for the rest. After two years, all the nuns had been provided for except for me.  I wasn’t trying to be hard to get along with, I was courted by Hicronymus Baumgaertner from Wittenberg University but his parents thought better of the idea, and there was no way I was marrying Pastor Glatz –I simply refused.

But then, through the persuasion of friends and his father –as I was told later, Luther proposed to me himself, and I moved into the Augustinian monastery at Wittenberg given to Luther a few years before by the Elector. Gosh I did a lot of cleaning up in the monastery and someone had to bring order to Luther's daily life. Dear Martin, bless his heart – wrote to a friend, "There is a lot to get used to in the first year of marriage. One wakes up in the morning and finds a pair of pigtails on the pillow which were not there before."   The pigtails were the least of the changes.
Like I said, we had six children of our own, then we raised four orphan children.  Our house was a flurry of activity and the nights that the students and visiting professors filled our table with theology, debate, -God-talk were life forming, life giving events.  4 am mornings were no burden when I knew that later in the day Martin would encourage me in Bible study and he suggested passages for me to memorize.  I lived for those holy moments.   And it was this household that taught our children, guided our children, in fact guided a people.  Martin always said that marriage was a school for character; that family life trained Christians in the virtues of fortitude, patience, charity and humility.
There was something about those years.  I have to think that the excitement came through the Word.  It was in our very own hands.  It was shared.  It was alive.  It became part of who we were. It was part of our dinner time conversations, our walks in the woods, and mentioned in the market place. The Bible and God were no longer owned by the church; and we made a connection between Word for the head and Word for the heart.
My dear Martin died in 1546 and I had to leave our home: due to finances in some part, but quicker due to war.  Then I left Wittenberg to avoid the plague- going to Torgau.
For six years, I lived there in the hope of the Resurrection, until I could once again be with my dear Martin.  In those days, it was the word that comforted me.  I sang the hymns Luther and I sang with the children around our living room – a mighty fortress is our God, away in a manger.  I repeated his favourite Psalm, Psalm 146.

It has been said in your time that my last words were a great testament to my powerful faith in God –I saw my final words to not be about me at all  but were said to the glory of God; for the grace imparted to the church; for the gift of living and breathing scripture;  for the gift of Christ who stands for me before God.

I pray that my final words are words that you also can say every day and when at last your days come to an end your words and faith can say: my words;

 My faith is this:     "I shall cling to Christ as a burr clings to a coat." 

Amen.