God In a Box

For the past several weeks I have been reflecting on the theological issue of the centrality of Jesus Christ in our faith. When Jesus is central in a person’s theology and heart, then like the labyrinth, the path radiates and spirals inward toward the heart and outward toward the world. Journeying on this path provides growth and transformation. According to Caroline Adams, this journey continuously expands our vision of what is possible, stretching our souls, learning to see clearly and deeply, listening to our intuition, [and] taking courageous challenges at every step along the way (http://www.lessons4living.com/labyrinth.htm). On this journey believers become pilgrims who grow more and more into the likeness of Christ. Additionally, symbols become richer and more useful in our prayers as we begin to include the wisdom of those who call God by other names. This idea is the story of Pentecost, a story that takes us beyond our own borders to the fertile ground found in other nationalities, languages, and cultures.

To deliver his message effectively, Jesus used such symbols as sheep, fig trees, and lost coins. Not only our culture, but many world cultures are rich in symbols. As one of my friends says, “A Buddha [symbolically] reminds me to ‘choose peace’ which leads me directly to ‘the peace that passes all understanding’ and ‘Be still and know that I am God’.” Writing in the first century, Saint Paul said, “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Philippians 4:8, NIV).

Can we find Jesus present in places that are outside the four walls of the church? In his book, Christ of the Celts, J. Philip Newell describes the Celtic pattern of worship that included gathering around “high standing crosses in the context of earth, sea and sky. The emphasis was that the creation itself was the Sanctuary of God” (Newell 110). Besides the natural world, I find Christ present in the poetry and novels that I teach in my high school classroom. I find God present in the community that forms around the preparation and sharing of good food. I even find Christ present in principles I learn from philosophy and the practice of yoga.

Let me illustrate with an example. In the fall I had a student with whom I had several conflicts. During this time, The Center for Spiritual Development sponsored a retreat that included a presentation on Akido, a Japanese martial art. One of the principles of Akido is that when people are engaged in conflict there is wasted energy because the two parties are pushing hard against each other. Instead of engaging in the conflict, one should attempt to turn the opponent in the same direction. In Akido, this turning is done physically, but after hearing the presentation, I realized that I could end the conflict in my classroom by turning my student in the direction I wanted him to go. A few days later, I talked with my student, and it wasn’t long before other students in the classroom were commenting on how much more enjoyable class was since that particular student had stopped acting out. To put this scenario into a Christian context, one can remember the words of John of the Cross who said, "Where there is no love, put love, and there you will find love."

Being confident in one’s own standing with Christ allows a person to color outside the lines. Spiritual growth results from being challenged and provoked by new ideas—or even old ideas that have to be rediscovered. These ideas lead to connections and revelations that if grounded in prayer and discernment will always return us to the Trinity. With Carl Jung we can affirm, "Summoned or not, God is present.”
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Newell, J. Philip. Christ of the Celts: The Healing of Creation. San Franciso: Jossey-Bass, 2008.

Summer Reading

My summer break officially began today, and I promptly arose and marched outside to confront the army of weeds and nut-grass that has taken over my gardens. Armed with my weed-eater and a newly charged battery, I took out legions of unwanted growth that were choking my day lilies and irises. After about an hour of that work, I watered the plants on the front porch, visited the vegetable garden to find some zucchini and a few more green beans, then I came inside to fix a light breakfast and took it to the patio to enjoy the breeze and cool temperatures. The dogs spent the time with me by frolicking in the too high grass which my husband would get to later in the day.

Now it’s late afternoon. We’re having leftovers for dinner. My daughter and her fiancé were here for Sunday dinner yesterday, and there is plenty left for the two of us to eat tonight. I’ve been reading this afternoon, and I thought I’d share a few books that might be interesting to some of you for summer time reading. These three books have been meaningful to my journey, and I hope that they may feed you as well.

The first offering is Scarred by Struggle; Transformed by Hope by Joan Chittister, OSB. Joan is a fellow struggler in this life journey and in this book she shares her own journey and what she has learned from it. She says, “…[W]e have overlooked those things in life that are really the ground of our truest strengths: the possibility of conversion, the call to independent thinking, faith in the presence of companioning God, the courage to persist, surrender to the meanings of the moment, and a sense of limits that leads us to take our proper place in the human race.” Some of the chapters include “The Struggle of Change,” “The Gift of Conversion,” “ The Struggle of Isolation,” “The Struggle of Darkness,” “The Gift of Faith,” and “The Gift of Courage.” May your hope grow as you look at the struggles of life with Joan in this wonderful book.

A second book that I have found useful on my journey is Richard Rohr’s The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics See. This book is about being spiritually awake and is specifically for those who are interested in contemplative Christianity. At the same time, Rohr offers some excellent guidance in nondual leadership in the chapter, “What Every Good Leader Knows.” Rohr says, “When you are ready, you will know you are standing under the same waterfall of mercy as everybody else and receiving an undeserved radical grace, which gets to the root of everything. Without that underlying experience of God as both abyss and ground, it is almost impossible to live in the now; in the fullness of who I am, warts and all, and almost impossible to experience the Presence that, paradoxically, always fills the abyss and shakes the ground.” The great mystics of every tradition invite us to know better and Rohr shows us ways to do so.

Finally, J. Philip Newell’s book, Christ of the Celts: The Healing of Creation is simply beautiful. He takes us to Iona where he was warden for a time and also to New Mexico where he is now residing. Newell touches us with stories of Julian of Norwich, George Macleod, and Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. He speaks of the brokenness of our world, the discords in our communities and the struggles of the most important relationships of our lives. He also discusses how true union sets us free to be radically ourselves. He states, “It is in relationship that we find our wholeness, not in separation. For we are one.” If you are interested in healing—the healing of all creation—then this book is a must read.

So there are three books you might look into for summer reading. I’ll post more titles here from time to time, but these are a good start. If you read them, please return to this post and comment on your experience and what you received from them.