Wednesday, July 7, 2010

And so the feast goes on...

As you may have noticed, I've been on another jag - one exploring how a grace-driven commitment shapes what I am starting to call a spirituality of the feast - it is a metaphor for how I am learning to "do" church. I've noted earlier that there is still a lot of tension in this model: it is all about the invitation and not so much about what happens after the feast is over. It is rooted in the present moment and a deep trust in God rather than striving after results or numbers.

And it is a whole lot more fun than other ways of "doing" church, although it is also highly misunderstood. My friend Steve and I were talking about this today at lunch. He reminded me of something he wrote a while back (check it out here: http://thenightseajourney.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-and-who-is-god.html) that contains this insight from Thomas Moore:

The name of God can be used to freeze our wonder, to make a comforting and useful idol, or it can be the opposite: a name that opens into continuing mystery. I learn from Islam to use the name carefully, from Judaism to use it rarely, and from my own experience to use it almost not at all. It makes sense to light a candle every time I call on God, just to remember that the name is holy and never means what I think it means.

For those reasons I use it much more in the privacy of my thoughts and devotions that in public. My reluctance to speak of God apparently leads some people to question my religiousness and my faith. Maybe that is a good thing because when people see your piety, it has probably already passed too far into form.

It is better to be on the cusp between religion and secularity than to fall into either category. For there is another paradox at work: the appearance of religiosity is often in inverse proportion to the quality of religious practice.

I think this is part of what I am discovering about a "spirituality of the feast" - this movement towards the holy in community - is always hovering somewhere in-between secularity and religion. What's more, to put this spiritual discipline into practice, takes both care and creativity so that it is gentle and able to move with the breeze. It is subtle and tender and fluid rather than overt, aggressive and didactic. Tomorrow I hope to post the four broad elements that I am thinking are a part of a "spirituality of the feast," including:

+ First there is inspiration: prior to creating a feast or even inviting your guests, there is an awareness - a calling into celebration and joy - that is always the guide, yes? "In the beginning, was the Word... and the Spirit blows where it will."

+ Second is the invitation: a discernment must take place about who to invite and why - to say nothing of how to share the invitation - and when. "Come unto me all ye who are tired and heavy laden and I will give you... rest."

+ Third is the preparation: buying and baking, roasting and basting - cleaning, decorating, savoring, watching and waiting - all before the first guest arrives. "And so he went into the desert for 40 days of fasting and prayer as prelude to announcing the kingdom of God..."

+ Fourth is the actual feast itself: from the music and initial welcome to the serving of the food and comfort of the guests: everything matters including the farewells and clean-up. "But when did we see thee, Lord, hungry and give thee bread... or naked and clothe thee... or lonely and visit thee? Whenever you did so unto one of the least of these my sisters and brothers you did so unto me..."

Well, my break for reflection today is over, there are more people to visit and a meeting to get ready for this evening. "So they committed themselves to the teaching of the apostles, the life together, the common meal and the prayers. Everyone around was in awe—all those wonders and signs done through the apostles! And all the believers lived in a wonderful harmony, holding everything in common. They sold whatever they owned and pooled their resources so that each person's need was met. They followed a daily discipline of worship in the Temple followed by meals at home, every meal a celebration, exuberant and joyful, as they praised God. People in general liked what they saw. Every day their number grew as God added those who were saved."

2 comments:

Peter said...

I wonder how Thomas Moore would balance spontaneous praise and thanksgiving(in which, presumably, you shout out to God, even silently, and thereby risk naming) and reverent rarity of use of the name?

Come to that, God, I think has no name: only a title.

In Judaism, God is often called HaShem, which means literally, The Name. Thoughts around 7 AM...

RJ said...

I don't know, my man, but I know that spontaneous praise and thanksgiving happens in my LOTS. Hmmmmm... something to explore in both my reading and thinking about Moore. Thanks.

an oblique sense of gratitude...

This year's journey into and through Lent has simultaneously been simple and complex: simple in that I haven't given much time or ...