Today is our marking of All Saints Day – a unique and profound anniversary in the Christian tradition – that always holds two truths in tension: the often agonizing grief
we feel upon losing a loved one to death, and, our commitment to journey with God through even our darkest grief so that in time our lives might bear something of the fruit of grace born through even our suffering. It is a tough commitment – neither easy nor automatic – and it is always fraught with detours and distractions.This morning’s readings expose precisely the complexity of this paradox: first we are told that on the Lord’s Holy Mountain all suffering and death will be banished; and then we are reminded that Jesus himself was overcome with grief and wept harsh, bitter tears over the death of his sweet friend Lazarus. Are you with me? Do you see the challenge our tradition asks us to embrace?
Sometimes St. Paul would say: by faith we are called to live trusting that everything can be turned towards good for those who love God – not that everything IS good because that would be a lie – but rather that everything CAN be used for good for those who love the Lord – even tragedy and loss – even bitterness and fear – even our hardest and most bitter tears. Look at Jesus:
• He wept for the loss of a dear and trusted friend Lazarus.
• He wept for the grief he knew in his own heart as well as in the souls of Mary and Martha.
• And he wept because while he trusted by faith that God’s presence would continue even in the darkness, it felt like God was absent and only tears can express such despair.
Do you see what I mean? This is a complicated commitment – a genuine paradox – that requires maturity and discipline before it
bears fruit. It is a truly adult spirituality that cannot be accomplished by children. I have come to rely on these words of St. Paul again and again as recorded in Ephesians chapter four as rephrased by Peterson in The Message:
Here is what you have to do… in all humility and discipline – not in fits and starts – or actions that lead nowhere… But as mature adults fully committed to the way of Christ… (You see, there can be) no prolonged infancies among us, please! The body of Christ cannot tolerate babes in the woods, small spiritual children who are an easy mark for impostors. No, God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and live into it in love – like Christ Jesus in everything… So please, I insist on this and the Lord backs me up, there shall be NO going along with the crowd – the status quo – the empty-headed, mindless ones… who have lost touch with both God and reality.
Like an old spiritual director of mine once said with a totally straight face: if you want to mature in the spiritual life of Jesus you can’t put whipped cream on bull… caca (she was actually more graphic but for the faint hearted I’ve tried to clean it up, ok?) This is adult spirituality – the real deal for people who live in the real world – so let me cut to the chase.
• There are spiritual tools and resources that are available to us to help us weep and still live by faith. You may recall if you’ve been here over the past three weeks that I have already given you two touchstones for entering the darkness and cultivating its wisdom, right?
• Do you recall the first two touchstones that we talked about? (By the way, I have put them all into a little booklet for those who are interested and you can pick it up after worship.) What did we say were the first two touchstones that our tradition tells us are important when entering and embracing the dark night?
First there is shock: everything feels like it is falling apart because it is! And the challenge of
the shock is to feel it. Don’t run away or medicate it – don’t deny or ignore it – just feel it. Let it push you into tears like Jesus – let it make you feel helpless and childlike – this may be the only way to begin trusting that there is something bigger – mysterious and God like – at work beyond your control.
So first we feel the shock and second we let it nourish or encourage our imagination. Remember when I asked you what creative movies, songs, plays, poems or books have spoken to your soul? Some told me of Dostoevsky – or Field of Dreams – or the poems of Emily Dickinson – or even the somber beauty of Brahms’s, Requiem. Thomas Moore has so rightly observed that: “Darkness and anguish stimulate our imaginations in unique ways so that we might finally see truths ordinarily overlooked.” And that is why spiritual masters of every tradition have encouraged us to jump into the arts when we are hurting: not only will we find new insights but we will learn how to use even the pain in creative and healing ways.
Now there are two other touchstones in addition to feeling the shock and feeding the imagination: One has to do with asking for the guidance and company of a spiritual friend to accompany you during the hard times, and, the other involves choosing to stay grounded in worship even when you want to stay away. You might say the first two touchstones are personal
and have to do with the inward journey, while the second are public – they take us beyond ourselves – and are grounded in the journey outward, ok?
You see, there is an unholy and dangerous lie that most of us have accepted and affirmed – often without really knowing it – that sounds something like this: God helps those who help themselves. Have you heard that before? It isn’t true – completely – and doesn’t even come from the Bible. Like I’ve said before, this is an aphorism from the St. Ben Franklyn – who was a wise old dude – but not a spiritual master.
And the fundamental problem with buying what Ben was selling is that it tends to drown out the authentic voice of God. If all we hear and know is that God helps those who help themselves, then we will forget that God’s true voice says, “Come unto me all ye who are tired and heavy laden and I will give you rest.”
If all we can hear is the command to tough it out in private all by ourselves we will become deaf to the Lord’s sweeter but more quiet song that says: “here on this mountain, God will banish the pall of doom hanging over all the people, the shadow of doom darkening all nations. Oh yes, God will banish this forever… for God will wipe the tears from every face, remove every sign of disgrace from his people wherever they are.” And nourish them wit
h grace from the inside out. (Isaiah 25: 8)
You won’t hear that promise outside of worship, my friends. It just isn’t a song that is celebrated in popular culture. The wisdom of our consumer society is if you work hard enough – and pay dearly enough – you can get everything you want and need. And if you don’t… you are a loser.
And that is why our tradition urges us to get back into worship even when we feel like staying all by ourselves: it is an antidote to the lie. It is a time-tested balm of healing that gently pushes us beyond our fears and limited vision. What’s more, worship saturates us with an alternative vision grounded in grace rather than judgment, hope not fear, blessing beyond the obvious suffering.
• What was the first thing we sang today? “One Voice,” right? A message of drawing strength from one another in love – and our second song – what was that? “For All the Saints” and its promise of rest and love beyond the suffering.
• Does anybody remember what we’re going to sing just as soon as I am done – no looking at your bulletin – o
r go ahead! “Holy, Holy, Holy” – the song tradition teaches the angels sing forever as a prayer for those of us on earth – encouragement and praise to the God who would not take death on the cross as the final answer.
Worship gives us an alternative vision – it trains us in seeing the bigger picture – where we are not the center of the universe. And when we are feeling tired, afraid or worn down by anguish – and we really just want to stay in bed and be by ourselves – hearts and souls far greater than ours remind us that that is precisely when we need worship the most.
Because, you see, if you get your behind into gear and just park yourself in a pew, then God’s grace in worship can begin to work on you like water smoothing a stone. The contemporary writer, Ann Lamott, tells the story of when she was at her worst: over the years she had become an alcoholic and if that wasn’t bad enough she also found herself knocked up and pregnant without any hope or desire of marrying the baby’s father. She was truly cruising in the valley of the shadow of death – and had no place to go.
So what she found herself doing – often totally blasted on cheap wine – is stumbling into the back pew of a little urban Presbyterian Church in the Bay Area where she sat and listened to the hymns. She always left before worship was over so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone – but she stayed for the songs. And almost always the songs made her cry – weep and heave like Jesus – songs like “Precious Lord… hold my hand” or “softly and tenderly Jesus is calling… come home, come home, ye who are weary come home.” She did this for years – sat and wept and then snuck away – until finally she was ready to see whether this alternative vision of hope amidst the despair was real. And now she is clean and sober and caring for that fatherless baby who has become a big, loving and smart mouthed adolescent – a little bit of divine irony – but Annie Lamott testifies to anyone who will listen that her healing BEGAN in worship: Amazing grace…
But she also tells us that worship led her to ask for help – and that’s the other touchstone – opening ourselves to the wisdom and assistance of a spiritual friend. Spiritual friends can help us realize that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel when it comes to the journey of our darkness. Others have been there before and have discerned how to make the best of it.
• Spiritual friends – anam cara in Gaelic which means soul companions – are wise folk who have been through the darkness and know how to keep going. They are wis
e folk who can listen and direct us – correct and share compassion with us, too, when we are bereft – because soul companions or spiritual friends have been called by God to be food for the journey.
• They know something about the paradox of being adult people of faith; they have spent time searching the darkness and are not afraid of it like children; they can take your hand when you feel alone and quietly assure you that this is not the end of the story.
How does that great hymn put it: “I will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh I’ll laugh with you; I will share your joys and sorrows til we’ve seen this journey through.” Soul companions are critical for the dark journey – and let me be clear about this: NOT everyone is qualified for this ministry.
Just because someone says they will journey with you does not mean you should let them, ok? Soul companions have experience – they have been tested and often trained – they have boundaries and perspective and are responding to a calling from God not a psychological need of their own. In a word, soul friends know how to carry you when you just can’t do it on your own and then get out of your way.
Perhaps you know the story of the woman from Pittsfield w
ho came out of Target into the parking lot of the mall only to find a big dent in the back of her car – and a note stuck under the windshield wiper. It said, “I have just smashed into the rear of your car. There is a whole crowd of people watching me. They think I am writing down my name and address. They are wrong.”
• Going through the motions does not make a spiritual companion. Outward appearance and deception don’t cut it either.
• No, soul companions are called by God and not everyone who cries, “Lord, Lord…”
Next week after worship I will be holding a conversation for those who would like to explore their calling as a spiritual friend or soul companion. We need such a ministry here – a small group of prayerful people committed to carrying another for a time and then getting out of the way – because a pastor can’t do it alone. The darkness is often too profound, but you have to believe me: it isn’t for everyone.
So, let the Spirit speak to you this week. Give that still small voice of the Living God within you a chance to be heard… and let’s see where this leads. For if we are growing in faith – and deepening in the paradoxical challenge of All Saints Day – some will be called to take the next step even if the path is still dark.
bears fruit. It is a truly adult spirituality that cannot be accomplished by children. I have come to rely on these words of St. Paul again and again as recorded in Ephesians chapter four as rephrased by Peterson in The Message:Here is what you have to do… in all humility and discipline – not in fits and starts – or actions that lead nowhere… But as mature adults fully committed to the way of Christ… (You see, there can be) no prolonged infancies among us, please! The body of Christ cannot tolerate babes in the woods, small spiritual children who are an easy mark for impostors. No, God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and live into it in love – like Christ Jesus in everything… So please, I insist on this and the Lord backs me up, there shall be NO going along with the crowd – the status quo – the empty-headed, mindless ones… who have lost touch with both God and reality.
Like an old spiritual director of mine once said with a totally straight face: if you want to mature in the spiritual life of Jesus you can’t put whipped cream on bull… caca (she was actually more graphic but for the faint hearted I’ve tried to clean it up, ok?) This is adult spirituality – the real deal for people who live in the real world – so let me cut to the chase.
• There are spiritual tools and resources that are available to us to help us weep and still live by faith. You may recall if you’ve been here over the past three weeks that I have already given you two touchstones for entering the darkness and cultivating its wisdom, right?
• Do you recall the first two touchstones that we talked about? (By the way, I have put them all into a little booklet for those who are interested and you can pick it up after worship.) What did we say were the first two touchstones that our tradition tells us are important when entering and embracing the dark night?
First there is shock: everything feels like it is falling apart because it is! And the challenge of
the shock is to feel it. Don’t run away or medicate it – don’t deny or ignore it – just feel it. Let it push you into tears like Jesus – let it make you feel helpless and childlike – this may be the only way to begin trusting that there is something bigger – mysterious and God like – at work beyond your control.So first we feel the shock and second we let it nourish or encourage our imagination. Remember when I asked you what creative movies, songs, plays, poems or books have spoken to your soul? Some told me of Dostoevsky – or Field of Dreams – or the poems of Emily Dickinson – or even the somber beauty of Brahms’s, Requiem. Thomas Moore has so rightly observed that: “Darkness and anguish stimulate our imaginations in unique ways so that we might finally see truths ordinarily overlooked.” And that is why spiritual masters of every tradition have encouraged us to jump into the arts when we are hurting: not only will we find new insights but we will learn how to use even the pain in creative and healing ways.
Now there are two other touchstones in addition to feeling the shock and feeding the imagination: One has to do with asking for the guidance and company of a spiritual friend to accompany you during the hard times, and, the other involves choosing to stay grounded in worship even when you want to stay away. You might say the first two touchstones are personal
and have to do with the inward journey, while the second are public – they take us beyond ourselves – and are grounded in the journey outward, ok?You see, there is an unholy and dangerous lie that most of us have accepted and affirmed – often without really knowing it – that sounds something like this: God helps those who help themselves. Have you heard that before? It isn’t true – completely – and doesn’t even come from the Bible. Like I’ve said before, this is an aphorism from the St. Ben Franklyn – who was a wise old dude – but not a spiritual master.
And the fundamental problem with buying what Ben was selling is that it tends to drown out the authentic voice of God. If all we hear and know is that God helps those who help themselves, then we will forget that God’s true voice says, “Come unto me all ye who are tired and heavy laden and I will give you rest.”
If all we can hear is the command to tough it out in private all by ourselves we will become deaf to the Lord’s sweeter but more quiet song that says: “here on this mountain, God will banish the pall of doom hanging over all the people, the shadow of doom darkening all nations. Oh yes, God will banish this forever… for God will wipe the tears from every face, remove every sign of disgrace from his people wherever they are.” And nourish them wit
h grace from the inside out. (Isaiah 25: 8)You won’t hear that promise outside of worship, my friends. It just isn’t a song that is celebrated in popular culture. The wisdom of our consumer society is if you work hard enough – and pay dearly enough – you can get everything you want and need. And if you don’t… you are a loser.
And that is why our tradition urges us to get back into worship even when we feel like staying all by ourselves: it is an antidote to the lie. It is a time-tested balm of healing that gently pushes us beyond our fears and limited vision. What’s more, worship saturates us with an alternative vision grounded in grace rather than judgment, hope not fear, blessing beyond the obvious suffering.
• What was the first thing we sang today? “One Voice,” right? A message of drawing strength from one another in love – and our second song – what was that? “For All the Saints” and its promise of rest and love beyond the suffering.
• Does anybody remember what we’re going to sing just as soon as I am done – no looking at your bulletin – o
r go ahead! “Holy, Holy, Holy” – the song tradition teaches the angels sing forever as a prayer for those of us on earth – encouragement and praise to the God who would not take death on the cross as the final answer.Worship gives us an alternative vision – it trains us in seeing the bigger picture – where we are not the center of the universe. And when we are feeling tired, afraid or worn down by anguish – and we really just want to stay in bed and be by ourselves – hearts and souls far greater than ours remind us that that is precisely when we need worship the most.
Because, you see, if you get your behind into gear and just park yourself in a pew, then God’s grace in worship can begin to work on you like water smoothing a stone. The contemporary writer, Ann Lamott, tells the story of when she was at her worst: over the years she had become an alcoholic and if that wasn’t bad enough she also found herself knocked up and pregnant without any hope or desire of marrying the baby’s father. She was truly cruising in the valley of the shadow of death – and had no place to go.
So what she found herself doing – often totally blasted on cheap wine – is stumbling into the back pew of a little urban Presbyterian Church in the Bay Area where she sat and listened to the hymns. She always left before worship was over so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone – but she stayed for the songs. And almost always the songs made her cry – weep and heave like Jesus – songs like “Precious Lord… hold my hand” or “softly and tenderly Jesus is calling… come home, come home, ye who are weary come home.” She did this for years – sat and wept and then snuck away – until finally she was ready to see whether this alternative vision of hope amidst the despair was real. And now she is clean and sober and caring for that fatherless baby who has become a big, loving and smart mouthed adolescent – a little bit of divine irony – but Annie Lamott testifies to anyone who will listen that her healing BEGAN in worship: Amazing grace…
But she also tells us that worship led her to ask for help – and that’s the other touchstone – opening ourselves to the wisdom and assistance of a spiritual friend. Spiritual friends can help us realize that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel when it comes to the journey of our darkness. Others have been there before and have discerned how to make the best of it.
• Spiritual friends – anam cara in Gaelic which means soul companions – are wise folk who have been through the darkness and know how to keep going. They are wis
e folk who can listen and direct us – correct and share compassion with us, too, when we are bereft – because soul companions or spiritual friends have been called by God to be food for the journey.• They know something about the paradox of being adult people of faith; they have spent time searching the darkness and are not afraid of it like children; they can take your hand when you feel alone and quietly assure you that this is not the end of the story.
How does that great hymn put it: “I will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh I’ll laugh with you; I will share your joys and sorrows til we’ve seen this journey through.” Soul companions are critical for the dark journey – and let me be clear about this: NOT everyone is qualified for this ministry.
Just because someone says they will journey with you does not mean you should let them, ok? Soul companions have experience – they have been tested and often trained – they have boundaries and perspective and are responding to a calling from God not a psychological need of their own. In a word, soul friends know how to carry you when you just can’t do it on your own and then get out of your way.
Perhaps you know the story of the woman from Pittsfield w
ho came out of Target into the parking lot of the mall only to find a big dent in the back of her car – and a note stuck under the windshield wiper. It said, “I have just smashed into the rear of your car. There is a whole crowd of people watching me. They think I am writing down my name and address. They are wrong.”• Going through the motions does not make a spiritual companion. Outward appearance and deception don’t cut it either.
• No, soul companions are called by God and not everyone who cries, “Lord, Lord…”
Next week after worship I will be holding a conversation for those who would like to explore their calling as a spiritual friend or soul companion. We need such a ministry here – a small group of prayerful people committed to carrying another for a time and then getting out of the way – because a pastor can’t do it alone. The darkness is often too profound, but you have to believe me: it isn’t for everyone.
So, let the Spirit speak to you this week. Give that still small voice of the Living God within you a chance to be heard… and let’s see where this leads. For if we are growing in faith – and deepening in the paradoxical challenge of All Saints Day – some will be called to take the next step even if the path is still dark.
2 comments:
"He or she who journeys in the spirit without a guide has a fool for a companion." I made it up--you can have it, RJ. Been there...
Me, too, my man... and it is hell. Thanks.
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