An un-rant after a full rant...

Yesterday I was filled with sadness:  sadness for my country, sadness for the world, sadness for my family, for the walking wounded in my church and sadness for my own soul.  And in true biblical fashion I chose to rant - sometimes we call that lament - but rant it was.  Ranting about empire and loss, confession, sin and all the rest including my/our complicity in the whole stinking mess.

Most of the time I'm ok with rants - or laments - as long as they're not too filled with self pity. There is nothing redemptive about a "pity party" - it just keeps me self-absorbed and addicted to my wound - and I already know that drill all too well (as do so many others, yes?) No, a rant has value if it takes me deeper into the aching sadness of my soul or the world.  Back in seminary, in one of my classes with the late Dorothee Soelle, we wrestled with the difference between anxiety and fear.  We looked at how Kierkegaard and Marx treated the subject as well as what Scripture suggested, too.

And the heart of our conclusions boiled down to this:  anxiety is unnamed fear - and as long as it is unnamed, it cannot be explored or grasped or challenged.  We have to put a name to our pain - and that is what a healthy and creative rant does.  It gives shape and form to the source of our wounds so that we might address them in reality.  Sometimes that means conquering them, sometimes it involves acceptance at the deepest level and sometimes it means sharing them so that compassion might ease the burden. 

There were two key Biblical text for me in that class that have continued to help shape my rants. The first comes is found in Matthew's gospel in the sixth chapter:

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?  And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life?  And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.  

But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O men of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?'  For the Gentiles seek all these things; and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well. "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day.  

The second from Ecclesiastes chapter three:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.

Both remind me that there is a time and place - a purpose even - to rants and laments; they are not the final truth but they can be valuable in getting to the source of our wound.  Anxiety traps us and keeps us stuck; naming our fear can be liberating.

Today, however, perhaps because of the lament, my heart and mind is more open to life in balance with the wounds.  And as part of that balancing act, two of my favorite on-line elders of wisdom - Richard Rohr and Anthony Robinson - had these words to share.

Leonard Cohen’s song, “Anthem,” states in  the refrain: “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”  That is a much more poetic way of naming what we unfortunately called “original  sin”—a poor choice of words because the word sin implies fault and  culpability, and that is precisely not the point! Original sin was trying to  warn us that the flaw at the heart of all reality is nothing we did  personally, but that there is simply “a crack in everything” and so we should  not be surprised when it shows itself in us or in everything else.

The deep intuitions of most church  doctrines are invariably profound and correct, but they are often expressed in  mechanical and limited language that everybody stumbles over, denies, or  fights. Hold on for a while till you get to the real meaning. That allows you  to creatively critique things—without becoming oppositional, hateful, arrogant,  and bitter yourself. Some call this “appreciative inquiry” and it has an  entirely different tone that does not invite or create “an equal and opposite  reaction.” The opposite of contemplation is not action; it is  reaction. Much of the inconsistent ethic of life, in my opinion, is  based on ideological reactions and groupthink, not humble discernment of  “how the light gets in.” Think about that for a while.

We are all complicit in and benefit from  what Dorothy Day called “the dirty rotten system.” That’s not condemning  anybody; it’s condemning everybody because we are all complicit and enjoying  the fruits of domination and injustice. (Where were your shirts and underwear  made?) Usually the only way to be really non-complicit in the system is to  choose to live a very simple life. That’s the only way out! 

Thus most of the great wisdom teachers  like Gandhi, Saints Francis and Clare, Simone Weil, Dorothy Day, Jesus and  Buddha—lived voluntarily simple lives. That’s almost the only way to stop  bending the knee before the system. This is a truly transfigured life in  cultures which are always based on climbing, consumption, and competition (1 John 2:15-17).

Once we idealize social climbing,  domination of others, status symbols, power, prestige, and possessions,  we are part of a never-ending game that is almost impossible to escape. It  has its own inner logic that is self-maintaining, self-perpetuating, and self-congratulating,  as well as elitist and exclusionary. It will never create a just or  happy world, yet most Christians never call it into question. Jesus came to  free us from this lie, which will never make us happy anyway, because it’s  never enough, and we never completely win. Transfiguration is just another word  for utter transformation.  (Richard Rohr)

I hear Fr. Rohr reminding me that moving towards simplicity is one of the solutions to the greed and sin of our age.  I think he is also saying that because we are all complicit, we must move forward tenderly and with grace so that we don't deepen the wounds.  Brother Robinson amplifies this insight with his call to play - something that I have been exploring ever since articulating a 'spirituality of rock and roll' based upon Harvey Cox's little book,  Feast of Fools.Using Psalm 105, Robinson writes:

"Give thanks to Yahweh, call [God's] name aloud, proclaim [God's] deeds to the peoples! Sing to [God], play to [God}, tell over God's marvels!" (Jerusalem Bible)

As it happens today is my birthday, so I figure that today's Scriptures might have a special word for me. I think I found it in today's psalm, second verse: "play to the Lord."Imagine that: "play to God."

I confess, most of the time work comes easier to me than play. But if Jaco Hamman in his wonderful book, A Play-Full Life (new from The Pilgrim Press) is right, even that standard contrast of work and play is misleading.

Hamman says that play "helps us to manage our destructiveness and rejuvenates the mind, much like deep sleep does." But he also notes that in our culture play has been co-opted by other industries, such as the gambling industry, where one "plays the slots" and the sex industry, which offers "playmates." Moreover, increasingly play costs money, becoming another consumer good.  What does the psalmist mean by enjoining "play to God"?

"Play to the Lord" means not letting worry and fear consume us. It means living life to the full, even amid adversity. It could mean resisting the many ways the world has developed to render people anxious, fearful, hopeless and violent. It might mean letting go and letting God.  Play to the Lord. Try it today. I will.

Prayer:  For bird-watching, listening to music, a bike ride on a country lane, a meal with friends, a walk with my wife, a hike with one of my sons, and standing in the river at dusk casting a fishing line, I thank you, good and play-full God. Amen. (Tony Robinson)

Here is yet another upside-down antidote for those open to living as fools for Christ. I am grateful: for the rants, for the play, for the wisdom and for the healing of God's grace.