Introduction
For some reason of
late I have been reading a LOT of essays:
not the fluffy distractions that can capture your eye while waiting in
line to check out at the grocery store; but rather meaty, thought-provoking and
concise dissertations on art and culture, imagination and politics, the role of
generative, embodied creativity versus the ubiquitous snarky cynicism that passes
for wisdom in our overly stressed and broken society.
+ Don’t get me wrong, I am just as interested as
the next person in whether or not Lindsay Lohan is headed back to prison in
cuffs and chains. And the feud between
Justin Timberlake and Kayne West? Get
outta town – that’s hot stuff, too! And
does anybody really know what’s going on with Justin Beiber? I mean showing up for his London concert 50
minutes late: what’s up with that?
+ Maybe this essay craze has something to do with
the fact that I quit watching cable news for Lent. Without the presence and sound of O’Reilly,
Matthews, Maddow, Anderson Cooper and
Piers Morgan in my head I’m more inclined to want to spend quiet time with
people like Mako Fujimura, Marilynne Robinson, Annie Dillard, Walter
Brueggemann, Gregory Wolfe and Douglas
John Hall.
I guess what I’m
trying to say is I don’t know exactly why my mind has taken me in this
direction every night – my preferred bed time reading has always been New
Yorker cartoons or British mysteries – but as one wise soul said, “when the
student is ready, the Buddha will appear,” so there you are. Given all of that I would like to share with
you three quotes that have continued to percolate in my soul long after
consumption for they shed a measure of light on today’s gospel challenge in a
unique way.
Insights
First, from United Church of Christ pastor and celebrated scholar
of the Older Testament, Walter Breuggemann, who notes that when a culture is
wounded and a society confused – when ordinary people are exasperated and an
increasing number of citizens look towards suicide as a solution to their angst
– God’s people have a special role to play.
We need to ask not whether (an
alternative to the status quo) is realistic or practical or viable, but whether
it is imaginable. We need to ask if our consciousness and imagination have been
so assaulted and co-opted by the dominant (vision) that we have been robbed of
the courage or power to think an alternative thought. Imagination is a danger…
that’s why every totalitarian regime is frightened of the artist. It is the vocation of the prophetic poet to
keep alive the ministry of imagination, to keep on conjuring and proposing
alternative futures to the single one the king – or dictator – or CEO or even
President – wants to urge as the only thinkable one. And the characteristic way
of the prophet is that of poetry and lyric. (The Prophetic Imagination)
Are you still with
me? Did you hear what brother
Breuggemann is saying? In times like our
own the community of faith has been summoned by the Lord to be extravagant and
prophetic poets who keep alive the ministry of imagination. That’s what Isaiah was asked to do by the
Lord in his generation – keep alive the ministry of imagination – so he sang to
his people words we have recorded in our Bible like this.
Forget about what’s happened and don’t keep going over old history (like a broken record.) Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.
It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands. Wild animals will
say ‘Thank you!’—the coyotes and the buzzards together – because I provided
water in the desert, rivers through the sun-baked
earth, drinking water for the people I chose, the people I made especially for myself, a
people custom-made to praise me.
He’s
talking about creating refreshment – hope – an alternative vision from the dry,
parched and painful experience of the status quo. And the most important way of getting his
beloved albeit wounded sisters and brothers to notice and take heart is through
song: Isaiah keeps alive the ministry of
imagination by song and poetry, lyric and rhythm and a radically creative
engagement with the people he loves.
Sadly, writes Marilynne Robinson, ours has become an era shaped more by
a stagnant imagination than a prophetic and poetic extravagance – and there are
mean-spirited consequences to this reality.
She writes:
Austerity
is the big word through the West these days, with the implicit claim that
whatever the Austerity manager takes to be inessential is inessential…
and that whatever can be transformed from public wealth into private affluence
is suddenly an insupportable public burden and should and must be put on the
block. Everywhere the crisis of the
private financial system has been transformed into a tale of slovenly and
overweening government that perpetuates and is perpetuated by a dependent and
demanding population… so much so that not long ago I saw an emblematic bumper
sticker on a pick-up truck in my Iowa town that read: DON’T DISTRIBUTE MY WEALTH – DISTRIBUTE MY
WORK ETHIC… (and it hit me) the populace at large is thought of by a
significant part of this same population as a burden, a threat to their
well-being, to their values (not kin or fellow Americans) but a threat. (And part of the reason for this change) is
that there is currently a dearth of humane imagination for the integrity and
mystery of other lives. (When I
was a Child I Read Books)
A
dearth of humane imagination about the integrity and mystery of other people: if they don’t advance my needs or values, don’t
bring them refreshment in the desert or nourish the ties that bind with a cool
sip of water, dismiss them and demonize them so that THEY become part of the
problem – not our fear or greed or shame or despair – THEY become other – and
the other is always dangerous, bad and never to be trusted. Small wonder that one of our masters of the
ministry of imagination, the Apostle Paul, urged us to: Steer clear of the barking dogs, those
religious busybodies, all bark and no bite. All they’re interested in is
appearances—knife-happy circumcisers, I call them. The real believers are the ones the Spirit of God leads to work away
at this ministry, filling the air with Christ’s praise as we do it.
Driving over to our
Monday night class and discussion 2 weeks ago I happened to have the NPR show,
Market Place, on the radio. Kai Ryssdal,
the host, was talking with a business owner who noted that most of the college
graduates he interviews these days don’t know how to think creatively and are
terribly under-skilled when it comes to both problem solving and talking in
complete, clear sentences. As the show
progressed, two truths were revealed. First,
most of the young people being interviewed today for entry level positions have
NO background in the liberal arts – they don’t know poetry or music, film, art
or history – so all the college graduates that are hired by this entrepreneur
are required to take his own year-long supplemental course in history, art and
culture. It is the only way to deepen
their souls and make them creative employees.
And second, what are the college and high school level courses that are
the first to be cut in times of austerity:
art, music and all the liberal arts, yes?
While
for most of us there are indeed joys and laughter and moments of great
happiness, human life is also filled with sorrow and pain at every stage, from
childhood through to old age and death.
The excruciating struggle for survival, which is both physical and
spiritual, is often carried on by ordinary people quite silently, for,
especially in our rhetorically upbeat society there is a strong pressure on
individuals to seem content and in charge… but still one in for persons in our
comparatively affluent and healthy society is clinically depressed… and while
our frantic quest for entertainment continues… and our excessive interest in
food, sex and travel or anything allegedly new (distracts us for a time) all
such realities may be seen as substitutes for any profound or lasting sense of
purpose and vocation.
That is, we do not know how to talk about the profound emptiness
that is at the core of much of our modern American life. Visual artist and theologian, Mako Fujimura,
notes: “The world is not as it ought to
be. We long for meaningful existence and involvement in our culture – to be
part of a story greater than ourselves.
Often our reality is a broken and fragmented story in which
dignity and value are stripped from humanity. (Like the prophets of old, I have
found that) art can begin to address this dehumanization… (it can help us
travel from) the trivial to the transcendent, bringing synthesis to
fragmentation and hope to despair.” He adds that our
creativity, however, must be generative:
“A generative response will mean that we reflect deeply to cherish what
we love, and lament for what is lost. Art has a greater role to play today to
help grieve and attempt to capture the "groans that words cannot express” than
any time in the past 50 years.
Enter the mind-blowing
extravagance of today’s gospel that both defies a linear explanation while
giving us a vision of how we just might move from fear to trust by grace. This is a wild and sensual story about creativity
and incarnation – perfume and tears – a woman’s hair and the Messiah’s feet,
prelude to Christ’s own foot washing ceremony at the Last Supper next as well
as his Cross and so much more. Every
gospel contains a version of this story although each story teller changes some
of the details to help deepen the truth – so we need to pay attention.
In John’s retelling some
old friends return: Lazarus has been
resuscitated from the tomb of death after receiving the Lord’s tears of grief
and his family is now throwing a party for Jesus. His sisters Mary and Martha are co-hosts and
as is often the case, Martha takes care of the details – she serves the meal –
and becomes one model of discipleship in this story. Too often she is overlooked in our sermons
but we should celebrate her as the trusted and compassionate helper because the
world wouldn’t work without the gifts that Martha brings to the table. In a way, she is like the older son in the
story of the Prodigal from last week – she keeps things going – while everyone
else is caught up in themselves.
Her sister Mary, however,
has a different gift – not a better gift, just one that is different – for Mary
is spontaneous and passionate. She pours
expensive burial oil on Christ’s feet and then caresses them with her loose
hair. The fragrance of her perfume fills
the house and touches everyone who enters.
She is neither afraid of being extravagant nor concerned with explaining
herself: she simple shares love in a
bold way where it is needed the most.
+ And judging by the selfless passion of her love, Jesus was not only moved to call her the model of discipleship, but he mirrored Mary’s action before the last supper when he knelt to wash the feet of his own bewildered and quarrelsome disciples.
+ Do you see that connection? Mary responds to the Lord with gracious and extravagant love – not words, ideology or photo-ops – deep love and it moves Christ’s heart. So much so that when the Master wants to help the other disciples at the close of his life, he, too neither speaks nor explains but kneels and serves in an extravagantly beautiful way.
For me this story of extravagant love is
prophetic – especially given the call to refresh and renew our imaginations
that have been so assaulted and co-opted by the
dominant (vision of austerity) that we have been robbed of the courage or power
to think an alternative thought. Some
like to tell me that given the dominant vision of austerity that rules our day that this must become
a time for protest. And while I
think that is true, I remind them that not all protest or protestors look the
same. There are clearly some who have
been called to be bold in well-orchestrated public events. Others engage in the nitty-gritty of politics
and organizing.
And some others still who have been led
to the table to be both Martha and Mary for our generation – to sometimes serve and love in
quiet and constant ways so that others might enjoy the feast – and sometimes to
create such a thing of beauty filled with song and visual art and poetry that
its bold and extravagant grace keeps alive the ministry of imagination… and when
that happens the fragrance of the gospel fills the whole house.
No comments:
Post a Comment