a spirituality of l'arche - part five

NOTE: I thought I would finish this series up earlier this week but on my way to some commitments, as John Lennon used to say, life happened. So here is what will be the part five of six. Thanks for your interest and support.

"Thinking can only take you so far," writes Karen Armstrong. "Action, behavior, especially compassionate behavior, is more important than thinking. By constantly exercising compassion, the golden rule, you enter a different state of consciousness. This, rather than (only engaging the mind), will get you to enlightenment." Such is the essence of mystical wisdom. Douglas John Hall, a Reformed theologian from McGill University in Montreal, wrote that at the core of every spiritual tradition is a version of this truth: we don't think our way into a new way of living, we live our way into a new way of thinking. In the realm of Christianity, we put it like this:

Jesus says in his society there is a new way for people to live: you show wisdom by trusting people; you handle leadership by serving; you handle offenders by forgiving; you handle money by sharing; you handle enemies by loving; and you handle violence by suffering. In fact, you have a new attitude toward everything and everybody. Toward nature, toward the state in which you happen to live, toward women (and men), toward the wounded and toward every single thing that has been created. Because this is the Jesus society and  you repent not by feeling bad, but by thinking different. (Rudy Wiebe, The Blue Mountains of China, pp. 215-16)

And the way to think differently is to practice living in a new way. In the 12 Step movement, we say: if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got. So... fake it (practice and do it) till you make it! This is what I experience every time I visit my friends at L'Arche Ottawa. They are living a new way. The way of the tender and open heart. We know full well that we will stumble and fall at least as often as we run, walk or dance. But the spirituality of L'Arche teaches that even our brokenness can become a blessing in pursuit of compassion. Especially our brokenness. This is how we become more like Jesus - failing and then learning from our mistakes by opening our hearts to God when we are weak - is how we "pick up our lives and walk." 

In the Eastern Church, this is called divinization (or theosis). The first century church father, St. Ireneaus, taught that the One who is Holy created us in the beginning as incomplete on purpose. As we travel through life, inevitably we will make mistakes; we will hurt one another and ourselves, encounter sin (living in separation from God), and lose our sense of purpose. In the West, St. Augustine and then the Protestant Reformers like Calvin and Luther emphasized these failings as willful acts of disobedience and human depravity. St. Ireneaus, however, believed that even these failings were part of God's desire to lead us onto the path of compassion. By naming our wounds, confessing them, accepting forgiveness in grace, and then wrestling with our brokenness in community as well as in our hearts, our lives could be healed incrementally. We can start to live more and more in the presence and spirit of Jesus. The practice of divinization insists that as the Word of God became flesh once in Jesus, so can the Word of God already within us ripen and mature. Over time, our life-long creation into the image of God takes shape and form through our actions, habits, thoughts and words. The Westminster Dictionary of Christian Theology puts it like this:

Deification (Greek theosis or divinization) is for Orthodoxy the goal of

every Christian. Man, according to the Bible, is 'made in the image and likeness of God.'. . . It is possible for man to become like God, to become deified, to become god-like by grace. This doctrine is based on many passages of both OT and NT (e.g. Ps. 82 (81).6; II Peter 1.4), and it is essentially the teaching both of St Paul, though he tends to use the language of filial adoption (cf. Rom. 8.9—17; Gal. 4.5—7), and the Fourth Gospel (cf. 17.21—23).

The language of II Peter is taken up by St Irenaeus, in his famous phrase, 'if the Word has been made man, it is so that men may be made gods' (Adv. Haer V, Pref.), and becomes the standard in Greek theology. In the fourth century, St. Athanasius repeats Irenaeus almost word for word, and in the fifth century St Cyril of Alexandria says that we shall become sons 'by participation' (Greek methexis). Deification is the central idea in the spirituality of St. Maximus the Confessor, for whom the doctrine is the corollary of the Incarnation: 'Deification, briefly, is the encompassing and fulfillment of all times and ages,' . . . and St. Symeon the New Theologian at the end of the tenth century writes, 'He who is God by nature converses with those whom he has made gods by grace, as a friend converses with his friends, face to face.' 
(see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apotheosis)

Jean Vanier uses different words than the Eastern Church, but clearly he speaks the same language: our spiritual transformation takes place through practice. - especially learning the wisdom of our wounds. Our bodies are key to embracing "the mystery of trusting a God who walks with us." In this closing reflection, I will consider the two final chapters of The Heart of L'Arche: A Spirituality for Every Day.

In his primer of spiritual formation within the L'Arche community, Jean Vanier writes: "I realized that to become a friend to people in need, I needed to pray and work on myself with the help of the Holy Spirit, and with good human and spiritual accompaniment - people who would walk with me and share my life. I had to learn to accept myself without illusions. I had to discover how to forgive and discover my own need for forgiveness. Little by little, the weak and the powerless helped me to accept my own poverty, become more fully human and grow in inner wholeness." (p. 35)

Vanier offers three touchstones for evaluating our fidelity to the call of L'Arche and God's invitation to become more fully human: 1) listening and responding with love to the cries of the disabled and wounded who disturb us; 2) constantly caring for the total health of our community; and 3) trusting Providence.

People with intellectual disabilities know how to disturb us.  They call us to pay attention and be real. We must quit going through the motions of paying attention and become fully present. They call us out when they hurt or are in need. We must make connections so that we can use our time and our resources for love rather than merely our own comfort. And they upset our bourgeois sense of propriety. 

Jesus called his disciples to humility and littleness. He called them to become like small children, not to seek to prove that they were in the right and that others were wrong. He called them to be with the poor, those without a voice, and through them to live in communion with him, just as he lived in communion with the Father. Pride destroys community; humility helps to build it up. Humility means seeing in the beauty of others the gift of God; it means recognizing the darkness in ourselves, the self-satisfaction behind our good deeds, our longing to make first place. It means recognizing that we need Jesus to free us from this pride that is inside us all. (p. 62)

Henri Nouwen once wrote - and later learned from the inside out - that "Nobody in life escapes being wounded."

We are all wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. The main question is not 'How can we hide our wounds?' so we don't have to be embarrassed but 'How can we put our woundedness in the service of others?' When our wounds cease to be a source of shame and become a source of healing, we have become wounded healers. (With Open Hands)

They also disturb us by challenging us not to give up the prophetic mission of L'Arche. To capitulate to an institutional model that offers salaries but does not ask for fidelity of the heart would disconnect us from the call of God. This is a counter-cultural fact. Staying poor, Vanier argues, keeps us dependent upon the Father's will, the disturbing presence of those with intellectual disabilities as well as the well-being of the whole community.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!  And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well. Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. (Luke 12: 22-32)

The poverty of L'Arche is essential so that we cast all our trust upon God. Vanier concludes chapter four like this:

At the beginning (of L'Arche), I thought we were short of assistants because L'Arche was a young, little known organization. Now I believe that the shortage of assistants is an essential part of our life. It worries and wearies us, built forces us to be open and constantly welcoming. A community that welcomes poor people will always be poor. We would love to have plenty of perfect assistants. We would love to be in a position of security. But it will never be like that. Our weakness is like that of the people of Israel to live and survive, we need not only love and faith, but also a kind of poverty that keeps us dependent upon God. Only be being like children, dependent on the Father's love, waiting for God to give us all we need, will we be able to carry on with our journey. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God. (p. 73)

The disturbing cries of the wounded among us keep us connected to the mystery of the God who walk among us.