While on an extended sabbatical in Montreal three years ago, I began to write and research a subject dear to my heart: a spirituality of tenderness. Looking at the holy texts of my tradition reinforced my longing. Tenderness and fidelity, you see, are at the heart of authentic living - yet both are in short supply in our ginned-up, psyched-out, 24/7 culture. The more I read and prayed in Montreal, the more I realized that nourishing tenderness in all its incarnations has been at the core of my calling since 1968. Sadly, I am a slow learner, just now starting to take God's gracious invitation seriously with conscious choices for my life.
In the early days of research one of the names that kept popping up was Jean Vanier. (NOTE: last month, while sorting out papers from my nearly 40 years of pastoral ministry, I came across a note from my spiritual director in Cleveland, OH encouraging me to check out Jean Vanier. Yet more evidence of my slow uptake!) The more of Vanier's writing I took in, the more I felt drawn to L'Arche. Eventually I visited one of their communities in Ottawa where I am now a volunteer. It has become my new spiritual home. In his masterwork, Community and Growth, Vanier wrote:
The Hebrew word 'Hesed' expresses two things: fidelity and tenderness. In our civilization we can be tender but unfaithful, and faithful without tenderness. Our world is waiting for communities of tenderness and fidelity. They are coming.
Recently Fr. Richard Rohr wrote that fidelity and tenderness form the essence of the Jewish prophetic tradition. Quoting another master, Walter Breuggemann, he observed that despite adversity, fear and oppression, the testimony of the ancient prophets points to the centrality of tenderness in prophetic spirituality. In a short quote from the book of Exodus, followed by the interpretation of Brueggemann, Rohr states:
"YHWH, YHWH, a God of tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and abounding in faithfulness. For the thousandth generation, YHWH maintains kindness, forgiving all your faults, transgressions, and sins." (Exodus 34:6-7) (This is)“a formulation so studied that it may be reckoned to be something of a classic, normative statement to which Israel regularly returned, meriting the label ‘credo.’” [1] In it are found five generous and glorious adjectives that describe the heart and soul of Jewish belief. Somehow, against all odds and neighbors, the children of Israel were able to experience a God who was merciful (in Hebrew, rhm), compassionate/gracious (hnn), steadfast in love (hsd), tenaciously faithful (‘emeth) and forgiving (ns’). This is the dynamic center of their entire belief system, as it should be ours and, like all spiritual mystery, seems to be endlessly generative and fruitful, culminating in the full-blown—and literally unthinkable—concept of grace.
Looking backwards I can see that intentionally but more often accidentally, in moments of clarity as well as numerous times of pure grace, tenderness has been what my heart yearns for. In another Vanier quote, some earthy practicalities are added to these lofty ideals that warrant inclusion if balance is to prevail. Remember, he writes:
The ideal doesn't exist. The personal equilibrium and the harmony people dream of come only after years and years of struggle, and them only as flashes of grace and peace. Peace is the fruit of love and service to others. I'd like to tell the people in communities, "Stop looking for peace. Give yourselves where you are. Stop looking at yourselves, look instead at your brothers and sisters in need. Ask how you can better love your brothers and sisters. Then you will find peace."
Lord may it be so for me this day.
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