Many Roman Catholic and Christian woman are guilty of abortion. That’s right. Abortion.
They have been aborting some of the brightest intellects and some of the greatest artists, writers, musicians, some of the finest teachers, preachers and pray-ers. On the other hand, Christian women are excellent consumers. I have found the best handwringers in Christian circles. We’re great accusers, get high scores in “circling the wagons” when necessary. I have been sickened by what I call the princess-syndrome-this is where we are guarding young girls from exercising their minds in difficult situations (do we expect their prince to spring to their side?). But there are times we encourage their intellectual growth–but only to a point–once they’re grown they seem to have no more need for their brain. Exchange recipes, sweet deals, and travel/mission experiences. Serious theology, preaching, and serious talk is frowned upon; if you are serious about prayer and “deeper work within” — well, those are akin to “extra credit” and not a norm for every able-minded Christian. The most common excuse is our lack of time–then spend 2 hours watching a feel-good movie that makes us feel-good about our own mediocrity. We do have the time-we’re just copping out. Hard words? Perhaps. True words? Yes-the only thing we are to be baby-like in is in regard to evil (doing evil).
I will admit I was in denial about the Barbie-like attitude towards life Christian women had. But once the fog cleared from my brain, I stopped attending women’s conferences and buying women’s books at Christian book stores. Dumbing down a book or sermon might have broad appeal, but is it necessary? Doubly insulting is that both the writing and the content are dumbed down.
Here is a sample of something for “Christian women:”
“One of my favorite foods on earth is fresh, hot, homemade apple muffins. I make them occasionally when I have time and enjoy one with a fresh brewed pot of coffee. I take the muffin, the coffee, and the newspaper, and sit on my patio (sometimes with the neighborhood cats) relishing the beginning of a new day. All my senses are pleased. Complete satisfaction. ” – Luci Swindoll, I Married Adventure
If this were merely the beginning of a great book I wouldn’t include it, but it’s not. I would never recommend it for a Christian–or nonChristian, it’s like a chat with a nice, but slightly shallow friend (I am sure Ms Swindoll’s a lovely person). But my point remains: we do harm to ourselves by publishing, buying and recommending books. What’s the harm? Christian books of this type don’t sharpen my mind, they flatten it. I still have a spirit of inquiry, I desire discussion and exchange with the author. Our interests ought to be piqued not squelched nor distracted.
How does this connect with practical theology? Many Christian women go through the motions of missions, social justice, and fellowship. But, is it missing something: that is, do we do it with understanding? Have we read, reflected, and grasped our piece in the global setting, historical landscape of time, and the Spiritual Body of Christ?
Or, do we roll along, struggling, to be nice, hoping to please our neighbor most of the time now, and God in the end when our “good works” balance out our bad? If so, we don’t understand what it is to be a Christian.
I believe in, but also like the weightiness and succinctness of The Apostles Creed–and it ends this way: “I believe in the Holy Spirit; the holy catholic church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting. In our life the Holy Spirit at work now, and our life is in His Kingdom here and now; the church is universal–and let me skip to the point–what do you think you will be doing in your resurrected body? Eating fresh, hot muffins on your front porch?
Our Christian calling is for progress: for ourselves, each other and the world: Christ’s redemption in this world does not end in me: no, it begins. And each thing I do (or chose not to do), hidden or open, in private or in public, here and now, counts in eternity. Let’s do more–and demand more–from our Christian authors, screen writers and artists of all sorts.
On The Image of God:
“Those things which are said of God and other things are predicated neither univocally nor equivocally, but analogically… Accordingly, since we arrive at the knowledge of God from other things, the reality of the names predicated of God and other things is first in God according to His mode, but the meaning of the name is in Him afterwards. Wherefore He is said to be named from His effects.”
- Thomas Aquinas, Summa contra Gentiles
Poor, Ugly, Stupid People Might Be Happier Than You
Some drums need to be beaten over and over: gratefulness or thankfulness is one of those. Regret-driven, or envious people are never truly satisfied nor happy; but grateful people are.
You’ve probably heard people say, “We were poor when I was a child but I was happy” as if it’s a paradox. But it’s not a contradiction: One of the things we can remember to learn from children is that they take and give love (eagerly) where they find it—and material things mean little to them. Shakespeare recognized the misery of ignoring your own “wealth” when comparing yourself to others in this sonnet. I have placed a paraphrase below it (for another paraphrase you may view it at: http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/29.html
SONNET 29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
By William Shakespeare
Sonnet 29 (by William Shakespeare, paraphrased)
When left alone by both fortune and people’s favor
Then, Lonely Me gets depressed and cries—
And ask God, “Why not me?” or “Why!?”
as I look at myself, at my condition and at my luck.
I wish to be like those with a bright and certain future–
Or ravishing good looks, or with all those great friends.
I’m envious of other’s abilities, and jealous of their lifestyle.
Yet what I truly love in my life, I am most oblivious of.
When I’m in this spot, I hate myself.
But if by chance, I think of you, then my heart
is like a lark rising up at dawn’s daylight
from darkest earth, singing hymns at heaven’s gate;
For your sweet love, remembered such, wealth brings—
And then I wouldn’t change my life with kings.
What To Do With Power in an Open Universe
“The cross opens its arms to the four winds; it is a signpost for free travelers.” – GK Chesterton
Any number of beliefs on destiny, including materialism, are by nature centripetal in this respect: that they move towards a collapsing center. Buddhism, all will be extinguished; Jainism, Buddhism, Sikhism and Hinduism, for all the gods, has a great destiny in the extinguishment of nirvana, a blowing out. Atheism and agnosticism is materialism dressed in fine words: the endpoint of these is the grave.
Christianity moves centrifugally; outwards, expanding and extending. It’s not God’s way to extinguish His good works: He will to bring them to blossom–eventually–in a great symphony of blooms. At the center of Christianity is the Son of Man and the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who is the Fixed Point for all. Though God is limitless, yet He became a Son, demonstrating that He can do two opposite things at once: He can give men power to love Him without forcing Him to love Him. This becomes our starting point (and the engine, if you will) of loving all good things He has created.
“But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.” – John 1:12-13
It is only the strong who can give the power to the weaker. In this circumstance, that of being a Christian, God shifted the responsibility for power to us (He has that authority). At this moment, this evening, night, this afternoon: though all-powerful and all-knowing, He stooped (figuratively) to give us the dignity of apparent causality in “real time.” And He said, “No, it is your choice. If you wish to be my child, I want you to desire it.” (Little do we realize that desire to love becomes our greatest human asset.)
I like to freely interpret this verse, “Those who received him, He rushed over and crushed them to Him in the embrace of a loving parent; not because of who they were, or what they had done for him, but because He had been longing for this moment.”
And once you’re His, the world, the universe starts to open up: you’re imbued with a special sense for beauty, your sensitivities are heightened, your desire is finely tuned in to detect wonders, large and small. You begin to see the great plain of the world as waiting to be reworked–reworked to reflect His goodness, justice, mercy, and beauty.
“…whatever we may have to go through now is less than nothing compared with the magnificent future God has planned for us. The whole creation is on tiptoe to see the wonderful sight of the sons of God coming into their own. The world of creation cannot as yet see reality, not because it chooses to be blind, but because in God’s purpose it has been so limited—yet it has been given hope. And the hope is that in the end the whole of created life will be rescued from the tyranny of change and decay, and have its share in that magnificent liberty which can only belong to the children of God! It is plain to anyone with eyes to see that at the present time all created life groans in a sort of universal travail. And it is plain, too, that we who have a foretaste of the Spirit are in a state of painful tension, while we wait for that redemption of our bodies which will mean that at last we have realised our full sonship in him.” (JB Phillips New Testament of Romans 8:18-25)
Working for Change
I’ve been married for 35 years. When I was about 7 years into my marital life I read a helpful bit of advice which caused me to turn things around and to work more on myself. Dale Carnegie wrote that a woman wrote him “For years I have been wishing I had a new husband, then one day I realized perhaps he needed a new wife.”
When it comes to any kind of attitude change, it needs to happen in the will–and that is a hard place for most of us to go.
“Everybody thinks of changing humanity, but nobody thinks of changing himself.” – Leo Tolstoy
Change is not optional: it is necessary for the preservation of ourselves, or loved ones, our descendents. We cannot fall asleep at the switch, for there are no guarantees in the history of mankind–except without vigilance and work, we’re certain to end up in a society which is uncivil, immoral, corrupt and chaotic. None of us can “opt out” of our roles. When we were born, we were born into being members of a society: there is no absentee life, we are continually making things better or worse.
“…in sociologically and psychologically oriented age (we) have all kinds of explanations for the moral problems of man. But according to the Bible, it is not moral declension that causes doctrinal declension; it is just the opposite.” – Francis Schaeffer
An Alchemy Beyond A Recipe
Images, fragrances, flavors–they all have the power to attract or to repulse. The picture here is an original piece of stitched artwork done by a Catskill artist who was doing a theme on doors–I often imagine prayer as a kind of doorway. PR men used to wrangle with the difficulties of television because it could not be Smell-O-Vision: that is, they couldn’t bring the fragrances of meals into our homes.
An old friend of mine was a successful professional photographer in New York City. She told me a trade secret. She could not photograph real food and make it look tasty. To capture the savoriness of the real food, she had to employ props (fake food). I was surprised that anything as appetizing as a gourmet meal or garden-fresh produce had to be faked. But the failure was not in the food, but transmission of its essence by camera. After I learned this fact, I was sitting in the mental misty flats of wondering what was wrong with me for getting bored when people would talk about prayer. Then I realized that I was trying to draw a straight line between praying and garbled discussions of prayer. In doing so, my mistake was in linking my boredom of the discussion of prayer to me praying. Prayer wasn’t boring–but discussing it was.
Since then, I carry no guilt about being bored in conversations or sermons on prayer: I have drawn a clear line between description and experience. (Instruction on prayer is necessary, but that’s a different topic, altogether.) That the stellar effects of praying are not easily transmitted doesn’t spoil my joy of prayer. The effects, the fragrance-memories, can linger in the heart for decades as a kind of retro fixed point. I’d like to believe that God gives us personal memories of prayer to sustain and re-attract us. I am sure one of God’s chief desires for me is to learn that He loves me in excess of my love for anyone or anything else. Paul says as much in his prayer for the Ephesians:
“to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height—to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge.” (Ephesians 3). Notice Paul doesn’t write about prayer, nor merely say, “You should love God.” He prays for them to comprehend God’s love.
Images can give us a more concrete understanding of what I am trying to say about prayer. For this, I like how George Herbert’s poem captures a kind of slideshow in words about the effects of prayer. (Charity Johnson)
Prayer (1)
Prayer the Church’s banquet, angel’s age,
God’s breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth;
Engine against th’ Almighty, sinner’s tower,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six days world-transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;
Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted Manna, gladness of the best,
Heaven in ordinary, man well-drest,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul’s blood,
The land of spices; something understood.
by George Herbert
New Years Eve – what if this night were my last on earth?
Lord, if this night my journey end,
I thank Thee first for many a friend,
The sturdy and unquestioned piers
That run beneath my bridge of years.
And next, for all the love I gave
To things and men this side the grave,
Wisely or not, since I can prove
There always is much good in love.
Next, for the power thou gavest me
To view the whole world mirthfully,
For laughter, paraclete of pain,
Like April suns across the rain.
Also that, being not too wise
To do things foolish in men’s eyes,
I gained experience by this,
And saw life somewhat as it is.
Next, for the joy of labour done
And burdens shouldered in the sun;
Nor less, for shame of labour lost,
And meekness born of a barren boast.
For every fair and useless thing
That bids men pause from labouring
To look and find the larkspur blue
And marigolds of a different hue;
For eyes to see and ears to hear,
For tongue to speak and thews to bear,
For hands to handle, feet to go,
For life, I give Thee thanks also.
For all things merry, quaint and strange,
For sound and silence, strength, and change,
And last, for death, which only gives
Value to every thing that lives;
For these, good Lord that madest me,
I praise Thy name; since, verily,
I of my joy have had no dearth
Though this night were my last on earth.
-by Dorothy Sayers
The Confession of a Lonesome Dove
A friend is fond of telling me how much we need people because they are representations of the love of Christ–in flesh.
I wonder how much of a reality this is for us? Are we like the character on Lonesome Dove? forever wanting to be with the love of our life? This time not Clara but Christ. Then, again, there are times when we’re just as happy not have to look into the very eyes of Jesus Christ–which is how I interpret this poem by James McAuley of Australia:
Confession by James McAuley
To know and feel are hard.
At times you are so much present
It seems I could touch your hand
And stand in your regard.
Mere fancies, but true enough;
And easy enough to lose,
As I abuse the moments,
And you accept the rebuff.
Small things do the hurt–
The lie vanity tells,
Malice or lust that die
Unacted in their dirt.
Bored in my self-prison,
I doubt uneasily;
But the times I get out,
I know you have risen.
From the book Surprises of the sun
Winter is the Childhood of the Year
The winter is the childhood of the year.
Into this childhood of the year came the child Jesus; and into this childhood of the year must we all descend.
It is as if God spoke to each of us according to our need.
My son, my daughter, you are growing old and cunning; you must grow a child again, with my son, this blessed birth-time.
You are growing old and careful; you must become a child.
You are growing old and distrustful; you must become a child.
You are growing old and petty, and weak and foolish; you must become a child — my child, like the baby there, that strong sunrise of faith and hope and love, lying in his mother’s arms in the stable.
Adela Cathcart - by George MacDonald
