Tag Archives: Spirituality

If Darwin Prayed – Evolutionary spirituality and the path of Christ — Prayers for Evolutionary Mystics

25 Friday Feb 2011

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Looking forward to meeting the author, Bruce Sanguin, as he conducts a workshop at Dayspring, Saturday March 5th, and service and forum the next day at Wembley Downs Uniting Church.

In the prologue of “If Darwin Prayed” he writes:

My concern, however, is not with the fundamentalist strain of Christianity. Rather, it is with the liberal and so-called “progressive” Christians. We, who accept—and even celebrate—the scientific method and its findings, have been slow to incorporate the evolutionary nature of reality into our theology and liturgy.We do not know conclusively if Darwin lost his faith because of his discovery. We do know that the theological models available to him were limited. There is no reason for the science of evolution and the theology of Christianity to occupy separate domains. We do not need to choose between the two, as recent scientific materialists like Richard Dawkins claim we must. Science and theology represent two different ways of knowing—one focussed on the exterior dimensions of reality and one that includes the physical world but also validates, celebrates,and develops the interior, nonmaterial realm of human experience.

See more of who he is and what he does at If Darwin Prayed – Evolutionary spirituality and the path of Christ — Prayers for Evolutionary Mystics.

The real deal

21 Monday Feb 2011

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Here’s a prayer book with a difference – it certainly arrested my attention. It’s called “Common Prayer: a liturgy for ordinary radicals” and you can see a daily on line version at http://commonprayer.net/

An excerpt from today’s offering demonstrates the true meaning of radical (“from the root”)

Frederick Douglass [1818-1895] wrote in his autobiography, “Between the Christianity of this land, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize the widest possible difference — ​so wide, that to receive the one as good, pure, and holy is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked. I love the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ; I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land. Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity.”

Labyrinth – a pathway to encounter with God.

31 Friday Oct 2008

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A bit slack today – installed new church PA system and laid down a labyrinth in the church forecourt.

What is a labyrinth? For many it conjures images of the Minotaur of ancient Crete – half man and half bull, consuming young Greek captives left to wander in a maze of dark undergoround tunnels.  While the most ancient of labyrinths can be traced to Crete, they are much more benign than that. A labyrinth comprises a simple path winding around itself to a centre – no dead ends, no nasty surprises. For many in the Christian tradition, it is symbolic of prayer – a pathway inwards, laying down cares and concerns; a meeting in communion with God at the centre; and, in retracing the pathway outwards, resolve and application.  Its presence and design lends itself to silent contemplation – the prayer of no words. Simply to walk the pathway is to encounter the stillness where we can listen and hear what is needed.

The labyrinth pictured is open, accessible, and kind of temporary/permanent. It’s only masking tape on pavers, but easily patchable. It’s my poor attempt to put into practice what I learned at a Robert Ferre workshop the other day. We already have a canvas labyrinth available for the use of schools and other community organisations. If you’re passing by, stop off for 20 minutes and give it a try.

Attachments

28 Thursday Aug 2008

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I got quite attached to my little Asus eee laptop while travelling. The size of a paperback book, it did everything I wanted – lots of photo storage, web, email, office suite – everything. Alas, it’s advantage is also a disadvantage – it’s small enough to steal and that’s what happened to it in the post church service chaos of last Sunday.

So I’ve been a bit grumpy as I’ve gone through the motions of filing police reports, pawn shop notifications and insurance claims.

Then I came across this story in Anthony de Mello’s The Prayer of the Frog (Anand Press, 1989), p92

The great buddhist saint Nagarjuna moved around naked except for a loin-cloth and, incongruously, a golden begging-bowl gifted to him by the king who was his disciple.

One night he was about to lie down to sleep among the ruins of an ancient monastery when he noticed a thief lurking behind one of the columns. “Here, take this,” said Nagarjuna, holding out the begging bowl. “that way you won’t disturb me once I have fallen asleep.”

The thief eagerly grabbed the bowl and made off – only to return next morning with the bowl and a request. He said, “When you gave away this bowl so freely last night, you made me feel very poor. Teach me how to acquire the riches that make this kind of light-hearted detachment possible.”

Don’t know that I would have passed my “golden bowl” over so easily, but I recall Jesus saying something very similar about the things we get attached to.

For another take, check out the discussion on this site on how to deal with thieves! It’s a lesson on “how not to market the church” to thieves or anyone else for that matter. Perhaps Nagarjuna can show us all a few things about how to follow our master!

Book Review – The Shack

27 Tuesday May 2008

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Author: William P Young, Windblown Media, 2007

After more than thirty years of trying to come to grips with an adequate articulation of an intellectual understanding of the Trinity, this book has finally convinced me that it can’t be done!

No wonder the biblical writers avoided anything like the “T” word with its propensity for misunderstanding. Taking the lead of Jesus, they use metaphor and story to describe the compelling intimacy of God as revealed through Father, Son and Holy Spirit – an intimacy into which, through the gift of Jesus, all humankind is invited.

For this reason those who trust only a propositional approach to knowing God will not enjoy William Young’s exposition of the nature of God, even given that his work is classified fiction (a bereaved father spends an unexpected weekend with God at the scene of the crime – “The Shack.”) It sends too many doctrinal hares running, and the work of rounding them up is never-ending. It seems to me, however, that Jesus has no problem with this mode of exploring our relationship with the Divine. His use of parable and riddle was obviously a favoured method of opening minds to the possibility of being caught up in the ways of the Kingdom. Young has used a similar approach to entice us into an affective understanding of who God is and why God allows certain things to be the way they are, especially when they leave us cloaked in what Young calls “The Great Sadness.”

I enjoyed immensely reading “The Shack.” It challenged my stereotypes – even the ones in my unconscious. It led me to explore new places that have been slowly revealing themselves over many years in my own prayer practice. I was able to descend into depths of relationship with each of the expressions of God as encountered. The conversations reinforced some of my own discoveries surrounding the painful and vexed question of theodicy (or “why does an all powerful and all loving deity allow suffering?”)

The author doesn’t pretend that this is some ground-breaking theological dissertation – after all, it was originally meant as a story for his own family built on incidents and events in their journey together. In this sense it is similar to Jacob’s nocturnal wrestling with the angel before meeting his estranged brother Esau – the protagonist in “The Shack” emerges not only with a fresh “knowing” of God, but a new name, a new nature, and a new expression of conversion.

Sorry Day Eve

12 Tuesday Feb 2008

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Tomorrow is a historic day for Australia. At long last, after much political soul searching and hand wringing, Federal Parliament, through its new Prime Minister, will say the word “sorry” to this land’s first peoples.

In this context “sorry” is a power word. It has strong potential for unblocking the process for healing and self-realisation, not only for aborigines, but all Australians. The lancing of the wounds of the sordid past of which the “stolen generations” is only one marker, is painful but necessary, and a formal apology carries the properties of both an antibody and a balm.

Some fear the power of the word, anxious of the blight of inherited blame and what it may cost in terms of material compensation. For such the word loses its power, for it simply ceases to exist. The national mood, the zeitgeist, however, is that the “sorry” word is at least ten years overdue and that it should have followed soon after the Bringing them Home report was tabled in Parliament in 1997.

In the meantime, Isaiah 55: 10-13 speaks powerfully into our context:

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,

and do not return there until they have watered the earth,

making it bring forth and sprout,

giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,

so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

it shall not return to me empty,

but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

For you shall go out in joy,

and be led back in peace;

the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song,

and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;

instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;

and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial,

for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.

Is the word “sorry” divinely inspired in this national instance? My theology says it is.

Reflection on an unexpected adrenalin rush

11 Friday Jan 2008

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Up until mid afternoon, the greatest drama today was discovering my car’s cooling system overflowing with oil. I managed to nurse it over to the local service centre, just across from where we live, and was discussing it outside with the bloke there when all hell broke loose.

A man went charging past us with another in close pursuit – yelling something incomprehensible and aiming a pistol. A car screamed around the corner and four burly blokes jumped out, heading the man off and waving pistols. They all jumped on him in a rugby scrum, quickly subdued him and cuffed him. A helicopter hovered overhead. It was all over, but for many more plain clothes officers appearing from every direction.

By that time I was beginning to review my response. As soon as I saw the first gun, I shouted to the fellow I was talking to, “Come on – inside!” and (setting an example of inspired leadership, of course) ran into the service station. I turned to see the scrum and saw my conversation partner running away from me towards it – to get a closer look! Sheepishly, I returned to where we had been standing.

And now I reflect on what motivated my instinctive reaction to what was indeed a highly risky situation. I can see it all in slow motion as the options ran through my head. “Is the guy with the gun a good guy or a crook? Whatever, we don’t need to stop any bullets. We need to hit the dirt. Can I pull this guy I’m talking to down without drawing attention to us? No that’s too dramatic. Let’s get inside and out of the way. Come on – inside!”

Self and/or other preservation? Common sense? Over-reaction? It’s interesting to mull over one’s reactions when danger suddenly arises. What would you have done? And as the American evangelicals constantly ask “What would Jesus do?”

Four days away

18 Thursday Oct 2007

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Sunday Lectio – reading the signs. Cold sores, conjunctivitis, and mild depression reassured me that I was long overdue for some down time. In spite of (or maybe because of) reaching some heart-felt goals, I had been feeling rundown and lethargic for a few weeks. I booked a cabin at Dwellingup, an old wood-cutting community at the base of the Darling Ranges, about 100 km from Perth. I grabbed a few books, the laptop, and some living essentials and headed south. Settling in, walking around, discovering the bush track into town and adjusting to spaciousness was already proving cathartic. I felt a connection to God’s presence – a feeling that had been lacking recently. The silence of the bush that night was soothing.

Monday Meditatio – chewing things over. Mostly I walked …and walked. Not very far as I was still weak from fighting off ‘flu symptoms – probably about 12 km – slowly with many stops to notice and consider. Never far from the railway line. I like railway lines – they are going somewhere. Even when they converge and mysteriously disappear over the horizon, one can trust in a destination. I almost finished reading Salley Vickers The Other Side of You (Fourth Estate, 2006). No railway tracks here, but a riveting narrative featuring at its centre Luke’s account of the Road to Emmaus through the eyes of medieval artist Caravaggio.

Tuesday Oratio – praying out loud. Finished reading Vickers. Could not get the book out of my mind. I’ve reviewed it separately for the Dayspring blog. Re-read Lee Camp Mere Discipleship – the final two chapters on communion and evangelism. Began the process of synthesising – the Emmaus presence of the crucified and risen one brought about by hearts beating in syncopation with his generous and gracious Way that demands all and gives all. How this expresses itself in community with one another and this in itself announces good news to the world. What measures does one take to break the institutional mould that keeps such dangerous transformations at bay? Does this mean jumping railway tracks that lead rigidly to a predetermined destination – and we careen off into the uncharted scrubland to who knows where? Or does it mean following the track as the “narrow way” even when the accretions of time and institutionalised self-interest see it overgrown with weeds and disuse?

Wednesday Contemplatio – letting matters settle. Tomorrow I will be hitting the ground running. Several interviews, meetings, conferences, a promotional dinner, planning, and sermon prep all within 3 days. What is the essence I will bring to all this? Four days ago I would have gone through the motions with my well practiced mask of competency. Today I feel I’ve reconnected with the source of energy that keeps me focused – the Presence that makes all the difference. In keeping with the railway metaphor, the Engine that pulls the wagons. And if such a metaphor sounds too crass – access to a continuing dialogue with the Emmaus Christ who will keep challenging the dullness of those yet to see in order that all things may be transformed.