more on sustainability

I didn't mention anything Jesus said or did about material sustainability, maintaining property (or income) long term. Because I couldn't think of any examples. I don't think there are any. This morning, though, I did think of one thing he said that could be interpreted to support sustainability concerns:

Which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, 'This man began to build, and was not able to finish.'

Or what king, going to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and take counsel whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends an embassy and asks terms of peace. (Lk 14.28-32)

In seminary, I heard this passage used to encourage prudent money management. But I had to question that interpretation when I read the very next verse: "So therefore, whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple."

That neither seems prudent nor a good way to produce a sustainable ministry. But it matches very well with Jesus' own life and ministry.

woman in black

This picture of Heather appeared on the front page of the Daily Northwestern this week. It was taken during a weekly Women in Black (hence the black cloak) protest in downtown Evanston.

sustainability?

In a discussion last weekend, someone mentioned that a big concern for ministries like Catholic Worker houses (soup kitchens, homeless shelters, etc) is "sustainability." Keeping the place from being run down, for example, so that it will be available and useful for many years. Or keeping an orderly environment, so people can bear to stay and work there for longer periods of time and don't get burned out. And this is usually achieved by putting limits on its usage, making rules, telling people no, etc.

This causes some tension in a place like a Catholic Worker house, where there is usually a resistance to making rules and using our power to shut out those who are the poorest and weakest. But it's understandable that with overwhelming needs and demands from people, the assumption is that such service couldn't last long without laying down some laws. That seems to be the only way the ministry can be sustainable.

I do think there are good reasons for saying no to some requests, but when I look at Jesus ministry, I have a hard time finding a model of sustainable management. The only instance I remember of anything like this is in Mark 6.31-34 (and here the disciples don't get a break after all):

[Jesus] said to them, "Come away by yourselves to a lonely place, and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a lonely place by themselves.

Now many saw them going, and knew them, and they ran there on foot from all the towns, and got there ahead of them. As he went ashore he saw a great throng, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.

What's worse, the next thing the disciples know, Jesus is telling them, "You give [the crowd] something to eat." Sustainablity?

And it seems Jesus' ministry was not actually sustainable for long--within three years he was killed. Perhaps it could be said that his means of sustaining his ministry was to recruit and train disciples to carry on. And that's true. As long as we also recognize that he taught his disciples to follow his example, which was not an example of sustainability. No properties, no secure source of funding, no way to defend themselves. Like Jesus, they also were to go all out, giving everything, living a life of extreme witness, and expecting persecution and the cross. It wasn't a model for the long haul. The only way the ministry would be sustained is if their example inspired others to step up when they fell.

I think one thing that stands out in Jesus' ministry is how much it is not bound by concerns for sustainability. "Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day." (Mt 6.34) The fact that it is sustained is then the miracle.

"If your brother sins, rebuke him"

"Be on your guard! If your brother sins, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him." (Lk 17.3)

One more thing I've struggled a lot with while I've been here is how to keep loving people even when they do wrong. My preferred response has been to try to forgive (whether they ask or not) and try to set an example through my own actions, but not directly challenge them on the fault. Not that I thought it was wrong to directly confront people. But I just so seldom see it done well, and I don't have much experience of it myself.

What I've found, however, is that when I see a significant fault and do not challenge it, it seems to become harder and harder to to continue to love and serve that person. It feels like my heart starts to harden towards them.

I tried to deny this for a while, since I don't believe someone else's wrongdoing can cause my heart to harden, or cause me to do wrong towards them. Yet it became clear that my love was indeed growing cold in some cases. This caused me to focus more closely on what was happening; and what was the most Christlike response in a situation like this (which led me to the verse quoted above). And I came to the conclusion that it wasn't their fault that was causing my hardness of heart, but my own fault.

Because what God was calling me to do in that situation was to challenge the wrong. "If your brother sins, rebuke him." And I was refusing to do that. It's not easy, of course, to challenge someone and it's very difficult to do it well and with love. But if we don't respond to God's impetus to challenge a brother or sister, we start to cut ourselves off from God; if we don't let his love flow through us (to call someone back from sin) then we begin to quench that love in ourselves. So it's not just a matter of doing that person a favor. Or doing what is best for good community life (though both of these are true). It's also a matter of staying in touch with God ourselves. If we will not obey and do the hard, loving things that God asks of us, then we cut ourselves off from that Love.

I think now I can see rebuke (or challenge) more as an act of obedience, rather than an act of intrusion or manipulation or just venting emotions (as long as it's always done from a position of weakness, not power). And I need to look more intentionally for God's guidance and for opportunities to serve in this way.

happy mother's day

parting thoughts

As my time here at Reba Place is coming to an end, I'm feeling the pressure to say or do one last thing before I go. Feeling like it's my last chance.

I'm not sure if that feeling is reliable, though. Maybe I've done and said enough and should just make sure the relationships I have with people here are left in a good place. But there is still something nagging at me, something I feel I should explore. Maybe it won't turn out to be anything worth sharing with others here, but I think it will help me clarify what I have learned anyway.

Probably the most troubling part of what is taught (and lived) here has to do with discerning God's will. Here's a passage from an early pamphlet that describes this important tenet of their common belief:

In another memorable saying ("For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Mt 18:20), [Jesus] pointed to the company of those who gather in his name as the place on earth where he would be present to give guidance.

In our Fellowship we want to unite in this way. We want to support one another in the decisions we are facing. We want to take counsel together in the spirit of a common search for God's will.

We do this in many ways, but this side of our life finds special emphasis among us at the time of our members' meetings. To this meeting we bring those individual and group decisions that are confronting us. Is someone facing a difficult moral question in connection with his/her work? Is another out of a job and looking for a new one? Has a neighbor come to us with a difficult request for help? How can we take our stand against war and other forms of violence in our land? These and many other questions like them are spread out before God and one another and sought through to an answer. Very often we become aware that the solution arrived at is far superior to that which any single one of us could have found alone.

The last sentence really sums it up. And as it is written there's nothing I object to in this, actually. As long as the "very often" is in there. Maybe it would help to add: "But not always." Because, while a community of committed Christians may often see God's will more clearly than any one person, there are also many times when one committed Christian see God's will much more clearly than the group. The history of the church (and Israel) offers many examples of this.

The problem really arises when "the group often sees God's will more clearly" becomes institutionalized, as it is here. Then, this "often" becomes "usually" becomes "we trust the group." And submission to the group consensus becomes the practical expression of this belief.

It is a good thing to encourage people to submit to God's will. To lay down their own ambitions and intentions and obey God's leading. But once God's will becomes equated with a group consensus (since the "the group often sees God's will more clearly") then this is no longer submission of the individual to God. It has become submission of the individual to the group. Just another form of replacing God with ourselves, the collective "We, the people."

I think this has happened here to greater and lesser degrees throughout their history, and many (actually a large majority of the people who have ever joined) have experienced this and eventually left. I ran up against it a few times myself, so I know it's still part of the life here. But I don't know if it can be eliminated without dissolving the institution of the fellowship, since it's so central to what membership means. So I don't know how valuable it would be to challenge this (more than I already have in particular situations).

I do believe that we should be open to the guidance of God through others. But the consensus of a group of elders or the majority of members (even if it's everyone else) cannot be trusted completely.

Remember, Jesus was not killed by some fanatic individual but by the official leaders (and popular outcry) of the religious community he was a part of...

Physician, heal thyself

(I just finished this story, which was inspired by my recent thoughts on fruitfulness.)

“I’ll have a look at him,” he said wearily, dropping his pen on the unfinished paperwork and getting up again. “But he’s the last one today. If I don’t get these reports out we could lose our funding.”

The nurse looked relieved. “Thank you, doctor.”

The patient was in a wheelchair; he’d seen the man here at the clinic before. Muscular dystrophy. Not much they could do about that. But he didn’t understand why the man didn’t at least have a power chair; Medicaid paid for things like that. Apparently his wife didn’t mind pushing him around. “Hello, Mr. Johns. Kelly wants me to have a look at your leg... How long has it been like this?”

“About a week, but it’s not bothering me. I’m just here to reassure my wife.”

He adjusted the light and took a long look at the reddened area. “Kelly also says she thought she saw something… unusual in the waiting room just now. Between you and Mrs. Parker?” He paused. “Did you see Mrs. Parker—she’s also in a wheelchair, early 50s, dark hair—did you talk to her?”

“Yes.”

“Just now.”

“Yes.”

He eyed Mr. Johns. “What happened?”

“What did the nurse tell you?”

He hesitated, staring warily at the man in the chair. “She said Mrs. Parker got up and left.”

Mr. Johns just looked at him and nodded. He took a deep breath and leaned over the man’s leg again, touching it lightly this time. “Does that hurt?”

“No. I think it’s getting better; it just takes things a long time to heal, with my poor circulation.”

“Yes, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” he agreed. Then added, “But you must be mistaken about Mrs. Parker. She’s paraplegic; she’s never going to walk again. You must have her confused with someone else.” He pulled down the man’s pant leg and lowered the leg rest into its normal position. Then he straightened up and smiled. “Come back, though, if this gets worse.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

He turned to go. But the man’s voice stopped him at the door. “Mrs. Parker has been coming here to Bethesda clinic for many years,” Mr. Johns said slowly. “It just seemed like she’d been waiting long enough. Don’t you agree?”

He turned and studied the man sitting there. “What are you suggesting? That you healed her?”

“Is that what the nurse told you?”

“That seems to be her conclusion. She’s mistaken, of course…”

Mr. Johns smiled. “Of course. No, I didn’t heal her, doctor.” The man’s gaze fell to his lap, then rose again quickly. “God did.”

He shifted Mr. Johns’ file to his other hand, and sighed. “Look, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a lot to do.” He turned again to leave.

“God has also healed your daughter, doctor,” Mr. Johns said. “You should go see her.”

He froze, confused. Then turned back, anger rising within him. “I’m not sure what kind of game you’re playing, but it’s not funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny,” the man replied calmly. “You look tired, doctor. You should leave the rest of your work for tomorrow and go visit your daughter right now. She’s waiting for you.”

He stared hard at Mr. Johns, then laughed. “You can’t expect me to believe any of this. I mean… I don’t mean to be rude… but look at you. If you really are what you’re pretending to be, why are you still sitting there in that chair?” He took two steps and looked down at his patient again. “For that matter, why not heal all those people out there? Why just Mrs. Parker? Do you see what I’m saying? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Mr. Johns considered that a moment before replying.



He managed to wait two days before going to see Sophie. To prove to himself he wasn’t going because Johns told him to, but just because it had been too long since his last visit with his daughter. The psychiatric hospital depressed him. He cringed inside every time the wide door to the locked ward fell shut behind him. His daughter should not be here. And he hated to see her like this, drugged into submission; sometimes he briefly wondered if the unpredictably violent Sophie hadn’t been better. At least she spoke then—as loud as she could. Now she just sat there. Looking at him.

When he entered her room she was sitting on the bed and her hair was neatly combed. Which was unusual for Sophie. Her hair had been the only remaining sign of the girl he remembered, the only part of her they had not been able to tame. But as he approached the bed he noticed the comb was in her own hand. He looked questioningly into her eyes. And saw there the usual medicated haze, but also something else—was it a light? She smiled. He stopped, staring at the girl who had once been his daughter and then was not. Then he heard her voice again.

“Daddy,” she said softly, the light in her eyes flaring. “You have got to get me out of here. These people are control freaks!”

He made an appointment with Sophie’s doctor and promised her he’d return the next day. Then she kissed him. He was so surprised, he practically ran out of the hospital. It was impossible; he wanted it too much to trust his own judgment, and how could it possibly have happened? Johns had told him how it happened. But that was ridiculous—this was a man who claimed his disease had made him a healer. Okay, not exactly, but isn’t that what it amounted to? “The weaker I got, the more I felt it rising up in me.” Which was also Johns’ reason for not healing himself. And for not wanting to pack stadiums and go on TV like those famous so-called “faith healers.” “My power is made perfect in weakness.” So the man would rather be unknown and so poor he has to go to a free clinic to see a doctor. None of it made sense. Johns was the one who should be in the psychiatric hospital.

But he found himself making an unplanned stop at the clinic on the way home. To get Mrs. Parker’s address. Then he drove the few blocks to her house, not knowing what he would do when he got there. He didn’t have to do anything. Mrs. Parker was out in front of her house, planting some flowers. As he passed, she turned and waved. He waved back.



It was three years before he saw Mr. Johns again. Mrs. Johns pushed him in, babbling that she’d wanted to call 911 but her husband insisted on being brought to the clinic. It looked like Johns was dying. The man was so weak he could barely take a breath. His first impulse was to call 911 himself since the clinic was not equipped to handle this, but before he could move, Mr. Johns fell forward and he lunged to catch the dying man.

Then he heard one word, in a low rasp.

“Sophie?”

He looked into Mr. Johns’ eyes and was caught for a moment. Then he nodded. “Yes, she’s home… I tried to find you, but your file….” He saw Mr. Johns’ smile fade as the man struggled to take another breath. “No!” he whispered frantically. “Don’t let this happen! Get up!” Then he stepped back from the dying man. “I can’t help you. Please! Why won’t you get up? I work so hard here but… I can’t… But you, you could change it all… Get up!” He grabbed Mr. Johns’ shoulders, and the man spoke again.

“Unless a grain… falls… and dies…”

Then the voice sounded different. “But if it dies it produces much...” It sounded stronger, though the blue-tinged lips didn’t seem to be moving anymore. But there was life in the eyes that held his. “You think, ‘If I work hard enough…’ But there’s too many Mrs. Parkers left waiting. And your own daughter, sitting there looking at you. And then you begin to doubt you’re the man you think you are, the man they say you are...

“Who told you that you’re the doctor?”

He stared at Mr. Johns for several minutes, though he was sure the man was dead. He stood up slowly. Then he was moving towards the door, someone calling after him, “Doctor? Doctor!”

“I’m not feeling well,” he mumbled and pushed the door open.

The sun was bright and hot. Waves of heat danced on the pavement, forming mirages in the dead air. He looked out into the parking lot and down the street. No movement, no life. Unless a grain falls and dies… He took a hot breath and stepped out. But he stopped abruptly when he reached his shiny car, every surface reflecting the blazing sun. My power is made perfect in weakness. Taking off his stethoscope, he gently laid it on the gleaming hood, and turned towards home.

It would be a long walk, he thought.

moses

You led your people like a flock
by the hand of Moses and Aaron. (Ps 77.20)

Reading Psalm 78 the other morning, I realized that Moses is a good example of a leader who stayed focused on the "one thing." A good model for fatherhood, in my opinion. He remains always a prophet, a servant of God, never to be confused with any other type of worldly leader. His call is to listen to God and trust him and help the people do so as well.

And there was no illusion that Moses was leading or providing for these people. God was the leader and provider. Moses merely listened and spoke what he heard from God. Of course, the people complained to him, and held him responsible (something I dread as a parent), but he knew that he was merely mediating the relationship between the people and God:

And the whole congregation of the people of Israel murmured against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness, and said to them, "Would that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate bread to the full; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger."

Then the LORD said to Moses, "Behold, I will rain bread from heaven for you..." So Moses and Aaron said to all the people of Israel, "At evening you shall know that it was the LORD who brought you out of the land of Egypt, and in the morning you shall see the glory of the LORD, because he has heard your murmurings against the LORD. For what are we, that you murmur against us? ...Your murmurings are not against us but against the LORD." (Ex 16.2-8)

That's something I can see myself doing. Helping others (friends, wife, children) understand what God is doing and encourage them to trust and obey that, and also intercede for them before God. Passing along all that I'm given, material and spiritual. And never pretending that I am Father.

I also like how Moses was helping the people on their great pilgrimage...

simplicity

Thinking about "only one thing," this verse from Psalm 73 came to mind:

Whom have I in heaven but thee? And there is nothing upon earth that I desire besides thee.

Many Christians claim this, recognizing that this should describe us. But it's rare to see a life that demonstrates this well. Some have tried to live such a single-minded life by withdrawing from other people and most activity, like monks or other types of hermits. They often do this to avoid temptation and help themselves focus on "the one thing." But such renunciation also catches the attention of others, showing them what the monk thinks is important and so directing their attention in that direction as well.

For a similar reason, Paul recommends the single life: "The unmarried man is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to please the Lord; but the married man is anxious about worldly affairs, how to please his wife, and his interests are divided." (1 Cor 7.32-34)

This is really what simplicity of life is about. Not just unburdening ourselves or lowering stress levels, but bringing our lives into a focus on one thing. Moving from scattered-mindedness to single-mindedness. It reminds me of Kierkegaard's book, Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing. And this is not just for ourselves but also for others, because when they notice our attention so intently directed at God, they are prompted to turn and see what's so interesting, so all-consuming.

But is Paul right? Should marriage and family be avoided for the sake of God-directed simplicity? I can certainly see the difficulties that would arise, just as I see it's much harder to remain focused on the one thing when you're in the midst of society (rather than a hermitage). But I've experienced how God can provide the space to live a very focused life outside the cloister, and there seems to be value in having such single-mindedness mixed right in among the world's scattered-mindedness. Perhaps I'll find the same is possible in family life?