The blog and the book: two ways of writing…

My post from yesterday is getting a lot of hits, and I appreciate the comments people have left. I need to go on the record as saying, yes, I love books too! As anyone who has been to my house can attest, it is full of books and I keep getting more all the time. My post from yesterday has as much to do with the joy of writing as with the future of “the book” as a media format.

I found this person’s feedback interesting:

If you feel called the write this book, as it seems to me you clearly do, this is God speaking to you. It’s not up to you whether the book is a success, is published or anything else. That’s up to God. It’s the process in your own life and between you and the Divine that matters. Follow your calling!

What’s ironic about this comment is that the only reason I am writing the book is because I already have an offer to publish it. Without that, I wouldn’t be writing it — I’d be writing for the blog instead. And I think that’s really my point: as a writer, I feel the tension between two kinds of writing.

Read More»

Future of the Book

Since I started working in earnest on my new book (tentatively titled The Big Book of Christian Mysticism) last month, I’ve written about 13,000 words and have harvested another 10k or so from various parts of this website. That represents a little less than 1/6 of what the total book should be (yes, that’s 150,000 words, like I said, the tentative title has “big book” in it). Of course, all this is first/rough draft material, which will be revised, reworked, rewritten, reorganized, many times before I dare to let my editor see it.

Even though I’m barely into the project (my deadline is 1/31/09, so I still have thirteen months to go), what I’m already noticing is a tension between blogging and bookwriting.

Read More»

Nasty

The other day I took a walk with a friend of mine, about my age, who is going through a spiritual transition. He was at one point a very devout Christian, going to seminary with the hope of becoming a missionary. But a crisis of faith cut that journey short, and launched him on an unexpected trajectory of criticism toward organized religion that has finally resulted in his declaring to me, just the other night, that he has begun to wonder if perhaps he is an atheist. It became clear from our conversation that for him atheism involved two problems, the problem of God and the problem of religion. He dealt with the problem of God by deciding that “God” is a psycholinguistic symbol that people use to signify ultimate concern or power. Meanwhile, religion was the real enemy, for while he acknowledged that much good has been done in the name of religion, he felt that a final balancing of the books suggested that religion, overall, does more harm than good.

I think my friend may be rather typical of persons who choose agnosticism or atheism over religious faith. He’s given me a lot to think about. Indeed, while chatting with Fran this morning, I had this thought: If you look at all the various arguments put forth by agnostics and atheists against God and religion, and you simply boiled them down, down to their essence, it seems to me that the atheist/agnostic critique of religion can be succinctly stated in four words:

“Religious people are nasty.”

From the crusades to the witch burnings to the arrest of Galileo to Pius X’s condemnation of modernism to the church-fueled hostility to gay and lesbian persons, atheists have plenty of fuel for their anti-religious fires. But whether they are taking aim at religion’s hatred of science, hatred of sexuality, hatred of free thought, or hatred of cultural diversity, the common element in all of this is that religious people hate. No wonder atheists find us so disgusting.

Read More»

Happy Christmas

It’s almost time for bed, but I wanted to post a couple of photos to the blog and write about our happy Christmas. Fran and Rhiannon and I are in Hampton, Virginia, visiting my father.

Dad, Christmas 2007

We exchanged gifts; as usual, my loot consisted mostly of media, from The Origin of Fire by Anonymous 4, to Quantum Theology by Diarmuid O’Murchu, to — lest anything think I’m all work and no play — Ratatouille. After the presents were all unwrapped, Fran got out her guitar (an “early” gift from my sister-in-law Julie) and we all sang Christmas carols.

Christmas Caroling, 2007

Later in the afternoon my niece Beth Ann came down from Richmond and we went out for dinner at a Chinese restaurant (the only place in town we knew would be open).

This is our first Christmas since losing Mom. I was braced for it to be a toughie, but I think everyone was just happy to be together. We knew Mom was with us in spirit.

Distinctive Qualities of Celtic Christianity

I”ve been pondering the question, “What are the disctinctive qualities of Celtic Christianity?” In thinking about this, five particular points emerged. Celtic Christianity, as expressed in the poetry, prayers, folklore and hagiography of the earliest Christians of Ireland, Scotland and Wales, appears to have these five distinctive qualities:

  1. Hospitality, and particularly hospitality to all wisdom. This is epitomized by the early Celtic Christian tolerance/acceptance of the Celtic pagan past, at a time when most of Christendom was aggressively attacking all outsider religion as demonic. “Christ is my Arch-Druid,” said Columcille, implying not onlly his love for Christ, but that in Christ he could also honor the faith of his pre-Christian ancestors. I would think that today this hospitality manifests as a deep ecumenism and also as an openness to all that is beautiful good and true in non-Christian faiths, such as Vedanta or Zen. In general, the virtue of hospitality suggests that the heart of Celtic Christianity is an ethic of welcoming rather than purity.
  2. Deep love and respect for the earth. This is so obviously part of the heart of the Celtic tradition that it really needs no commentary. But from the folklore associated with saints like Kevin and Brigid, to the lorica attributed to Patrick, to the overall spirit of joy in nature found in early Celtic Christian poetry, this is a constant theme of Celtic wisdom, and one vitally relevant to our day. I don’t remember the exact quote, but Columcille once said something to the effect that the most fearful sound he could think of was that of an ax cutting down a tree. There is the Celtic heart.
  3. Honoring of women’s ministry. The archetype here is Brigid, the abbess who according to legend was consecrated a bishop and provided spiritual guidance to both women and me. In general, the role of women in early Irish law was much stronger and egalitarian than its Roman counterpart. I don’t want to overstate the case or suggest that Ireland was some sort of proto-feminist paradise, but I do think the relative standing of Celtic women when compared to women in general in the early centuries of Christianity can be an inspiration to all Christians who seek a more equitable theology of the sexes. The Celts remind us that we do not have to be limited by the heritage of the Roman Empire when it comes to understanding the role of women in the life of the church.
  4. Emphasis on the local. “To travel to Rome: great expense; little profit; but to pilgrimage to Glendalough: little expense, great profit.” Maybe this was just a marketing campaign launched by the good monks of Glendalough, but I think it speaks to a larger sensibility among the Irish (and other Celtic) Christians and general. Think of Holy Wells — each one is unique and different and distinctive. In the Celtic world, the local is just as important as the universal. Celtic Christianity balances universality with honoring of what is distinctive and unique about the locality. Closely aligned with this is the Celtic preference for monasteries rather than dioceses. The word “Tuath” suggests not only a community, but the land where that community lives. I think this goes a long way to explaining the Celtic spirit.
  5. Deep creativity. From the splendid illuminated calligraphy of the Book of Kells; to the intricate metalwork of the Ardagh Chalice; to the finely-crafted carving that characterizes the Crosses of Monasterboice: Celtic Christianity literally oozes with art and creativity. It’s a highly expressive tradition, full of poetry and folklore and local legends, and even “medieval bestsellers” like The Voyage of Brendan, rich with imaginative storytelling. This I would think is closely aligned with the love of the earth: to celebrate God’s creation is linked with celebrating our own creativity (and using it to honor and praise the Ultimate Artist).

I’m sure I could come up with more, but this seems to be a good place to stop for now. It’s probably important to note that none of these distinctive qualities were universal in the Celtic church: for example, Kevin of Glendalough was notorious for his fear of women. But given the Celtic emphasis on the local, it’s important to remember that the world of Celtic spirituality is defined by diversity. What’s important is not that all Celtic Christians embodied hospitality, creativity, honoring of earth and women, and so forth; but that enough of them did so as to leave behind an inspirational literary tradition that embodies these values.

Celtic Christians never thought of themselves as somehow different or special. But by simply being themselves, they have bestowed upon us, their spiritual descendants, a priceless and precious gift: a unique way of looking at the world, and therefore, a distinctive cultural expression of discipleship that is deeply relevant to the needs of the postmodern world.

Kakure Kirishitan

Follow this link to read a fascinating article about a sect in Japan that evolved after the earliest Christian missionaries arrived in the sixteenth century. When Christianity was suppressed starting in the early 1600s, Japan’s first Christians had to adapt to survive — and they did, by blending Christianity with elements of Buddhism and Shinto. I think one can easily find parallels to the history of Christianity in Ireland, Africa, and elsewhere.

Japan’s “Hidden Christians” Face Extinction

Also check out the Wikipedia entry for Kakure Kirishitan.

The Eve of Yule

Newgrange, 2005 (photo by Carl McColman)

Tonight will be longest night of the year. The exact solstice moment occurs at 1:08 AM Saturday morning, Atlanta time. So happy winter solstice, everyone!

This means that at Newgrange in Ireland, probably starting yesterday and running through Monday, the annual solstice event is occurring, meaning that for just a few minutes each morning — weather permitting — the sun will shine directly into the heart of this megalithic tomb. Even though it is about 5,000 years old, this ancient structure is perfectly aligned so that the winter solstice sunrise briefly shines directly into its heart, casting light into chambers that the rest of the year would lie in serene darkness.

We know so little about what our ancestors believed. Clearly, to build a tomb like Newgrange (which easily took several generations to complete) with such a precise astronomical alignment speaks not only to a profound reverence for the dead, but also a deep knowledge of the environment — and, we may presume, some sort of conviction about immortality. The form those beliefs may have taken, of course, has been lost in the mists of time. All that is left is a massive structure, which after millennia stands as a silent testimony to an ancient wisdom long lost.

It begs the question: what other forms of knowledge or wisdom have been lost to us? And what will take to regain such insight?

Good questions for us as we reflect on the longest night of the year, and the anticipated return of the sun.

N.B. My apologies to readers from the southern hemisphere — hope you have a joyful summer solstice!

‘nough said

An anonymous blogger who calls himself “a peasant”  quoted my If… post in full yesterday on his blog Nuf Sed, and then added this gem of his own commentary:

I found working through these questions to be a valuable exercise today. And it’s an exercise very much like this that is leading me these days. Not setting myself up as a mystic, mind you. Too high range for me. And even if God gave me the grace of God’s Presence…I sure wouldn’t call myself a mystic! How awkward! ‘Mystic’ is a word that only other people — and very discerning ones — can affix to you, and preferably long after you’re dead. Calling oneself a ‘mystic’ is like laughing at one’s own jokes — it’s just a mistake.

That’s not only ‘nough said, it’s well said. Just the other day I had written my “don’t make the mistake of calling yourself a mystic” disclaimer for my book, and —at least for its first draft — I’m afraid it is rather bloated and verbose. How lovely to read the words of someone who can make that argument eloquently, elegantly and humorously in just a few well-chosen words.

New Testament Mysticism

Here’s a website that looks tasty:

The Society of Biblical Literature’s New Testament Mysticism Project Seminar.

As the website puts it,

The New Testament Mysticism Project Seminar (NTMPS) was organized under the auspices of the Society of Biblical Literature to facilitate the study of early Jewish and Christian mystical traditions in the New Testament writings.
The NTMPS understands early Jewish and Christian mysticism as a tradition located within formative Judaism and Christianity, a tradition centering on the belief that a person directly, immediately and before death can experience God or his manifestation.

If…

If right here and right now, you were a fully blossomed mystic — I mean of the same caliber as Julian of Norwich or John of the Cross — how would your life be different?

What would your day look like?

How would you be spending (or investing) your money?

How much time would you spend each day in prayer? In lectio divina? In works of mercy? In our postmodern/western equivalent to “chop wood, carry water” — i.e., cleaning the laundry and doing the dishes?

Would you be a member of the same church you are now? If you’re not currently a member of a church, would you seek one out? If you think you would be part of a different faith community than the one you’re in now, what would that look like? Meanwhile, how would your mystical consciousness change the way you think about and relate to faiths and wisdom traditions other than your own?

What about your interpersonal relationships? I don’t believe mysticism in itself changes our relationships, although it might add stress to dysfunctional or toxic connections. How would your immersion in the mystical life impact those you love? Would they be happy about this?

What about your messes: your addictions, your compulsions, your secrets? What would the mystical life impel you to do about them?

How would being a mystic impact your level of physical activity? Your overall health and commitment to keeping yourself healthy? How would it impact your diet? In other words, what would you have for breakfast? Dinner? Supper?

What about work? How would your professional life change? What would need to be different about who you are vocationally?

And how would the mystical path affect your creativity? What kind of creative work do you think mysticism would inspire in you? How would that be different from what you are now?

I’m asking you all these questions (and myself, too), for a very simple reason. I know I am nowhere near the level of consciousness of a Julian or a John. But I certainly admire them, and if it were God’s will to grant me the experience and strength of character to be a mystic like that, I hope that I would be worthy enough to receive such a gift. But I also don’t believe life is meant to be lived in the future: it’s for today, here, now. I know that I have no control over God’s gift of felt presence in my life; but I do have control over how I conduct my life in order to be disposed to receive God’s presence, in whatever form or degree God chooses to come to me.

To summarize: If I love the mystical tradition and admire the mystics, doesn’t, therefore, it make sense for me to live as if I were a mystic: starting today?

How we answer this question, it seems to be, will do much to shape our process of spiritual formation.

© Copyright www.anamchara.com - Theme by Pexeto