Capacity

Since entering a PhD program last October, I've been regularly reflecting on human potential.  As I research Thomas Traherne and his day, I've come to appreciate the importance of understanding man's capacity.  So many modern theological traditions stem from definitions of what man is in soul and flesh.

Despite numerous life experiences to the contrary, I find myself still believing in the potential of humanity.  I've seen atrocities first hand and witnessed from afar evil on the grand scale.  It has not yet quelled my fundamental belief that humanity can reach further toward Goodness.  Some days are all clouds, to be sure, but the Light, if not seen directly, is still perceived in my spirit.

This makes a difference.  When I relate to others, I salt those interactions with this pervasive hope that more will come to them, that they will reach towards Love and trust the goodness of Creation.  Beyond this, I gamble against adversity and extend my own being towards the uncertain prospect of an emerging redemption in my relationships.  This, for me, is discipleship, mimicking a 2000 year old bet the Incarnate wagered that turned out very well indeed.

How With The What

How matters these days.

Looking back, what was the frequent focus.  I wanted what and was willing to pursue it in a haphazard manner.  How hardly factored in.  I can attribute that historical imbalance to youth, to pain, to forgetfulness, to ignorance, to arrogance.   

When my life is rooted in consumption and distraction, what seems like the next right thing.  And strangely enough, what never stands still.  It shifts, transforms, even deteriorates.  Loving only what is like hugging smoke.

How is artistry.  When I live in the here and how, I enter the moment I am in and participate in the beauty of it.  Beauty breathes in process, not in the acquisition.  I cannot own the beautiful but I can encounter it.  How requires the discipline of looking, waiting, and listening.  Once perceived, how is the practice of honoring the Good.  It is a joyful dance set to a metaphysical tune.

I am at the half-time of my life, where the years left are less than the years lived.  The disconnected whats I have chased are passing into oblivion.  The hows are my ebenezer, transformative for my own soul and helpful to other pilgrims who break bread with me.

Jesus Didn't Pack Heat

The events from last week in Connecticut are so very difficult to approach. When my wife was reading some of the accounts of the violence recently, I actually asked her to stop. It's been too much to take in, too much blood and horror and death of innocence. It's a senseless tragedy with hidden tones of the diabolical.

It's also been difficult to hear some reactions to the news through social media. I have been particularly disturbed by calls for more armament. Some believe that gun-free locations (like schools) only create opportunity for extreme violence, that the answer to butchery of this kind is further proliferation of guns so that everyone is on an even playing field. Kill before others are killed, in other words.

I don't mind the debate as a society about the regulation of guns. I hope our nation has a prolonged period of renewed argument on violence of this magnitude. What I am saddened by is the lack of Christian engagement in the discussion (maybe I don't spend enough time surfing the net to find it!). How might I reflect on this slaughter as a disciple of Jesus?

Jesus didn't pack heat. His ministry was defined by powerlessness in that arena. Instead, He gathered followers by the potency of His ideas rooted in love, peace, and reconciliation. His wisdom was contrarian, to say the least. You've heard it said 'An eye for an eye', but I tell you ... That's quintessential Jesus. It disappointed a lot of people. Some even became angry. But the road to the cross was about surrender in the midst of violence. Death's bluff was called out through the death of the Lamb. No one seemed to understand it back then until it was all accomplished.

One particular Scripture comes to mind to punctuate this, found in Luke 22:33-38. I'll end this post with it.

But He replied, "Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death."

Jesus answered, "I tell you, Peter, before the rooster crows today you will deny three times that you know me." Then Jesus asked them, "When I sent you without purse, bag or sandals, did you lack anything?"

"Nothing," they answered. He said to them, "But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don't have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one. It is written: 'And he was numbered with the transgressors'; and I tell you that this must be fulfilled in me. Yes, what is written about me is reaching its fulfillment."

The disciples said, "See, Lord, here are two swords."

"That is enough," he replied.

Keeping Time

If I spend my energy negotiating my future, I will stagnate in the present.  The temptation to organize where I might go always pushes against where I actually am.  It isn't that I shouldn't plan for things to come.  I just need to plan in the lulls of now rather than subject everything at hand to what may or may not be ahead down the road.

I suppose there is a lot of illusory power in planning for the future.  When I iron out the details of life on the horizon, I feel as if I can relax a little.  But the energy I expended in forecasting is no longer available for the present.  Even more so, I am weary from looking out and have no resources to spend for the immediate demands that today carries.  And so I cherish the thoughts of tomorrow in order to resist loving and serving the people around me in their very real needs and desires.

This is the realm of bigger barns amidst present abundance.  I wonder if time is somehow sentient, knowing the falsity and ever wise to let it sit.  I learn when I listen, and then shift my stance to receive and give in the minute I am actually breathing in.      

Durham in the Rear View

My PhD trip to Durham was full of many good things.  The theology department ranks very high in the U.K. (here's an example) and claims the #80 spot as a world university.  For my part, I came here because I was interested in working with Mark McIntosh.  His work on the Divine Ideas tradition and his articulation of a Trinitarian framework to engage it is a great contribution to the dialogue of spiritual formation.  Mark is also the Canon Residentiary at Durham Cathedral, so he is deeply rooted in the Anglican heritage.

The department has around 200 undergraduates and 70 graduate students, set within an otherwise secular university.  My incoming group was about 17 (PhD and Research MA).  They came from all over the world, with a good number from the States.  For new research students, there were several hours of induction (orientation) sessions and times for informal introductions.  I had a chance to talk with a Dominican priest from London, a Pentecostal from Canada, and a Seventh-Day Adventist from the U.S. who had spent time in Calcutta.  Very different heritages and very wide interests in theological research! 

Once the formalities of program induction were over, I spent the rest of my time researching background materials on Thomas Traherne.  My project will center on his writings.  It will take a few months to narrow down the specific item I will explore.  Traherne is a person of interest in current scholarship (here's an upcoming symposium at Cambridge).  He was an relatively unknown figure until the turn of the 20th century, when manuscripts were first discovered.  He lived during the volatile time of the English interregnum period, when church and state were undergoing tremendous change.  I have found his writings very interesting and useful and hope to root him a little more firmly in the philosophical debate of his time.

This was my first trip to the U.K. and the city of Durham is a lovely place to go for that.  The cathedral rises above all else in the city, emphasizing its historical importance.  The town itself is overrun with students from all over the world.  You can hear all kinds of languages in the market.  The town has also been preserved in its medieval feel.  The weather was crisp with the onset of autumn, so walking everywhere was never a burden.  I'd commend a visit here, both for the cathedral and surrounding area, if ever you find yourself in Great Britain.

I do think I will enjoy the British PhD experience.  I guess most starters say that.  I feel a little old to begin now, but have gotten the occasional glimpse of a fellow 'seasoned' student while walking campus.  There will be more trips in store as things firm up and I'll post those experiences.  Durham will host the Lindisfarne Gospel next summer, so that may be the next visit for me. 

Durham Jet Lagged

Here's some pictures from my first glance of Durham.  It's a very cool place!  I am pretty tired so the photography could stand improvement.

Crossing bridge to cathedral/castle

More castle, less cathedral

A bit closer at the Palace Green

Cool graveyard by the cathedral

This is where theology people hang out at Durham

A war memorial in the back there

View from hotel window at cathedral

Persimmon Women

Now that the weather has turned, I like to walk a bit during my lunch time at work.  There is a picturesque state park nearby I prefer, with a leisurely mulched-up trail.  It's a protected forest habitat in the midst of suburbia, replete with turkey, deer, and the rest.

I don't go there to talk with people.  There are many spots to sit on a bench and overlook the pond if desired.  Casual conversations would be easy to have.  I am more interested in completing the loop, giving occasional hello grunts when necessary.

The other day I was pacing along with a couple of Arabic women.  Nashville has a large population of people from that part of the world.  They spoke in their native tongue loud enough for me to hear them 50 yards out.  Occasionally they would stop for a minute.  I would slow my pace some to compensate.  One of their pauses went longer and I chose to pass them.

As I stepped by, I heard "Would you like one?"  I turned and saw a Ziplock bag full of persimmons freshly gathered.

"Persimmons.  Are you picking them up as you walk?" I asked.

"Yes."

"You are very smart.  Are they intense?"  I asked.  I have no idea why the word 'intense' popped into my head.  I guess the only persimmons I have ever tasted were not ripe.

"No, no.  They are good."

After tasting one, I wholeheartedly agreed.  I looked them in the eyes, enjoying this moment of connection and gift.  I then turned and said thank you and walked away.  They assumed their conversation once more in their familiar tongue, though I heard one repeat 'intense?' before I fell out of earshot.  It made me smile.

To become truly generous involves more than simply giving.  It requires authentic receiving.  I cannot claim to be generous person until I learn the art of sharing from both sides of the table.  From this bag of fallen fruit offered by foreign lips I was graced to learn something more about the art.