The Wind is howling outside.
Does it frighten you, or invigorate you?
It blows for a reason.
Change is in the air.
To many it is uncomfortable and unsettling.
This change that comes unbidden.
To others it signals freedom;
an energy that confirms our personal desires.
This flow must be God!
Yes, it is certainly God;
but God comes to each so differently,
focusing in on our suffering.
Life brings suffering to all.
That is not meant as a threat
Instead it brings God’s grace.
That is hard to hear.
Does anyone like to reveal their insecurity?
Who wants to admit ignorance?
But ignorance keeps us stuck.
Ignorance chains us to what we know;
a safety that denies awareness.
What we think we want ..
what we convince ourselves is right
often comes as ego masked.
Is it really for others?
Does our insistence for justice speak universally?
Is it inclusive or exclusive?
The Wind is howling outside.
Does it frighten you, or invigorate you?
It blows for a reason.
It stirs us to question.
Is our motivation a mere mob mentality?
Safety we find in numbers?
Or does it speak internally?
Does it lure us to personal transformation
where true change must begin?
Information does not mean wisdom.
Sometimes the questions simply can’t be answered.
Sometimes things cannot be fixed.
Sometimes there is no certainty.
Is Heaven’s Hound nipping at our heels?
It all begins with faith.
True faith is not naivety.
It is not a denial of reality.
It is our hope’s precursor.
Can we remove our masks?
Can ego acquiesce to the greater good?
Do we dare accept grace?
Grace – a blessing often denied.
Grace – a blessing we cannot earn or merit.
Grace – to weather any storm.
Perhaps the Wind brings storm.
Perhaps it’s time – perhaps we’re now ready.
The Hound relentlessly prompt us.
The Wind is howling outside.
Does it frighten you, or invigorate you?
It blows for a reason.
Belonging and Becoming: Creating a Thriving Family Culture is the book many have been waiting for. Had it been around when we were starting our family 24 years ago, it would easily have been #1 on my list. That’s a huge endorsement coming from me, since I find most books on family and relationships filled with stereotypes and formulas. Here’s what’s different about Mark and Lisa Scandrette’s newest book:
It’s well written. From the very beginning they capture your attention with stories that draw you in. Then, weaving story, concept, reflection and action steps into each chapter, Mark and Lisa reinforce their main points in clear, simple terms.
It’s not “one size fits all”. This is not a recipe book telling you how much of each ingredient you need and precisely how to cook it. Mark and Lisa do share what they believe are key elements to a thriving family, but they do it in a way that gives maximum freedom to explore as a family what, and how much, of each element works best for you.
It’s Christ-centered with room for your family. At the center of this book is a chapter about our common story. As a family, whether traditional, single parent, blended, or other, we have a common story. We can choose to either intentionally write it together, or allow others to write it for us. Family faith formation is discovering our story within God’s larger story, then learning to walk faithfully together with Christ into the stories of our neighborhood and world.
It’s a rich tool chest you’ll come back to over and over again. I love how this book pulls to the surface critical aspects of our lives as family. Each chapter provides concrete ways your family can unpack the key concept, explore it as a family, a couple, and individually, and then reassemble it in a way the fits the uniqueness of your family. The tools and questions Mark and Lisa provide are what make this book so unique. They don’t just theorize, they give you practical actions so that you can make real changes that last.
It will not only enrich your family life, it might just draw families together for a stronger community. Not only does each chapter provide a helpful summary along with the activities, but at the end of the book is a group learning guide. Why go it alone as a family when you can bring others with you? The group section is set up so that leading the group is simple yet encourages vulnerability and discussion. You can download the guide here and see just how helpful it is!
Mark and Lisa are courageous! Each chapter of this book includes a reflection from their daughter, Hailey. If I were writing a book about family I’m not sure I’d want my kids to make comments in each chapter. I’m just not that brave. Hailey makes the book even more personal and demonstrates her parents’ integrity in living out the overall message.
No, they are not the “perfect family”, and I’m sure they would all be quick to tell you that. But they are a family that cares deeply about one another because they’ve taken the time to be with, and belong to, one another. This “belonging and becoming” is really at the heart of what it means to be family and what it means to “create a thriving family culture”.
As a family, we’ve done pretty well. Still, I wish this book of wisdom and very practical guidance was around when we began our family nearly 25 years ago. In fact, to have read this book at the start of our marriage 32 years ago would have helped us in our pre-child years to lay a solid foundation on which to build our family.
Mark and Lisa Scandrette are co founders of ReIMAGINE: A Center for Integral Christian Practice. They lead an annual series of retreats, workshops and projects designed to help participants apply spiritual wisdom to everyday life. For twenty five years they have devoted themselves to creating community, offering hospitality, and inviting transformation in at risk neighborhoods. They live in the Mission District of San Francisco and have three young adult children. Mark is also the author of Practicing the Way of Jesus and together they are coauthors of the book, FREE: Spending Your Time and Money on What Matters Most.
Coming to Seattle and Portland, OR: Feb. 26-March 4. Locations and details coming soon.
Many of us are familiar with the early Irish saint, Brigid (Brigit, Bridget, Bride), one of Ireland’s three patron saints along with St. Patrick and St. Columba. Brigid was a Christian Abbess and founder of several monasteries including the famous Kildare (Cill Dara meaning “Church of the Oak Tree”), which was a double monastery of men and women serving equally together. Yet, are we aware that Brigid was also possibly an ordained Bishop?
On this feast day of St. Brigid, February 1, I would like to focus on Brigid’s possible call as a Bishop. There are at least six separate Lives of Brigid. One of the first was written by Cogitosus about 650AD. He described the large double monastery of Kildare in which men and women lived and worked as equals with Brigid as the Abbess. Even though Cogitosus claimed that Kildare in the 7th c. was “head of almost all the Irish churches with supremacy over all the monasteries of the Irish and a paruchia which extended over the entire island of Ireland,” he did not mention Brigid being ordained as a Bishop.
Brigid’s journey towards possible ordination as a Bishop is intriguing. It is said that when generous and compassionate Brigid gave away her father Dubthach’s sword to a leper, her father was so angry that he tried to sell his daughter to the king. The King declined her father’s offer and would not bargain for Brigid because “her merit was higher before God than before men.” Her father gave Brigid her freedom but he still tried to marry her off, but she refused to accept any proposal. Eventually her father agreed to let his daughter go see the aged Bishop Mel in Ardagh who had been a disciple and possibly a nephew of St. Patrick.
There are four similar accounts of Brigid’s ordination as a Bishop. One version of Brigid’s ordination as Bishop is found in the early 9th c. Bethu Brigte, a biography of Brigid that was likely based upon an earlier Life of Brigid. According to sections 17-19 of the Bethu Brigte, Bishop Mel ordained Brigid as a nun and some say that he also by mistake read the wrong prayers which ended up ordaining Brigid as a Bishop. Afterwards, Bishop Mel was asked why he had read the incorrect prayers making Brigid a Bishop. He replied that the Holy Spirit had taken the matter out of his hands. Section 19 about this ordination incident reads:
“The bishop being intoxicated with the grace of God there did not recognize what he was reciting from his book, for he consecrated Brigit with the orders of a Bishop. This virgin alone in Ireland, said Mel, will hold the Episcopal ordination. While she was being consecrated a fiery column ascended from her head.”
The 11th c. The Irish Liber Hymnorum, vol 14, p. 192, edited by John Henry Bernard and Robert Atkinson records:
“It came to pass that Bishop Mél conferred on Brigit the episcopal order, although it was only the order of repentance that she desired for herself. And it is then that MacCaille lifted up a veil over Brigit’s head ut ferunt periti; and hence Brigit’s successor is always entitled to have episcopal orders and the honor due to a Bishop.”
(note: MacCaille was likely a brother of Bishop Mel and a priest)
Another closely related version of the ordination of Brigid as Bishop comes from the early 15th c. Irish Book of Lismore:
“For humility Brigit stayed so that she might be the last to whom a veil should be given. A fiery pillar rose from her head to the roof-ridge of the church. Then said Bishop Mel: “Come, O holy Brigit, that a veil may be sained on thy head before the other virgins.” It came to pass then, through the grace of the Holy Ghost, that the form of ordaining a Bishop was read over Brigit. Mac-caille said, that a bishop’s order should not be conferred on a woman. Said Bishop Mel: “No power have I in this matter. That dignity hath been given by God unto Brigit, beyond every (other) woman.” Wherefore the men of Ireland from that time to this give episcopal honour to Brigit’s successor.”
In another early 15th century Life of Brigit, translated by Whitley Stokes that is very similar to the record in the Book of Lismore, we read:
“Brigit, and certain virgins with her, went to Bishop Mél, in Telcha Mide, to take the veil. Glad was he there at. For humbleness Brigit staid, so that she might be the last to whom the veil should be given. A fiery pillar arose from her head to the ridgepole of the church. Bishop Mél asked: ‘What virgin is there?’ Answered MacCaille: ‘That is Brigit,’ saith he. ‘Come thou, O holy Brigit,’ saith Bishop Mél, ‘that the veil may be sained on thy head before other virgins.’ It came to pass then, through the grace of the Holy Ghost, that the form of ordaining a bishop was read over Brigit. MacCaille said that ‘The order of a Bishop should not be (conferred) on a woman.’ Dixit Bishop Mél: ‘No power have I in this matter, inasmuch as by God hath been given unto her this honour beyond every woman.’ Hence, it is that the men of Ireland give the honour of Bishop to Brigit’s successor.”
It is wondrous how the Spirit of our living God works in ways we cannot dream or imagine! It is of great comfort to know that the Spirit can even work through our human foibles as in the reading of the wrong ordination rites to bring forth the good and glorious plans of God.
Bishop Brigid’s remains were first interred at her Kildare Church, but when the Viking raids began they were taken further inland for safety to Downpatrick, Ireland. She was buried with the remains of Bishop Patrick of Ireland and Bishop Columba of Ireland and Iona. Together, these three great Celtic patron saints and Bishops of Ireland are still keeping watch over their flock to this day.
For further reading on St. Brigid and other Celtic and Anglo-Saxon saints, www.saintsbridge.org.
In the final blog of the Reawakening our Origins series, Greg Valerio, founder of the Society of St. Columba, explores the relevance of St. Columba’s rhythm of prayer, work and reading for the Christian life. Given the chaos and corruptions of the world, the journey towards our true home in Christ requires us to start all over again.
(Editors Note: This is the second of a series of 3 which was originally posted at the St. Columba Blog and is reposted here with permission.)
It appears that monasticism , in its origins, should be viewed as having a prophetic role vis-a-vis the human city rather than simply as providing an escape route into an alternative, purified, universe.[1]
How we walk through this world has never been of more significance than it is today. If discipleship is communal and imitation is communion of the heart, the question of how we live this balanced life becomes a pressing question.
The beauty of the Church is to be found in the quality of the living stones from which it is fashioned. The spiritual governance of these living stones through prayer, work, reading was the daily rhythm/rule that St. Columba established for both cenobitic (communal) and eremitical (hermit) monastic living, ‘Three labours a day; prayer, work and reading’ (rule 15).
This rule of St. Columba provides a simple framework of life that assists the follower to focus on the core essentials in perfecting his or her Christian faith. The task for followers of Christ is to focus on the quality of our life in Christ. In doing so we become witnesses to a living holiness that cannot be replicated by a corrupt world. Holiness is a currency secularism cannot trade in, and for the follower of Christ it becomes a sign and symbol of our genuine freedom from the corruption that is so prevalent in the world system.
He (St. Columba) spent thirty-two years as an island soldier and could not let even an hour pass without giving himself to praying, or reading or writing or some other task.[2]
St. Columba led by example and the countless stories Adomnan tells of how this indigenous Apostle lived as a holy man, are testimony to the effectiveness of keeping things simple in your spiritual life.
Prayer – being nurtured in love.
Whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you (Matthew 6:6).
The Apostle Paul teaches us to ‘Pray without ceasing’ (1 Thessalonians 1:17). For those who follow Christ prayer is the primary vocation. It becomes the sweetest sustenance to our being and the bitterest taste to our stomachs when we forget. The world is the battleground of our soul and prayer is the only weapon the soldier of Christ is given by which to undertake this battle.
We must take this battle seriously, recognising that the world is full of distractions designed to lure us away from the source of our humanness. Prayer is the fulfillment of our human purpose and the liberation of a suffocating creation. St. Columba teaches us, ‘Be alone in a separate place, near a chief monastery (city), if your conscience is not prepared to be in common with the crowd’ (rule1). Being alone in prayer reveals our true nature, there is no other position under heaven when we are more truly ourselves than when we face God alone.
The Holy Spirit invites us, woes us, leads us willingly to a place of prayer. Setting aside a location to pray enables us to move to a physical place of no distraction. ‘Let a fast place with one door enclose you’ (rule 4) is St. Columba’s injunction to be in a place of zero distraction, a chance to give our Creator our full and undivided attention.
Prayer is not something we do, it is something we are.
Prayer is a request for what is good, offered by the devout of God. But we do not restrict this request simply to what is stated in words. We should not express our prayer merely in syllables, but the power of prayer should be expressed in the moral attitude of our soul and in the virtuous actions that extend throughout our life. This is how you pray continually — not by offering prayer in words, but by joining yourself to God through your whole way of life, so that your life becomes one continuous and uninterrupted prayer. — Basil the Great.
For the monastics the rule is a means by which the individual is perfected in faith, therefore let us use St. Columba as an inspiration, aspiring to pray continually in all things.
Work – being transformed by love.
Words are never adequate. The purpose of our life is to live out the mystery of the Holy Trinitarian community in all its fullness and work is part of that mysterious relationship. What we work at is both devotional and sacred. All we turn our hand to should reflect God’s holiness, and should never be valued according to financial reward. Work is one of the three daily labours upon which the Columban charism is founded and holds a unique transformational energy for revealing and creating that which is hidden (rule 15).
Work is not as the secular world would have us believe principally for servicing material comforts or paying off unsustainable forms of material consumption. Perhaps one of the biggest lies perpetrated by the voices of secular materialism is that work is principally transactional, time for money, rather than transformational, time with love. For God is love (1 John 4:8b) and God sustains all things (Hebrews 1:3).
For St. Columba perfect work retained a spiritual quality that promoted genuine tears of emotion and satisfaction (rule 27). One notable example of the spiritual nature of work comes when St. Columba was an old man, unable to do much manual labour, he would pray for the monks labouring in the fields. This prayer led to a spiritual refreshment described by one of the brothers as ‘like a wonderful fragrance, like all flowers gathered into one; and a heat like fire, not the fire of torment but somehow sweet. And I feel too a strange incomparable joy poured into my heart’ (VC I:37). This refreshment and joy was experienced by all the monks of the work party when St. Columba prayed for their physical health.
St. Paul focusses attention on work as a means by which we sustain our physical needs and to live in peace with our neighbours. The quality and value of our work is focused on providing for ourselves, family and the common weal of the wider community (Titus 3:8 & 3:14). Again we see the value of work is measured in its impact for God’s Kingdom of righteous and justice, not the amount of financial return we can enrich ourselves with.
Reading – being shaped by scripture.
Reading and its sibling study, recognise the importance of the mind in the formation of holiness. There can be no doubt that the discipline of reading and study was foundational to St. Columba and his community. Indeed the monastic way is a measurable journey into a deeper understanding of the scriptures, their relevance and centrality to life. Scripture was also foundational in both personal and communal pray. Praying the scriptures, memorising them and copying them was a daily ritual of the Columban family. Copying Psalm 34 was St. Columba’s very last activity. From the scriptorium he retired to the chapel to pray where he died in the arms of his servant and colleague Dairmait (VC III:23)
This immersion in reading and study was not only focussed on scripture, the library on Iona held many other sacred texts. Evagrius’s latin translation of the Life of St. Anthony and Sulpicius’s Life of St. Martin were well known throughout the Columban foundations. The Dialogues of Pope Gregory, including the Life of St. Benedict were also known and read.[3] We know from St. Columba’s early life in Ireland he got into trouble for secretly copying a Psalter by St. Jerome.
Illuminated manuscripts such as the Book of Kells, Durrow and the Lindisfarne Gospel all give a clear idea of the focus and dedication that all Columban foundations displayed when it came to reading, copying and decorating the Scriptures.
What is clear is that the scholastic devotion given to the reading of scripture and other religious texts demonstrated an intellectual inquiry that was both encouraged as well as dictated to all the monks who lived under under the protection of the monastic house (rule 5).
The monastic houses were therefore centres of learning, scholarly exploration, education and philosophical reasoning. There was no hint in their practice of shying away from growing in mind and understanding.
In the world the populous culture of personal opinion as truth (aped by significant sections of the modern western church) and a strong anti-intellectual rhetoric, is understandable when viewed against the backdrop of the deification of the mind since the (so called) enlightenment.
The pre-eminence of scientific reasoning as the arbiter of truth in the post enlightenment settlement of western society has left an existential void to the meaning of the human condition and a yearning for deeper spiritual meaning. Science has opened many wonderful doors of discovery to humanity, and created as many questions about our human condition as it has attempted to answer.
A Godless rationalism coupled with an a-moral economic philosophy has unleashed the demons of apocalyptic destruction upon the very creation itself. Abandoning God the Creator from our thinking is akin to walking towards a cliff edge wearing a blindfold on a moonless night – there is terminal danger with every step you take. However the notion of a reasoned, scholarly devotion to scripture and learning is both welcome and balancing for the growth of the follower of Christ, but only when equally yoked to devotional work and prayer. (W)holiness demands attention is given to prayer (the life of the Spirit), work (the engagement of the physical body) and reading (the expansion of the mind) in equal measure.
Starting Over Again.
We all dream of a pure church, a church not made with hands, a church that not only retains the presence of God but also embodies the very activity of God in its participants. The creation, the people of the land, the poor and disempowered all seek a church that is true to its original raison d’être. A purpose where the presence and activity of a Holy Creator God is made known by the quality of love lived out and expressed by the individual members of the Body of Christ one to another and welcoming of the stranger. It is the quality of our faith in Christ that sets us apart from a corrupted world system, not the eloquence of our words. This is the essential purpose of the monastic church – to be a place set aside in creation where holy souls can grow and holy communities can flourish.
Creation is the location for the rediscovery of an indigenous monasticism. Perhaps the climate crisis we now face as a species has helped us to focus on what was always our original mandate, namely to care for creation and live in harmony with all living things (Genesis 1:28-30). Our Celtic Christian ancestors understood this principle, their embracing of liminal geography and wilderness was their ascetic stance in relation to the world system. It is in the creational wilderness of mind, body and spirit that they found a pure love and joy in the undistracted presence of God.
This re-awakening of our origins will require nothing less than a starting all over again. It will take courageous men and women willing to pay the price of intentional detachment from the world order to begin to cast a future hope that has (w)holiness as its foundation. This is a movement towards simplicity of life, an acknowledgement of our need of creation and an embracing of humility and a child like faith.
St. Columba offers us a practical means by which to begin this journey. Through prayer, work and reading we can strip back the excesses in the Christian spiritual life and learn to focus on that which has eternal value.
For a complete copy of Reawakening our Origins, please click on the original blog.
[1] Philip Sheldrake. Spaces for the Sacred. (SCM Press: 2001), p.94.
[2] Adomnan of Iona. The Life of St. Columba. (trans.) Richard Sharpe. (Penguin Classics: 1995) p. 106.
[3] see Sharpe, in Adomnan’s Vite Columbae p.58-59.
I am currently reading John O’Donohue’s book The Four Elements and am delighting in his fresh approach to life and faith. In one of the blessings In Praise of Air, which he wrote not long before he died, he says:
In the name of the air,
The breeze
And the wind,
May our souls
Stay in rhythm
With eternal Breath.
It was this blessing that inspired my prayer above and has formed the focus for my prayers and meditations over the last week.
What does it mean to live a life in rhythm with Eternal Breath?
I have always loved writing and using breathing prayers, even more so since I listened to Richard Rohr talk about the name of God being breathed rather than spoken. The breath of God sustains us, yet we rarely acknowledge or live in the awareness of it. We are often unaware of our physical breath too unless it is interrupted by allergies, pollution or illness.
Becoming aware of our breathing can have a huge impact on our lives. Doctors recommend that we deliberately take deep breaths at regular intervals throughout the day to aerate our lungs. It relieves tension, rids our body of toxins, boosts our energy and strengthens our immune systems.
It requires intentionality.
As any experienced hiker or runner knows, we move more easily when we synchronize our steps to our breathing. Again this is often a deliberate action, especially when we are just learning to pace ourselves. We consciously take our steps in rhythm with our breaths. Living in synch with the Eternal Breath is just as intentional. We must regularly remind ourselves to breathe deeply of the presence of God and that means we need to learn to pace ourselves. That means pausing from busy lives, centering ourselves on the eternal presence and attending to the rhythm of our breathing.
Question: How much attention do you give your spiritual breathing? What do you do on a regular basis to make sure it is in synch with the Eternal Breath?
It means slowing down.
When we walk up a hill we know how out of condition we are if our breathing comes in short, painful gasps. Healthy hill climbing breathing is slow and regular.
I wonder at the spiritual analogy here. There is a tendency for us grab for God when we are on an uphill climb, facing pressures, challenges and anxieties in our life and faith. Unless we have been doing regular spiritual exercises, keeping our breath in synch with the Eternal Breath we find ourselves unprepared, gasping for the holy air that seems thinner and less life giving than it should be. We know we are in synch with the Eternal Breath when we are able to breathe in and out of the presence of God at all times, with long, slow breaths that nourish us deep within our souls.
Question: How healthy is your spiritual breathing? Think back to the last life stress you faced. What was the rhythm of your spiritual breathing like during that time?
It requires deep breathing exercises.
I have talked before about the fact that as we grow older we breathe more shallowly and need to learn to take deep breaths that fully aerate our lungs and provide the health benefits that only deep breathing provides.
I wonder if our spiritual lives follow the same pattern. The longer we follow Christ, the easier it is for us to take our spiritual practices for granted. They become stale, rote, unproductive of the spiritual depths that connect to the heart of God.We need to take time to breathe deeply, to replenish our resources and renew our spirits.
Tom and I have just returned from one of our quarterly prayer retreats, powerful deep breathing tools that help keep us in touch with God in a more intimate way. They enable us to restructure our lives and keep on focus with both our physical and spiritual disciplines.
Question: What are the deep breathing exercises your perform regularly to strengthen your spiritual muscles and maintain your life rhythm in synch with the Eternal Breath?
Listen to this beautiful poem by John O’Donohue. Allow it to enter your spirit and fill you with the Eternal Breath
Sitting in my office, gazing into my garden sanctuary, it would be easy to be disheartened today. The skies are gray, rain is falling, and the garden is still covered in a foot of snow and ice.
What happened to that amazing pallet of color splashed across the backyard? Now, dead sunflowers tower like brown skeletons, picked clean by birds and left as a barren reminder of a season past.
Dotted throughout this once abundant sacred garden are the steadfast ones: broccoli, Brussels sprouts, kale, and assorted herbs. Dried lavender spikes poke through the snow joining the still green spikes of rosemary. Everything else is either blanketed in snow or dead.
Yet with all of this death, I reframe my mind and discover hope. I know that just beneath the snow the soil teams with life. I know the “steadfast ones” will continue to produce through the winter months. A mysterious dance takes place in my garden sanctuary; death and life waltz before me, choreographed by the One who also orchestrates the song.
Ultimately, I embrace death for what it is: a renewing of the soil, a feeding of my subterranean friends that keep my garden healthy and nutrient rich. A reminder from God’s word… “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” Ecclesiastes 3:1
I’ve considered working toward a year-round garden. It’s possible, even here in the middle of the Cascade Range. But there’s something refreshing about rest. All this emphasis on production betrays a kind of sacred trust in the garden sanctuary. I need to learn from the rhythms of nature, the God-ordained seasons of birth, flourishing, abundance, death, rest and renewal.
Advent and Christmas, the beginning of the church year, points toward the cross… and to resurrection. On our way to Lent and Easter we pass through the season of Epiphany. Epiphany reminds us that God intends for the story of redemption to reach the ends of the earth. In Christ, God is reconciling all things (Col. 1:19-20). For me, the garden is a seasonal reminder of this deep spiritual truth.
I’m guilty of trying to make God in my own image, an image crafted for me by a society that has lost the art of rest. And I’m guilty of wanting to re-create the world around me, even the quiet places, into that same, hyper-productive image.
Ultimately it’s all a frenetic dance to avoid looking into the barren gardens of our souls, the dying, decaying life that must be embraced to grasp hold of real hope for today and the promise of life to come. A new beauty emerges as I gaze out the window; I begin to hear the music, to see the dance, and to enter into the celebration.
How are you entering the dance of God?
by Greg Valerio (Editors Note: This is the second of a series of 3 which was originally posted at the St. Columba Blog and is reposted here with permission.)
The Monastic Church was the earliest indigenous ecclesiology in Britain whose strength and dynamism was its simplicity of prayerful practice alongside a geographically liminal location in the cosmology of Gods created order. In today’s world, the idea of Church is often seen as a distraction to those whose natural tendency is towards contemplation, mystery and wisdom. Similarly the word monastic conjures imaginings of cloistered separation for the spiritual elite, hidden away from the daily lives of the great unwashed. For the executive styled career Christian, platform preachers and church leaders it can quickly become an idol at the heart of the narrative, a means by which we secure material wealth and maintain the gratification of public popularity. It is not the responsibility of human beings to build the church. Not something Jesus ever sanctioned. We must be clear, it is not our job to build the church, this is the purview of God alone. The followers of Christ are called to ‘strive first for the Kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well’ (Matthew 6:33). The Church is the by-product of this Kingdom focus.
When discussing the reawakening of a British & Irish monastic church I start from the understanding that ecclesiology is not a fixed social, cultural or theological position.The axiomatic passage on church building is of course Jesus’s proclamation over the man Peter, ‘you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church’ (Matthew 16:18a). What is instantly clear is that Jesus builds the church and that Peter is a human being and not a rock (either in character or temperament). Later in his life St. Peter recalls Jesus’s words, when he speaks of ‘living stones… being built into a spiritual house’ (1 Peter 2:5). St. Paul talks of a body, the Body of Christ (Romans 12:5 & 1 Corinthians 12:12) and bodies are not stone or walls, concepts or ideas, they are are precisely what we live in – namely the skin we are in. The Ekklēsia (called out ones) of God are human beings, physical bodies, being formed in purpose and will to that of God the Creator as revealed in and through Jesus. The authenticity of the Body of Christ should never be about the quality of buildings, organisational political structure, size of congregation or commercial success. These things are helpful, but not defining as they are products of socio-economic conditioning and context. The Body of Christ is only ever to be judged on the quality of the love (John 15:12-17) expressed between the bodies that inhabit it and where those bodies choose to locate themselves. It is as simple as that.
The question then arises what do we do with our bodies and where do we choose to place them? These questions are at the heart of a monastic church ecclesiology. The monastic church is a place that creates the social and creational context in which the individual can be formed in the likeness of Christ. This spiritual formation occurs in three principle ways, through discipleship, imitation and location. So is there an ecclesiology that harnesses the strength of a rooted spirituality, an inclusive communitarian edge and creational harmony?
Discipleship in its simplest terms means to follow after, to learn from and to be taught. We learn by example and clearly for Jesus the call to come ‘follow me’ (John 1:43) was at the very heart of His life’s work. This discipleship however should not be interpreted as primarily evangelistic (if we understand evangelism as a process of converting individual people). Yoder summarises the sociological traits of discipleship as three fold,[1]
- A visible social structure or fellowship (Matthew 10:1-4).
- A sober decision regarding the cost of discipleship (Luke 14:25-33).
- A clearly defined lifestyle that is distinct from the world (Matthew 5:1-14).
Jesus was intentional about the establishing of an alternative society or fellowship that was in direct contrast to the existing system of the world and established governance. During His final meal, Jesus speaks plainly about the essential difference between the kingdoms of the world and the Kingdom of God, being that of servanthood rather than power and control (Luke 22:25). The Kingdom of God is the in breaking of a new social order of love expressed as service and sacrifice, not the revolutionary overturning, or coalescing to, the existing political and social structures of the world.
Monastic disengagement from the start was a social and political statement as well as a theological one. We cannot overlook the vital importance in the fourth century of ‘social meaning’. The presence of heavenly power on earth expressed in the monastic life was closely related to an ascetic stance to ‘this world’ – represented by disentangling oneself from the conventional social and economic obligations in the favour of reshaping of human relations.[2]
This visible counter-cultural community is established in lifestyle, a lifestyle that revolves around the primary commandment, ‘that you love one another as I have loved you’ (John 15:12).
Imitation of Christ is at the very centre of all the monastic traditions and the heart of a Columban ecclesiology and expectation. ‘Be naked in your imitation of Christ and the Evangelists’ (rule 2) is the injunction that follows on from ‘being alone in a separate place’ (rule 1). Imitation is often understood as the copying of Jesus in all aspects of lifestyle and it cannot be denied that this aspirational devotion over the centuries has produced many inspirational exemplars of transformational holiness. What imitation cannot be understood to mean however is that every disciple of Christ should live an identikit lifestyle to Jesus. Jesus was not married, was a carpenter, was itinerant etc. The very fabric of life itself would be out of balance if every Christian copied Jesus in this fashion. If discipleship is an outward expression of an in breaking Kingdom, imitation is the process of inward formation that leads to that out breaking of the Kingdom becoming a material reality (Luke 17:20-21). The imitation of Christ is authenticated in our orientation towards the power structures of the world. Are we transformed (internally and externally) by the authority and values of God or the authority of the world value system? Imitation of Christ is a transformation that leads to the realisation and fulfillment of our true nature. A nature created in the Image of God. Imitation is participation, partaking, abiding, corresponding with the very nature of who God is. ‘Be holy for I am Holy’ (Leviticus 19:2), and ‘be perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect’ (Matthew 5:48) captures the very lifeblood of what it means to be created in the image of God. At this point we must concede failure and our need of grace. No one is perfect in holiness, yet our desire for union with God leads us to climb the ladder of holiness each and every day and when we fall off, start all over again.
Actions without internal concordance swiftly become meaningless religious observance. The heart and soul of our humanity must be liberated from worldly values, so our lifestyle and actions are authentic expressions of our faith (James 2:26). Matthew’s beatitudes, not only focus on external behaviours, they also focus us on the inner world of love, peace, reconciliation, equality, inclusiveness and being free in our hearts from hatred, materialism, revenge, violence, segregation and greed. St. Paul captures a high point of Christian theology when he writes, ‘There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:28).
From the inner world of intentional imitation flows the required detachment from the corrosive worldly values that would have us formed in the image of all that is destructive to humanity and creation.
At the core of discipleship and community is a spirit shaped by Holiness that is free to love without reward or notoriety. The Utopia that is the Kingdom of God is fashioned first in the heart and soul of each follower. St. Columba’s call to imitate Christ and the Evangelists (rule 2), is so we are able to confess with integrity that the ruler of this world ‘has no power over me’ (John 14:30, 19:11).
Location is an indispensable positioning in order to mature in Christ. What is unequivocal in the historical analysis of the British & Irish monastic church was that liminal creation was the physical location for their ecclesial settlements. These liminal wildernesses in turn actively shaped and formed the monastic life in Christ.
God’s indwelling spirit is not merely in humankind or even in animate objects. The Spirit dwells in all things without exception. In that sense the elements such as earth and water are powerful spiritual forces because they have within them the creative energy that is God’s own.[3]
On the monastic island of Iona, St. Columba has a word of fore-knowledge that a pilgrim from Ireland would be blown off course and arrive on the island exhausted and near death. St. Columba instructs one of the monks to wait for the unfortunate to arrive, to take him to one of the monasteries guest rooms, give him hospice until he is fully recovered and able to continue his onward journey. This pilgrim turns out to be a Heron, blown off course in a storm and it is significant the bird is afforded the same hospitality that a human guest would have been (VC 1:48). In this simple prophetic encounter we witness a charismatic creational balance at work in the life of the monastic house.
Those early adherents of British monasticism sought places of creational liminality that afforded the minimal amount of secular distraction and maximised the immanence and transcendence of God in creation. Theirs was a spirituality that embraced wilderness as home.
There can be little doubt that early British and Irish Christians built on the tenants of desert monasticism that included;
- Separation from worldly values of empire
- An embracing of ascetic practices
- A creational worldview
- A focus on an imitation of Christ in all aspects of life.
This indigenous desert in the ocean asceticism was rooted and emerged from within the soil of these islands and uniquely found expression upon the waters that surround them. It recognised that although monastic principles espoused in the Egyptian and Syrian deserts[4] may be inspirational, these principles cannot be imposed from above, they emerge from beneath our feet, from the very soil on which we tread and the waters we sail on.
All of creation proceeds from God, all of creation participates in God, all of creation returns to God – John Scottus Eriugena.
Creation, of which humanity is uniquely a part, is an active participant in our spirituality and ecclesiology, not a passive recipient. To speak of the whole of life as being (w)holy is a theological confession few would disagree with. Yet the challenge comes in living a life that treats all of creation as Holy. To live an intentionally (w)holy life is the most difficult and challenging vocation in today’s aggressively secularised Britain. A privatised modern secularism and liberal economic dogma demand life is structured into manageable monetised and politicised components. This dystopian segregation fails to recognise the primary creational mandate that all of life is sacred and an inter-dependent whole under God. Our spiritual maturity is dependent on a right relationship with creation, and creation needs a (w)holy people to work in partnership to fulfill God’s expectation for salvation.
The final blog article in this series will explore the Columban charism of prayer, work and reading as a way of focusing on the essential practices of the Christian walk.
For a complete copy of Reawakening our Origins, please click on title at the original blog.
[1] John Howard Yoder. Politics of Jesus. (Eerdmans: 1972), p.47
[2] Philip Sheldrake. Spaces for the Sacred. (SCM Press: 2000), p.91-92.
[3] Philip Sheldrake. Living Between Worlds: Place and Journey in Celtic Spirituality. (Darton, Longman & Todd: 1995), p.82.
[4] For a good summary of the theological and spiritual link between desert monasticism of the fourth century and its influence on British and Irish Monastic practice, see chapter 2 of The Church in Early Irish Society, Kathleen Hughes.
As an Amazon Associate, I receive a small amount for purchases made through appropriate links.
Thank you for supporting Godspace in this way.
When referencing or quoting Godspace Light, please be sure to include the Author (Christine Sine unless otherwise noted), the Title of the article or resource, the Source link where appropriate, and ©Godspacelight.com. Thank you!