Untying Knots

There was once a very holy man who lived as a hermit in the woods.[1]  Day in and day out, he sought the Lord in simplicity, solitude and prayer.  Yet as his reputation for wise counsel grew, he was often visited by those seeking guidance.

One day, the saintly hermit was stirred from contemplation by a knock on his door.  A young disciple of the Lord, who was very fond of the holy man, asked this question:

           

“How do I deal with opposition from the people?” the young man asked.  Nicholas tied a knot in his rope and asked the disciple to untie the knot.  He was able to do so with ease.             

“Now do the same with the problems you’re facing with the people,” Nicholas instructed.

But his young disciple protested, “But it is not as effortless as that.”

Nicholas responded, “I would not be able to untie this knot in the rope either if we both pulled on each end at the same time.  Yet that is always the way people try to resolve their problems.”[2]

Untying knots.  The wisdom of such a tale can apply to so many situations.  I wonder how many Protestants and Catholics find themselves in a never-ending tug-of-war, pulling on one end of the rope only to find the knot of tension growing larger between them?  Perhaps it was a wound suffered at the hands of “the other” that made you pick up the rope and start tugging from the beginning?  You might find yourself in a relationship today, perhaps a family member or co-worker, where tensions are high and reconciliation seems distant.

Have you ever thought of dropping the rope and moving, with tenderness and mercy, toward the other?  What might happen if we cooled our infatuation with being “right” and spent our energy on building right relationship?  Think about it for a second.  I’m sure you can come up with a person or group or situation that is tying knots in your stomach today. 

Jesus reminds us, “If you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar.  First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift.”[3]  Right relationship with God is intimately bound with right relationship with one another.  Throw yourself on the altar of humility.  Be reconciled with your brother or sister.  Drop your end of the rope and embrace the reconciliation that only God can bring.  God is untying knots already.

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[1] This story is drawn from the life of Nicholas de Flüe, 15^th century hermit and patron saint of Switzerland.  After distinguishing himself as a fearless soldier, de Flüe felt the call to leave his worldly life and devote himself to God through contemplation and the ascetic life.  His reputation for holiness was widespread throughout Europe and his wise counsel has been recognized by both Protestants and Catholics for contributing to the enduring national unity in Switzerland.

[2] This humble figure was brought to my attention by Melinda Prunty, friend and current Director of Youth Ministry in the Diocese of Owensboro, KY.  Melinda’s master’s thesis, a beautiful reflection entitled “Ecumenism Today: Untying Knots,” was inspired by this story which she discovered in the work of French Dominican, Yves Congar.  See Yves Congar O.P., After Nine Hundred Years: The Background of the Schism Between the Eastern and Western Churches (New York: Fordham University Press, 1959), 78-79.

[3] Mt 4:23.

The Eucharist: A Sign of Unity and Division

The following post was written by my dear friend and theological interlocutor, Andre Lesperance[1]:

Early in the fall semester each year I ask my new crop of students what they would do if they knew they only had 24 hours to live.  This happens to be quite the effective icebreaker.  The question, if taken seriously, is a window into our most important values, desires, fears and hopes.

The question also sets up one of our first units of study.  Jesus so happens to be someone who knew his death was imminent.  What did he do in his last hours?  How did he choose to spend his time?

The answer, according to the four Gospels, is that he hosted a dinner with his closest friends.  Yet the goal of this dinner was not merely to cling to the past or relish their few remaining moments together.  Jesus was laying out a plan for the road ahead.  He “took bread, and after he had given thanks, broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”[2]  After the death and resurrection of Jesus, the early Christian community would experience how the presence of the risen Christ “was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.”[3] 

It is unfortunate that the very ritual given by Jesus in his last hours to foster unity and strength for mission among his followers has been the subject of countless debates and divisions.  This is not to deny the real and important theological issues at stake, of course. Such heated debates at least testify to the importance of Jesus’ words and actions, as his followers struggle to understand them as best they can.

Yet aren’t the times ripe for building bridges once again where reformation-era debates have left gaping holes and wounded hearts?

At a lived pastoral level, we could start bridge building by suspending our initial assumptions about the other’s theology of the bread and the wine. As a Catholic, I know that those in my own tradition can often be guilty of such presumption—as I have been at times.  Since Catholicism most boldly asserts the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, we can all too easily assume every other church’s belief to be merely a symbolic remembering of the past.

On the other hand, perhaps Protestants can all too easily dismiss the Catholic view of the Eucharist as superstitious, divorced from the fundamentals of a heart surrendered to God.  And yet, how many Catholics corroborate this impression by their silent anti-witness of a life untransformed by Jesus, while remaining faithful—even adamant—in their adherence to weekly communion?  Indeed, it would seem that for many of us Catholics, the words of Jesus to Philip would equally apply to ourselves: “Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me?” (John 14:9).

While I stand in full communion with the Catholic Church and happily assent to all of its teachings on the Eucharist, I find it crucial to approach with reverence and often silence the various Protestant attitudes toward the bread and the wine.  As a starting point for doing so, as well as for navigating some of the tensions between liberals and conservatives within Catholicism, I find the following excerpt from Fr. Ronald Rolheiser immensely helpful.  It captures some of the magnitude of this beautiful mystery that we cannot reduce to exclusive territorial skirmishes. Rolheiser reflects,

There are lots of views on the Eucharist:

·      For some it is a meal, for others it is a sacrifice

·      For some it is a ritual act, sacred and set apart, for others it is a community gathering, the more mess and kids there the better.

·      For some it is a deep personal prayer, for others it is a communal worship for the world.

·      For some its very essence is a coming together, a communion, of those united in a single denominational faith, while for others part of its essence is its reaching out, its innate imperative to wash the feet of those who are different from ourselves.

·      For some it is a celebration of sorrow, a making present of Christ’s suffering and thus the place where we can break down, for others it is the place to celebrate joy and sing alleluia.

·      For some it is a ritual remembrance, a making present of the historical events of Jesus’ dying, rising, ascending, and sending the Holy Spirit, for others it is a celebration of God’s presence with us today.

·      For some it is a celebration of the Last Supper, something to be done less frequently, for others it is God’s daily feeding of his people with a new manna, Christ’s body, and is something to be done every day.

·      For some it is a celebration of reconciliation, a ritual that forgives and unites, for others unity and reconciliation are pre-conditions for its proper celebration…

·      For some it is understood to make present the real, physical body of Christ, for others it is understood to make Christ present in a real but spiritual way.

·      Some call it the Lord’s Supper, others call it the Eucharist, others call it the Mass.

Who’s right? In truth, the Eucharist is all of these things, and more. It is like a finely-cut diamond twirling in the sun, every turn giving off a different sparkle. It is multivalent, carrying different layers of meaning, some of them in paradoxical tension with others…

There is no adequate explanation of the Eucharist for the same reason that, in the end, there is no adequate explanation for love, for embrace, and for the reception of life and spirit through touch. Certain realities take us beyond language because that is their very purpose. They do what words cannot do. They also are beyond what we can neatly nail down in our understanding.

And that is true of the Eucharist. Any attempt to nail down its full meaning will forever come up short because it will always eventually get up and walk away with the nail![4]

What does the bread and the wine mean to you?

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[1] Andre Lesperance teaches theology at Marquette University High School in Milwaukee, Wisconsin where he lives with his wife, Jackie, and three beautiful children.

[2] 1 Cor 11:24

[3] Luke 24:35

[4] Ronald Rolheiser, “The Many Faces of the Eucharist,” accessed on June 10, 2013 at http://www.ronrolheiser.com/columnarchive/?id=410

Inconvenient Truths: The Light of the "Dark" Ages

“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael's question was cynical perhaps, but nonetheless widespread (Jn 1:46).  For many, particularly if you were raised in the Protestant tradition, the same question might be asked of the church in the Middle Ages.  The scandal of three popes (formerly referred to as the Western Schism), the proliferation of religious wars, and the widespread corruption of the clergy cast an enormous shadow on the community which professed its allegiance to Jesus, the Light of the world.  Describing this period as the “Dark Ages,” in certain aspects, has its warrant.

Many see the scintillating scandals of the Middle Ages as proof enough for what they see as a wholesale abandonment of the gospel and a wanton neglect of the way of life modeled after Jesus Christ.  In this vein, it is easy to simply write off the Catholic Church and dismiss about one thousand years of church history as a spiritual/theological/ecclesial "wandering in the desert."

Yet history has a funny way of revealing beautiful and inconvenient truths that confound our overly simplistic meta-narratives.  Honest historical inquiry unveils not only the inherent fallenness of the church but also the enduring faithfulness and pastoral innovation that bear the authentic marks of the Savior.  A walk through church history reveals a strong and curious light, the promised presence of Christ that never left the people of God (Mt 28:20).

One might be surprised, for example, to learn that Jim Rayburn wasn’t the first to intuit the pastoral initiative to “meet them where they’re at” and “earn the right to be heard.”  As the 12^th century experienced the rapid rise of urban centers across Europe, new modes of apostolic life emerged in the Catholic Church to respond to this seismic cultural shift.  Surely, silence and solitude remained critical to the spiritual life and monastic communities had their place, but many Catholic Christians began to ponder how their passion to follow in Christ’s footsteps might be played out in new and creative ways within the hustle and bustle of Europe’s bourgeoning cities.

Enter the Dominicans and Franciscans (and later the Carmelites and Augustinians).  These devoted followers of Christ saw the pressing needs of the common people and were inspired to bring the light of Christ into the grungy darkness of medieval cities.  Like the God of the Incarnation who they served, Franciscan friars and Dominican priests “moved into the neighborhood” and earned the right to be heard by living amongst the people in friendship and solidarity.[1]

Furthermore, the religious meetings of these new mendicant orders were often held outside the liturgical setting of Mass.  These dynamic and animated preachers attracted large numbers of people who had grown tired of the daily grind and who were hungry for a new word of hope.  It seems like these radical Christians had a penchant for proclaiming the gospel with a keen eye on culture.  This is all starting to sound strangely familiar.

By no means do I wish to present this as a race, with the Catholics “getting there first.”  There is not even a hint of triumphalism in this.  I do, however, wish to establish a longstanding continuity between the Catholic tradition and those spiritual-pastoral insights that we so highly value in Young Life.  Who knows, maybe Rayburn himself, in his study of church history, stumbled upon the 13^th century mendicant orders and was inspired to inaugurate a similar movement amidst the equally swirling dynamics of adolescent youth culture today? 

What ever the case, we detect together, even amidst the shadowy eclipse of the Dark Ages, a ray of light which continues to inspire the whole people of God – Protestants and Catholics alike – to shine like a city on a hill (Mt 5:14) and proclaim the luminous message of Jesus Christ to all peoples. 

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[1]  Leopold Clueckert, O. Carm., Desert Springs in the City, Darien, IL: Carmelite Media, 2012, pp.20-21.

Wary of Worry

It has been said that “anxiety is nothing but repeatedly re-experiencing failure in advance.”  Read that one a couple times and let it sink in.  Anxiety.  Worry. It is as commonplace as breathing and we live with it as unconsciously as our lungs exchange carbon dioxide for oxygen.  It is so common as to occupy our thoughts, our ambitions, our attractions, our aversions, and we may be little aware of its presence in our lives much less its effects.

I was in my thirties before it dawned on me that I had a profound fear of failure.  Who knows why, I had never really experienced any significant failures.  But there it was nonetheless.  Of course this fear was cloaked by a series of successes that gave the illusion that my life was a gracefully unfolding narrative of ease, certainty, and inner freedom.  I had worked hard, studied hard, stayed focused, got lucky a few times, and was livin' the dream.  Or was I?

Beneath that thin veneer, I'd have to admit that that manifest destiny of success was only a mirage.  Under the surface I was just as uncertain and anxious as the next guy. Driven less by inner freedom than a fear of failing, I continued on through life, doing the right things, collecting imaginary trophies along the way, wondering why each new achievement couldn't sustain my ego beyond the world's applause.  

And I suppose it has always been that way, even in Jesus’ time.  Jesus looked lovingly at Martha's busy preparations and said, "Martha, Martha you are worried and anxious about many things"(Lk 10:42).  Makes me wonder if Martha too had such a complex.  What failure was she constantly repeating in advance that made her so anxious?  Under the surface of so much productivity, what drove this perpetual motion, this unrelenting busyness?

Without discarding the value of hard work, Jesus kindly reminds us, "Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her"(Lk 10:42).  That "good portion," I believe, is the peace that "transcends understanding"(Ph 4:7), a peace that the world cannot give (Jn 14:27), a peace that is not to be attained through achievement but received by the meek as pure gift (Ps 37:11). 

Take a moment to examine your own heart.  What is weighing on you?  What worries are you unable to shake?  What are you anxious about? We really have nothing to fear.  God has won the victory.  So throw your anxieties to the wind, and repeatedly re-experience the glory of Christ that is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

 “Do not worry about anything . . .”

Philippians 4:6

Young Life Summit on Ministering To and With Catholics

The inaugural Young Life Catholic Summit commenced this week with a prayer from St. Francis of Assisi, a heartfelt appeal that this humble saint presented to our Lord over six centuries ago:

Most High,

glorious God,

enlighten the darkness of my heart

and give me

true faith,

certain hope,

and perfect charity,

sense and knowledge,

Lord,

that I may carry out

Your holy and true command.[1]

This sacred plea represents the same simplicity, clarity and authenticity of a more contemporary prayer voiced by yet another determined visionary some 536 years later, a prayer which gave birth to a parallel movement to renew the heart of the church:

Oh that I could just let God

work out His life in me.[2]

This was the prayer of Jim Rayburn, offered in 1941, the year in which the mission of Young Life was founded.  Who would have thought that this winsome evangelist with Texas swagger would have anything to do with this venerated Catholic friar from Assisi?  Yet this spirit of humility, simplicity and evangelical (small ‘e’) zeal was powerfully present at the YL Catholic Summit held this week in Colorado Springs. 

Imagine a room full of Protestants and Catholics - all educated, men and women of passionate faith and mission-tested talent – coming together to discuss Young Life, the Catholic Church, and the vision of reaching the lost.  What comes to mind?  The word that immediately pops into my head is… friction! 

Yet there was none to be found.   These men and women of God came together with open hearts and loving kindness.  These brothers and sisters quickly came to understand that they were not strangers but fellow sojourners on the humble road of discipleship.  What happened in Colorado, in the shadows of Pikes Peak, was a profound step forward for the kingdom of God and a testament to the unitive power alive right now in Young Life.[3]

Their spirit has set into motion a movement which has the power to heal the painful wounds of division, harness the energy of collaborative mission, and change the future for both Young Life and the Catholic Church.  A national strategic plan of evangelization to/with Catholics, written endorsement at the highest levels, and a commitment to train every Young Life staff person to honor and celebrate the faith of our Catholic brothers and sisters while calling them to ever-deeper levels of conversion in Christ – these are things that I wasn’t even dreaming about when this work began 9 months ago. 

We have a long road ahead of us and, like Thomas Merton once noted, we “cannot know for certain where it will end,” but we can be sure that our desire to please the Lord, our commitment to carrying out God’s holy and true command, and our desire to let God work out His life in us, does in fact please Him.[4]

A view of the summit from the Summit.

(Pikes Peak, 14,114 ft.)

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            [1]  Francis of Assisi, “Prayer before the Crucifix,” Cf. L3S 13, Barcelona’s Biblioteca Central, Codex 665, dated 1405/06.

            [2]  A journal entry of Jim Rayburn, Jr., written March 6, 1941.

[3] The summit was held in the shadows, not only of Pikes Peak, but a soaring rock formation in the Garden of the Gods, which, illuminated by the glow of the setting sun, presents the stunning profile of two camels kissing.  The property of our gracious hosts is located in the resort by the same name.   

[4] Thomas Merton, the great Trappist monk, contemplative activist and ecumenical luminary, once prayed, “My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me.  I cannot know for certain where it will end. . .  But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.  And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. . .”

Tough Questions, Real Answers

Jim Rayburn, the founder of Young Life, was fond of reminding staff to “major in the majors.”  What I think he meant was that in Young Life’s mission to teenagers, it should focus on the most essential aspects of the Christian message, teaching young people what it means to meet the person of Jesus Christ and follow him.  Surely the universal church concerns itself with many other issues, but Rayburn wanted Young Life to remain committed to the “heart” of the gospel.

Does the Catholic Church beat with the same heart? Is it majoring in the same majors?  Does it preach the same gospel?  Or is it teaching another religion altogether?  In this exclusive interview with Pope Francis, these critical questions are addressed head on.[1]  Is it about tradition?  Moral change?  What about merits or good works?  What really separates a true Christian from a nominal one? 

These are questions that many people are asking as this work to bridge the gap between Young Life and the Catholic Church continues.  These are questions I have asked myself.  As for the answers?  Take the next four minutes and hear it directly from the pope’s mouth (click on the video below).  This is one of the most incredible pieces I’ve ever seen:

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            [1]  This interview by Alejandro Rodriguez, president of YWAM Argentina, was conducted before Jorge Bergoglio was elected pope on March 13, 2013.

Sanctus in Seattle

What do you get when you take the Young Life model, tailor it for Catholics and plop it down in one of the most secularized parts of the country?[1]  In a word, Sanctus.  Last week I met with Catholic youth ministers, priests, parishioners and Young Life staff in Seattle, Washington.  What drew me there was a powerful movement of Catholics who have taken up the call to go where kids are, build authentic relationships, and “earn the right to be heard” about the greatest love story ever told. 

Sound familiar?  You bet.  The vision for Sanctus was inspired by the tried and true methods of incarnational evangelization honed by Young Life to reach “every kid, everywhere, for eternity.”  For over 70 years, Young Life leaders have cared enough about teenagers to show up in their world, engage them on their turf, and develop enduring relationships which convey the presence and compassion of Jesus.  Our founder, Jim Rayburn, was completely sold out for these labor-intensive methods because he was convinced that they are the only way to reach disinterested teens.

Amy Nash is equally convinced.  “What Young Life does in reaching teens for Christ is miraculous!  The young people of the Catholic Church are in dire need for relational evangelism.  There is such a great harvest, but the workers are too few!  We are training up college-aged students to be a living witness of Jesus to kids – especially those in the Catholic schooling system.”

Nash is the architect and director of Sanctus, an approach to reaching and retaining the more than 80% of Catholic teens who are leaving the Church every year.  As a committed Catholic, youth minister and mother of two, Amy isn’t satisfied with those statistics.  “I want this cycle of loosing kids to change before my kids are teens.  I need to know that someone – other than me – is going to come after them.  It’s so exciting how God’s Spirit is stirring in Seattle to reach the lost… we’re praying He brings others around this mission so it’ll spread across the nation.”  

Nash knows that spending time with young people and building real relationships is the centerpiece of evangelization, not simply because it was the way Jesus did it (if that wasn’t enough), but because she’s seen it work in the lives of thousands of teens.  Where?  Young Life.  Amy loves Young Life because she has experienced it first hand – as a Young Life kid, a Young Life leader, and a Young Life staff person.  And she believes those same methods can be effective in reanimating the core of Catholic faith in Seattle teens.  “Jesus is revealing his relentless heart for Catholic teens, and our teens are desperate for a personal and real encounter with Christ.  They need authentic, Christ-centered relationships.  They need to be pursued.”

And now, Nash is putting those methods to work in the heart of Seattle.  Drawing the collaboration of Catholic parishes, Catholic high schools, and local Young Life staff, Nash hopes to develop a culture of discipleship where young people are awakened in their faith, inspired by the love of Jesus and committed to serving their church and world.   In Catholic terms, it is about presenting anew the heart of the Catholic tradition and the foundation of the “new evangelization” exhorted by Pope John Paul II.  And what is that heart and foundation of Catholicism?  A dynamic and personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

Ministry models like Sanctus represent an important step in the relationship between Young Life and the Catholic Church. Youth workers like Nash are showing that partnership and collaboration create the best environment for kids to encounter Jesus Christ and grow in their faith.

If you’re inspired by Nash’s work and want to learn more about Sanctus, please feel free to contact her at:

     Amy Nash – Director of Sanctus Ministries

     amyn@stlukecp.org

     206-372-8371

Amy Nash (center) investing in college students by hiking in the Cascades.
Both students, now graduated, are in full-time ministry.

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            [1]  Seattle is the third least religious city in the United States, according to the Association of Statisticians of American Religious Bodies.  And what city takes the “top” prize?  Portland, Oregon, the other major hub of the Pacific Northwest.