on Preaching: an excoriation and exhortation

Preaching in the sacred liturgies of the church is a sacred task: to break open, to reveal, the meaning of the sacred symbol-words, and to encourage, to inspire, their embrace. It is not the time to exercise ego. Indeed, as the essay that proceeds this pounds out, any thing, any minutia, that saps of ego is desecratory of the sacred.  One may need briefly to relate the chosen text to the present time. One may summarily note the anxiety of sequestration due to a pandemic as an introduction into addressing the anxiety felt by the disciples after the execution of their leader, but it is not the time to prattle on about your missing of travel, family, or outings. Preaching is never the time to talk about oneself. If one wishes to share with one’s fellow congregants and spiritual charges from among the details of one’s life, the time to do so is in some social setting, not the sacred liturgy. Where in scripture do we read of Jesus nattering on to the crowds about how he feels? The Apostle Paul is not shy about details of his life, its blessings and woes, but Paul is writing letters to congregations, not engaged in sacred ritual.

If one cannot resist the urge to talk of self, of one’s talents, hobbies, family and friends, travels and travails, then one needs to resign one’s position as preacher. If one can do neither, then cut out your tongue, open your skull and rip out your cerebrum, and lest you be tempted to sign something, cut off also your hands, for you have disserved the sacred task given you. While I will grant that you well might be a good-willed, pleasant, and personable sort, when it comes to the execution of the sacred task entrusted to you to open the Word of God to the people of God you are as dense as and as dumb as a cabbage. Go! Slither away, useless, tiresome servant. I cannot sit silent while the church of God is assailed by ignorami and the ignominious.

If one is to open the Word of God, one needs to begin with opening it, uncovering it. It is an act of revelation. What means the symbol? It is only here, in the midst of proclamation and celebration, in the midst of the enclosure of sacred time and space, that the Word can be so dis-robed and elevated without either secularization or desecration. Two items come here into play. There is a need for some degree of exegesis. The scriptures emerge out of a society and culture foreign to the present in both time and temperament. In this regard one needs set the sacred words in a context wherein culture can speak to culture. This exegetical exercise gives way to the second item necessitated: the uncovering of the depth meaning of the sacred within the sacred terms. One cannot in preaching talk of Jesus’ dying for sin, rising, and ascending into heaven as literal or historical events. They refer to spiritual realities, psychic truths, and have, therefore, never been literally true or historical happenings. One needs to explain the psychic, the religious, the spiritual reality pointed to by such terms as propitious death, resurrection, ascent into heaven, sitting at the right hand of God, and the sending of God’s Spirit upon all flesh. These terms, when untethered from literalism, release their potential to speak of the soul’s suffering, its hope, its faith, its capacity to open itself to creativity, to the integrity of creativity’s thrust. To preach one must explain the words of a culture foreign to the present, and one must explain the symbol-words of a psychology, a spirituality, a soul-science to the present. One must then inspire openness to that summoned spiritual journey both in inner reflection and community life.

The breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup are sacred symbols that replicate this sacred breaking open of the Word and the sharing of its Spirit. No minister would dare speak of self in rehearsing the words of institution or in the distribution of the consecrated elements. Why then is preaching taken as a ground for the entertainment of one’s own ego and the literal hiding away of that Spirit which is the essence of meaning? The entirety of the sacred rituals is to open man to the meaningfulness of creation, of the life we share with, not simply this world, but the cosmos. The soul is not the ego—and we are all delinquent here of confusion even to the point of wanting not so much soul to have life eternal as for ego to go on forever. Soul is something we are given, something in which we share. It is life. Ego is something we make up to navigate us through life. We are answerable for ego, for what we make. We are more answerable for that with which we are entrusted—life, and its manifest in us, the soul. Ego is merely one facet of what we make of soul. Indeed, we even dishonour soul by speaking thusly, as if it were something we have and can manipulate. Soul makes us, intends to make us, and thus we speak of God as the father of souls, as Soul, as Spirit. If we heed not within the voice of soul, the voices of soul, for God himself speaks of self as “Us”, then we get lost in the everyday world (the “flesh” as scripture would say), and confuse soul with ego, id and shadow with sin, super-ego and anima with grace, and in that drag heaven into the mud, the dust and tears of man thinking he can be like unto God without honouring, without living the harmony intended for man with man and man with nature. Life is intentional, that is, freely creative. It is not a matter of pitting good against evil, you against me, we against them. It is about finding the propitious way forward gracefully—be it toward a symbol-notion of a Jerusalem, a Sion, a Pentecost, or more simply a creative and caring way to make today and tomorrow resilient, livable for all. In the founding narrative creation proceeds one day at a time by Spirit and speaking Word, by empowered and undisclosed word. Creativity is always in abeyance, always hovering above the dark and chaotic, unless meaning, meaningfulness, is disclosed: “Let there be light!”

Let them that preach in the church put aside self, and preach simply the truth of both the Spirit and the Word entrusted to it as its life, its soul, lest creativity find another body to enliven, and the church suffocate in the “flesh”, in the tomb of literalism it has failed to open.

 

 

Posted in on Liturgy | Comments Off on on Preaching: an excoriation and exhortation

Psychotherapeutic Drama: rebranding ritual

Preamble

Does ritual need to be rebranded? No, and Yes. It does not require a new name, but it does require a new understanding by them in the sanctuary, chancel, and pew, and by them that wag their heads and run at the very thought of anything that might reek of church. Of these last, there are multitudes. Why there are multitudes is a question they inside the church need ask seriously, and answer seriously, remembering one normally will relate to that which is shown to be relevant. I have felt obliged to italicize above because the norm for humanity seems to be regressing. Access to education and information have not made the masses more intelligent or sapient. Many ingest without digesting. Many more simply peck at bits and pieces like birds and regurgitate whatsoever they have swallowed. Further, there is the regrettable ignorance of them charged to lead the ritual enactments of the church. I am certain most are of the best intentions and selfless about them. Good intentions do not constitute professionalism. If one is charged with the “cure of souls” one needs to be competent in that arena. Spiritual malpractice is not a spurious notion. Continue reading

Posted in on Etiquette for the soul, on Liturgy | Comments Off on Psychotherapeutic Drama: rebranding ritual

The Question of Immortality, its Nature and Loci

An offering for the feast of St  Anne in loving memory of my parents, who first took me to her shrine at Beaupre, and of Catherine, Josephine, and Matilda, my grandmothers

Is there something about the human that endures after death? If there is, what is its nature? If there is, are this life’s inequalities, moral triumphs, and moral failures therein addressed? The object of this endeavour is not to feign divinity and provide answers, merely to espy Western culture’s more notable ideas concerning immortality and note the questions they evoke.

Continue reading

Posted in on Denial, Doubt, and Divinity | Comments Off on The Question of Immortality, its Nature and Loci

Entr’acte, somewhere between Tennessee Williams and Giacomo Puccini, reflections on freedom and individuality

I was recently at a performance of Streetcar Named Desire. A few days before I was asked if I was looking forward to the evening. My reaction was mixed. I do like the theatre, but Tennessee Williams is not celebrated as a diseur of happiness. My cursory reply was: “Act 1, sad; Act 2, disturbing; Act 3, distressingly tragic. William’s work is where the American dream of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness announces its effete dysfunctionality, its need for therapeutic analysis”.

That therapy, however, seems never to have reached a resolution. The liberty, the freedom, envisioned in the American adaptation of the Enlightenment’s espying of happiness is a lonesome pleasure. It is rather like Blanche Dubois, a solitude all dressed up with nowhere to go. For all the socially sanctioned bedizenment of sociality supposedly resident in that liberty, communality is blaringly lacking. The American dream sinks into an apotheosis of the individual, the “me”. Despite voices from the neo-orthodox to the less-than, from the Niebuhrs to the hippies, a corrective of the dream has not taken root. It remains a naïve fixation on the pleasure principle. It never evolves beyond the infantile eye and mouth ever seeking out something to suckle, something to feed upon and by which to find comfort. It is an absorber of experience. It is not nurturing, simply a need to be nurtured. Continue reading

Posted in on Etiquette for the soul | Comments Off on Entr’acte, somewhere between Tennessee Williams and Giacomo Puccini, reflections on freedom and individuality

The Easter Error

Before I begin this discourse, it is necessary to place before the reader three propositions, items I deem necessary, if not to the logic, at least to the spirit in which the arguments are performed. First, I am not without the prescience that that which I herein note will not change the minds and hearts of them that cling to one position or another, that it will neither empty a pew, nor cause one to be filled. Yet, in the dissemination of any knowledge it is always the hope that somewhere a seed will fall upon fertile ground and begin to take root, one day, perhaps, to flower and bear fruit. We live by adapting, and we adapt by having the faith we can, the envisioning hope that the vision ahead is reachable—in some manner. Continue reading

Posted in on Denial, Doubt, and Divinity | Comments Off on The Easter Error

“Fear not!”

“The angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them. They were terrified. But the angel said to them: “Fear not!…I bring you good news and it shall be a great joy to all peoples…To you this day is born…a saviour.” (Luke 2).

Before a perceived danger, it is natural to feel fear for one’s personal safety and well-being. Fear alerts us, readies us for defence. Fear, however, like all things, can possess us. We can allow it to possess us. In this, fear turns inward upon itself. It becomes not a sentinel of danger, merely fear itself, a fearing of no-thing actual. It is fear unleashed from its protective moorings, scanning the abyss of sheer potentialities. It is here, in this inwardness, that fear reveals its roots. The soul, in its depths, “knows”[i] the boundlessness of being, the cosmic scale of possibilities, and as well, its individuated limitedness, its finitude, its mortality. Man may with trust, with a grounding self-confidence, plot in fortitude, prudence, and hope to extend himself in every direction, but never can he do so without end. Ultimately then, every fear encapsulates that one primal fear—death. The Hebrew scriptures say no man may look upon God and live. They say also the “fear” of God is the beginning of wisdom. It is sin which eyes God as a threat, that denies the trustworthiness[ii] of God, that refuses to see in him the care and love of either father or saviour. It is sin that would defend itself before God, seek to defeat, to neutralize God. But the wise man fears God not as a threat but as the unsurpassable power that defines his and every other fleeting moment. Wisdom knows the sheer power of the Font of all being is so beyond comprehension, so, before the mind and heart of man, tremendous in majesty that man must draw back in awe, quiver in astonishment. Wisdom knows words—those definiens of communicability, internal and external—fail. Here man arms himself not. He kneels. He worships. The biblical notion of the fear of God, of the immortal One, is the obverse of the fear of death for fear here bows to the infinite, accepts finitude as gift, and trusts in the giver. It humbly appreciates infinity’s dwarfing of the finite. It embraces its concrete factuality, its pointed, blunt, and ultimate ultimatum: freedom or fate, thou may seek to conquer one or the other.[iii] Thus, wisdom knows its freedom, and hopes beyond fate. Man supplicates God to save him, spare him, release him, redeem him from his fated end and from every form of death. Man prays to partake of divine boundlessness, to have of God’s aid, his grace, in the moments of challenge, and to rest in immortality. To whom else can man make such fervent prayer? If fear, however, is part of the nature of man, why does this angel in Luke’s telling tell us to fear not? Continue reading

Posted in on Etiquette for the soul, on Sacred texts | Comments Off on “Fear not!”

“Do you believe Jesus was God incarnate?”

“Do you believe Jesus was God incarnate?” That was the question recently asked. It was not the first placing of that question before me. I am inclined to think that often when it is asked, it is in the hope I will confirm the interlocutor’s faith by replying either that he was just a man, or that he was indeed God incarnate. Unfortunately, the question is too vague because the term “God” is too vague in most minds, and the idea of “incarnation” too indefinite—even in those defining propositions of the official creeds that render Jesus a mystery of faith, a perfect and unconfused unity of human and divine natures with the term “natures” itself a philosophical idea that is open to debatable definition. Continue reading

Posted in on Sacred texts | Comments Off on “Do you believe Jesus was God incarnate?”