Renouncing Violence: A book review

Renouncing Violence book photo

 

Mary Margaret Funk’s latest book, Renouncing Violence, was born out of the fractious discourse across the world, but particularly in the United States. She writes in the preface: “The intent of this book is to gentle down. Calmness prevents and scatters violence. When violence is tamed, we find peace of heart. A working definition of violence is ‘form or forces that cause harm’.”

Funk has written ten books, primarily on training the mind which in turn converts the heart, including Thoughts Matter, among others. In Renouncing Violence, Funk clearly articulates how she trained her mind to convert her heart away from damaging thoughts and feelings which were impacting her life. She describes her purpose: “We can do something about violence …. Through renunciation, both individually and together, we can reduce, redirect, refrain, and reprogram our instinctual propensities toward retaliation, recompense, and rage.”  (xi)

Funk is conversant with the classical monastic writings, particularly the desert ammas and abbas from the 3rd and 4th centuries, which influence her understanding of training our minds in order to convert our hearts. Additionally, her knowledge of scripture, nurtured by years of practicing lectio divina informs her approach of inner heart movement from violence to nonviolence.

She describes her process of writing this book in three phases: first phase was listening and hearing that something new was happening these recent years: “The new normal [in our culture] was anxiety from within and fear from without.” (xi)

The second phase was listening to her own “disquietude.” After the U.S. presidential election in November 2016, “I realized that I was saturated with the affliction of anger.” A few months later Funk went on a weeklong retreat with a nun who “prayed out my anger.” But, Funk realized that she needed to guard her heart of anger returning “bringing seven more demons stronger than the first.” (xii)

Funk’s third phase was waiting on the Spirit to direct her to something that she should do about this new normal as “We are in a global bad mood.” She believes Jesus reversed violence through his death and resurrection and that there is “no anger in Jesus, only love.” Additionally, Funk is confident there is no wrath in God and the church was commissioned to extend God’s reign of love, peace, and shalom. From this foundation she wrote Renouncing Violence.
In the first chapter, Funk explores both the word “renunciation” and how to live a life of renunciation. She tells of her experience of choosing a vowed life in a Benedictine order. She had to renunciate her previous life in order to become a nun, she yields to the other members of her community, and devoting her life to God. “Renunciation is also a way to focus energies,” she writes.

Renunciation is also an opportunity to go beyond oneself for the sake of others. It is sweet to take on responsibilities that ensure other people’s desires are fulfilled, maybe even at some sacrifice.” (3)

But, she warns, “renunciation, in and of itself, will seem to have a missing piece if, indeed, there isn’t an overarching and underpinning belief.” (3)

For Funk, this “overarching and underpinning belief” is rooted in Jesus, whom she identifies as “the way out of violence.” She surveys 22 pericopes from all four gospels of Jesus as healer from which she concludes that,

Jesus’ healings show that he is the presence of God in the world enabling humanity to live a new life. Those healed by Jesus become free to become who they are meant to be, part of a community that lives in gratitude and praise, extending God’s work of restoration and healing to the world. (17-18)

She delves into the question if Jesus was ever angry stating “If Jesus was angry and did harm intentionally, then this narrative runs counter to all episodes where Jesus supported, healed, and restored life.” (18)

Furthermore, Funk reminds readers that none of the gospel accounts describe Jesus as angry but they do describe the priests and scribes as angry. The John account of Jesus clearing out the synagogue was an example of nonviolent prophetic action in the tradition of the prophetic witness displayed throughout the Old Testament: Jesus frees the birds, drives out the large animals, turns the tables, and strikes no one.

She summarizes the theme in the chapter “About the Practice of Renouncing Violence” of moving from violence to nonviolence; however, the structure of the chapter itself is a question and answer format rather than exposition. The content in the answers is excellent but the questions appear awkward, stilted, and ultimately off-putting. Nevertheless, Funk provides useful answers based on teachings from the early monastic tradition. She writes:

The training of the monastic way of life has an inner goal: shifting from self-consciousness to an immersion into a mystical consciousness, a knowing and experience of God acting from within, rather than the self acting toward the self. This shift is to have the self in service of God rather than God in service of the self.  (73)

Ultimately, Funk says, the early monastic practices are designed to “root out the affliction” of our anger and violent compulsions.

She concludes the book with three appendices: “Holy Water Prayer”, “Prayers in Time of Trouble”, “What I’ve Learned from Those Who’ve Been Harmed by Violence”; and a helpful bibliography for additional resources regarding nonviolence.

Renouncing Violence is an accessible, straight-forward book that could be used in small groups, Sunday school classes, or weekend retreats for study for those wanting to turn away from “disquietude” in contemporary culture and toward a loving, compassionate, nonviolent approach to all of life.

This review appeared May 17, 2019 on the Englewood Review of Books website.

What the World Needs Now: Boundless Compassion (book review)

 

 

Boundless-Compassion-3d

Boundless Compassion: Creating a Way of Life

By Joyce Rupp

(Sorin Books, 2018) 211 pp

 

Soon after a close friend’s death, Joyce Rupp had a life-changing experience which she describes in her new book, Boundless Compassion: Creating a Way of Life (Sorin Books). As she stood at her patio door:

I was trying to absorb this enormous loss when a hummingbird fluttered in front of my face, just a few inches outside the glass. It hovered there, facing me for several minutes, enough time to convince me that my friend—who treasured those little creatures—was assuring me all would be well. As the tiny bird departed, an inner knowing swept through my being: ‘Love is all that counts.’ Since that moment I have never been the same. (p. 2-3)

Rupp attributes this “showing” by her friend as a compassionate presence, convinced that the message was for her. “I turned from the patio door determined to give the rest of my life to living in such a way that compassion would be the most essential focus.” (ibid)

While Rupp was doing graduate studies at Naropa University, a Buddhist university in Boulder, Colorado, she read a description of an upcoming workshop to be led by the Dalai Lama. During her studies, she came to appreciate the emphasis on compassion within Buddhism and was committed to integrating compassion more deeply within her Christian life. As she read the Dalai Lama workshop details she wondered: “I really appreciate his wisdom. I wonder who is teaching Christians how to be more compassionate?”

Rupp heard God’s call to teach Christians how to live with more compassion. This book is part of Rupp’s response to God’s call. The book is a six-week study designed for individual study or a weekly group study.

Each week’s focus builds on the previous week’s theme:

  • Compassion as a Way of Life
  • Welcoming Ourselves
  • The River of Suffering
  • From Hostility to Hospitality
  • A Thousand Unbreakable Links
  • Becoming a Compassionate Presence.

Within each week’s section are daily reflections followed by questions for pondering, a prayer, and short Scripture verses to “carry in your heart today.” Just as each week builds upon the other so do the daily meditations lead the reader into a deeper exploration of the theme. Day seven is always “Review and Rest” with a series of examen questions over the previous week. After completing this book, Rupp suggests creating a “Circle of Compassion” monthly group as a way to encourage and nurture one another to live a more compassionate life.

Rupp created the book to lead readers and participants to an inner transformation that includes compassion for both our enemies and ourselves. The purpose of the book is to establish a spiritual discipline of compassionate transformation which will in turn enable us to become the compassionate presences needed around the world.

Yet, throughout the book,Rupp reminds the reader that compassion is more than being “nice” or even “kind.” She underscores the reality that compassion draws us closer to suffering whether it is our own, our families, our communities, or our globe. Rupp quotes the Swiss psychiatrist Elizabeth Kübler-Ross on what she discovered in her research on death and dying:

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen. (Positive Outlooks Blog, quoted in Boundless Compassion, p.182)

If we are to be transformed we need to participate in the daily spiritual practices Rupp leads us through Boundless Compassion. She concludes her book with this blessing: “The journey of compassion does not stop with the end of this book. It has only begun. So much waits to be discovered, explored, and integrated into daily living. Compassionate presence will always require taking another step further into personal transformation. This way of life is continually evolving.”

Rupp has also created a small book, Prayers of Boundless Compassion (Sorin) and a set of five DVDs, each one containing an hour-long presentation by Rupp which covers one of the topics from the primary text, available at www.joycerupp.com.

(This review was first published at Englewood Review of Books, May 3, 2018)

Book review: Once You Go In

Dangerous Readers-A

Once You Go In: A Memoir of Radical Faith

By Carly Gelsinger

(She Writes Press, 2018)

 

When God created Adam God declared it was not good for man to be alone, so Eve was created to ease Adam’s loneliness. The Old Testament is the story of individuals creating community with God and with one another. It is natural for us to long to belong to others whether this is within families, neighborhoods, sports team fandom, or within a faith tradition. We want to belong.

In her memoir, Once You Go In, Carly Gelsinger describes her adolescent longing to be part of a group, especially a particular church group in her small Northern California town, the Pine Canyon Assemblies of God Church. She grew up in a loving family of four living in the country, singing Beatles songs and Broadway tunes together. “We sang ‘All You Need is Love’ as the sun set behind the wall of pine trees next to us ….My heart bubbled over with the sense that love filled our longs, and that love was bigger than the canyon surrounding us.” And because of this love Gelsinger sensed a Love beyond and greater than the love experienced in her family. “…I had an inexplicable draw to be near to God from a young age.”

One day, while bicycling around town she spots a vinyl banner hanging in front of the Assemblies of God Church with the announcement: “Voice in the Desert Youth, 7 p.m. Thursdays.”

Youth. The word makes me picture slumber parties and pepperoni pizza and group photos and matching T-shirts. The Baptist church I’ve been going to off and on for years doesn’t have Youth. They have babies and old people, and Vacation Bible School, which is for little kids. I wonder what it would be like to have a group, a place to belong.

And Gelsinger joins the youth group. Her well-written memoir tells us of her efforts to belong to this church and what it cost her in terms of her relationships with her family, herself, and with God.

Throughout Gelsinger’s story she tries to understand what the group norms are, to tease apart the religious language, and to guess at the expectations of the church. Despite her efforts she apparently falls short of understanding the religious culture of this small Pentecostal church. Gelsinger attempts to live the kind of godly life the church teaches.  What she doesn’t realize until she was a young adult was no matter how hard she tries to fit in, to fully belong to this congregation, she will always fall short because the god this church worships is mean-spirited, angry, and frequently punishes those who disappoint him. When she disappoints her pastor, his wife, and the youth leaders, she is, in effect, disappointing God and lives in fear of being excluded from the church.

Gelsinger tells several stories of how the church leaders would distinguish church members as separate from non-church members by underscoring their belief that “we are special, we are the faithful ones that God will use to save the world.” The leaders emphasize that “we believe and practice our faith the correct way because we are on fire for the Lord while other people are lukewarm in their faith.” The people were continually exhorted to convert the lukewarm believers and non-believers but “if you can’t convert them then you must separate yourself from those people because they will be an evil influence on you.” Of course, the leaders use the language of “encouraging one another, exhorting for good, and offering godly discipline” to control the group rather than focusing on God’s mercy and love.

Gelsinger remains a part of the church throughout her adolescence in which she genuinely loves God and wants to be God’s faithful servant. She speaks in tongues, prays for miracles, witnesses to her peers, while experiencing life as an American teenager. The church’s emphasis on salvation on their terms puts a strain on Gelsinger’s relationship with her parents, enduring pressure from church leaders to “save” her father who grew up Catholic. She is encouraged by the youth pastor and his wife to refrain from the family activity of listening and singing to the Beatles and other forms of secular music. The same youth pastor and wife routinely suggests that Gelsinger’s family carries generational sin which prevents Gelsinger from becoming a great woman of God. Ultimately, after a confrontation by the youth pastor and wife for having a “Spirit of Rebellion” Gelsinger’s mother tells her, “You are brainwashed.” They do not speak for a few weeks afterward.

The confrontation propels Gelsinger into understanding that she needs to get away from Pine Canyon Assemblies of God Church and even Pine Canyon itself. She transfers from the local community college to a small evangelical college thirty miles away. The physical distance provides room for Gelsinger to begin healing from the psychological, emotional, and spiritual wounds inflicted by the small congregation. She begins to find new friends, groups, and her future husband who do not wish to control her or her relationship with God.

Gelsinger marries, moves across the country for graduate school, finds new friends who love her and love God. She starts the painful process of deconstructing her youthful faith while cautiously reconstructing a faith in a loving and merciful God. Eventually, she and her husband visit a number of churches or not attend at all until they wander into an Episcopalian church on a Sunday morning, which was the denomination of her now-deceased loving and merciful grandmother. Gelsinger concludes the book with this description of her faith:

My fire for God changed me, and while I never want to go back, I can see hope is leading the way to something good. It has led me to the slow growth of faith, of small shoots of life pushing up from dead stumps, of expansive views of hope I may have never seen otherwise…I will keep questioning and thanking and running and falling and searching and rebuilding, because this is the process of being alive.

 In her acknowledgments, Gelsinger states: “I am grateful for every person in this story who led me to where I am today …. There are no villains or heroes in this story—just muddling through.” This is a loving and merciful spirit toward her life and the people of her youth. While Gelsinger doesn’t explicitly state it, she now belongs to her family, to God, and to herself.

(This review first appeared in the Englewood Review of Books, November 1, 2018)

What Sustains Me

Youngest niece with her kitten

(My youngest niece with her companion). Photo by Jill Warden

 

7) At the four-way stop on the road from our house to our work there is a parade of roosters, chickens, and ducks moving from corner to corner. Often a rooster is leading the flock like a drum major. I laugh out loud every time I see them.

6) I am delighted during a chat with my 9-year-old niece as she tells me of her class report “Facts about Cats.” I’m not a cat person but I ask follow-up questions which she answers with authority and passion.

5) At The Hermitage, the contemplative retreat center where I work, we begin meals for our guests with ”Food is God’s love made edible.” Our meals are fresh and nutritious from ingredients grown at local farms. Who can compare the taste of freshly harvested beets to beets from a can on the grocery shelf?

4) At the beginning of meeting with retreat guests seeking spiritual direction, I light the oil lamp to remind us that God is with us and we do not have to be afraid. I listen with a prayerful, soulful heart as they entrust their stories to me. Sometimes the vibrational energy is strong and it unnerves me when I remember the stories of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross levitating in their conversations. I am not levitating and I don’t have to be afraid.

3) When my husband gazes at me with love and I am reminded of Julian of Norwich: “I look at God and God looks back at me.” I receive those gazes as the loving face of God.

2) Hermitage morning prayers end affirming each other with: “[Name], you are the bearer of God’s infinite life.” Some days I believe I can be a God-bearer and other days, not a chance.

1) What sustains? God. God is in all, through all, is all.

 

A Lesson in Yielding: St. Kevin of Glendalough

(St. Kevin of Glendalough’s Feast Day is June 3 and I returned to my reflection just after we returned from our trip to Ireland in 2016. I offer it again to you.)

 

Kevin of G.

 

Last fall Kevin and I participated in the The Soul’s Slow Ripening: Monastic Wisdom for Discernment pilgrimage in Ireland. We learned about St. Kevin of Glendalough, an important figure in Celtic Christianity and we were intrigued with the most famous story about St. Kevin holding a bird in his hand while he prayed.

A little background: the original Kevin is somewhat mysterious—it is challenging to know where the facts about him end and the myths begin. For instance, it is said that Kevin was born in 498 and died in 618 giving him about 120 years of life.

He lived as a hermit in a cave in Glendalough yet he attracted people and created community—his cave became the hub of a monastery.

Many of the stories about St. Kevin suggest that he had a deep relationship with the natural world. For example, one legend is that the loneliness of a hermit’s life was alleviated when “the branches and leaves of the trees sometimes sang sweet songs to him.”

Then there is the famous story of St. Kevin and the blackbird.

One day, as the story goes, Kevin was praying with his arm outstretched in his cell in the monastery. The cell was so small that his right arm had to poke out through the window. As he was praying, a blackbird came and nestled in his hand. Then the blackbird started to build a nest. When the nest was complete, the blackbird laid an egg.

Once Kevin realized that the nest and the egg were in his hand, he decided not to move until the egg had hatched and the fledgling had flown away. He didn’t want to risk breaking the egg.

One of the great things about legends is that simple stories are never that simple. This one works on several levels: a good deal of Celtic spirituality is about finding love in hard places; it is about both blood and stone. So, here we have St. Kevin, in his austere cell, undertaking something which is painful and difficult. Another level of the story is the small chick, a fragile creature for which Kevin feels great tenderness, inviting nurture and the pain that might involve. And another facet is yielding to what is emerging.

When we returned home, I ordered the Dancing Monk icon of St. Kevin (from Rabbit Room Arts) then found a small wood hand sculpture and I added a small nest with a bird. These reminders of St. Kevin have been on our home altar since October and I pass it several times a day and  I reflect on these invitations:

*I am invited to yield to what is, to what has been, and what will be.

*I am also invited to pray for the patience of St. Kevin because I sorely lack it.

*And I am invited to submit to God’s work in me, in (my) Kevin, and in our lives.

Kevin of Glendalough Dancing Monk

Seamus Heaney wrote this lovely poem:

St. Kevin and the Blackbird

One turned-up palm is out the window, stiff

As a crossbeam, when a blackbird lands

And lays in it and settles down to nest.

 

Kevin feels the warm eggs, the small breast, the tucked

Neat head and claws and, finding himself linked

Into the network of eternal life,

 

Is moved to pity: now he must hold his hand

Like a branch out in the sun and rain for weeks

Until the young are hatched and fledged and flown.

 

*

And since the whole thing’s imagined anyhow,

Imagine being Kevin. Which is he?

Self-forgetful or in agony all the time

 

From the neck on out down through his hurting forearms?

Are his fingers sleeping? Does he still feel his knees?

Or has the shut-eyed blank of underneath

 

Crept up through him? Is there distance in his head?

Alone and mirrored clear in love’s deep river,

“To labour and not to seek reward,” he prays,

 

A prayer his body makes entirely

For he has forgotten self, forgotten bird

And on the riverbank forgotten the river’s name.

The Spirit Level, 1996

 

Also, Christine Valters Paintner wrote this exquisite poem here.

Questions I ponder:

  • How many times in my life do I reach out my hands for a particular purpose and something else arrives?
  • What needs to be surrendered or yielded in my life for new life to emerge?
  • What might need nurturing? Is there anything holding me back from nurture: fear of pain, fear of loss, fear of what it might cost?

Mustard Seeds Matter

mustard seeds--11-9-2017 blog

 

There is a legend about a traveler making his way to a large city.  One night he meets two other travelers along the road–Fear and Plague.

Plague explains to the traveler that, once they arrived, they are expected to kill 10,000 people in the city.  The traveler asks Plague if Plague would do all the killing.  “Oh no,” Plague responded.  “I shall kill only a few hundred. My friend Fear will kill the others.”

Fear, whether real or imagined, can discourage us, overwhelm us, and strangle us.  Fear is widespread ranging from fear of failure to fear of war and terrorists.

***

The disciples of Jesus experienced many of these same feelings.  In Luke 17:5-10, we read of their beseeching Jesus to increase their faith. Perhaps this is a cry or prayer you may have said at one time or another, “Lord–increase our faith!  Help us believe enough so that we can do what it is that you have commanded us to do–help us to trust enough so that we can live as you say we should be living.  Lord, take away our fear!”

How does Jesus respond to their pleas?  Does he lay his hands on them and pray and give them more faith as they asked?  Does he snap his fingers and grant them a double dose of the Holy Spirit?  No–instead, he says to them: “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry, ‘be uprooted up and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” I imagine the disciples looking at one another with the unspoken question: Do you know what Jesus is talking about?

***

I think Jesus’ odd response to the disciples can be explained through the concept of “the butterfly effect.” The notion in chaos theory is that no matter how complex a system is the slightest change in initial conditions can have far-reaching effects, changing a system dynamically.  Edward Lorenz first observed and proposed this theory back in the 1960s when he was running computer models of weather measurements. When he entered even the slightest difference in the initial number in his equations, the resulting outcomes were dramatically changed.  His paper submitted for a scientific talk he gave in 1992 was titled, “Predictability: Does the Flap of a Butterfly’s Wings in Brazil set off a Tornado in Texas?”

***

Might there be something in the butterfly effect that Jesus is trying to tell us?  Possibly that even the smallest intention and action toward following Jesus, toward doing the good, the smallest glimpses of that holiness and wholeness in the midst of our fear and brokenness can help bring the kingdom of God into being?

***

In the novel and film To Kill a Mockingbird, the character Tom, an African-American, is wrongly accused of assaulting a white teenage girl and he is held in the town jail.  A group of white men approach the jail with the intention to lynch and kill Tom.  On the front steps sits Tom’s lawyer, Atticus Finch, the moral center of the novel. Atticus’ daughter, Scout, runs to Atticus’ side and she watches the men. Her father tells her to run away and go home. But Scout doesn’t run, and she doesn’t fight. Instead she finds the right words that become a kind of mustard seed.

Scout looks at one of the men in the mob and says, “Hey Mister Cunningham, don’t you remember me? I go to school with Walter. He’s your boy, ain’t he? We brought him home for dinner one time. Tell your boy ‘hey’ for me, will you?” There was a long pause. Then Cunningham responds to Scout: “I’ll tell him you said ‘hey,’ little lady,” and he turns to leave. With Cunningham’s departure, the rest of the mob begins to break up and leave.

Scout offered a small, gentle reminder of God’s goodness.  And what she said was a mustard seed–nothing courageous and noble– because she saw Mr. Cunningham’s humanity and touched that humanity enough to bring him out of his irrational inhumanity. It was a “butterfly effect,” a tiny mustard seed that changed the events of that night.

***

I am reminded of the prayer attributed to Francis of Assisi:

“Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace;

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy ….”

***

In this world where doubt, hatred, and despair reign so supreme, it seems almost impossible that such small seeds of faith, love, and hope have much chance of surviving.  No wonder we cry out with the disciples, “Increase our faith!”

Remember:The slightest change in initial conditions—no matter how complex–can have far-reaching effects.”  Mustard seeds matter.

A Plea for God’s Help

 

empty bench--blog 8-2017

Oh God, where are you?

You have disappeared from our world,

It seems you have turned your back on us when we desperately need You.

 

We need you to act and move in this world—

bombs, tear gas, and cars are flying and falling,

people are dying

while the powers keep talking and talking and not listening and listening.

 

Oh God, where are you?

Have you have abandoned us?

Have you left us when we desperately need you?

 

We need you to give us words and voices to talk to the powers–

we need you to break through their words and worlds and cause them to pause, to listen.

We need you to halt the hate, death, and destruction that is occurring all over the globe.

We need you.

 

Oh God, your word promises us that you will never leave us nor forsake us.

Please show yourself to us and to the world.

Please pour out your goodness, your love, your mercy to all of us.

Oh God, please act and move in this world, today and everyday. Amen