Interfaith Prayers

Interfaith prayers this week: continued prayers from the previous two weeks, and now in particular for a PEACEFUL response and peaceful solutions to the conflict Syria.

MOW Anniversary

On this fiftieth anniversary of the March on Washington and Dr. King's famous speech, I share this very thought provoking article that a Facebook friend found and shared: "Most of you have no idea what Martin Luther King actually did" by Hamden Rice (Aug. 29 2011). http://www.dailykos.com/story/2011/08/29/1011562/-Most-of-you-have-no-idea-what-Martin-Luther-King-actually-did

Good Article about Depression

I've had dysthymia (mild chronic depression) since childhood. I don't usually write about it because, well, writing makes me happy, and so I'm not experiencing "the blues" whenever I write. (I did write about depression in this blog post: http://paulstroble.blogspot.com/2011/03/lent-and-depression.html.)

Music does the same thing, so I often have music playing during the day (although other times, the silence of a quiet house or the sounds of the outdoors are more enjoyable). Teaching makes me happy, too. I also love do things like antique-shopping with the family, taking walks with the family, and so on. I think it's good sometimes to treat yourself with something silly; for instance, in nice weather I might stay barefooted for an errand or a walk or drive. Hobbies are wonderful: I used to do pencil-sketching, and I still do photography. If my life has a good balance among work, family, friends, service, and leisure activities, I'm much less prone to sadness.

Sometimes the funk is difficult to shake, and I muddle along and have poor energy even for favorite things. (The dearth of blog posts and tweets this past week betrays a recent struggle for optimism.) Nevertheless, I keep moving forward until, finally, the sadness "breaks," like a fever.

I do have more "spiritual" approaches to the blues, too, but I don't want to say anything foolish or cliched---like a nimrod I once knew who said, "Have you prayed about it?" When I'm blue, I do enjoy reading devotional literature and helpful authors like Henri Nouwen, Barbara Brown Taylor, and others---people who really stress the promise of God's love amid life's struggles. I know that reading academic books about the Bible isn't everyone's taste, but that is also something I like to do---learning new things about the biblical text. If any of us are prone to the blues, we can seek God's guidance for the kinds of activities and hobbies through which God consoles us.

These are all aspects of my own experience. I would never imply that my experience is normative, or that the things that help me would help others---they may or may not. Someone with major depression, for instance, would not be helped by my simple little techniques. If you feel depressed, please talk to good folk in your life to determine ways to help you, if you haven't already.

I very much appreciated this excellent piece about depression and its effects. This description of depression is so good and so apt, and I've memorized it in order to help myself: "[Depression is] like your brain is wearing a full-body armor designed to keep only the good things out. Bad things -- negative comments from your boss, getting rejected by an OKCupid date, petty complaints from your mother -- get ushered in instantly, like VIPs."  http://www.xojane.com/issues/why-are-we-so-shocked-when-someone-young-and-beautiful-commits-suicide

Parables of Commitment

Over the past few months, I’ve been studying the parables of Jesus via two books, one (by Jeremias) that I’ve owned since college and the other (by Wehrli) that I picked up on a used book display more recently.(1)

Chapter 7 of Wehrli is “Entering the Kingdom,” a major theme among the parables. He notes that a contrast exists in the parables. On one hand, the kingdom of God is a wonderful gift, given to all kinds of people without regard to their merit. On the other hand, the kingdom demands absolute commitment and unconditional surrender, “one hundred percent of our loyalty and being” (p. 69).

Wehrli gives several examples. For instance, the parable of the hidden treasure (Matt. 13:44) and the pearl of great price (Matt. 13:45-46). Whether the kingdom is stumbled upon or searched for is not the point; the point is that the kingdom demands our utmost commitment. Also, we should consider that cost beforehand, as in the parable of the costly tower (Luke 14:28-30) and the parable of the rash king (Luke 14:31-32). The parable of the talents, which has different details in its two versions (Matt. 25:14-30 and Luke 19:11-27), stress the need to venture for the kingdom, while the parable of the sower (Matt. 13:1-23, Mark 4:1-20, Luke 8:4-15) teaches the need to have faith as one shares the good news of the kingdom, even though the odds for success may seem slim.

These parables of Jesus are stressful!  No disrespect to Wehrli (a distinguished teacher and leader at Eden Seminary, where I'm an adjunct), but commentators like him are likely to reiterate Jesus’ claim: we need absolute obedience, we need to surrender to God, we need to give all our loyalty to God. But this approach to the parables simply raises all kinds of practical questions. Short of becoming renunciates, how do we give all our loyalty to God? What do we do? How can we ever measure up? Even someone like Thomas Merton, who did indeed give up all that he had, struggled with these questions.

For those of us who do want to be disciples and take these parables seriously, we might second-guess ourselves and worry whether we have ever done enough to be Christ’s followers. Or, we feel haughty and proud of the extent of our surrender (perhaps introducing a kind of professionalism into our discipleship) and then look down our noses on the lack of quality of someone else’s commitment.

Neither are good responses. Jesus’ criticism of the Pharisees is not that they’re Jewish leaders but that (as depicted in the gospels) they display an attitude that is never uncommon among any group of religious people. But if we always feel self-condemnatory, like the sorrowful publican of Luke 18:9-14, we neglect the Bible’s frequent admonitions to “be not afraid” and have peace in our hearts (Matt. 28:10, Luke 2:10, Luke 24:38-39, John 14:27, John 15:11, John 16:33, John 20:19 and 26, Rom. 5:1-2, Phil. 4:7, and others).

I think we really have to connect these kingdom parables of Jesus with the famous “love” passage of 1 Cor. 13:1-7. As Paul writes there, even loyalty to the utmost extent gains nothing if not motivated and guided by love. Our obedience and loyalty to the kingdom is never separable from the love that we show----and love is something in which we’re always growing, through the grace of God.

But we also have to connect these parables to what Walter Brueggemann calls God’s “massive fidelity (hesed) to those who are willing to live in covenant”(2). Jesus’ parables of the kingdom are, after all, based upon the Old Testament expectation of God’s kingdom that is in turn connected to God’s covenant with his people Israel. As the kingdom is eventually preached to the Gentiles, we Gentiles too become recipients of God’s unswerving loyalty: thus, according to the covenant relationship, God demands loyalty in return.

But God knows us. God knows that we are dust (Ps. 103:14), and because we are dust, God shows us abundant mercy. That word hesed translates as “fidelity,” or “steadfast love” or “lovingkindness”: the kind of love that is faithful and (ultimately) tender, a divine love which reaches into human existence, becomes involved in our pain and struggles, and remains more committed to us than us to God. Loyalty to God's kingdom involves carrying that love into the world, while trusting (as in the parable of the sower) that God's power is at work in our meager efforts.

Commitment to the kingdom is always a two-sided thing. We’re human, we always struggle, we fail every day. Jesus' demands elude our best efforts. But "best efforts" isn't the point; grace is. We know that there is plenteous grace, forgiveness, and fierce love for those who know their need for God, who seek God with humble, loving hearts.  

Notes:

1. Eugene S. Wehrli, Exploring the Parables (United Church Press, 1963), and Joachim Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus by Joachim Jeremias (Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1972).

2. Walter Brueggemann, “The Book of Exodus,” The New Interpreter’s Bible (Abingdon Press, 1994), 842.

Back to Teaching

Tomorrow is the first day of my school. I teach undergraduates at Webster University in St. Louis. I’ve two back-to-back philosophy courses in the morning, and an online course on which I’ll log on each day. Every semester, I’m nervous for a few days before classes begin, and then when classes start, I feel happy and positive.

I look back on my own college years. I felt very Charlie Brown-ish in college, willing to get in there and try but never feeling quite in sync. (At the time you could go into the campus prayer room and write your prayers anonymously in a notebook. There, I realized how many other students struggled with similar feelings of loneliness and worthlessness. I wish we could've figured out how to get together.) And yet …. I liked many fellow students, enjoyed almost all my classes, appreciated most of my professors, adored the well-supplied library, and as I’ve reconnected with ol’ college friends on Facebook, and I realize, to my chagrin and gratitude, how much people liked me back in those days. “Good grief,” as Charlie would say.

The college (and, obviously, God’s grace) put my life and vocation on permanent paths. I had caring mentors who were a huge influence, one in particular but also others. I rededicated my life to Christ during my first year, began to explore spiritual and theological work, and went to seminary in the fall of 1979. At least since the 1980s, I've contributed monetarily to my college each year.

I have a book by Gloria Durka, The Teacher's Calling: A Spirituality for Those Who Teach (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2002). I like this quote (page 57; emphasis in text).

"Everything we do as teachers has moral implications. Through dialogue, modeling, practice and the assignment of best motive, a caring teacher nurtures the ethical idea. What we reflect to our students contributes to the enhancement of that ideal if we meet our students as they are and find something admirable in them. As a result of this confirmation, our students may find the strength to become even more admirable. We leave them with an image that is lovelier than the one they had of themselves. We do not need to establish a deep, lasting, time-consuming personal relationship with every student. What we must do is to be present to each student as she or he addresses us.

"In sum, to teach morally, we need to care."

I did have three profs at my college (not in my major areas) who made me feel very hurt when they were arrogant with me and dismissive---they certainly didn't try to meet me where I was. I feel frustrated at the memory as much for general as specific reasons: we Christians so often spoil our witness and potential influence by failing to be kind and caring. None of us are perfect, but as I've grown in my own teaching, I prefer to err on the side of compassion when students come to me with a question or concern. Thanks to the ability to keep in touch with people via Facebook, I send cards to former students when they get married, have babies, and so on.

Years ago, I considered writing my doctoral dissertation on the Neo-Thomist philosopher Joseph Maréchal, S.J. I recall reading an intro to Maréchal’s work which said something to the effect that Maréchal was so brilliant but had to spend his career teaching undergraduates. That remark makes me angry to remember. I personally feel very blessed that God has included undergraduate education in his call to me to serve him! The commitment of my teachers at my college became a wonderful example. My feelings of loneliness and uncertainty in college was also instructive; what a great blessing a kind and interested professor (like my mentors there) can be to a student, not just in the subject but possibly for his or her life.

Interfaith Prayers

Interfaith prayers this week: continued prayers from last week, in particular for Syria and Egypt. News report indicate that a million Syrian children have become refugees from the country, in turn causing a crisis in Lebanon and also Jordan and Turkey. Meanwhile, Gaza has been closed since a recent attack on Egyptian police.

On many people's hearts and minds this week is the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington, and Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech.

Old Homes and Grace

When I was little, growing up east of St. Louis, we sometimes visited relatives in the city--and now, my family and I live in St. Louis, so I've been newly nostalgic about those childhood times.

My great-aunt Jean, her daughter and son-in-law (who worked for the Missouri Pacific) and their daughter lived south of downtown St. Louis in the 1960s, in what I later realized is the Dutchtown neighborhood. But during that same decade, they moved out to the suburban community of Crestwood, MO. I know they had moved there by 1965 (I was eight that year) because I remember the relatives sitting in the living room and talking about the wedding in Inger Stevens' TV series "The Farmer's Daughter." Funny the things that stay in your mind over the years.

Aunt Jean died in 1971, and the family subsequently moved to Florida--to the chagrin of my parents, who for whatever reason thought the goodbyes weren’t done very well. I think the cousins extolled the virtues of Florida so frequently that my parents didn't feel very missed. (We did visit the cousins in 1975, an epic fail of a vacation that I’ll write about another time.) Thus ended my childhood and adolescent visits to St. Louis, other than shopping trips and occasional visits to the zoo or the Arch.

But I remembered our relatives' two homes. The one was a turn-of-the-century two-story house, typical of an urban neighborhood, and the other was a ranch house in the suburbs. Cousin Jim had bars in both houses, which intrigued me as a kid because of (what I would now call) their 1960s ambience associated with the show “Mad Men.” These visits bored me to death, since I'd no cousins my age with whom to play, but Aunt Jean sometimes cornered me and talked about family history, the Bible, and other topics. Her death when I was 14 was devastating.(1) Yesterday, in fact, was her birthday (she was born in 1892), which I still remember.

But I would never have remembered the addresses of these homes. That was too many years ago. But looking through our basement storage room, I finally found a plastic box with family photos and old letters, including letters Aunt Jean wrote to me---with a return address of the Crestwood house. Also, there was a letter Aunt Jean had given to me from my grandfather Joe Crawford (her brother) with the return address of the Dutchtown home. (That letter was sad in retrospect, because Joe wrote about his poor health and how he missed his sisters, and in fact he died a month later.)

Not long after discovering the letters, my family and I were driving through Crestwood and I detoured about a block off Watson Road (old Route 66) and found the house. From the outside, it was as I remembered it. On another day, by myself, I drove to Dutchtown---following old 66 through town east from Watson Road to Chippewa to Gravois, and then south a few blocks to Ohio Avenue. The house was still there. My last visit to the place was so distant in my younger childhood. But the exterior conforms to my faint memories.

People come in and out of our lives; obviously these folks exist independently of us, but we tend to recall them in terms of their relationship to us. So it is with places. Whose lives have been defined by their time in these two houses, or any of the homes in which I’ve lived, or any of us? When my family and I lived in Kentucky, several families had lived in our house before we came, but only one had lived in our Flagstaff, AZ home, but the folks who purchased that house subsequently raised their children there. Who has lived in these two houses---about 120 years old and 50 years old---that were for a while homes for my relatives?

No one will ever write the biography of a place with respect to the people who’ve lived there, but each place has such a history that can’t be expressed in realtors’ data. Each place contains a history of grace: the ways God touched different people's lives within familiar surroundings. “If these walls could talk …”


1. http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSln=boughers&GSfn=+&GSbyrel=all&GSdyrel=all&GSst=16&GScnty=715&GScntry=4&GSob=n&GRid=65263424&df=all&