“All over the world people are leaving villages. It is one of the great migrations of history. They leave to find jobs. They leave to escape poverty and toil. They hope to find all the dreams promoted and sold by Western culture. A world of indolence peopled by creature comforts where comfort is confused with happiness and consuming becomes a surrogate for life. But most times the dream becomes a nightmare…..”
By John Taylor
So said Jesus to the lawyer who had quoted scripture about loving God with all your heart, soul, and might, and loving your neighbour as yourself. He asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbour?” Jesus’ answer left no one in doubt. He offered the toughest possible example – a hated, loathed Samaritan as the good neighbour helping a noble Jew in need by the road. The message was clear – the neighbour we should love includes everyone. No exceptions. None.
“Our thoughts and prayers are simply not enough in these times. If we are to be the hands and feet of Christ in our world, we must join together to be at the forefront of work to bring justice to victims of these abuses, but further, we are called as a people to bring change to unjust systems which perpetuate more of the same. “…….
…..“We are called to exemplify the way of Jesus in the world, and through our principles and actions we will guide our communities to understand the Spirit of God in new ways.“
There is a lot of information about the Christmas story that I have learnt over the years, that doesn’t actually appear in the Bible at all. Rather they have been created through artistic creativity and images on Christmas cards, in carols and cultural assumptions which would almost have us swearing that it was written right there in Matthew or Luke.
My meditation teacher Jacqui talks about this thing we all do, every day, that distances us from the present moment. It stops us from connecting with the person in front of us. Our family members. Our pets. Our barista. The friend we’re out to brunch with. The supermarket check out person we give our money to. The people we pass on our morning run. The lonely child at a party. From connecting with ourselves and our feeling in that moment. She calls it ‘mashing’.
by Dustin Davis, Spiritual Formation Team
“He said to them, ‘Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic.’” Luke 9:3 NRSV
While I was packing for a recent trip these tough words from Jesus floated into my mind. But how could I take nothing with me? That seemed simply impossible. (The irony of that phrase is not lost on me.) My imagination fill with “what if” scenarios as I was picking from my clothes and shoes and books to take. What if it was going to be cold? What if it rained? What if I was invited out to eat and the clothes I had weren’t appropriate? What if I needed to reference a certain author or idea I had read? Although I’ve gotten better at packing I still tend to overpack and struggle with the burden of carrying too much on my journey.
Richard Rohr was the first person I heard say that the gospel message is so simple it’s disarming. Read that one more time. Yes, love of God and love of neighbor is a message so simple that it almost takes us by surprise. In our complex and increasingly complicated world where we are so accustomed to striving, achieving, earning, calculating, and navigating, it has become hard to accept that something, especially love, can be given and received so freely.
We tend to overcomplicate most aspects of our lives, because our cultural norms tell us that bigger is better and more means more. Our relationships, our consumer habits, our connection with the planet, and even our church lives deserve our closer attention during this time of asking about what matters most. This also includes, of course, our spiritual lives.
The call to simplicity in our spiritual lives is not an easy one to follow, I believe, because it forces us to confront our individualistic illusions of self-sufficiency. In his book called Eager to Love about St. Francis of Assisi and Franciscan spirituality, Rohr says, “In terms of spirituality, as in good art, less is usually more. Or, to put it another way, small is beautiful. Only by continually choosing a philosophy of ‘less’ that is willing to wait for God’s ‘more,’ will we grow and transform, since we have then learned to be taught by smallness and ordinariness…[Francis] rebuilt the spiritual life on ‘love alone,’ and let go of the lower-level needs of social esteem, security, self-image, and manufacturing of persona.”
That love alone can sustain our spiritual lives is the truth I think Jesus was getting at – and the truth that Frances was able to live – when he told his disciples to take nothing with them for their journey. You see, only when we are willing to set aside what we have strived for and achieved can we come to rely solely on God’s generosity and the generosity of others. And it is precisely this unearned generosity that teaches us grace, which then frees us to receive God’s unconditional love.
The willingness to shed a few things, to live more simply, and to rely more heavily on God’s generosity so that our journey may be less arduous and cumbersome may be painful at first. But consider this possibility: What if what frightens us the most is actually an invitation to something new? What if the painful and the difficult is a path to resurrection? What if the blessings of less help us discover the more of God that we know is coming not just on Easter morning but that fills every moment? What if it’s really that simple?
Reblogged from the Spiritual Formation Centre Blog
