Voice of a Non-Dualist Christian Woman
I think I may have found an important feminine voice in the field of interfaith mysticism: Sara Grant, R.S.C.J. Look at this description of one of her books, from the University of Notre Dame Press Website:
Toward an Alternative Theology: Confessions of a Non-Dualist Christian
By Sara Grant, R.S.C.J. Introduction by Bradley J. MalkovskyToward an Alternative Theology: Confessions of a Non-Dualist Christian is the spiritual and intellectual autobiography of Sara Grant, a Roman Catholic Scottish nun, who, until her death in 2000, established herself as one of the leading twentieth-century figures in Indian Christian theology and the contemplative life. In this slim volume, Grant recounts her search not only for God, but for a right understanding of God, as well as for a way of rethinking Christian teachings on the mystery of God’s relation to the world that could overcome widespread popular dualisms. Appearing for the first time in the United States, this engrossing book eloquently shows how Christian theology and spirituality can be enriched by encountering the experiences and concepts of advaita. This updated edition includes a new introduction by Bradley J. Malkovsky, associate professor of comparative theology at the University of Notre Dame.
About the author: Sara Grant, R.S.C.J., was a member of the Jnana-Deepa-Vidyapeeth faculty in Pune, India and head of the Christa Prema Seva Ashram.
“This is a spiritual journey, reminding one of Augustine, Merton, or Hammarskjold . . . a perfect blend of spirituality, classical Christian and Hindu philosophy, and what contemporary theology could be.” —William Cenkner, Katharine Drexel Professor of Religion, The Catholic University of America
“Sara Grant bent her mind and heart to the theology of Sankara, whom she compares in an amazingly astute way to Thomas Aquinas in this book. Toward an Alternative Theology provides a readable and penetrating theological synthesis carried out in an interfaith atmosphere . . . It serves a great purpose to the community of philosophical theology.” —David Burrell, C.S.C., Theodore Hesburgh Professor in Philosophy and Theology, University of Notre Dame
Is anyone who is reading this blog familiar with Sara Grant? If so, please leave your comment here and/or get in touch with me via email. Thanks!
I did not kill your father… I AM your father!
So… am I the only one to see a family resemblance here?
A Conversation about Mysticism
Yesterday Google Alerts brought to my attention a new blog called Are There No More Idols? Is There No Place Left to Hide? The Time is Near! The inaugural post on this blog, by a woman named Diane, attacks Rob Bell because of his advocacy of mysticism.
Now normally when I come across an anti-mysticism blog I might spend a few minutes looking at it to see if there are any new arguments arising from that camp (I’ve yet to find anything beyond the standard anti-Catholic or anti-Eastern rhetoric, but I keep looking just in case). Typically I don’t bother to leave a comment, but because this particular blog was brand new, I felt led to voice my disagreement (I tried to be polite, although I did tell the blogger I thought her post “reveals how little you know about the authentic tradition of Christian mysticism” — guess I need to take a charm school refresher course).
Well, today she responded to my comment, not so much in terms of responding to anything I said but by expressing more of her thoughts about why she felt mysticism is un-Christian (and yes, she was more polite than I was). Even though we’re basically having a debate, I’m enjoying the opportunity to dialogue with someone whose views are radically unlike my own. If anyone would like to pitch in, please follow this link to see where the conversation is headed; or you can read my most recent comment on Diane’s blog, copied in full here: (more…)
Quote for the Day
No one needs, I suppose, to be told that the two chief features of Christian schematic theology are the dogmas of the Trinity and the Incarnation. They correlate and explain each other: forming together, for the Christian, the “final key” to the riddle of the world. The history of practical and institutional Christianity is the history of the attempt to exhibit their meaning in space and time. The history of mystical philosophy is the history — still incomplete — of the demonstration of their meaning in eternity.
— Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism: The Nature and
Development of Spiritual Consciousness
Quote for the Day
In actual fact, contemplation is not the reward of a virtuous life; it is a necessity for a virtuous life.
— Thomas Keating, Intimacy with God
William Blake
Today is William Blake’s 250th birthday.
I first learned that such a thing as mysticism existed when I studied Blake in my 11th grade English class. My teacher, Mrs. Romano, gave us a handout about Blake, in which she described him as “a mystic.” I asked her what that meant. She fumbled through her answer, but basically suggested he was a super-spiritual visionary. I don’t know if I fell in love with Blake or with mysticism that day, but both appealed to me.
When I was in college, I simply adored Blake, and thought that I would eventually go on to get my Ph.D. writing a dissertation on Blake. Obviously that never happened, and eventually I grew impatient with how idiosyncratic Blake’s vision is. Even so, I’ve always loved him, and consider his best works to be shining jewels in the crown of English literature. In Ulysses, James Joyce talks about “Blake’s wings of excess;” in Mysticism, Evelyn Underhill says Blake “shines like a solitary star in the uncongenial atmosphere of the Georgian age.” She calls Blake a “Protestant mystic” but I think Blake’s genius as a mystic belongs to world mysticism, rather than to its Christian sub-genre.
Anyone who has read this blog for a while knows my favorite Blake quote, from the Songs of Innocence:
And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love.
But my all-time favorite work of his is clearly The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Granted, the ideas in this poem fall outside the boundaries of orthodox Christian theology (C. S. Lewis even tried to grant heaven and hell a divorce), but it is a brilliant glimpse into the promise of integral mysticism. The climax of the tale comes when Blake, accompanied by an angel, descends into the maelström of hell; in the midst of a vision worthy of Dante or Bosch, Leviathan appears and lunges toward them. The terrified angel quickly scrams and leaves Blake who notes that once the fear-ridden consciousness of the angel had left, so too the terrors of hell suddenly disappeared:
then this appearance was no more, but I found myself sitting on a pleasant bank beside a river by moon light hearing a harper who sang to the harp, & his theme was, The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, & breeds reptiles of the mind.
Seen integrally, this represents the transition out of mythic-membership consciousness — where spirituality is all about who is a sheep and who is a goat — and into unitive consciousness (grounded in Psalm 139:8, “If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there”). If mysticism means finding joy in God’s presence, then the division between heaven and hell is meaningless, for God is everywhere — even though liberals, who get squeamish about the terrors of hell, explain them away by saying what really puts the hell in hell is that it’s a place where one is separated from God. Poppycock! It’s impossible to be separated from God. Hell is not about being separated from God, it’s about choosing to resist the fire of Divine Love. Then, instead of making us incandescent, it burns. Integral consciousness recognizes that the key to heaven and hell lies within our heart. We are all predestined to spend eternity immersed in the presence of God, bearing the beams of God’s love. How we experience those beams — as heavy and burdensome, or as joyous as light — is, thanks to the free gift of grace, pretty much left up to us.
Okay, so I’ve wandered a long way off of William Blake, but that in itself is testimony to the splendor of his thought, idiosyncratic though it may be.
Happy birthday, William. Tell the harper I said hello.
Theological Dictionary Word of the Day
Here’s a fun blog: the Theological Dictionary Word of the Day.
Yesterday’s “word of the day” was “Christian Mysticism.” Click here to read the definition.
Friends, it’s a movement…
So what do Thomas Merton, Thich Nhat Hanh, Raimon Panikkar, Ken Wilber, Bede Griffiths, Ravi Ravindra and Henry Le Saux (aka Swami Abhishiktananda) have in common?
They’ve all done work involving the question of Christian spirituality in conversation with one or more forms of eastern mysticism. Some of them are Christians, some not, and at least one of them seems to have radically blurred the line between the two. For some of these folks, the east-west conversation seems to be the central or major thrust of their work. For others, it’s really just a sidebar to other concerns. But my point is, they’re all doing it. As Arlo Guthrie said when talking about what happens when fifty people are singing Alice’s Restaurant: “Friends, it’s a movement!”
I’m not saying every Christian needs to learn the lotus position or that every Vedantist needs to study the Bible. But I do think as our world gets smaller and smaller, we all need to be learning as much as we can about each other. And let us not forget that this party doesn’t just involve Christians, Buddhists and Hindus: Jews, Muslims, Sikhs, Pagans and countless others are invited to the dance as well.
I’m just sorry that I don’t know of any women to add to my list. Can anyone enlighten me about women — either Christian or non-Christian — who are directly engaged in the east-west conversation?
Mysticism feels good
Back in the 1990s I saw a bumper sticker that declared, simply, “The Truth Feels Good.” I’ve thought about that bumper sticker a lot since then. I think it’s a fascinating declaration. Lately I’ve begun to wonder how it squares with Christian doctrine. Christianity certainly has an ethic of sufffering, victimization and martyrdom, none of which (in my experience) feel so great. But the point is, of course, to seek a higher good than merely one’s own fleeing feelings. It is painful to devote one’s entire life to caring for someone in great need, to the point that it requires the delaying or denying of other goals. But this pain is swallowed up by a commitment to the higher good of working to create a world where everyone receives the care they need.
British theologian Don Cupitt describes mysticism as a strategy for achieving religious happiness. When I think about this alongside the bumpersticker, I’m left with the unlikely notion that “Mysticism feels good.” Certainly there is a long tradition of bliss and consolation as essential elements of a devout life of prayer. But mysticism also has its share of self-denial for the sake of something higher, greater, nobler than mere self-interest. I suppose that such purposeful self-denial provides its own satisfaction and its own reward, maybe not in terms of immediate feelings of happiness or pleasure, but in terms of a more grounded, from-the-heart sense of doing or participating in what is “right.”
Ayn Rand argued that altruism is never a good thing because it involves a violation of self-interest. But I see things a different way: authentic altruism is always an act of self-interest, maybe not on the surface level of appetite or whim, but on a higher level of integrity and conscience. Note that I say “authentic altruism.” Altruism, like anything else, can have toxic as well as healthy manifestations. Toxic altruism is basically that which is not freely given: an “altruism” borne of guilt, manipulation, coercion, control. Such altruism is not really altruism at all. No wonder it doesn’t feel very good.
Thomas Merton
I’ve just posted to the Mystics section of this website a page about Thomas Merton.
Tita’s Catacomb
Google Alerts notifies me whenever a blogger mentions contemplative prayer (among several other topics I keep an eye on). This morning, it directed me to a reference to contemplation in a blog called Tita’s Catacomb: Reclaiming Sexuality and Soul. Most bloggers write about contemplative prayer either to celebrate it or condemn it, but right away I saw that this blog belonged to a category all its own. Its description pretty much says it all: “A written commentary documenting my efforts to emancipate myself from the direct control and manipulation of institutional Christianity. This is for all the truly spiritual people who, like me, have recognized what a soul killer, institutional Christianity is.” I spent about fifteen minutes scrolling through the blog. The author is either a very colorful storyteller or tragic in her wounding. (more…)
Quote for the Day
A philosophy without theology is irrelevant, and a theology without philosophy is a more or less superstitious credulity.
— Raimon Panikkar, Christophany: The Fullness of Man
Thanksgiving
To all my USA readers, happy thanksgiving!
Thanksgiving reminds me of an old Irish festival called Lughnasa. Lughnasa (literally, “the assembly of Lugh”) was a month-long harvest festival that took place at the time of the grain harvest (probably late July or early August); it was marked not only by feasting, but also by sporting events and much pageantry. Here in America, we’ve moved our harvest festival to the end of the season (late November), but thanks to the mass media, in addition to our feast we also get plenty of sporting events (televised football) and pageantry (the Macy’s Parade).
Of course, thanksgiving day also reminds me that whenever Christians gather to celebrate the Holy Eucharist, it’s a “thanksgiving day.” For the Greek word eucharistia means “thanksgiving.” Which means that when we participate in daily mass, it’s thanksgiving every day.
That’s the way to live.
Quotes for the Day
In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness. … This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud. … I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now I realize what we all are. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun.
— Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander
Luminous beings are we.
— Yoda in The Empire Strikes Back
Spiritual Direction with Fr. Tom
Tonight I met with Father Tom Francis, OCSO, for spiritual direction. Here’s a partial (!) list of the topics we covered:
- How the French school of devotional spirituality that began in the 16th century represents a betrayal of the mysticism of the Spanish Carmelites;
- How Meister Eckhart’s theology of the Godhead relates to Gregory Palamas’ teaching regarding the energies and essence of God;
- How the Rule of St. Benedict could be seen as actually undermining the wisdom of the desert fathers;
- How postmodern theologies of the Holy Trinity might be the best hope for a widespread revival of mysticism in our day (this is a favorite topic of Fr. Tom’s, so no big suprise here);
- How the teachings of Sri Ramana Maharshi influenced the Benedictine contemplative Henry Le Saux (aka Swami Abhishiktananda), and why these ideas are important for students of Christian mysticism today;
- And how Neoplatonic thought weakens The Cloud of Unknowing and why The Book of Privy Counsel (by the same unknown author) may in fact represent a more pure transmission of Christian mysticism.
All this in one hour! And of course, I’ve been given two reading assignments to finish before we meet again: Christophany: The Fullness of Man by Raimon Panikkar, and Being with God: Trinity, Apophaticism, and Divine-Human Communion by Aristotle Papanikolaou.
And before you decide that I am hopelessly stuck in my head when it comes to my personal spiritual discipline, our time together included discussion both about problems in my own contemplative practice, as well as multiple reminders about the necessity to move beyond “knowing” in order to encounter the eternal love-dynamics of the Triune God. One of Fr. Tom’s favorite themes, which he hammered again and again, is how the western church has become so enamored of the intellect that our biggest obstacle to progress in the spiritual life is the seductions of the mind. All this while he is thrilling my mind with his lucid yet complex explanations of mystical theology. There you go: build up the mind and tear it down simultaneously. There must be a lesson in there somewhere.
Prayer for the Day
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. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
— Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude
Shane Claiborne
Last night Fran and Rhiannon and I drove up to Berry College outside of Rome, GA to hear Shane Claiborne speak. Shane is the author of a wonderful book called The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical (I’ve been meaning to write a review of it and just haven’t gotten to it yet; for now let’s just say it’s a book that belongs on your “must read” list). A leading figure in the neo-monastic movement, Shane is a co-founder of a small intentional community in Philadelphia, where he lives the gospel in the tradition of the Catholic Worker movement and the ministry of Mother Teresa (with whom we spent a summer). His book combines his life story with an insightful and accessible presentation of the gospel mandate for sharing and hospitality as core Christian virtues, with some plain old fashioned storytelling thrown in just to keep it interesting.
Shane is as fun and warm in person as he comes across on the pages of his book. With the physique of a preying mantis, horn-rimmed glasses, dreadlocks, and a goatee, he is hardly the image of a nice young white middle class evangelical. But as we discovered in his talk, his goal in life is to be — and to encourage all Christians to join him in being — the “spit’n image” of Christ. Shane explained that spit’n image is a corruption of “spirit and image,” suggesting that when one is the spit’n image of someone, they carry that person’s likeness inside as well as out.
His message basically covered the same ground as the book, keeping the audience’s attention with a down-home Tennesee accent (Shane hails from east Tennessee, not far from where we were last night) and plenty of humor. Particularly memorable is the story of his grandfather’s truck that caught fire when hauling hay one time (the story’s also in the book, so I won’t attempt to recount it here. Go buy the book!)
As someone who’s closing in on my half-century mark, it was a treat for me to hear a young man who must be barely over thirty share the gospel imperative for hospitality and restructuring our society to a chapel full of college students, here in the heart of a “red state.” It gives me hope. And part of Claiborne’s charm is that he never resorts to guilt-tripping or attacking in his efforts to get the message across. Even when, as he recounts in one memorable story (also in the book), he was arrested for distributing Holy Communion in a public park (at the time Philadelphia had an ordinance against distributing food in public), he notes how he was able to forge friends with both the police officers and the judge who presided over the case (he didn’t quite win over the prosecuting attorney; the fact that he accidentally called her the “persecutor” probably didn’t help matters).
Over the course of a sixty-minute talk and a q&a afterwards, Shane realizes he’s not going to change lives, so he kept his message upbeat and gentle. With a bible in his hand, he asks of his Christian-college audience, “What would happen if we really lived by this book?” But for me, the most brilliant moment of the evening came during the q&a, when one student asked him to comment on how Christians should approach the question of homosexuality. Here, Shane proved himself a brilliant tactician (and/or a true prophet). He never directly answered the question, knowing that to do so would mean — no matter what he said — an instant loss of credibility with a huge portion of the audience. Instead, he admits that different members of his own community hold divergent perspectives on this question. “As Christians we need to learn to disagree well,” he said. He also noted that it was important to put a human face on issues like “the gay question,” and finally that, as Billy Graham once said, it was the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, God’s job to judge, and so our job is simply to love. “We need to remember not to overstep our job description.”
Sure, I would have loved a more definitive answer from him. But to what end: so I could either applaud him or condemn him? By refusing to give me such an answer, he gave me (and everyone else there) the gift of not having to judge him — and also a glimpse of how the larger community of faith might learn to work through this and other polarizing issues.
So if Shane Claiborne comes to your home town, go hear him speak. And in the meantime, get the book, and read it. Through it, the Holy Spirit will convict you. But in a good way.
What a difference nineteen years makes
It’s fascinating to read the “Preface to the Twelfth Edition” of Evelyn Underhill’s Mysticism: The Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness. The first edition of Mysticism came out in 1911; the twelfth edition appeared nineteen years later. In the new preface, Underhill discusses how scholarly attitudes toward the subject of mysticism evolved in the nearly two decades since her first book came out. Now, as we approach the centenary of the book’s first publication, it’s interesting to consider what has or hasn’t changed in how we collectively understand mysticism and its role in religion and culture in general.
Underhill suggests that when she wrote the book, she was still arguing against the nineteenth century’s deterministic view of the universe. But in the space of twenty years, she no longer felt that determinism was the primary enemy of mysticism; instead, she saw monism as the new threat. It’s interesting how she responds: she suggests that the students and advocates of mystical spirituality should affirm a “limited dualism” that incorporates both matter and spirit, soul and body, God and creation, being and becoming. Underhill sees in the fashionable monism of her day a dogmatic worldview similar to what Ken Wilber some 55 years later would christen “flatland” — the disqualified universe where the transcendent is denied. But while Underhill’s perceptive analysis of the philosophical errors of those who eschew mysticism may be in some ways similar to Wilber’s perspective, she also clearly distinguishes herself (and the Christian tradition as a whole) from Wilber’s integral model when she notes that the intellectual climate of 1930 needs to be reminded of “the predominant part played in [mystical] development by the free and prevenient action of the Supernatural — in theological language, by ‘grace’ — as against all merely evolutionary or emergent theories of spiritual transcendence.” Amen! As profound and beautiful as evolutionary integral theory may be, the Christian gospel insists it is an incomplete picture of how the universe works. The missing element? The freely given gift. We do not need merely to evolve to reach heaven, even if evolution may be a joyous part of our journey there; to reach paradise, we begin by simply taking the hand lovingly outstretched to us.
Every time I read Underhill, I come away amazed at how relevant her work continues to be. Maybe I’m missing something here (and certainly she doesn’t begin to address the fascinating issues raised by postmodernity in its many permutations). She was astute enough to see a world of difference between the intellectual climates of 1911 and 1930; but in doing so, she began to explore issues that remain relevant even today.
If you are interested in Christian mysticism, please read this post
If you are interested in Christian mysticism, please go to my blog and read this post – and please answer one or more of the questions I list at the end of the post:
http://anamchara.com/2007/11/15/everything-you-always-wanted-to-know-about-christian-mysticism-but-were-afraid-to-ask/
Thank you!
Everything you always wanted to know about Christian mysticism (but were afraid to ask)
Hey you! Yes, that’s right… you, the person reading these words right now. I need your help. Don’t go away — please read this post and take a moment to respond…
Six months ago I heard a snippet of a talk Anne Lamott gave in which she encouraged writers to write the book they wish they could read. So I wrestled with this topic for a couple of days in my blog, culminating by saying this:
The book I wish I could read: a simple, practical, and sequential step-by-step manual on how to embark on the path of Christian mysticism in our day. With as much depth, erudition, and command of the tradition as Evelyn Underhill’s Mysticism.
I went on to say that such a book would be both “user-friendly and substantive” and would include “plenty of background material on the history and core teachings” of Christian mysticism.
Well, friends, I have made a commitment to write this book. And I am currently negotiating with a publisher to bring it out, probably in late 2009. Which means I have a little over a year to write the book on mysticism that I wish I could have read. Eek! (keep breathing, Carl; you can do this).
The first step on such a major project: I need your help. Since you’re reading this blog I am going to assume that you have at least a passing interest in Christian mysticism; this means you are the kind of person that this book will be written for. Now, all that matters is that you have this interest. It doesn’t matter whether you have been studying mysticism for the past 30 years, or if you just discovered the concept yesterday (in fact, I need to hear from both kinds of people!)
Basically, here’s what I want/need for you to do: please take a moment and answer one or more of the following four questions, either as a comment to this blog or via email to mccolman @ anamchara.com (you’ll have to remove the spaces to make the email work).
- What do you think Christian mysticism is? Why do you care about Christian mysticism?
- What topics or issues would you like to see a book on Christian mysticism address?
- How could a book on Christian mysticism be really, really, helpful to you (so helpful that you’d want to give copies to all your friends and relatives)?
- Have you ever read a spiritual book that you believe totally changed your life (in a good way)? If so, what book (or books) was it, and can you speak briefly about why you think this book was so life-changing for you?
Thank you.
Take This Bread
Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion
The Spiritual Memoir of a Twenty-First-Century Christian
By Sara Miles
New York: Ballantine Books, 2007
Review by Carl McColman
If, like me, you love stories like Chocolat or Babette’s Feast because of their eucharistic overtones, then you will simply adore Take This Bread, which is quite likely the most explicitly joyous eucharistic conversion story I’ve ever read. I’m struggling to avoid all the obvious gustatory puns: it’s a feast, you’ll eat it up, and so forth. There, I’ve gotten them out of me, so now I can just tell you what a delightful and theologically nimble book this is. Author Sara Miles begins with a candid assessment of the irony that courses through her story: the leftist lesbian atheist who in her mid-40s wanders into a church, receives communion, finds herself eyeball to eyeball with God, and then goes off and starts to live the gospel. Yee haw! And while Miles dances around the question of how she came to be in that church to begin with (the book’s major, and really only, misstep), she keeps her story gut-level honest by never shying away from her incisive criticism of churchianity (both before and after that momentous communion), her impatience with academic theology, and her willingness to acknowledge the messiness of juggling her emergent enthusiasm for Christianity with ongoing commitment to loved ones who do not share her faith.
But this is not really a book about conversion so much as it is a book about communion, which means it is a book about food. (more…)
My Weekend
Fran has begun taking guitar lessons, and last night she and Rhiannon and I attended a concert by her teacher’s band, The Georgia Fireflies. They do down home folk / bluegrass / Americana kind of stuff: Carter family and so forth. It was a fun gig. The concert took place at Decatur CD, which is arguably the coolest CD shop for miles around.
This morning I met a friend of mine for coffee and then joined another friend — whose first book was recently published — for lunch at the always-wonderful Café Sunflower in Sandy Springs.
Tonight we attended an art opening at the Art Station, Stone Mountain’s amazing arts center. The show supported the Women’s Caucus for Art of Georgia, and featured paintings by a couple of people we know.
Tomorrow morning I teach at the Episcopal Church of the Atonement; in the afternoon I’ll be working on my new book and then we’ll attend the evening mass at Corpus Christi.
What a great weekend.
Here are links to the various folks I’ve mentioned in this post…
- The Georgia Fireflies: www.georgiafireflies.com
- Decatur CD: decaturcd.blogspot.com
- Café Sunflower: www.cafesunflower.com
- The ART Station: www.artstation.org
- Women’s Caucus for Art in Georgia: www.wcaga.org
- Episcopal Church of the Atonement: atonement.episcopalatlanta.org
- Corpus Christi Catholic Church: www.corpuschristicc.org
Music. Art. Wonderful food. Great friends. Inspiring places to worship. Life is good.
A Catholic layman, an Orthodox bishop, and an Evangelical minister walked into a bar…
Early yesterday morning, a LiveJournal friend of mine named Seraphim Sigrist (an Eastern Orthodox bishop, no less) wrote a wonderful entry about an Evangelical mystic, A. W. Tozer (a Christian and Missionary Alliance pastor and the author of such books as The Knowledge of the Holy and The Pursuit of God), whom he had known many years ago. This is Seraphim’s way of pointing out that the anti-contemplative strain within some quarters of the evangelical world (such as Lighthouse Trails Research) is hardly the last word on how Protestants relate to the mystical tradition. Recognizing that I don’t have that many Evangelicals in my rogues’ gallery of mystics, I thought my readers might enjoy this ecumenical moment, in which a Catholic blogger suggests you read an Orthodox bishop’s paean to an Evangelical mystic.
We are one body, after all.
Click here to read Seraphim Sigrist’s Encomium for A. W. Tozer.
The Road to Emmaus
I had this thought recently: isn’t the Emmaus story (Luke 24) emblematic of the mystical journey?
Pilgrims are walking along, and encounter Christ, and do not even realize it. They recognize Christ in the breaking of the bread. He vanishes and they are left, changed forever, with the memory of his words burning in their heart.
Sounds to me like purgation, illumination, union…
