“A Mystical View of the Interior of a Ruined Church”
Lots of people have told me they love the cover design of The Big Book of Christian Mysticism. I had nothing to do with it. Thankfully, I like it too. It’s not perfect, but it’s perfect enough (just like the book itself). After so many people told me how much they liked it, I asked my contact at my publisher where the image came from. It actually is a royalty-free image from an online stock photo supplier, so I ponied up the money necessary to buy the rights to use it on my website. So here it is…
Unfortunately, the supplier will not forward requests for more information to the photographer, so I am unable to find out where the image was originally shot: the name of the church, its location, etc. The only information that came with the photo was this title: “A Mystical View of the Interior of a Ruined Church.” So that’s all I know about it. The photographer’s portfolio also includes a similar image shot at a church in Sardinia, so I’m thinking this may well be from somewhere in sourthern Europe or even in the Mediterranean. But I’m just guessing. If anyone online can confirm where this site might be, I’d appreciate it…
UPDATE: I kept poking around online, and have found this same image listed on a European stock photo site, fotolia. This sheds some more light (pardon on the pun) on the image: the photographer is named Francesco Pirrone, and the image is identified as a “Ruined Italian church.” My confidence over eventually learning where this image actually comes from is increasing…
Quote for the Day
The prophetic voice and the spirit of inner prayer are not two alternative ways of Christian witness: they are inseparable in a healthy Christian life, and history shows that where they are not held together, both decay.
— Kenneth Leech, Prayer and Prophecy:
The Essential Kenneth Leech
What do Brian McLaren and Carolyn Myss have in common?
What do Brian McLaren and Carolyn Myss have in common? And, for that matter, Phyllis Tickle, Cynthia Bourgeault, and Richard Rohr? They have all endorsed The Big Book of Christian Mysticism.
Over the last few weeks, while I’ve been proofreading the manuscript, the publisher and I have sent it out to a number of authors, college professors, and clergypersons, for feedback and potential endorsements. Now, to God be the glory in all of this: to date we have received the following responses, all of which simply blow me away with their praise and enthusiasm for the book.
So please indulge me for a minute as I switch from “blogger” to “marketing” mode, and list here the wonderful things that folks are saying about the Big Book. To make this extra fun, I’m providing images and links to books written by these folks themselves.
Praise for The Big Book of Christian Mysticism:
Mysticism is not mystifying at all, but simple, always available, and utterly clarifying. Carl McColman’s much needed book will allow you to experience this for yourself. Christians and all Seekers will find both meat and dessert in such a full meal.
— Richard Rohr, author of Things Hidden:
Scripture as Spirituality
Charmingly and conversationally written, but also rich in nuance and thorough in its coverage and its attention to detail, The Big Book is, as its name suggests, a big…even an enormous…contribution to our current literature on the subject. Highly recommended.
— Phyllis Tickle, author of The Great Emergence:
How Christianity is Changing and Why
Before I heard about The Big Book of Christian Mysticism, I had been thinking about how such a book has been needed for a long time. Now, having read it, I’m glad we waited for Carl McColman to come along to write it. It’s accessible, human, well-informed, balanced, broad … just what we needed.
— Brian D. McLaren, author of A New Kind of Christianity:
Ten Questions That Are Transforming the Faith
A wise and supportive guidebook for those going deeper on the Christian mystical path, The Big Book of Christian Mysticism is grounded in sound scholarship and thoughtful reflection (often surprisingly fresh and insightful!), but what makes it sing is the authenticity of the author’s own contemplative journey.
— Cynthia Bourgeault, author of The Wisdom Jesus:
Transforming Heart and Mind — A New
Perspective on Christ and His Message
The Big Book of Christian Mysticism is truly a work of art as well as a spiritual guide for those who want to know more about Christian mysticism. Writing for a broad audience of readers, Carl wants everyone to become aware of that rich history and its potential meaning for today. He writes in a lively, engaging style, but his work comes out of deep wells of spiritual wisdom. Appealing to both head and heart, his book not only makes the history of Christian mysticism accessible, but also provides for readers guidance in prayer, contemplation, and transformation itself. For Carl, the great mystics are not just people specially gifted, but soul friends and spiritual mentors for anyone who seeks to live today with some degree of interiority, integrity, and joy. I highly recommend this book not only for general readers interested in mysticism and spirituality, but also for undergraduate or graduate students who need an introduction to what Carl himself calls “this ancient wisdom tradition.”
— Edward C. Sellner, author of
Wisdom of the Celtic Saints
In this delightfully accessible book, Carl McColman dispels the notion that Christian mysticism exists somewhere in the ether, and reveals its solid, earthy roots. If you want a rich, nourishing life of faith, and virtues that flourish like wildflowers, read The Big Book of Christian Mysticism, and let the good news in it transform you.
— Claudia Mair Burney, author of God Alone is Enough:
A Spirited Pilgrimage with St. Teresa of Avila
With his Big Book, Carl McColman has pulled off a tour de force: a work on Christian mysticism that is broadly accessible, but deep; scholarly but not pedantic; reverent, but judicious; thorough, but a good read; an excellent introduction to the subject for the general reader, but with plenty of meat for the specialist. Highly recommended for the neophyte, the informed, and the expert alike.
— Robert Davis Hughes III, author of Beloved Dust:
Tides of the Spirit in the Christian Life
In The Big Book of Christian Mysticism, Carl McColman offers us a thorough and engaging exploration of Christian mysticism, which he defines as a form of alchemy – that is, transformation through the Source of all Love. His wise and clear writing takes us on a wide journey through both classical and contemporary mystic guides. Ultimately he invites us to catch a glimpse of the heart of Mystery through concrete suggestions for mystical practice and be transformed ourselves.
— Christine Valters Paintner, author of
Water, Wind, Earth, & Fire: The Christian
Practice of Praying with the Elements
If you are looking for both a primer on Christian mysticism as well as an in-depth treatment of this oft-misunderstood aspect of the spiritual life, here is your book. Readable, useful, well-researched, Carl McColman’s book helps both the novice and those already well along on the journey toward a deeper relationship with God to see that mysticism is ultimately not at all a mysterious quest, but a human — and possible — one.
— Paul Wilkes, Author of Beyond the Walls:
Monastic Wisdom for Everyday Life
The Big Book of Christian Mysticism is a masterpiece of scholarship and wisdom. Carl McColman obviously earned his understanding of mysticism through years of research as well as his own personal spiritual journey and there is no more powerful combination for inspired writing.
— Carolyn Myss, author of Entering the Castle:
Finding the Inner Path to God
and Your Soul’ Purpose
The Big Book of Christian Mysticism is wise and wonderful, deceptively simple! Are you interested in having a relationship with something that’s ultimately unknowable? Me too. It’s not easy, but dig in, here!
— Jon M. Sweeney, author of Cloister Talks:
Learning from My Friends the Monks
Meanwhile… if you haven’t done so already, please take a moment and pre-order the book here: The Big Book of Christian Mysticism.
Stephen Prothero on “Separate Truths”
If you are interested in interfaith dialog, please take a few minutes and read this article by Boston University professor Stephen Prothero:
I’m on an email list where people are discussing this article, and folks have mixed feelings about it. I think it’s challenging for liberal-minded folks to have one of our cherished ideals — “way deep down beneath cultural differences, we are really all the same” — called into question. But I, frankly, pretty much agree with Prothero all the way. I think that religious tolerance and interfaith dialog are important because they are valuable in themselves, and not because of any kind of romanticized “unity” at the foundation of all religions. I think it’s simply more honest to acknowledge that there are some ways in which Christianity and Buddhism, or Islam and Neopaganism, or (insert two religions of your choice) are simply irreconcilable — at least, as long as we are serious about honoring both faiths. I think when western liberals start talking about “all religions are the same,” what we often really mean is that “all religions have encoded in them our highest ideals — and if they don’t, then something is wrong with them.” Then the point behind such liberal “interreligious dialog” is the gradual stripping away of everything that impedes the romantic vision of unity. Perhaps what is left is a nice way to hang out together, but it might also result in destroying much of the unique beauty of the world’s great religions.
In the article, Prothero uses the Christian concept of salvation as an example of why he thinks we need to acknowledge the deep differences between faiths. Other religions, such as Buddhism, simply lack any correlative concept of “salvation.” On the email list I subscribe to, people began talking about how salvation means different things to different Christians, which of course is very true. I’m the kind of Christian who thinks that an understanding of salvation that is truly rooted in the gospel — in the actual teachings of Jesus — leaves plenty of room for an understanding of Christian discipleship that does not require “converting the world.” Of course, other Christians will disagree with me. Part of the beauty of Christianity is that we have such broadly divergent views. If we get serious about “all religions are the same,” then perhaps we need to root out of Christianity those “negative” voices that disagree with such a perspective. In other words, Christians who want to play nice with the Buddhists end up getting hostile to other Christians, who think the Buddhists are lost without Jesus. See how messy this gets in a hurry?
The way I see it: If all Christians (or all Muslims, or all Neopagans, or whomever) can’t even agree on their religious identity within the same faith, then how can we meaningfully speak of a universal religious unity? To be clear: I am not arguing against religious tolerance or meaningful interfaith cooperation and dialog. I just think that such endeavors need to be honest: not based on “let’s play nice together because we’re all the same down deep inside,” but rather “let’s play nice together because it’s a good thing to play nice together.” Only then can our interfaith work truly be founded on reality (and contain the hope of bearing authentic fruit).
But of course, you might disagree with me (and Professor Prothero), so I’d love to hear your comments…
A Requiem for Finishing the Editing Process
So… you know the feeling when you’ve rushed to get to the airport, and dealt with parking, and ticketing, and security, and after what seems like an eternity you board your flight and find your seat, and only then you can finally relax. Before long the flight attendants close the door and show the security film and then the plane begins to taxi out, away from the terminal and heading out to the tarmac, and the moment arrives when it is waiting in line to take off. And at that moment, it seems for the first time really, you are able to let go of all the stress involved in getting to that point, and now you can take a deep breath, and relax, and feel the excitement of all that is about to come into your life, because all you have to do now is wait for the plane to take off, and then your trip will truly be underway.
You know that feeling? That’s how I feel today.
This morning I submitted the corrected proofs for The Big Book of Christian Mysticism to my publisher. This means that I am now completely done with the editing process of my book. Over the next few weeks I’ll be sent a few pages to sign off on some last minute changes, but beyond that, my work is done. Now I can relax and wait for the book to get published — and feel the excitement build as the release date nears.
It’s been quite a journey. I first envisioned the idea of an introductory book on Christian mysticism, believe it or not, while I was a practicing Neopagan — perhaps twelve or thirteen years ago now. My agent and I pitched the idea to several editors, but we never seemed to find a home for the book. In the meantime, I grew restless with Paganism and chose to return to Christianity, and in doing so, forged a web of truly wonderful relationships with the monks and lay associates of the monastery where I now work. Immersing myself into contemplative spirituality, for a while I gave up on writing altogether, except for my blog. But then one day the editor who had shepherded two of my books — Embracing Jesus and the Goddess and 366 Celt — called me up and asked me what I was up to. We schmoozed for a bit and then I brought up that dormant idea of a beginner’s book on Christian mysticism. It turned out that he was editing a series of what he called “big books” — like The Big Book of Near Death Experiences, or The Big Book of Soul — and so he suggested that a work on Christian mysticism would fit in nicely with that concept. He had me send him a proposal, to which he promptly replied with a publishing contract.
That was in the fall of 2007. Originally we decided that I would have until January of ’09 to finish the book — but I kept pushing the deadline back. Sometimes this was in response to challenges that arose in my life, such as the burglary that brought havoc into my home in the spring of 2008, when I lost not only my laptop, but even my backup (which I foolishly kept on a memory stick, plugged in — you guessed it — to the computer itself). But even worse for any hopes I had to complete the manuscript on time was my ongoing angst over the book’s audience and tone. Was this book for Christians, or non-Christians, or both? For Catholics, or for all Jesus people? Should I be selling mysticism to Christians, or selling Christianity to mystical seekers (or both)? I knew I couldn’t write an academic book, nor was that what my editor wanted, but by the same token I couldn’t just turn my back on the history of Christian mysticism. Finding the perfect balance between scholarship and personal experience, between apologetics for mysticism and apologetics for the Christian faith, consumed much of the writing process. More than once I jettisoned all or most of what I had written and started over. Missing the January ’09 deadline, I pushed back to April, then May, then July. When July 2009 came and went, the phone calls from my editor get testier and testier. Finally, in the middle of August I turned in a manuscript, haunted by the fear that I had written a truly awful book.
If my editor agreed with me, he never let on — but he did suggest that the book was about 20% too long, and rather than ask me to butcher my own baby, he brought in a hired gun to shave off the fat. It was a saving grace. Even though I then had to go back and, often as not, clean up the new messes created by the copyeditor’s zeal to fix my original mess, the end result — which I wrapped up this past February on the Feast of St. Scholastica, just days after the passing of my beloved 20-year-old cat — was a book that, no matter its faults and weaknesses, I could live with. And then, when at the beginning of this month I saw the page layouts, my enthusiasm for this book finally eclipsed my self-doubt and second guessing. The proofreading process proved to be simply a joy, and in the meantime early reviews of the book — from other writers who have been asked to consider endorsing it — have been overwhelmingly kind.
So I’m done. Of course, I’m not done in the sense that I will now turn my attention to marketing and promotion, important tasks that must accompany the publication of any book. I’m not done in the sense that soon I will be settling down to write yet another book, and of course, on a daily basis there’s always this blog. But the years I have spent dreaming about, then writing, and finally editing, The Big Book of Christian Mysticism, are now behind me. The book is not perfect, but it’s perfect enough. I can finally say with complete sincerity that, if you enjoy my blog, then I believe you’ll love this book.
And that’s exciting. I can finally stop worrying about actually making it to the airport, and now just embrace the promised adventure of the trip to come. Thanks for being part of the adventure thus far. Here’s to exhilirating times to come!
Signing off (briefly)…
Dear friends,
I have received the PDFs of the layout of my forthcoming Big Book of Christian Mysticism. The publisher needs my corrections and comments by April 23. That may sound like plenty of time, but do remember that I work full time, plus I’m teaching two classes this month! So my time is actually at a premium, and I need to be establishing boundaries to make sure that I can honor the commitments I have.
For this reason, I will be taking a break from this blog until the last week of the month.
Of course, if I have a gotta-write-it idea for the blog, I’ll try to squeeze it in, and if I come up with a clever quote or two to post, I will. So the blog will probably not be entirely dormant for the next three weeks. But it might be. And in any event, I don’t plan on posting every day, no matter what inspiration rolls my way. Not until the proofreading is done.
So please keep me and my book in your prayers… and I’ll be back to blogging as soon as that project is completed.
Training Your Dragon
We went to see How to Train Your Dragon last night, and were delighted. It’s quite a fun movie, filled with action, but good for kids aged about 7 up; it’s got a wonderful storyline about learning to think outside the, er, dragon’s nest and looking for solutions to problems that don’t involve violence. It portrays disabled characters with dignity and grace. But perhaps the most important message of all has to do with fear. The hero, Hiccup (gotta love his name) is a runt of a Viking, a scrawny little geek of a kid born into a culture where brawn and brute strength are everything. Their homeland happens to be in the flightpath of dragons who regularly come by to steal their sheep (and torch the town, apparently for the sheer fun of it). Consequently, part of being a “real” Viking is having the will and the strength to fight, and kill, the fearsome, flying, fire-breathing beasts.
Although Hiccup trains with the other youths of the village in the art of dragon-fighting, he is rejected by his peers for the weakling nerd that he is. Meanwhile, during one spectacular dragon fight he manages to wound a dragon, and tracks it into the woods — but, seeing the fear in the eye of the creature, cannot bring himself to kill it. Instead, he befriends the dragon, naming it Toothless; he feeds it and helps it to heal, and… well, you know the name of the movie, and if you’ve seen the trailer you know that it involves Avatar-worthy flying sequences.
To me, the real heart of the movie comes after Hiccup has been discovered by Astrid, the girl he adores (and who, alone of all his classmates, figures out that he’s up to something). After Hiccup’s disastrous attempt to show the entire village that it would make more sense to befriend the dragons than continually fight them, he is left behind when a war party sails off — with Toothless in chains on the deck of the lead ship. Heartbroken, Hiccup gazes into the empty sea, and Astrid talks to him. She asks him why he couldn’t just kill Toothless when he had the chance. He hangs his head in shame and mutters that he was afraid, in fact the first Viking ever to be afraid to kill a dragon. Astrid points out that he was also the first Viking ever to fly with a dragon.
This simple re-framing forces Hiccup to see that fear may have been what he was feeling, but ultimately it was compassion that led him to spare the wounded dragon’s life — and that set into motion the series of events that caused him to rethink everything that his people “knew” was true. Understanding the dignity and power of his choice, Hiccup finds the courage to “do something crazy” and — with the help of his schoolmates who now respect him — goes on to save the day, and to forever change the way the Vikings relate to the dragons.
I think it’s so easy, even for Christians, to dismiss fear as the opposite of love — sort of a junior cousin to hate, which must equally be vanquished and transcended as we seek to grow spiritually. After all, the New Testament bluntly states that “love casts out fear” (I John 4:18). But maybe sometimes there is more to fear than meets the eye. If we befriend our fear, we might learn that it is not just a power that prevents us from doing what we want or need to do, but it can also be a sort of circuit-breaker, causing us to stop for a moment and allow submerged (but vital) dynamics — like Hiccup’s compassion — a chance to manifest. Seen this way, fear is far more than just the privation of love. It can even be a true gift. Perhaps this kind of fear is what the Hebrew Scriptures calls “the Fear of the Lord” — not fear directed at God, but rather fear given to us by God, that causes us to stop and see things in a new way. That sure sounds like “the beginning of wisdom” to me (Psalm 111:10).
Theologian Johann-Baptist Metz once said that religion could be defined in a single word: “Interruption.” Fear can be an interruption that leads to a new way of seeing things, the beginning of wisdom. Perhaps we should even pray that such a fear be given to us. It is not a permanent gift: as soon as it delivers its message, it needs to be cast out (by love). Even the fear of the Lord is only the beginning, not the culmination, of wisdom. Back to the movie: perhaps the dragons are metaphors for our fears. We can try to kill them, but they’ll just keep coming back, stealing our sheep and burning our villages. It is only when we befriend them and learn to fly them that they will unleash within us the power to transform our lives.
Three Generations of Technological Change
I took this picture this afternoon of Fran and Rhiannon showing off Rhiannon’s (well, our, actually) new toy — an iPad — to my father. As we sat together and talked about, and explored, all that the iPad could do, my father began to talk about how when he was younger, television was such an innovative technology. “My next door neighbor had one, and kept telling me I should buy one, as it was the wave of the future,” he mused. I asked him how old he was when he saw a TV for the first time. “I was in New York, and they had one at a store near Times Square,” he replied. I said, “Was that in ’45?” He nodded. Dad met, and married, my New Yorker mother in 1945, when he was only about 22 years old.
I was about that age when I first encountered a cool new form of technology. I was a senior in college in 1982, when the chairman of my department acquired an Apple II. I remember when a group of students went over to his house and we spent the afternoon playing on the computer. Later on I visited him by myself, and we ended up doing the same thing. Not too different from my Dad visiting his next door neighbor to watch TV — or the four of us, now with Rhiannon in her early 20s, sitting down together with an iPad.
From television to the personal computer to the tablet. What will be the gotta-share-it technology for the next generation?
Dangerous Easter?
I once heard an Easter Sunday sermon at an Episcopal Church in which the priest detailed on what day Easter Sunday would fall every year for the forthcoming 25 years. Of course, this is easy to do: the current version of the Book of Common Prayer includes a table listing the date of Easter each year from 1900 to 2089! The point behind the sermon was that we have tamed Easter, made it safe and predictable, and so we rather mindlessly go through the motions of remembering the passion, death of resurrection of Christ at the beginning of every spring. And then we go back to living our lives as if nothing has changed. And, consequently, nothing does change.
But if we had no idea when Easter would spring forth into our lives? What if the power of resurrection could burst open the literal and metaphorical tombs of our lives, in any place at any time? How would that change things? What if Easter were… well, dangerous? What if Easter threatened to shatter our comfort and mindlessness, turn our lives upside down, challenge us and demand from us our very lives?
What would Easter look like then? And how would we respond?
Quote for the Day
He who begins by loving Christianity better than Truth, will proceed by loving his own Sect or Church better than Christianity, and end in loving himself better than all.
— Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Aids to Reflection
Live, Laugh, Love
I have been asked to lead a retreat at the Guesthouse of the Monastery of the Holy Spirit in September. The person who originally was in charge of the retreat is unable to lead it, and so I have inherited it. It is called “Live, Laugh, Love” and it sounds like it will be tremendous fun. Here is the write-up for the retreat, as it appears on the Monastery’s Website:
Live, Laugh, Love
September 13-16, 2010
The Live, Laugh, Love Retreat is a Celebration — celebrating our relationship with God. It is an uplifting, joyous expression of our connection to our Creator and all of creation, a time of gratitude. Through our connection to Christ and the Holy Spirit, we come to recognize the hospitality of our hearts, and come to understand the value of each of us as participants in the unfolding of God’s plan.
I’ll be working with Fr. Tom Francis, one of the monks at the Monastery; he will be speaking on prayer and probably also on the joyful love found at the heart of the Holy Trinity. Although I haven’t firmed up the details yet, I think there’s plenty of room on this retreat to explore the Fruits of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, etc.), the too-often-neglected question of humor in the spiritual life, finding joy in the midst of pain and suffering, and the relationship between theosis and sanctification and the call to live a full, deep, satisfying life.
So please come to this retreat! Note that it is a “mid-week” retreat, beginning on a Monday and running through a Thursday. In other words, it is perfect for clergy, church employees, and others who are for whatever reason unable to attend weekend events — and it is also ideal for retirees or for anyone who wants to take a few days off and relish the silence of a Trappist monastery!
The Monastery of the Holy Spirit is located in Conyers, Georgia, just outside of Atlanta. Suggested donation for staying at the Guesthouse is $60-$100 a night (sliding scale), which includes meals. To register for this retreat or for more information, call 770-760-0959.
Also, a reminder of the other retreats I’ll be co-leading this summer at the Monastery:
June 4-6, 2010:
Spiritual Writing and Journal Keeping
(with Fr. James Behrens, OCSO)
Explore your personal connection between the inner life and the written word. This weekend includes time for silence, for journaling, and for reflections on the relationship between writing and the spiritual life.
Suitable for professional and amateur writers at all skill levels, this weekend does not include personal criticism or feedback. Instead, it simply creates a space where you can write, you can pray, and perhaps even combine the two into a unified spiritual practice. New for 2010: the weekend will include breakout sessions – one for bloggers & journalists, the other for professional (and aspiring professional) writers – where writers with similar goals and interests can gather to share ideas and experiences.
July 23-25, 2010:
Wisdom of the Christian Mystics
(with Fr. Tom Francis, OCSO)
From the Desert Fathers to Julian of Norwich to Thomas Merton, Christian history is filled with stories of men and women who experienced a profound sense of God’s presence in their lives. Can the teachings of the mystics still speak to us today? The mystics themselves would say “yes” – and furthermore, that their message is not just for priests or monks or nuns, but is indeed meant for the entire people of God. With this in mind, during this weekend we will look at several ways in which the wisdom of the Christian mystics can provide insight and inspiration for our age. This will include the universal call to holiness – St. Paul ‘s directive to “pray without ceasing,” and the promise from the Psalms to “be still and know God.”
For more information or to register, click here.
Foolish Mysteries
I think there is some serendipity in Maundy Thursday (or Holy Thursday, for those not of English extraction) falling on April Fool’s Day. Actually, the Maronites and the Syriac Orthodox call the day before Good Friday the “Thursday of Mysteries” which is my favorite name yet for this pinnacle of the Eucharistic life.
In his first letter to the church at Corinth, St. Paul proudly proclaimed that we are “fools for Christ’s sake” (I Corinthians 4:10); earlier in that same epistle he notes that “God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong” (I Corinthians 1:27). Now granted, there are plenty of other places in the New Testament where foolishness is derided. But I’m rather fond of the idea of being a holy fool. Following George Burns, I’m convinced that any God who created the duck-billed platypus and who made avocado seeds so ridiculously large simply has to have a sense of humor. And both Martin Luther and C.S. Lewis rightly noted that the best way to dispel evil is, well, to make fun of it. If there’s anything our ego cannot stand, it is to be the object of derision. But deeper than the grasping self is our truest identity, bellowing with laughter like the Buddha on whippits.
So today we mark the tense and intense night of the Last Supper, when, just hours before he was arrested, Jesus washed his disciples feet, told them to love and another and to abide in him, and then broke bread and shared wine with them, speaking the words that we have been repeating in our Communion liturgies ever since. Can we imagine that there was laughter at the Lord’s Supper? Even with the reality that Jesus would be dead in less than a day’s time? Of course, no one but perhaps Judas would have known at that point just how imminent would be the unraveling of Jesus’ ministry. Presumably the others would have simply been sharing a passover meal with their rabbi — solemn, perhaps; reverent, of course; but no need to avoid chuckling over the little moments of humor that life is continually tossing our way.
It bothers me that St. Benedict was sour on laughter. In the chapter on the degrees of humility, Benedict notes that a truly humble monk “is not given to ready laughter” (RB 7:59); and in the chapter on restraint of speech, Benedict condemns all “talk leading to laughter” (RB 6:8). But that, perhaps, is a clue to where Benedict was coming from. There is laughter born of joy, and laughter born of scorn. Perhaps rather than draw distinctions between the two, Benedict realized that scorn could undermine community, and thus simply needed to be banned; as for joyful laughter, Benedict felt that the life of a monk should be a continual lent, and so probably felt that amusements did not need to be sought out. However, even if a humble person is not given to ready laughter, I think we can parse that out to suggest that even the holiest of person will still find amusement when it naturally comes their way.
So while I would agree with Benedict that we should be mindful about how we laugh, I also think we need to remember Paul’s advice to “rejoice in the Lord” (Philippians 4:4), and if laughter isn’t linked to rejoicing, then I don’t know what is. So rejoice on this Feast of Fools, and take particular joy in the most “foolish” feast of all, wherein bread becomes the body and wine the precious blood. In our joy the greatest of sourpusses cannot remove the twinkling of our eyes or the songs in our hearts — light and laughter that can see us through whatever darkness the world might throw at us, even the darkness of a cross.
P.S. If you haven’t seen Babette’s Feast, there’s a movie to watch for today, filled with quiet humor and a powerfully Eucharistic story. Enjoy!
