Ranges Community Church

…our hearts felt strangely warm (Luke 24,32)

Is it possible that we have got it wrong? I believe so! I hope so! But ultimately I don’t know so!

I find something reassuring, comforting, something that engenders a huge sigh of relief about the language of inclusivity; exclusivity on the other hand is the language of the elite the small minded, the scrooges, those with a microscopic worldview, they have a broad view of who is out and a myopic view of who is in, it’s the language of the upper class. They live in the most exclusive departure lounge of all, they are ‘prayed and packed and ready to go’ this is one departure lounge I would rather not think about.

I remember seeing a film once about Vietnam vets, wounded and returned home they were still distraught even decades latter, because they had buddies they ‘left behind”

To be lead to buried treasure is one thing, to then go out and purchase the field and set up signs saying ‘buried treasure all are welcome’ and then set up sentry guards to protect the property is unfortunately the practice of the old evangelical elite, we might have stumbled upon this ‘free gift’ but our message is…’God loves our world so much…but we are now licensed to give out salvation passes.

Contemplatives are convinced of loves inclusivity, why? To constantly expose ones heart to the author of love is to be left with absolutely no other option. Most contemplatives (make that all!) are not protestant but catholic (why? They understand the meaning of solitude!) Truth be told its hard to imagine a Pentecostal or Calvinist contemplative, there is far to much to do and so little time, there definition of contemplation might look a little like this…Stopping at a red light with revved up motor to believe in exclusivity requires very little thought, more often than not it is a knee jerk reaction based on a casual glimpse of scripture.

Contemplatives have made a startling discovery God is a lover! Spend enough time with this God and you will come down from the mountain with good news and peace to all men not armed to the teeth like a crazed fundamentalist.

Read books like The Prodigal or Beloved and you risk walking away feeling good about God, and usually when I feel good about God I feel good about myself, truth be told (for me at least) the two are inseparable

When I was a child my mother would leave us at home to go shopping she would be gone for a few hours (for us it seemed like most of the day!) we would be waiting at the window looking down the road to see if mum was in sight, we would be full of eager expectation. When she arrived home the first thing she would say was; ‘guess what I’ve got for you’ without fail she would always be the bearer of ‘good tidings’

For those of us who attempt to follow Christ, we feel so flawed, we feel that we do it so poorly, so imperfectly, so often at war within ourselves, feeling a little like the self-conscious teenager on her first date, overwhelmed with feelings of inadequacy, questions such as; ‘am I beautiful enough, do I look pretty, what will he think, will he reject me for someone better looking, better dressed’ she desperately needs affirmation and assurance, no amount of looking in the mirror will change this, she feels like an ugly duckling, this affirmation needs to come from the one for whom she is waiting.

I’ve become a great admirer of Richard Rohr and Henri Nouwen when I read there books I feel a great sense of relief, its one think to tell me that God loves me (and you had better change or else!) because you’ve read it somewhere in the bible, and understand it at an academic level, we all know that this is true, but the bible can compound the feeling of isolation if we are honest we would all admit that it can be an ‘awfully lonely book’ at times. When looking for comfort and affirmation the bearer of these tidings brings or removes credibility by the sheer force of his life! The bearer either contaminates the message or creates a sense of great expectation.

Quoting the bible ad-nausem has little effect on most people, some Christians feel that the bible has some sort of magical ability to change things in an instant, if only this was true it’s a little like being stuck in the freezer and someone telling you to ‘feel warm inside’ because God loves you, within this environment one is so overwhelmed by ones surroundings so preoccupied with a pressing present reality that any other frame of references is nigh impossible.

Jesus had this happy knack with individuals of somehow connecting with the center and not the fringe, so in touch with the father, so selective with his words, as to be sparing in the extreme, as someone once said Jesus could say in two words what I could never say with a thousand.

Like Moses these contemplatives come down from the mountain and declare with a sigh of relief, that all is well, we so need to hear this, and we so need to be reassured by those who for whatever reason find themselves closer to the father than we are, center speaks to center, there is a sense of genuine credibility with those whom we know have spend time with God who like Moses ooze his presence they come down from the mountain and then declare; “ you are created by a God who wants all your attention who wants to give you all the love you need”  ( Henri Nouwen).

When I look at Protestantism, I so often mix with individuals who have embraced modernism and one of its most dangerous off spring, rationalism. Like seasoned professionals the preoccupation is always with words, with a brand of faith that can only be described as propositionalist ‘you believe this, and this will happen, you claim this, you get that’ parrot fashion faith is ok if your training birds in an aviary, sadly this produces nothing but parrots, one that disengages the heart, one that’s largely out of touch with the heart, when faith is reduced to something resembling a sales presentation many many words will be needed, and many if not most will be wasted. Words might work for Spock.

Richard Rohr has demonstrated time and again, that out of his relationship with the father, one that has been seasoned through time, solitude and silence, come words, sacred words that give enormous strength, it is these words that give one such hope, such affirmation such a feeling of relief, a feeling that all is well.

The contemplative life enables one to be a ‘first hand observer’. The’ fringe dwellers’ are describing someone else’s picture with large pieces of the original missing. The only way to make up for the missing pieces is with rhetoric. On a cold dark night of the soul the last things anyone needs is rhetoric. It’s hard to start any fire with words