Tuesday, December 1, 2015

"The Descent of Tender Love: The Christmas Story"

Ps. 116:5, NIRV 

    There is a Søren Kierkegaard parable that helps us understand the coming of God’s tender love in the Christmas story—in the Incarnation:

     There was once a young king who—unbeknownst to anyone—fell in love with a humble maiden in his kingdom.  Even though his love gave him joy, he also found himself in a troubling predicament.  How was he to make his love known?  If he came to the maiden with all his mighty kingly love, she might cower; he would never know her true heart.  Would she really love him?—for he indeed wanted there to be a mutuality of love and understanding between them.  Might she hide secret regrets?  She might not feel she was worthy of such love.  Or, because of his power, she might feel she hadn’t really been able to make up her own mind.  “Did she fully love him, after all?” she might wonder later.  No, the king would not command her love!

     Kierkegaard says this is what it is like to be “the object of God’s love”—a God who longs for a real “point of union” with us, not one in which we feel we are constrained by God’s majesty and power.

     In the parable the young king finally decides there was only one thing to do: he will take on the humble circumstances of a peasant and go into the maiden’s community incognito—as one who serves.  As an equal, he hopes to win her genuine love.

     Kierkegaard compares this story to the Incarnation: Jesus coming among us in the “likeness of the humblest”—in “servant-form,” as one who experiences “all sorrow and all love” in his sojourn among us.[1]  Love Came Down at Christmas! (Christina Rossetti).

     And the humble nature of God’s gift and coming is never more evident than in the stable [2]:

In a shabby stablea tender Babe.
In a straw-filled mangerthe Child of God.

To shabby heartscomes such TENDERNESS.
As a lamb calls its mother
there’s a vision of angels
and the tender descent
of our God

earthy, humble,                    
intimate, defenseless,
the tender descent
of God. 

     There is no greater representation of God’s sacred tenderness than the Nativity: an utterly vulnerable Babe lying in a lowly manger in a cattle stall.  Meanwhile angels sing of God’s glory, love, and unspeakable gift to unkempt shepherds, considered to be among the least of these in the culture of that day.

      “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us…,” Luke tells us (1:78, NRSV).  And this “dawn from on high”—Jesus—would come in great vulnerability to teach us about the Kingdom of God, where we are the beloved of a King.  However, Jesus teaches us to see a King who would rather be known as our beloved Father or Abba (Papa, Dad[3]) than as a distant, much-feared King-Lord. 


Jesus, the Son (or Mediator; 1 Tim. 2:5) shows us all this in

words, in tender love and compassion, and then finally by

giving his all—his life. The Apostle Paul says: “For you know

the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich,

yet for your sake he became poor, so that you through his

poverty might become rich [in God’s grace, love, and mercy]”;

2 Cor. 8:9, NIVMeanwhile, Jesus also tells us, "The Father

and I are one"; Jn. 10:30, NRSV, NRSVCE.  All Jesus does is a

mirror of the Father’s heart (Luther).[4]

 

     Anthony Bloom helps us understand the tenderness and mystery of the revelation that comes to us in the Christmas story:


[T]he impossible thing, is that the Inaccessible One has become accessible, the transcendent God has become flesh and dwelt among us.  The holiness which surpassed every human notion and was a separation reveals itself to be otherwise: the very holiness of God can become infinitely close without becoming any the less mysterious. . . .  And when we see the crèche of the Nativity in our imagination . . . and can take the Child-God in our hands, we are confronted with a greater mystery than that of the imperceptible God.  How can we understand that the full depth of infinity and eternity lies here, hidden and at the same time revealed by a frail human body that is fragile and transparent to the presence of God? (emphasis ours).[5]
  
     Meanwhile, Pope Francis would tell us that in the Christmas story--in this story of the Incarnation--we see that “God is in love with our smallness, that he made himself small in order to better encounter us….”[6]  Yes, in the Christmas story we see, indeed, that God is in love with us!--smallness and all!  Furthermore, we see that (God helping us) we are to pass this love on to others--their smallness and all, notwithstanding. 

     Love is such a fragile, undersized word.  It is so difficult for it to contain 
all the graciousness, love-longing, mercy, forgiveness, tenderness (the list 
could go on and on) of God “stooping” in the Incarnation to meet us.  
Words could never capture it all!  LOVE-CAME-DOWN at Christmas: 
“stooping” to BE that love, to BE that Grace, to BE that mercy and 
forgiveness, to BE all of that love-longingto BE intimately close to us, 
and to BE our help—world without end (Lk. 2, Eph. 3:21; KJV).

     The great poet English George Herbert helps us see the "strange story" 
behind the mystery of LOVE-CAME-DOWN :

Then let me tell thee a strange story.
The God of power, as he did ride
In his majestic robes of glory,
Resolved to light; and so one day
He did descend, undressing all the way.[7]

     We are to picture God taking off all majestic robes to descend, to come as the Christ Child—“stooping”—joining us in utmost vulnerability: the tender, enfleshed Love of God.  We Western people like logical actions--explanations.  But when God gave us the greatest gift, it was in the “strange story” of a tender descent of Grace and dis-robed, vulnerable Love that would forever defy logic.


Further reflections for meditation upon our theme and the Season:

Christmas meditations (near the crèche):


⭐⭐⭐

                    


     (With meditation upon Jn. 14:18, 1 Jn. 4:16, and Christina Rossetti's 
poem "Love Came Down at Christmas.")

⭐⭐⭐

An opening to meditation/prayer (especially for Christmas Eve):

Oh, Baby Jesus, can I pick You up and hold You
and feel Your tiny breathing in my arms--
and feel the miracle of life
and breath spun from Your Father?
Dear Infant Jesus, soft
here 
in my arms . . .

     (The reader is invited to continue with her/his own imaginative 
meditations[8]--entering this scene with heart, mind, and soul.)

⭐⭐⭐

Tiny Miracle (an imaginative meditation[9] at the manger)
⭐⭐⭐

Bursting the Seams of Heaven (a Christmas meditation)” 

 LOVE-CAME-DOWN . . .

 to you; 


  LOVE-CAME-DOWN . . .

 to me--

     LOVE burst the seams of heaven . . . 

entered hiddenly,


took a shabby, stable bed

in the fragile flesh of a Babe:

in the humble flesh of you,

in the frail flesh of me . . .


bone of our bone, at last,

flesh of our flesh--


LOVE came down!


     (With reflection upon Lk. 2, Gen. 2:22-23, and C. Rossetti's poem.)

     "His love for us is sweetly tender, and wise, and strong.  It showed

itself tender ... in that it induced Him to assume our flesh." - St. Bernard

(Sermon XX on "The Song of Songs.") 

⭐⭐⭐



Prayer in the quiet awe of night: 

 



“Through the Pages of our Lives (a meditation upon ‘EMMANUEL: 

God-with-us’)”

(With reflection upon Mt. 28:20, 1:23; Ex. 3:12-14; 1 Kgs. 19:12;

Isa. 42:3; Gen. 26:3, 31:3; Rev. 21:3, etc.; and Walter Hilton’s classic

words: “the veins of . . . [God’s] whispering.” [10])

⭐⭐⭐



 (See additional blog posts after the “Notes” in Newer/Older Posts,
including more Christmas posts.[11])
………………….

Notes:


1. “Kierkegaard: A Parable of a King and a Maiden,” (from Philosophical Fragments,
Chap. 2); in A Glorious Revolution:
https://trinitypastor.wordpress.com/2009/02/10/kierkegaard-a-parable-of-a-king-and-a-maiden/.
2. Meditations, prayer/poetry/proverbs throughout by Lorraine B. Eshleman
(exception: see Note 7).
3. See Mk. 14:36 (regarding Abba, many scholars believe this intimate Aramaic address
for Father must have been used more frequently by Jesus, since it shows up in
usage by the early church, e.g., Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6).  Also see Pope Francis’s
thoughts about Abba (quoted earlier) in "Pope Francis and the Tender 'Music
of the Language of the Lord'";
4. Martin Luther, Large Catechism (1529).
5. Metropolitan Anthony [Bloom] of Sourozh with Marghanita Laski, God and Man
(London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1971, 2004), pp. 122-124.
6. Yonat Shimron, “’How do we welcome the tenderness of God?’ Pope Francis’s
Christmas Eve homily, Religious News Service, 12/24/14;
http://www.religionnews.com/2014/12/24/welcome-tenderness-god-pope-francis-christmas-eve-homily/.
7. George Herbert, “The Bag.”
8. This is a classic style of meditation. See this style discussed in "Why Christmas?
Why Christ?": in the text and Note 14 there;
9. See Note 8 above.
10. Walter Hilton, The Scale of Perfection, trans. John P. H. Clark and Rosemary Dorward (New York: Paulist Press, 1991) Book Two, No. 46, p. 302 (quoting
Job 4:12: “veins of his whispering”).




Thursday, November 19, 2015

"The World's Darkness, God's Love & Julian of Norwich"

Ps. 116:5, NIRV 

    Recently teens in our area were foiled in a credible plot to carry out a mass shooting at a nearby high school.  Why would teens (who feel slighted or filled with angry despair) choose this?--the darkest possible action against their peers.  Why are such incidents increasing in number?  Isn’t the world already dark enough?--with terrorist attacks, desperate refugees, pandemic scares, etc.  The list could go on and on.  (Indeed, in 2021 the list did go on: Oxford, MI where 4 students died in a school shooting--and 7 were wounded--is a short 20 miles from our home.)

     How often the world’s darkness hides God’s Tender Loving Care (TLC) described, for example, in Psalm 25, which speaks clearly of God’s TLC in the form of “tender mercies,” “lovingkindness,” and care throughout (ASV, KJV, WEB).

     Julian of Norwich, who has given us a great spiritual classic, lived 
during an especially dark time in history: several cycles of the Black 
Plague (reminding us of Covid in our time) had swept across her native 
England (14th c.).  At the same time, war between England and France 
was a constant, and famine knocked upon England’s door, as well.  

     In this atmosphere, Julian experienced her own personal darkness: an illness that carried her to death’s door—or perhaps beyond (?).  Julian went through what we would today call a near death experience.  What Julian saw repeatedly in that other-worldly experience was an astonishing account of the love of God—including an especially tender encounter with Jesus.  (Today Julian is revered with a feast day in Episcopalian, Catholic, and some Lutheran churches: a witness to the respect that is given to her spiritual classic Revelations of Divine Love, which is built upon what Julian saw and learned in this experience.)

     It was as if in this experience Julian saw beyond all the darkness that would ever be possible in this world and saw that this darkness could never outweigh the greatness and tenderness of God’s abiding love for us.  Julian’s experience reminds us of words from the Gospel of John, which speak of the revelation Jesus brought to us: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” or “The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness; the darkness couldn’t put it out” (Jn. 1:5, NIV and the Message paraphrase).

     Pope Francis speaks of being in “awe” or “a bit . . . out of ourselves” (and rightfully so!) when we experience something of the greatness of the love or joy of God.[1]  Julian was certainly beside herself--or almost out of herself--as she was filled with visions of God’s love in her near death experience.  She says: “And full greatly was I a stonned [stunned] for wonder and marvayle [marvel]” at the “ghostly sight of his homely lovyng [‘intimate love’].”[2]  (Note: Julian wrote in Middle English; this translation retains some of that original English.  Also, of importance is the fact that Julian is the very first woman to write in English—that is, in writings that have been preserved for us.)   

     It is almost as if Julian cannot find enough ways to speak about the love of God.  And yet, she does find ways—artful ways—to tell us of it, again and again.  In our personal estimation almost no one has been able to speak quite as beautifully, poetically, and assuredly of God’s love as Julian does in her great spiritual classic.

     In her many assurances it is as if Julian holds out a great, comforting, sheltering blanket, wraps it around us with the utmost tenderness, and says: I do this in the name of God.  This is how much God loves you—this is God’s TLC for you. In this she encircles and enfolds us with love in a similar fashion to that in which the author of Psalm 23 encircles us with God’s Shepherding love and care. 

     In regard to our metaphor of Julian’s comforting, sheltering blanket, note that the Holy Spirit is often called the Comforter in the Gospel of John (e.g., Jn. 14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7 in many translations).  The modern term “comforter” for a sheltering blanket could, indeed, be an appropriate metaphor (a metaphor that could be helpful in meditation) for God’s tender love as expressed by Julian.

     Regarding such comforting love, note these thoughts from Julian: 
[O]ur Lord showed me a spiritual sight of his familiar love.  I saw that he is to us everything which is good and comforting for our help.  He . . . is that love which wraps and enfolds us, embraces us and guides us, surrounds us for his love, which is so tender that he may never desert us.”  Or again, she says, [S]o are we, soul and body, clad and enclosed in the [secret of the] goodness of God.[3]    

     And why should this be so?  “For He beholdeth us so tenderly . . . ,” Julian says.  She also wishes us to know that “our courteous Lord willeth that we should be as homely [intimately comfortable] with Him as heart may think or soul may desire.”[4]  

     Julian speaks of God revealing divine secrets to us.  She knows that sometimes it will look like there is darkness all around us.  Yet in and through it all there is the hidden secret of God’s healing, uplifting love which God wishes to reveal: “. . . He has great tenderness, and therefore He will Himself make them [divine ‘secrets’] more open to us whereby we may know Him and love Him and cleave to Him.”[5]  

     And what is the center of God’s greatest secret“For our soul is so specially loved of Him that is highest [God], that it overpasseth [or ‘surpasses’] the knowing of all creatures. . . .”  Continuing, Julian says:

That is to say, there is no created being who can [fully] know how much and how sweetly and how tenderly the Creator loves us.  And therefore we can with his grace and his help persevere in spiritual contemplation [or "stand in spiritual beholding"], with endless wonder at this high, surpassing, immeasurable love which our Lord in his goodness has for us….[6]  

     However, Julian also knows that hearing about this is one thing, but having some inner sense, some experience of this, is another.  This is, indeed, another part of the secret: that God “will Himself make them [divine ‘secrets’] more open to us whereby we may know Him. . . .”  This inner sense about a divine secret is part of the Holy Spirit’s comforting; this is often called “spiritual consolation.”  We quoted Pope Francis above saying that sometimes one feels “awe” as a “consolation.”  Sensing God’s love is another form of “consolation.”  Pope Francis says, “Being Christian is being spiritually consoled.”  He also says we should ask for this gift: “Lord, give me this grace that is the sign of our encounter with you: spiritual consolation. . . .”[7]   

     Julian would also encourage us to ask for the gift of knowing this great divine secret: how much we are loved.   She sees that God wishes us to have a sense of this knowing and to be spiritually lifted and consoled by this intimate secret, which is the beginning of everything else in the spiritual life--including our love and care for others.  (“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you”; Mt. 7:7.)

     At the same time, Julian is concerned about us: she knows that it is human nature to succumb at times to “doubtful fear.”  She tells us that

“God wants to have doubtful fear, inasmuch as it induces to despair, turned in us into love by true knowledge of [God’s abiding] love, that is to say that the bitterness of doubt be turned into the sweetness of gentle love by grace, for it can never please our Lord that his servants [and children] doubt in his goodness.”[8]  

This again is a secret God wishes us to know in spite of whatever worldly darkness we may see or experience.

     Speaking of God’s consoling work on our behalf, Julian says that 
God’s “Mercy is a sweet gracious working in love, mingled with 
plenteous pity [compassion]: for mercy worketh in keeping us, and 
mercy worketh turning to us all things to good [cf. Rom. 8:28].”  

     Furthermore, Julian says: “For . . . I saw a marvellous compassion 
that our Lord hath in us for [or during] our woe ...”[9]  And this is true 
because in all, “[O]ur Lord showed me spiritually [part of Julian’s 
revelatory experience] how intimately he loves us.[10]

     And so we will find that if we seek and allow it, again and again, the Comforter will be at work in our souls.  Julian promises: “[T]enderly our Lord God toucheth us and blissfully calleth us, saying in our soul: Let be all thy love, my dearworthy child: turn thee to me—I am enough to [or for] thee . . .  And this is all because of the overwhelming love of our “courteous Lord.”[11]  And why should all this love for us be assured?  “For we [God’s children] are His joy and His delight, and He is our salve [healing] and our life.”[12]

     “But I have trusted in [Y]our faithful love,” Psalm 13 declares (v. 5, CEB).  Julian wishes us all to know the comfort, joy, “consolation,” “awe,” and empowerment of being able to make this confession.

     Meanwhile, God makes corresponding promises: I will be present for you, declares the Lord ...  And, “I have loved you with a love that lasts forever.  And so with unfailing love, I have drawn you to myself.”  (Jer. 29:14, 31:3, CEB).

     “The light keeps shining in the dark, and darkness has never put it out” (Jn. 1:5, CEV).  In the Advent and Christian seasons, to which we turn shortly, we welcome the "Incarnation": the intimate coming of the Love and Light of Jesus into the world.  See further discussion in our next post, coming in December.
* * *


We close with thoughts for meditation, prayer/poetry/proverbs:

                                 
Meditation upon a "Weight of . . . Glory":


                                   
     C. S. Lewis: “[T]o be loved by God … delighted in as an artist
delights in his work … it seems impossible, a weight … of glory….
[One] which our thoughts can hardly sustain.”[13]
   

And then, in a season that bounces back and forth--like the 
seasons of the soul that Julian understood so well:

Autumn meditation upon Jn. 3:8: 


    (In regard to the last two lines, Evelyn Underhill speaks of an 
experience in which, “Consciousness has suddenly changed its rhythm 
and a new aspect of the universe rushes in.  The [usual] teasing mists 
are swept away, and reveal, if only for an instant, the sharp outline of 
the Everlasting Hills [Deut. 33:12-15].”[14]   This is very similar to the 
secret of God’s great Love that Julian saw and promised us.  And the 
“spell” is similar to Pope Francis’s discussion of “awe” and 
“consolations”--spiritual gifts/graces we can seek.)
* * *

From my journal:

Today the breezes seem to blow right through me . . . as if 
I were part of it all--a cloud afloat and the same as . . . 
the magical spell in the air.

Today . . . but yesterday I held my own council--
scolding God for those things that happen . . . 
that reason cannot unlock.

Today, I can say, “It is over, Lord” . . . and a hardness 
has washed away--leaving me free and as light as the wind . . . 
as it plays on this sweet autumn day. 

     (Often, before we can see as Julian saw, we must allow ourselves 
a Let go . . . let God” experience [as discussed so wisely by AA and 
various "Twelve Step" groupsexpressed here by “It is over, Lord.”)


An opening to prayer/meditation:


     (With reflection upon Jn. 4:10, 15:4; NRSV.)

 

Meditations upon awakening:


Julian of Norwichs song of the soul (quoting from Julian's Chap. 56): [16]


(Note: “Dalliance” might be compared to prayer time, meditation,

Sabbath time, etc.) 


C. H. Spurgeon: "Even as [our Lord] Jehovah loves His

Only-begotten [Son], so does He love each one of His children."



A Julian proverb: [17]




* * *


Lavender Sky”  

  

I love the purple evening

before it surrenders to darkness.


I love the etching of each pine tree   

against the lavender sky.


I love the lamp lit windows,

the curls from the chimneys,

the hush that falls on the weary town,

the surrender to the night.


I love the purple evening

before it surrenders to darkness.

It whispers a lilting lullaby,                

promising: All shall be well . . .


    (With reflection upon Julian’s assurance: “For He loveth and 

enjoyeth us, and so willeth He that we love and enjoy Him and

mightily trust in Him; and all shall be well.”[18])


* * *

Julian promises that no matter what happens God's

Grace, Love, "Light and Solace" are intimately with

us if we but "cling" to God[19]:


* * *


(See additional blog posts after the “Notes” in “Older/Newer Posts.”  Also 
see additional posts that deal with similar themes regarding the world's 
darkness and pain.[20] )
……………….

Notes:

1. Pope Francis, “Peace is priceless,” 4/4/13 (by L’Osservatore Romano); http://m.vatican.va/content/francescomobile/en/cotidie/2013/documents/papa-francesco-cotidie_20130404_peace-priceless.html.
2. Julian of Norwich, Showings: Authoritative Text, Contexts, Criticism, ed. Denise N.
Baker (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2005), pp. 8-9 (Chap. 4-5, Long Text).  (Note:
Showings is another name for Revelations of Divine Love.)
3. Julian of Norwich: Showings, trans. Edmund Colledge, O.S.A. and James Walsh, S.J.
(New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 130 (Chap. 4, Short Text); Julian of Norwich,
Revelations of Divine Love, ed. Grace Warrack (London: Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1901,
1949), p. 14 (Chap. 6, Long Text).  (Where Julian used clothing imagery we use the
modern imagery of the comforter.)
4. Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, ed. Grace Warrack (London:
Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1901,1949), pp. 196, 189 (Chap. 81, 77, Long Text).
5. P. Franklin Chambers, Juliana of Norwich: An Introductory Appreciation and An
Interpretative Anthology (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1955), p. 148 (from Chap. 34
of Revelations of Divine Love, Long Text).
6. Combining translations in Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, p. 14 and
Julian of Norwich: Showings, p. 186 (both Chap. 6, Long Text).
7. Pope Francis, “Peace is priceless,” 4/4/13 (by L’Osservatore Romano).
8. Julian of Norwich: Showings, p. 324 (Chap. 74, Long Text).
9. Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, pp. 101, 161 (Chap. 48, 64,
Long Text).
10. Quoted in Walter Holden Capps and Wendy M. Wright, ed., Silent Fire: An
Invitation to Western Mysticism, p. 99 (from Revelations of Divine Love, trans.
Clifton Wolters, Chap. 5, Long Text).
11. Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, pp. 74, 193 (Chap. 36, 79,
Long Text).
12. Ibid., p. 193 (Chap. 79, Long Text).
13. C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses, ed. Walter Hooper
(New York: Macmillan Pub., 1949, revised 1975), p. 13. (Also see Mt. 17:1-13.)
14. Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism (New York: Meridian Books, 1955), p. 178.
15. Meditations, poetry/prayer/proverbs and journaling by Lorraine B. Eshleman.
16. Quoting Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, p. 135 (Chap. 56,
Long Text), shape added (see Note 15).
17. Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, pp. 198, 33 (Chap. 82, 14,
Long Text) and Eph. 3:21, KJV. (Capitalization and italics added.)
18. Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, p. 170 (Chap. 68, Long Text). 
19. Ibid., p. 202 (Chap. 86), capitals added 
20. For other posts about the world's darkness and pain
see: "God’s 'Tender Mercies' and the World’s (Our) Pain"; 
also see "The 'Divine Romance,' God's Suffering, and God's 'Pathos'
(or Wrath?)";