Tag Archives: mysticism

Righteous Rest

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Righteous Rest

Reflections – week 4

Welcome to the fourth week of reflections inspired by my current small groups. Together with some of my favorite women, I’m exploring these books: Father’s House, and The Whole Language. Gregory Boyle, author of The Whole Language, founded Homeboy Industries, the largest gang intervention and rehab program in the world. The Whole Language is his third book, and my favorite. Boyle frequently refers to “mysticism,” and if—like me—you’re not sure what that is, I invite you to just roll with it. Thank you for journeying with me.

Dead

I have a tenuous relationship with metaphors around the cross of Jesus—bridge, sacrifice, torn veil. I’m also unsure why we’re excited about a symbol of brutal, torturous death. We don’t wear miniature gold guillotines or electric chairs on delicate chains around our necks. But even if I can get past crucifixion pedantry, I still have questions. Did Jesus die as me or for me? Did He take punishment, or natural consequences, or did He simply enter into human suffering? Did He free all humanity, or only those who confess His name? Do I reap the reward of what He accomplished today, or only in the afterlife?

The authors of Father’s House believe that Jesus died as me, and while I don’t share their certainty, I love where they go from there: “The old you, the you that is still trying to measure up, died.”1 Now that is good news. Performing me is dead. Striving me is dead. Ashamed me is dead. The apostle Paul believed we were crucified with Christ, and exclaimed, “Could it be any clearer that our former identity is now and forever deprived of its power!”2 Having spent the last decade imprisoned by my own self, the possibility of leaving that behind is tremendously appealing.

The New Testament talks about the “old” and the “new” person. I like to think of them as a fake self and a real self. I was a facade. Now I am genuine. This moving into righteousness is not a move from bad to good, but a move from fragmented to whole, death to life. Behavior is always and only a side note. Good behavior centers me on shaky ground; bad behavior centers me on shaky ground. When I mess up, and when I have it all together, I need to be reminded that it’s not about behavior. “Righteous” is not a tally sheet, it’s a birth certificate.

Righteousness is Mysticism is Connectedness

Week #4 in Father’s House is all about righteousness, and the belief that “I am as righteous as Jesus Christ.”3 I want to short-circuit the voice in my heart and head that believes it’s all about behavior. I want to confuse, divert, or undermine my pesky inner parole officer. I have been imprisoned by my humanness, convinced I can only get out on good behavior, so each reminder in the Lesson Four video teaching is hope:

– Righteousness is not a verb, it’s a noun

– Righteousness is simply received, not achieved

– Righteousness is not dependent on my obedience

– Righteousness is about who I trust, not what I do

– Righteousness is received by faith, not by feeling

Righteousness ushers in a whole new way of seeing. Gregory Boyle writes, “The world will focus on outcomes or behavior or success. Mysticism glances just above what the world has in its sights. It puts judgment on check. It develops a warmth for everything that comes its way and rests in the center of it. When we are whole, that’s what we see in others.”4 Then we all warm up around the radiant heat of connectedness.

Boyle continues, “This culture of mystical tenderness holds every soul in high regard. …high performance is not the goal, but rather, a surrender to healing is. Then everyone finds this gentle road and practices, with each other, the pathway home.”5

Papa God is relentless in His passionate devotion to my wholeness and healing. When I soak in this—in the crazy truth that I am righteous—transformation is loosed, I live from a seat of rest, and I begin tapping into my heart’s desires instead of listening to my inner parole officer. I become confident in God’s presence to do the impossible with and through me, to invite everyone home.6

Righteous Conviction

In John 16:8, Jesus says the Spirit “will convict the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment” (NKJV). Day Two reading in Father’s House shocks me: “This [John 16:8] is the only time in the entire New Testament that there is mention of the Holy Spirit convicting of sin… and it is in response to those who do not believe in Him! As a believer, this says He wants to convict you of something completely different: your righteousness. Holy Spirit knows that reminding you of who you are, the righteousness of God in Christ, empowers you…”7

So the voice inside of me that points out how much I fall short is NOT the Holy Spirit, or any part of God? Why am I listening to it? Instead, I may hear a voice that convicts me of righteousness, a voice that notices all the beautiful things in me and says that is who I truly am. This voice looks for goodness and finds it. This voice spends its time bringing to light righteousness (not sin).

Embodied Healing

Another analogy I’m not fond of is the “robe of righteousness.” Robes are not attractive, they don’t keep my feet warm, and they are not all-day wear (except when it’s cold in the house and I wear my robe over my clothes). It’s quite possible royal robes were more common than bath robes in Jesus’ day, but having no experience with royal robes I’m not sure how to relate. Also, a robe can be taken on and off, and I’m not keen on transient righteousness. But, because I’m just a wee bit compelled to follow directions, I explored my thoughts about a robe of righteousness, as instructed in Father’s House. To my surprise, I found a thought that fits me.Skin is the largest organ of the human body. Clothing is intimate. It makes sense that God would draw near to me in a way that touches my skin. Touch keeps me present. It draws me out of my head and into my body, and God knows I need all the help I can get to stay present in my body.

Our bodies carry pain, and sometimes we divorce ourselves to get away from the pain. We do a thousand things to survive, many of which we don’t even realize we’re doing. It takes time to sort this out and let love into the picture. The folks Gregory Boyle connects with carry unimaginable amounts of pain and trauma. Extravagant tenderness creates space for that pain to be seen. “When you enter the program,” a homie said, “you need to bring your pain with you.”8 Connection and healing happen when we allow our wound to be seen, and then to be touched. Boyle suggests that “Healing takes a lifetime but surrender to this moment can carry you.”9 Love creates the space to surrender to this moment, to stay present to ourselves. “To be nurtured is to be reverent for what is happening to you.”10 Grace is reverence for pain.

Rest and Love

Striving to be “good” takes a boatload of energy. I remember when my oldest daughter began full-time schooling in first grade. She came home from school each day totally spent, and often spiraled into tantrums, tears, and yelling matches with me (I’m a superb yeller). She spent every ounce of her energy to behave well, learn well, and get along with others at school, and when she came home there was nothing left. I, too, have “melted down” over and over because I empty myself in my attempts to perform well, and to be “good.”

Papa God, Jesus, and Spirit are a whole new paradigm—a home where behavior is beside the point, a distraction from the real deal. Trying to become whole is a tiring pursuit. Knowing I’m already whole is energizing. Resting in righteousness creates a foundation for love. “The mystic’s quest is to be on the lookout for the hidden wholeness in everyone,”11 including me.

Endnotes:
1Father’s House, page 65
2Romans 6:6 TPT
3Father’s House, page 66
4The Whole Language, page 51
5The Whole Language, page 53
6Father’s House, Session Four video teaching and activation, pages 66-68
7Father’s House, page 71
8The Whole Language, page 54
9Father’s House, page 53
10Father’s House, page 50
11The Whole Language, page 55

Books I read in 2022

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Favorite new-to-me Author: Barbara Brown Taylor

  • Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith
  • An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith
  • Holy Envy: Finding God in the Faith of Others

As I review the list of books I read last year, I am reminded of God’s propensity to show up with impeccable timing. My introduction to Barbara Brown Taylor was one such instance. Last year my sister connected me with Writing for Your Life, and I considered attending one of their conferences featuring Barbara Brown Taylor as a speaker. I wasn’t familiar with her so I decided to order one of her books—see if I might like (or dislike) her writing. The book I ordered was Leaving Church, an appropriate title, given that our family had recently stepped down from six years in house church leadership.

When I start writing quotes on note cards, I know I’ve found a favorite new author. I felt seen and affirmed as I read Barbara’s story. Here are samples from my note cards:

“I had kept my soul so hitched to the plow that it stood between the traces even after the harness was off, oiled, and hung on the wall.”

“If you decide to live on the fire that God has kindled inside of you instead of rushing out to find some sticks to rub together, then it does not take long for all sorts of feelings to come out of hiding.”

“I decided to take a rest from trying to be Jesus … Today I will take a break from trying to save the world and enjoy my blessed swath of it instead. I will give thanks for what is instead of withholding my praise until all is as it should be. If I get good enough at this, I may even be able to include my sorry self in the bargain.”

So good.

After Leaving Church, I read An Altar in the World, which again coincided with a turning point in my life—or maybe created that turning point. The final chapter is about blessing, a topic I had never heard of, despite the word’s frequent appearance in Scripture and around the dinner table. Barbara wrote, “The most ordinary things are drenched in divine possibility.” I was captivated. I began writing blessings, beginning each with the phrase, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe.” I have found joy as I discover the divine in dirt and desire, bodies and brokenness, tears and trees. I have written nearly thirty blessings, and post one to my blog and social media every Monday. This has been an exciting journey for me into the world of poetry. Even more amazing, it has opened my eyes to the wonders of the natural world and of daily experiences, in a way I never thought possible.

Next I read Holy Envy: Finding God in the Faith of Others, a continuation of Barbara’s personal faith story, and an invitation to God’s presence in the people and practices of faiths other than Christianity. An excellent read.

Fiction and Stories

  • Run To Overcome: The Inspiring Story of an American Champion’s Long-Distance Quest to Achieve a Big Dream, by Meb Keflezighi with Dick Patrick
  • Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, by Bryan Stevenson
  • Nobody Don’t Love Nobody: Lessons on Love from the School With No Name, by Stacey Bess
  • Overcomer, by Chris Fabry, a novelization based on the motion picture by Alex Kendrick and Stephen Kendrick
  • Carry On, Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life, by Glennon Doyle Melton

Short notes on these:

Run to Overcome My favorite part was the first couple of chapters, detailing the author’s early life in Eritrea, and the determination of his parents to seek out a new life for their large family.

Just Mercy This story demonstrates what compassion and empathy, justice and mercy look like with skin on. I highly recommend it. (The movie is good too).

Nobody Don’t Love Nobody Another flesh-and-blood illustration of compassion, this is a moving story that forever changed the way I view helping others.

Overcomer Enjoyable read. Based on the movie, which I also enjoyed.

Carry On, Warrior One of the qualities I most admire in writing is the ability to put one’s inner world into words. Glennon Doyle Melton has a gift for this. Carry On, Warrior was a funny, refreshing and personally challenging read.

Spiritual and Self-Help Books

  • Barking to the Choir: The Power of Radical Kinship, by Gregory Boyle
  • Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion, by Gregory Boyle
  • Almost Everything: Notes on Hope, by Anne Lamott
  • Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith, by Anne Lamott
  • The Making of a Mystic: My Journey With Mushrooms, My Life as a Pastor, and Why It’s Okay for Everyone to Relax, by Kevin Sweeney
  • Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone, by Brené Brown
  • MOMumental: Adventures in the Messy Art of Raising a Family, by Jennifer Grant
  • The Hidden Half of the Gospel: How His Suffering Can Heal Yours, by Paul Coneff with Lindsey Gendke
  • No Cure for Being Human (and Other Truths I Need to Hear), by Kate Bowler
  • Free From Sin: The Audacious Claim of Gospel Freedom and What It Means for You, by Jonathan Leonardo
  • No Longer I: The Power of the Gospel Like You Have Never Heard It Before, by Jacob Hotchkiss
  • Grace Based Parenting: Set Your Family Free, by Tim Kimmel

I’ve ordered these books by how much I enjoyed them (starting with the most enjoyable). I won’t comment on every one.

Gregory Boyle and Anne Lamott were my favorite new authors in 2021. I continued reading them this year and was not disappointed.

The Making of a Mystic caught my eye because Gregory Boyle often quotes the great mystics, but I had no idea what a mystic is. When I watched this book interview with Kevin Sweeney, author of The Making of a Mystic, I was intrigued. I ordered the book and read with rapture. It is a fascinating personal story, and an invitation to a new way of seeing, well, everything.

Brené Brown is a longtime favorite author. I thoroughly enjoyed Braving the Wilderness. Here is one of my favorite passages, from the chapter titled, “Hold Hands. With Strangers.” (emphasis added)

While we may all be gathered behind the same bunkers of political or social belief and ideology, we’re still alone in them. And even worse, we’re constantly monitoring ourselves. The looming threat of blowback should we voice an opinion or idea that challenges our bunker mates keeps us anxious. When all that binds us is what we believe rather than who we are, changing our mind or challenging the collective ideology is risky.

When a group or community doesn’t tolerate dissent and disagreement, it forgoes any experience of inextricable connection. There is no true belonging, only an unspoken treaty to hate the same people. This fuels our spiritual crisis of disconnection.

MOMumental is a humble and humorous collection of stories about Jennifer Grant’s parenting adventures. It is encouraging, which every parenting book should be if at all possible. I fell in love with Jennifer’s children’s books—especially Maybe God Is Like That Too—which led me to try one of her books for women. This is one of those books I wish I’d read six or seven years ago, when I needed more moments of grace to survive preschool parenting.

The Hidden Half of the Gospel, Free From Sin, and No Longer I were theological reads, with which I developed a love-hate relationship. I found life-giving ideas that resonated with my personal journey. I also found a prescriptive way of speaking that triggered my shame-based, black-and-white patterns of thinking. I take full credit for this, as I would not say any of them endorse shame and legalism. It was simply a manner of speaking that was at times triggering for me.

In conclusion, I am not the same person I was a year ago, and that is due in part to many of these books. Reading good writing is a thrill, as are the “me too” moments, and the “I’d never thought of it that way before” moments. Reading opens me, and oh, how I want to be open. Here’s to another year of reading, another year of intimacy with beautiful, broken people.