Joy

"The universe if not a random assortment of atoms and fiery globes spinning and whirling in empty space to their destruction. Rather it is a symphony of rhythm and harmony that expresses the pleasure of its Creator. Divine joy was and is the primal reason for its existence. And, one might add, for ours also." - Sherwood Wirt

Reading about Francis' life is a lot like stepping onto a rollercoaster in an American theme park. His passionate and sometimes impulsive emotional life was full of lofty peaks as well as deep, dark valleys. Francis could be inspired to heights of inexpressible joy by the sight of a single butterfly, the scent of a flower, or overcome by a single note of gentle music from a lute. Of course, he could also experience great sorrow. But, he firmly believed that God, who created us with a vibrant set of emotions, wanted us to let those emotions be a part of how we experience life. One thing is sure: his life was not bland.

Gee, it sounds like my life - a rollercoaster, mixed moods (often at the same time), topsy-turvy days. I can stand in complete awe of a moment in my garden, especially on those days when all of the plants appear to have received enough water and sunlight in the right proportions. But, I can weep at the silliest sentimental moments in a daytime movie.

If Francis were to show up with his messy bundle of emotions at a church in modern America, I'm sure the ushers would attempt to show him the door. I experienced similar reactions a few years ago to the street people in Washington, DC, when one or two would wander into our Sunday services, stand in the back of the room, and someone would gently try to persuade them to leave, explaining that the services were "private." What a horrible commentary on the death of Christian filial spirit in our day.

Worse still… at least in my mind… were the several street people who would “compete” to be the only one (or two) people who waited outside until our services were over. It appeared that they all knew that we left at approximately the same time each week and, as we filed out of the building, in groups of two or three, were easy marks for a handout. We had one particular “regular” that was there every week asking for money. I was never able to tell him that I had seen him carrying several bags of groceries closer to his home. He was not completely homeless or helpless. It just seems that he took a little joy out of seeing us, greeting us, and asking us for cash. He was always friendly and always there.

Happiness vs Joy

In considering the concept of "Joy" today, I considered that there is a complete difference between what we consider "happiness" and what we consider "joy". Frederick Buechner said it best: "Happiness turns up more or less where you'd expect it to - a good marriage, a rewarding job, a pleasant vacation. Joy, on the other hand, is as notoriously unpredictable as the one who bequeaths it."

Francis turned his back on earthly pleasures and worldly wealth to pursue a life of simplicity, poverty, and self-denial. But, at the same time, he became a connoisseur of the arts - a man who enjoyed and worshipped every facet of his daily life. No - there's no real contradiction here. Francis made it completely clear that his experience of joy was a direct result of his walking away from the things in life that steal our joy. He knew the difference between a fleeting and superficial moment of happiness and a deep and abiding joy.

All of us go through moments of torment and suffering. There's no escape from our basic humanity. Yes, those TV self-help gurus tell us we can overcome almost anything by having the right mental attitude. A flood of advertising makes it sound as if happiness and perfect peace can come from purchasing the right shampoo, the right ingredients on our pizza, and the right car/dress/tie/cologne. But, those don't happen when we are confronted by our own humanity and the turmoils of day-to-day life on this planet. Francis, though, showed us that the event is not important; what's important is the way we handle or approach the event.

Indeed, Francis taught us a valuable lesson in his own dying. As he approached death, he grew weaker. But, instead of struggling against the reality, Francis offered God a passionate and humble prayer of submission to God's will. The next morning, when he awoke, he was burning with an active imagination with both words and melodies. He used those emotions, words, and melodies to compose what has come down to us as the Canticle of the Sun - a sublime work of devotion to God and deep respect for creation.

I guess what I've discovered in my own life (and confirmed today while contemplating Joy) - that we cannot experience profound joy as long as we "settle" for skin-deep entertainments or seek protection in illusory safety from tragedy. Instead, we need to look for a godly perspective that will allow us to distinguish between the fleeting and the eternal, the shallow and the deep.

Interestingly, it is often organized religion that creates the most confusion. What is the reason that some "religious" people think God is some sort of cosmic killjoy? Why should sanctity lead to solemnity? Why do so many hymns sound like funeral dirges? Many folks seem to be intent on making God in their own image - cautious and emotionally crippled - forgetting the clear fact that we are made in God's image!

They couldn't get that idea from God. God's emotions are clear: He is gentle, at one moment, with a repentant sinner, and, in the next, angry with a wayward world. God rejoiced as He created the universe. Jesus himself chose as his first miracle the creation of wine for a wedding feast! He openly wept at the death of his friend Lazarus and later cast the moneychangers from the temple. Emotions or passion are not alien to our experience of God and His Son. Each of these teach us that passion, and more importantly Joy, is essential. We were given feelings, emotions, passions through which we can experience more of life and everything in creation more fully.

"Jesus said not: thou shalt not be troubled, thou shalt not be tempted, though shalt not be distressed. But he said: thou shalt not be overcome." - Julian of Norwich

Joy, then, is essential to surviving and thriving in a world full of darkness and bad news. We should not deny reality and sadness. We should not try to convince ourselves that bad is good and that sadness is really joy. We should not run from reality. If we give in to depression, we can become cynical and skeptical, using some sort of perverse filter to block out God's healing love.

How, then, do I promote Joy in my life?

My concept of "original sin" is not built on the simple story of Adam and Eve. "Original sin" is not called original out of some aspect of creativity. It was just the first sin recorded. The key concept in the story is not the disobedience of Eve, but, more importantly, the idea that we, as humans, can attempt to outsmart God or hide ourselves from His presence/knowledge. I think that we still hang onto the belief that we can outsmart God by insisting that we can somehow control our lives and the outcome of our day-to-day existence with no acknowledgement of any higher power or supreme authority. That is a very strong barrier to our experience of Joy.

Trying to control my own life and "manufacture" some sort of happiness has lead to all sorts of frustration, sadness, and anger. It has affected not only my own life... but also the lives of my children, their mother, and my extended family.

Joy, though, comes from abandoning ourselves into the Hands of God. Ironically, this submission doesn't result in some defeatist, pessimistic life that is separated from the rhythms of life. Instead... it connects us to life in a far deeper and more passionate state.

How do I submit to God's control of my life?

Be present - Not worrying about tomorrow is difficult for us. The Jesuit writer Jean Pierre DeCoussaid described this kind of attention to the "here and now" as the "sacrament of the present moment". This doesn't mean I cannot make plans for tomorrow or have hopes for the future. It does mean, though, that too much preoccupation about the future - or even being too consumed with the past - keeps us from concentrating on the beauty of the moment and the promise of the present.

Be thankful - (1) Starting each day with a prayer of thankfulness and a dedication of the day to God's glory and (2) ending the day with a prayer of thankfulness for the blessings of the day - will allow me to ensure that God is thanked for anchoring both ends of my day. The events in between rising and going to bed will be left to God's control and "experienced" in the moment.

Be forgiving - Many of us walk around with a dark cloud (that we create ourselves) that consists of our regrets over personal failures or our unfaithfulness to ourselves or others. Another part of that same cloud consists of emotional baggage and bondage that we bring on ourselves when we fail to forgive ourselves or, sometimes more importantly, others. Failing to forgive ourselves and others is an illusory attempt to continue that silly notion of control over our lives, but it leads us to a state of victimization. Worse, we are victims of our own thoughts.

We spend so much of our lives in unworthy pursuits suffering the consequences of sadness, sorrow, and suffering. Instead of setting out on an impossible quest for "happiness", we need to seek real "joy" - leading to a more fulfilling, enriched, and emotionally rewarding way of life.

Simple Living

Today I have contemplated the concept of "simplicity" and how it affects my life. Simplicity or... more clearly... living with a virtue of simplicity is a time-tested tool that we humans can use to prune our lives - voluntarily submitting our lives to an ongoing pruning process that removes our irregularities, trims our unproductive growth, and prepares us for a future of fruitfulness and productivity. Simplicity is a spiritual practice that has been at the heart of the monastic way of life for many centuries.

If ever simplicity was needed, it's today. We live in a time and place where simplicity is desperately needed. We live in a time that is fast-paced, consumer-oriented, and information-overloaded. This is not entirely or even dramatically different from Francis' time 800 years ago.

Francis saw a world with huge socio-economic barriers between the rich and poor. The carnality of his age seemed to overwhelm everything, including the church, which itself had become one of the most powerful international banking institutions of the Middle Ages. But, as Francis reflected on the life and words of Jesus, he was confronted time and time again with Christ's simple lifestyle, His warnings about the dangers of money, and His commandments to His followers to sell all they owned. As I contemplate simplicity, I see the same teachings and wonder how to practice them in my life.

Simplicity is not a specialized discipline for monks or other unusual individuals seeking an advanced degree of enlightenment. Instead, simplicity can be a garden from which all other spiritual virtues grow. Simplicity is a prerequisite to our being both fully human and fully spiritual. Like the branches of an unpruned tree, our attachment to possessions, wealth, and plans for the future chokes our lives, enslaves our souls, and hinders both human community and union with God.

Seeking simplicity is not a new idea

As long as there have been cities, civilizations, and technology, sensitive souls have sounded an alarm about the corrosive consequences of chaos and complexity in our lives. In 1845, one of my heroes, Henry David Thoreau, a writer and naturalist, turned his back on the hustle and bustle of Concord, Mass, and went to live in a simple cabin in the woods near a place called Walden Pond. He remained there for two years, two months, and two days concentrating (some would say meditating) on "the essential facts of life".

More than 100 years later, E F Schumacher wrote Small Is Beautiful, an eloquently written manifesto about the threat of technology and economic growth run rampant. He helped inspire a growing concern for simpler ways of living. His philosophy has found expression in a variety of movements emphasizing conservation, ecology, sustainable lifestyles, natural foods, and a broad range of social and economic justice. But, for all that enlightenment, these movements have done little to help the millions of folks who are regularly run ragged by too much tension, too many choices, and too little peace in a world spinning wildly out of control. Clearly, something is out of balance.

Living a life engrossed in the cares and chaos of the current world is not only bad for us, personally, it is bad for the world itself. Take for instance the very idea of consumerism. While North Americans are a VERY small percentage of the world's population, we consume a disproportionately large amount of the world's limited resources. We live in a world where the few possess much... while many do not have the basic necessities to meet even their most basic needs.

Live simply so that others may simply live. - Gandhi

We don't have to live the life of a cloistered monk or the life of an itinerant mendicant to follow God's call to simplicity. Francis described a third, more mainstream model: practicing equality in a world of savage disparity. Paul, in his second letter to the Corinthians, encouraged those believers to consider the welfare of their neighbors "as a matter of equality your surplus at the present time should supply [others'] needs, so that their surplus may also supply your needs, that there may be equality." This equality-based model for living is both a matter of urgent practicality and a potent symbol of spritual intent. The effort to simplify and consume less is a real way to decrease our emphasis on self-gratification and increase our ability to share with others.

Manifest plainness, embrace simplicity, reduce selfishness, have few desires. - Lao-Tzu

We also don't have to plunge ourselves into abject poverty to meet the call to simplicity. There is a "middle road", an important step that we can take that will help us begin the process of living more simply. That step involves distinguishing between our wants and our needs. It is difficult for us (as Americans) who have been born and raised on a steady diet of capitalism, consumerism, and advertising. How do we sort through all the confusion? There is no simple formula. What we can do, though, is to strive toward distinguishing between food that is a need and the "desire" for a medium-rare T-bone steak; between clothing that we need and the "desire" for a designer suit with matching shoes; between housing that is a need and the "desire" for a split-level ranch with attached garage, walk-in closets, and three bathrooms.

Not all wants are bad or destructive. But a life consumed by fulfilling those wants is a recipe for frustration and unhappiness. If we seek simplicity, distinguish between wants and needs, we can prune our lives and cut away the things that hinder our growth. While daily life forces us to make hundreds of decisions, many of them seem unimportant. But if we consistently apply the ideal of simplicity to even the most mundane of those decisions and choices, we can begin living simply in the midst of a complex and often confusing culture.By pruning the tangled branches of our lives, we accomplish two things at once:

(1) cutting back the areas of our lives that have grown wildly out of control
and threaten to kill us or drive us crazy; and

(2) channelling our future growth toward a simpler approach to living.

Putting this all into Practice

My personal plan for achieving some simplicity:

(1) Return to a life of vegetarian eating - avoiding the hazards of an agribusiness-dominated food industry that depends on high-tech equipment and large doses of chemical fertilizers, herbicides, and pesticides.

(2) Promote vegetable protein in my own diet by consuming more beans, rice, and other protein rich foods that are simpler to prepare and less expensive to purchase.

(3) Use the age-old gift of fasting on at least one day (preferably two days) a week to help clarify the differences between food needs and food wants. Fasting also cleanses the body, enhances the power of the mind, sensitizes us to the needs of the spirit, breaks our addictions to unhealthy eating habits, and makes a significant symbolic statement about the desire to stand against the
excesses of our consumer culture.

(4) Pare down my years’ accumulation of clothing (sadly, in varying sizes) and give the excess to the poor.

(5) Change the clothing that remains to simplify my "style", concentrating less on the "in style", fashion, or in-your-face sexuality that is part/parcel of the mass consumerism of clothing markets. Afterall, the majority of the "in" clothing is uncomfortable, uncomplimentary, unhealthy, and almost instantly out-of-date.

Simplicity is a gift. It is a doorway that allows other gifts into our lives.

Why Francis?

I hope, here, to more fully discuss why I have chosen St Francis as a role model and how the life, writings, and legacy of this beloved thirteenth-century saint can offer us guidance on our paths to greater peace, spirituality, and joy - incorporating the Franciscan philosophy into our daily existence, taking more meaningful steps toward lives of greater simplicity and deeper spirituality - affecting the way we live every hour, every day.

Ours is a time of great spiritual hunger. People like me are thirsting for the sacred, the mysterious, the mystical. We are looking for more than a good job, a full closet, and a balanced (and full) checkbook.

Maybe it's no surprise that much of today's hunger for things spiritual is being met outside of traditional churches and formal religious institutions. In some ways, our present world is remarkably similar to a time over 800 years ago when Francis transformed his world and renewed an entire church by a simple but revolutionary act: practicing the Christian faith as it had never been practiced before...

in the appearance of his life, in the simplicity of his words, in the purity of his heart, in his love for God, in his fraternal charity, in his ardent obedience, in his peaceful submission... - Thomas of Celano

The church of Francis' time, the Middle Ages just prior to the Renaissance, was a big, wealthy, bureaucratically entrenched and politically influential institution whose leaders seemed more life self-centered, power-hungry civil authorities than selfless servants of God and humanity. Some of that has not changed... and appears more entrenched today. Francis, though, took the words of Jesus to heart, understood what they meant, and sought out ways to practice them in his daily life.

So... as I asked at the beginning of this meditation... Why Francis?

I will try to address that in several snipets, explaining some of the various facets of his life that attract me to his life and teachings:

He practiced what he preached - At a time like ours, the beginning of the third milennium, we find a world where wrapping oneself in the rhetoric of godliness is a sure way to win votes, to gain respect, or to sell records and/or books. Francis, on the otherhand, is a startling example of someone who lived his faith more than he talked about it. In his many private moments, his relationships, and his public ministry, he pointed a probing finger at himself - his own weaknesses and shortcomings - instead of busying himself with the failings of others. By an example of a simple and radically committed life, he revealed a sometimes mysterious Christ to a world that could not, or often would not, see him.

He was real - Far too often, books about saints and godly men and women read like religious fairy tales - devoid of all dramatic tension or suspense. But, because he came to God from a life of worldly successes and carefree disbelief, Francis is the very opposite of an otherworldly stained-glass saint. Saintly without being sanctimonious, Francis knew sin firsthand in his own personal life, not merely as an abstract theological dogma but as a personal reality and weakness.

He was radical - For many people today, being "Christian" is roughly equivalent in time and emotional commitment to being a member of a neighborhood bridge club, having a seat at the local Elks/Moose/Eagles lodge, or getting the family car serviced. Unfortunately, this type of Christianity is often viewed as just another civic affiliation - an acquired habit or social ritual. Francis saw another alternative: a spark of divine love that ignited a bonfire that burned away all indifference and sparked a radical, uncompromising faith. Francis desired - above all else and minute-by-minute - to follow God more closely.

He was loving - People who came into Francis' very presence could sense the love he felt for them and were drawn closer to his embracing warmth, his compassionate concern, and his willingness to spend himself in serving their needs. His manner held no judgmentalism, no remote transcendentalism, no icy intellectualism. In our world, where clashes over religion and deeply held values divide people around the globe, we could learn much from Francis, a model for respect and civility.

He was passionate - God, for Francis, was not a dry theological concept. The Christian life is not a collection of dusty religious rules and rituals. Instead, his faith was that of of man who passionately and desperately loved God. We could do well to embrace such passion.

He gives us hope - Francis' emphasis on innocence, hope, and the positive possibilities of faith in God gives me encouragement that underneath all the barnacles, callouses, scabs, scars, and cultural accretions that burden the current state of Christianity - and obscure it from view - there is a pure, powerful heartbeat of love that continues to draw us closer to God.

A BIT OF HISTORY

I come to this from a little bit of history and life in the latter half of the 20th Century, coming to early adulthood in the last days of the 1960s - a period of social turmoil, heightened spiritual searching, and terrific hope for the future. I was quite happy to be a part of that burgeoning movement that seemed to demand answers to hard questions and sought to reinvent society from bottom up. I remember making a personal mantra out of the code words of the day: "Make the world a better place!"

But - certain inconsistencies in the movement kept interrupting, startling, and troubling me. Protesters who argued for peace were not opposed to using force and even violence when it suited them or their objective. People searching for a mystical revelation experimented with mind-transforming (and harmful) drugs, dabbled in extremes, and became so clouded and myopic that they lost all passion for their spiritual pursuits, changing the world, or even making it through the day.

My own hunger for spiritual answers took a different form. In college, I became a member of Campus Crusade, becoming a fuming fundamentalist, a walking, talking "Jesus Freak" who could (and did) quote the Bible or dispense judgment at the drop of a hat. Presented with a problem, I had just the appropriate Bible verse. I was angry; I was arrogant. Unfortunately, I was also horrible to be around. All of this... in the name of Jesus.

I knew something was wrong, though, and wrestled with soul-searching questions. Hadn't I done exactly as I was supposed to do? Wasn't I the "good boy" I was expected to be? Where were the answers? In the end, I concluded that the Christianity I was living and the Christianity I saw around me were nothing like what I read about in the Gospels. The answers had to be elsewhere.

Convinced that organized religion was, in some way, part of the problem rather than part of the solution, I began to study other spiritual paths: Zen Buddhism, Druidism, Taoism. I even sought solice in the teachings of the Native American religions espoused by some of the more popular authors of the 60s and 70s. But none of these seemed to answer that deep-seated need to know and serve God.

In my search for answers, I re-found Francis and his teachings. I have known him and his teachings for a long while, but I am now committed to following him. Francis did it:

He lived a balanced and beautiful Christian life.

He was the genuine article: a human being who sought the same things I have been seeking - a way to live and serve God while still being "in the world".

He lived a life of poverty when all I was seeing were typical, upper middle-class American Christians trying to balance their love of God with their love of money.

He lived a life of mystical connection to God when all I saw was a cold and rationalistic form of Christianity that was all head and no heart.

He lived a life of gentleness when all I saw was an arrogant, aggressive, my-way-or-the-highway Christianity.

He lived a life of joy and radical commitment when all I saw was an antiseptic, pedantic, down-the-middle-of-the-road kind of Christianity that killed the spirit and squashed the joy.

I am here. I have found Francis and his path to Jesus to be the "best fit" for me.

Here and Now

Hi, all. I'm beginning this on-line journal to keep track of my thoughts, feelings, ideas, wonderings, and concerns as I progress along the path I have chosen for myself: a purely secular, celibate, and Franciscan spirituality.

This journey is not undertaken lightly. I have long considered my role in life as I have wandered through the morass and variety of spiritualities available to me: Celtic, Zen, Druidic, purely lay Catholic, etc. I have chosen to walk the path of Francis because it fits me more closely and completely than any other. Be aware, though, that my interests in Celtic, Druidic, and Zen philosophies and thought structures have directly affected and will continue to affect my many postings here. For that matter, my training as a historian and counselor directly affect the materials I select for reading/training and for "work".

What I intend to do here, then, is to keep track of my readings in my overall formation as a "follower" of Jesus.

For now, I commit this space to the workings of the Holy Spirit in my life.