Eating Bread in the Kingdom of God

Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the Kingdom of God

Luke 14:15b

At my church this sentence is said every week before communion is distributed. I’ve been studying Luke recently, though, and this last Sunday I recognized the context. The comment is made to Jesus by a dinner guest. Jesus responds with a story that explains just who it is that will eat in the Kingdom: the parable of the great banquet.

Hearing that one sentence at church brought all of this flooding back. The great man’s bountiful generosity – “bring in the poor, the blind, the lame, the crippled” – and the incredible openness of the offer: “master, there is still room”.

Any time that conflict arises in the church, it’s hard to observe carefully and avoid the conclusion that we are all broken. Theology, pride, conviction, and general sinfulness are so intermixed that it is hardly possible to separate them.

But we broken ones are exactly the people whom Christ invites to His table. And watching us file up to the front for the Lord’s body and blood on that Sunday reminded me that we are a part of Christ’s church not because He has been formed in us, but because we know He has not. So I limped up to the altar rail, one cripple among many, to eat bread in the kingdom of God.

Religious Affections, etc.

The Christian Audio free audiobook last month was Jonathan Edwards' The Religious Affections, and I've been listening through it slowly. The experience has sparked some thoughts (as good books always do):

Audiobooks are good for you

Listening to a long, careful and cohesive argument (as The Religious Affections is) or even a classic novel (with more complex sentence structure than modern fiction) sharpens your brain. It requires you to focus on what you are hearing in a way that stretches you, in a refreshing way. I often worry that modern movies and television are conditioning us to have ever shorter attention spans. This is a good way to fight back.

As a bonus, I wonder if it might also help in prayer. In The Divine Conspiracy, Dallas Willard notes that when our thoughts wander during prayer, they are only doing what they usually do. Consciously gathering your thoughts and focusing them while listening to something that requires concentration might train them in a way that helps you concentrate during prayer. So far this is just a conjecture, though. No results to report yet.

Read The Religious Affection

The Religious Affections is a penetrating analysis of religious experience by one of the brightest and best theologians ever born on this continent. It was written in the fallout of the second great awakening, and Edwards is trying to come to grips with what he experienced during that time: many extremely fervent religious experiences which withered and died, leaving no lasting devotion.

Its description of the relationship between emotion and the Christian life is very helpful and should be required reading, I think, for worship leaders. It is incredibly important for them in particular to think about what differentiates true religious affection from mere emotion, which can flare up quickly and die just as quickly, and which has no religious significance. Several practical suggestions could be gleaned from the book on how to focus a worship service with this in mind.

Also, it is helping me formulate a better understanding of the nature of religious experiences. Recently I encountered a few examples of strong experiences which I would have thought could come only from God, but which communicated messages I don't think God would communicate. Edwards' book gives me a better feeling for the nature of religious experience and how to discern true from false ones.

Modern Neuroscience isn't all that Revolutionary

This one caught my attention mostly because of my ongoing interest in the sciences and Christianity's place within them. It seems like every other week someone is publishing a paper which supposedly provides a causal explanation of some facet or other of religious belief: stick somebody in an FMRI machine, tell them to think about God, jot down the areas of the brain that light up the most, and presto! You've reduced religion to brain chemistry and explained it in completely naturalistic terms.

Ok, so that was uncharitable. But it is certainly true that neuroscience in general is accumulating proof of correlations between certain brain states and certain beliefs, thoughts, or personality characteristics, and reasoning from that data to the conclusion that the brain states in question provide a physical explanation of the mental events they're correlated with. I'm pretty convinced that this assumption is uncritically inherited from the current academic climate, not deduced from the data.

But what does all this have to do with The Religious Affections? Oh, yes. It turns out that the correlation between brain states and mental states, which modern neuroscience usually portrays as breaking news which finally disproves the existence of the soul, have been believed by Christians for hundreds of years.

Edwards spends a lot of time discussing mental phenomena, as his subject is religious experience. And in different places throughout the book he makes plain that he envisions a deep, 2-way connection between the soul and the body. He says that he is doubtful whether there is any thought however small which does not affect the body in some way. He argues that the devil cannot read our minds, but can introduce thoughts into us by placing impressions in our brains. He says that certain physical sicknesses can weaken our reason by weakening the control the soul has over the brain. And, while I'm on the subject, C.S. Lewis mentions in The Discarded Image that the medievals believed different areas of the brain were associated with different cognitive functions.

So the idea that belief in a soul is threatened by modern neuroscience is groundless. On the contrary, we've been predicting these sort of results for hundreds of years.

Update: I've run across another ancient Christian reference to physical brain changes affecting our mental state: Evagrios the solitary, a 4th-century monk:

... this illusion results from the passion of self-esteem and from the demon's touch on a certain area of the brain.
....
[the intellect] then mistakes for a divine manifestation the appearance produced in it by the demon, who cunningly manipulates the brain and converts the light surrounding the intellect into a form, as we have described. [emphases mine]

On Prayer, texts 73 & 74, Philokalia vol. I

Benedictine Spirituality

I fell in love with the Rule of St. Benedict a few weekends ago, on a church retreat at Prince of Peace Abbey[1]. In my simple but comfortable room was a copy of The Benedictine Handbook, which contained the Rule as well as several essays on Benedictine spirituality, some example liturgies for the daily office (abbreviated for lay use), and a brief history. St. Benedict had my attention after the first paragraph of the prologue:

My words are addressed to you especially, whoever you may be, whatever your circumstances, who turn from the pursuit of your own self-will and ask to enlist under Christ, who is Lord of all, by following him through taking to yourself that strong and blessed armor of obedience which he made his own on coming into our world.

That weekend I attended as many of the monk's daily services as I could[2] and read most of the rule in addition to several of the companion essays. The tender, fatherly spirit drew me. Most of my exposure to monasticism has been from the Eastern church. And, while there is much to commend in it, I had never run across anything so compassionate, or so immediately relevant.

Of course, I am still not a monk and I can no more sing through the psalms 8 times a day than I can recite the Jesus prayer 17,000 times. But I am called to renounce my own will no less because of that, and St. Benedict's spiritual advice is directly relevant. It struck me that there is no time specifically set aside for individual prayer in his Rule. It is expected to follow from the daily rhythm of manual labor, contemplative reading, and the services of the daily office. And that is something that I can learn from, because I too have a daily rhythm. His advice on prayer is likewise comforting:

We really must be quite clear that our prayer will be heard, not because of the eloquence and length of all we have to say, but because of the heartfelt repentance and openness of our hearts to the Lord whom we approach. Our prayers should, therefore, be free from all other preoccupation and it should normally be short, although we may well on occasions be inspired to stay longer in prayer through the gift of God's grace working within us.

St. Benedict is acutely aware that the monastic life is lived in community, and much of the Rule is devoted to structuring community in such a way that the members are drawn together toward holiness. Now, my home is not a Benedictine monastery. But there are more parallels than you might think. Like an abbot, I am in some sense responsible for the spiritual care of my children. And the spiritual discernment which St. Benedict requires of abbots is both frightening and challenging.

My idea of the character of monasticism changed that weekend. As I read, I scribbled on a nearby scrap of paper: "Monasticism is not solitude. Monasticism is obedience." Obedience (to Christ and one's superiors) is, I think, the heart of Benedictine spirituality. It is in setting aside our own wills and enrolling in a school for the Lord's service, such as Benedict meant to establish in his monastic community (and I in my home), that we learn to take upon ourselves the easy yoke and light burden of the Father.

---

[1] This was a Roman Catholic monastery, but luckily there are Anglican Benedictine orders.

[2] These were almost entirely sung, roughly a half-hour in length, and consisted primarily of chanting the psalms. I usually find that chant distracts me from focussing on the meaning of a text, but that didn't seem to be the case here. Maybe because I was participating instead of listening, or maybe because it was just done better. At any rate, the chant had a quality that stayed with me long after the service was over.

Thomas à Kempis

I just bought a new copy of Thomas à Kempis' devotional The Imitation of Christ. The copy I owned previously was inherited from the pastor of the Baptist church I grew up in. But it is probably at least 50 years old, and falling apart. I now wish I'd retired it while it was in a better state of repair and bought a new copy for daily use, but it certainly shows the signs of being well-loved and well-used.

The Imitation (written in the 15th century) has more broad ecumenical appeal than almost any work I'm aware of. I was introduced to it through a Baptist minister, whose edition was published by Moody press (which felt compelled to included a disclaimer that, although the author referred to priests, the advice was equally beneficial for pastors). And Pope John Paul I was reading the book when he died. It doesn't really get any broader than that.

My new copy is published by Vintage, and I think I liked the Moody edition better. The Vintage edition is excellently bound (in fact everything they publish is. The paper is just right, and the book falls open in your hand. It just feels right), and more academic than the Moody edition. A helpful preface and introduction are included, the paragraphs are numbered, and when Thomas quotes from the Bible or classical literature the reference is italicized and footnoted. For devotional use the footnotes aren't really necessary, and the frequent italicizing feels jarring.

But what I liked best about the Moody edition was the translation. This may, of course, be just because I'm a snob and happen to prefer thees and thous over modern English. Here's a couple of my favorite passages from each edition, so you can decide:

Vintage
What good does it do you to be able to give a learned discourse on the Trinity, while you are without humility and, thus, are displeasing to the Trinity? Esoteric words neither make us holy nor righteous; only a virtuous life makes us beloved of God. I would rather experience repentance in my soul than know how to define it. If you knew the entire Bible inside and out and all the maxims of the philosophers, what good would it do you if you were, at the same time, without God's love and grace?
....
Follow Me! I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Without the Way, there is no going; without the Truth, there is no knowing; without the Life, there is no living. I am the Way you are to follow; I am the Truth you are to believe; I am the Life you are to hope for.

Moody
What will it avail thee to dispute profoundly of the Trinity, if thou be lacking in humility, and art thereby displeasing to the Trinity? Surely high words do not make a man holy and just; but a virtuous life makes him dear to God. I had rather feel compunction than understand the definition thereof. If thou didst know the whole Bible by heart, and the sayings of all the philosophers, what would all that profit thee without the love of God, and without grace?
....
Follow thou Me: "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." Without the Way, there is no going; without the Truth there is no knowing; without the Life, there is no living. I am the Way, which thou oughtest to follow; the Truth, which thou oughtest to trust; the Life, which thou oughtest to hope for.

A Prayer for Faithfulness

O God, in You truth and love are perfectly united. So unite us in your Son that we may reflect on earth the perfect unity of the Godhead.

Give us the courage to proclaim the good news that Your salvation is freely offered to all men without distinction, and the strength to hold unswervingly to the faith handed down to us by the saints. Forgive us when in our zeal we pass by the wounded on the far side of the road. Forgive us when in our compassion we approve what you have forbidden. Restore us, O Lord, and breath new life into us for Your name’s sake.

You are the God of our fathers and our children. Give us the wisdom to discern Your will for our community. Go before us that the light of Your word may illuminate our path in this time of darkness. Remind us when we despair that Your word is eternally fixed in the heavens, and strengthen us in the way of faithfulness. Preserve us from the winds which threaten us, calm the storm that engulfs us, and establish us in safety that we may bear witness to Your holy name for generations to come.

For you are the Ancient of Days, and unto You every knee must bow, and every tongue confess.
Amen.