Mary, Joseph, and Mysticism

Many years ago, during my days as a university chaplain, I led a weekly prayer and meditation group. We practiced centering prayer, Quaker silence, visualizations, and lectio divina. After one of the sessions, a visitor, active in the campus Intervarsity group, took me aside and asked, “Isn’t this mysticism, taking time to meditate?” To which I replied, “Is there something wrong with mysticism? After all, Psalm 46 tells us to be still and recognize God’s presence.” His response was a litany of concerns which boiled down to the question, “Doesn’t mysticism – times of quiet and meditation – somehow circumvent our relationship to Jesus in its attempt to reach God?” His assumption was that every Christian practice must invoke Jesus to be authentic. Anything that didn’t conform to their narrow understanding of biblical revelation was potentially dangerous: it might imply that we can reach God by our own efforts. While the student’s concerns were real, both then and now, I believe that our relationship to God is synergistic – a matter dynamic call and response in which the graceful and lively God encourages creativity and agency, and discourages uniformity and passivity. The call goes forth, but invites us to become creators in the dynamic interplay of grace and action.

There is no better example of this active mysticism than Mary and Joseph’s responses to God’s invitation to be partners in the incarnation. Imagine encountering an angel – in both flesh and spirit! Would you acquiesce to the angelic requests without any questions? Would you be passive or respond actively to the challenge?

We don’t know how Mary was chosen to bear this special child. Was she the first one that the angel asked? Had others been overwhelmed or resistant, knowing the personal and social cost of an unplanned pregnancy? Did Mary exemplify certain character traits worthy of divine interest? I don’t know the answer although I think all three options have some plausibility. God’s call to Mary and us is always personal and contextual, time bound but with everlasting consequences. Our response always bears our own individual signature and creativity.

Well, back to the announcement to Mary. When the angel came, she was inquisitive and surprised. In words later echoed by the Beatles, Mary responds, “Let it be.” In other words, I am open to following God’s vision, embracing it in my own flesh and blood. She is no passive clay manipulated by the unilateral potter. She joins agency and receptivity as she opens to God’s movements in the birth of her child. She is an active mystic – encountering divinity and then choosing to follow God’s vision in her life. She chooses incarnation, the holiness of birthing, for herself, Joseph, and the coming child. But, it is clear that “she chooses.”

Mary is perplexed, and so is Joseph. The exact details of this child’s birth are less important than the responses of the actors involved. As many biblical scholars assert, unusual births are common in the annals of great spiritual and military leaders. They are somehow set apart by the divine for a special mission and this begins at conception. This fact does not nullify the Christian affirmation of the virgin birth, but it invites us to ask whether or not the virgin birth is essential to the story. Is the incarnation about supernatural interventions or the natural holiness of flesh and blood and the world in which God’s quest for healing and salvation take place?

However this birth takes place, it stretches Joseph’s credulity. A good man, he is looking for a way to get out of the marriage without creating a scandal or putting Mary in jeopardy. He wants to do the right thing. His agency is paramount in this story. Even a surprising conception does not eliminate Joseph’s ability to say “yes” or “no.” The tipping point is a mystical experience. An angel comes to Joseph in a dream, calming the surprised father, and revealing the holiness of this birth. “God is with us” is the revelation and the meaning of this child’s birth. Awhile later, Joseph has another life-changing dream, alerting him to flee the country to save the child’s life. Perhaps, it was a communal dream – the same vision that the magi had, calling them to another pathway home.

There is no way to domesticate these stories from another time and place. Still, they have a message for us. First, we can experience God in life-transforming ways. God is not aloof, but present in cells, souls, and communities. A one-dimensional faith – defining everything according the tenets of the modern world view – robs life of beauty, wonder, and amazement. The incarnation raises all life to revelation; each moment – even tragic moments – as a potential theophany. Sleepers awake! God is with us!

Second, God comes to us through many ways – personal visitations (Fatima, Medjugorje), visionary experiences, dreams, intuitions, synchronous encounters). Third, divine encounters enhance rather than diminish freedom and creativity. Graceful visitations invite us to greater agency. God wants us to be companions in healing the earth, whether in the process of conception, child-bearing, and our ongoing care for the safety of our children and all children. Mary and Joseph’s agency is a model for our own mystical agency as embodiments of grace in our time and place.

Parenting the Divine: A Christmas Meditation

At the emerging community where I once served as pastor, current co-pastor Diane Brandt has created a banner that affirms the words of German mystic Meister Eckhardt, “We are all meant to be mothers of God, for God is always seeking to be born.” Listen once more: God is always seeking to be born! God is seeking to born in us right where we are. This could be the mantra of emerging and life-affirming Christianity as well as the Christmas season.

God is not far off. God is near, and moving within us every moment of the day. The stable and manger, and the star of wonder are not anomalies, but everyday realities. Jesus is born in Bethlehem and being born in us moment by moment. We don’t need the miracle of a supernatural virgin birth, an immaculate conception, or a planetary rescue operation, but we do need the miracle of embodying God’s love right where we are. Emerging faith, life-transforming spirituality, is about opening our senses to divinity whether in multisensory worship, protesting injustice, playing with a toddler, caressing our beloved, writing a poem, sharing a holiday meal, or enjoying a sunrise. God is sensational, with love that is always incarnational, taking flesh in Bethlehem and seeking to be born in our lives this very moment.

This doesn’t diminish the uniqueness of the birth of Jesus, but opens us to his birthing in our lives. God is always uniquely revealing Godself. In a special moment, God gave breath to a child, born of Mary and Joseph, but revealing from his conception and first cries the light of the world, whose star hovers over Bethlehem but also the Persian home of magi and continents unknown to the Jews in the first century. This star still hovers overhead in Palestine, Israel, Washington DC, and in every suburb and village, reminding us that the word is made flesh in Jesus the Christ and Healer, and in the Christ seeking to born in us. This is truly the meaning of divine omnipresence: God is present everywhere, in every birth, and in every moment of transformation. “When did we see you?” asked the faithful. And, God responds, “In everyone – most especially, the hungry, thirsty, unemployed, marginalized, and refugee.”

I believe in the Incarnation. I believe that something unique and life-transforming happened in the birth of Jesus. This was not contrary to the regular laws of causation, but rather reflects the deepest energy of creation, the very intensity of the birth of birth of the universe some fourteen billion years ago.

The world is always more wonderful than we can imagine – the whole earth is full of God’s glory, permeated with spirit, and not a one dimensional tightly wound environment that precludes adventure and surprise. As an early Christian leader proclaimed, the glory of God is a person fully alive. In the incarnation, God was fully alive in the call and response which enlivened Mary, Joseph, and their wee child. They responded to God’s unexpected movements in their lives – bringing forth wonders that pushed them beyond their comfort zones to become partners in God’s holy adventure. They became fully alive, contributing to the unique divine presence in Jesus, by their responses to their angelic visitors. There was no “purpose-driven predetermination” in Jesus’ birth but a lively quantum leap of divine-human partnership that gave birth to possibilities that shape our lives at Christmas and every day. (For more on a creative-affirmative alternative to Rick Warren, see Bruce Epperly, Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, Upper Room Books.)

This morning, as I write these words, I am awaiting the birth of two babies. My wife has gone off to a local hospital to support and coach a Bhutanese mother, the young wife of a man our church sponsored through Church World Service. In less than six months, we anticipate the birth of another child, our second grandchild. We wait with hope in both cases, and commit ourselves to Christ’s birth in unique ways in two families we cherish. We seek to embody care for the earth – the earth beloved by God – that will enable these and other children to live in a world where there is sufficient food, shelter, education, freedom, and environmental well-being for them to embody holiness in their time and place.

Eckhardt asks, “What does it matter if God is always being born, if it doesn’t happen to me?” So, let Christ emerge this year in your village, in your heart, and in your spirit. Let something born as you say “yes” to the birth call of this present moment, revealed in your partner, friend, child or grandchild and embodied in a refugee, undocumented worker, homeless one, or enemy. God is here, the word is made flesh, being born anew in you and all the world. By your openness let God be fully alive in you! Merry Christmas!

Incarnational or Missional?

During this season of Advent, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the idea of incarnation — specifically, these words from author and activist Parker Palmer:

“The Christmas story is … about God taking the risk of showing up in the flesh, and all that comes with it. I think that’s a risk that we’re all called to — the risk of incarnation, the risk of embodying our values and beliefs, the risk of manifesting our identity and integrity in the world, the risk of being fully human. And it’s a risk that we shy away from. So the Christmas story for me is a constant reminder that the calling is really to be born and born and re-born again and again and again in the shape of my own true self …”

Those words are from this recent interview Palmer did with Travis Reed of Alter Video Magazine:

The idea of incarnation is central to the missional shift in the Church and in Christianity. “The risk of incarnation,” as Palmer puts it, is one very beautiful (and biblical) way of describing the invitation we have been given — to join God in the renewal of all things, to participate in the dream of God, to be a part of what God is doing in the world.

It’s not something we have to do. It’s, as Tripp Fuller puts it, something we get to do, it’s a privilege, a golden opportunity, if you will.

The problem is: our churches do not always look like this. In his chapter on incarnation in Signs of Emergence, Kester Brewin describes the problem this way, “God came all the way to us — yet we now expect people to come so far toward us in church.”

In her book Down We Go, Kathy Escobar advocates for using the term “incarnational” instead of “missional” for the kind of church and faith/religious community that she describes. I think it’s a powerful word, but I’m still a fan of “missional.” (Emergent Village, for example, has often been described as “a generative friendship of missional Christians.”)

Tonight, Kathy and I will be participating in a one-hour Twitter chat (9-10pm ET) to discuss and debate (in 140 character bites) this question of “incarnational” vs. “missional,” and I hope others will join in the conversation and/or follow along online (#missionalchat).

I’m planning to record a Skype videochat with Kathy during that time, as well, which I’ll be posting for my next edition of Missional Conversations. If all goes well, I hope to do this again on a monthly basis. Third Monday of the month = missional Monday / #missionalchat? We’ll see how it goes …

What are your thoughts on incarnation? Is “incarnational” a better than word than “missional”? Why? Or why not?