Artists, Mystics, and Clowns
"Fyodor Dostoevsky passionately believed that he had embodied the soul of the Russian peasant in Marmaeladov, the discharged town clerk and disgraced town drunk of Crime and Punishment--a clown, a bufoon, and the father of Sonia, a prostitute.
In a tavern in St. Petersburg, besotted with booze, Marmeladov engages the rationalist Raskolnikov in conversation. though the object of the derision and mockery by the locals, Marmeladov insists he is not to be pitied:
But, He will have pity on me Who has pity on all men, Who has understood all men and all things. He is the One. He too is the judge. Ge will come on that day and He will ask, "Where is the daughter [Sonia] who had pity upon the filthy drunkard, her earthly father, undismayed by his beastliness?".........He will forgive my Sonia, He will forgive, I know it.
Then He will summon us. "You too come forth," He will say, "Come forth, ye drunkards, come fort, ye children of shame!" And the wise and those of understanding will say: "Oh Lord, why dost Thou receive these me?" And He will say: "This is why I receive them, oh ye wise, this is why I receive them, oh ye of understanding, that not one of them believed himself to be worthy of this." And He will hold out his hands to us and we shall fall down before Him.....and we shall weep....and we shall understand all things! and all will understand.....Lord, Thy kingdom come!"
Dostoevsky maintained that at the heart of Russian peasant life existed an unshaken trust in the unrestricted mercy of God and the all-forgiving love of Jesus Christ. The author's contemporary, Leo Tolstoy, published his classic novel War and Peace three years after Crime and Punishment. In a dialogue between the saintly Princess Mary and her brother Prince Andrew, she echoes Dostoevsky's ethos. Quoting a haunting French proverb, she says, "We should enter everyone's situation. Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner"---to understand all is to forgive all. In His sovereign wisdom, God alone understands the human heart.
And what of the human heart's capacity to understand God? Here we need the help of passionate visionaries such as Dostoevsky. Sacred Scripture is too important to be left exclusively to biblical scholars. Theology is too vital to be consigned solely to the province of theologians. To explore the depths of God who invites our trust, we need the artists and mystics.
The Christian artists who composed such hymns as, "How Great Thou Art," "There's a Wideness in God's Mercy," "I Stand in Awe of You," and "Taste and See the Goodness of the Lord" invite us to stretch our limited understanding of God. Through daring images and bold metaphors rooted in the Word, they guide us to a profound self-esteem within an enlarged vision of the magnitude of the Divine. In Karl Rahner's words, they help us in "coming to see ourselves as God sees us, the object of infinite love and unremitting solicitude." They whet our appetite for the infinite. They suggest that the kabod Yahweh must be defined as absolute love. They imply that our awe of God is limited by our impoverished imagination. They intimate that beyond all the words we use about God----transcendence, kabod divinity, even God---lies a mysterious Reality that we cannot name. Thus, the mystic and theologian Meister Eckhart exclaimed, "I pray that I may be quit of God, that I may find God."
Rahner, one of the most important theologians of the twentieth century, declared that we need these artists and mystics to disrupt our complacency. "Eternal God, let them say that Your Spirit has given in their hearts," he prayed, "rather than that which would make pleasant hearing to those who represent the forces of all that is average."
To artists and mystics we must add the category of clowns---those who let God out of the box or our predetermined propriety. Clowns are instruments of grace, imploring in the voice of God, "Lighten up, ragamuffins!". Their somersaults, back-flips, and unpredictable high jinks tinker with our straitlaced logic, which allege that ultimate significance can be found in the tangible, the visible, the perishable. Their spiritual direction to us follows the counsel of the Psalmist: "Look up at the Lord with gladness and smile" (Psalm, 40:16 NAB)
As we stare at their outlandish costumes, we recognize a lighthearted, whimsical stance toward life. As we respond to their offer of unaffected graciousness and sincere friendliness, our inflated sense of self-importance rushes out of us like air from a pinpricked balloon. They invite us to reclaim the child we once were, to suspend temporarily our mortal seriousness about the image we project to the world, the size of our waistline, the outcome of the Super Bowl.....
This unlikely trio of artists, mystics, and clowns serves the ministry of the Word by expanding our understanding of the kabod Yahweh through their original and startling insights; they deepen our trust by reminding us to submerge the enormous difficulty of suffering and evil in the borderless sea of infinite wisdom and absolute love; they force us to pose the question, "Is God different from what we perceive?" They lay bare an incandescent truth long concealed by ignorance, myopia, and inauthentic tradition: our perceptions of God, of our fellow ragamuffins, and of ourselves, are flat-out wrong......
Why does the melancholy spirit of Chekhov's plays---"You are living badly my friend", haunt the Christian conscience? Why is the local church often a dispirited assembly of brooding Hamlets and wiped-out Willie Lomans? ........
Send in the artists, mystics, and clowns. Their fertile imagination pours the new wine of the gospel into fresh wineskins (Luke 5:38). With fresh language, poetic vision, and striking symbols, they express God's inexpressible Word in artistic forms that are charged with the power of God, engaging our minds and stirring our hearts as they flare and flame......
Those who look beyond the literal see the world as a metaphor for God. When they direct us to the majesty of the mountains, the beauty of the mountains, the beauty of the prairies, the variety of wildflowers along the roadside, the smell of mint and hay on a summer morning, the rumble of a train through the valley, the sound of a waterfall, they birth the Word in our midst. They dare us to dream of our homeland, where eye has not seen, neither has ear heard, nor has the imagination conceived of the beauty that awaits us."
Excerpted from Chapter 5 of a book I'm presently enjoying reading (once again),
"Ruthless Trust"
by Brennan Manning
I only wish that time and space had allowed for me to type out the entire chapter. So thought provoking. So beautiful. I've especially enjoyed the re-reading of the thoughts I've shared today, particularly, as all the older children just finished reading two of Dostoevsky's wonderful works, together (which has made for many priceless moments of lively conversation ringing through the house, as their shared reading always does), Crime and Punishment, and The Brothers Karamozov.
I made it through yesterday--a bit sleep deficient though I was--without incident, had such a nice day, and rested deeply and well, last night, after that very early rising of Saturday morning (remember? ;o). We had quite a storm come rumbling through, from late afternoon, yesterday,on into the night, but a sunlit tranquil calm has been left in it's wake. The air, clear and pure, lilac-ly perfumed and smelling so fine. Does my heart good.
I'm going to finish up a few things that need being done this morning, in preparation for most of the day away from home, and then try and slip out for my quick walk of the road. The families that we meet with in a House Fellowship (we meet from home to home) will all be heading our direction, today, but we'll be gathering at a beautiful camp on a lake, about 5 minutes from our home. It's so lovely there (though, it seems it's absolutely delightful every which way and where I turn). They'll be time in the Word, singing, and praying together. Sweet fellowship. And, everyone brings lots of food to share. After the time of fellowship at the nearby camp, we've all been invited to the home of one of the local farmers for a visit (all of the families that meet in the House Fellowship, that is :o) So, everyone's looking forward to stepping out into the happenings of the day.
Rosie, just took four nice big rustic-looking quiche out of the oven, that we'll be taking, along with a huge salad of baby greens and veggies, a freshly stirred-up dressing, and some bread, baked yesterday.
I'm sitting here watching James, standing, holding Celeisa and Aimaija in his arms. Makes my heart sing to see all the hugging, kissing, and loving going on, between a big burly 20 year old brother and his little 5 and 3 year old "baby" sisters. An early morning gifting. One of many.
I've been doing a bit of a juice fast, so was able to sit aside and type out this hello, while the rest of the family sat at the table *feasting* on blueberry pancakes--with fresh maple syrup, and scrambled eggs. The house smells *delicious*.
Thanks *so* much for taking the time to share all of your *great* game ideas, yesterday (do feel free to keep them coming). I can't tell you how much everyone here's enjoyed hearing. There were many games that we weren't familiar with. What fun! Can't wait to try them. Thanks for all your friendly hellos. Thanks for making me smile.
I hope each one of you, and your precious families, have a wonderful day.
Lovingly, Jewels
And, Anna, Jenny, and each other dear one that is (so sweetly and patiently) waiting to hear from me, don't give up on me, all right? I'm daily thinking of you, and will be writing, Lord willing, soon, soon, soon.
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