Vrede en spiritualiteit

Henri Nouwen skryf in sy dagstukkie van 12 Desember oor die verlange na vrede as volg:

Visioene inspireer

Is die groot visioene van uiteindelike vrede onder alle mense en die uiteindelike harmonie van die hele skepping blote fantastiese feëverhale?

Nee, hulle is nie. Hulle is in ooreenstemming met die diepste begeertes van die menslike hart en wys na dié waarheid wat buite alle leuens en bedrog om, geopenbaar gaan word.

Hierdie visioene voed ons siel en versterk ons hart. Hulle bied ons hoop wanneer ons naby aan wanhoop is; moed wanneer ons in die versoeking kom om die lewe prys te gee; en vertroue wanneer agterdog na die logiese houding lyk.

Sonder hierdie visioene verdof ons diepste ideale wat ons die energie en krag gee om die groot hindernisse op ons pad, die pynlike terugslae van die lewe te oorkom. Ja, sonder hulle verloor ons lewe sy sprankel, word dit vervelig en uiteindelik vernietigend.

Ons visioene stel ons in staat om die lewe voluit te leef.

Vrede is dus iets waarna ons strewe: dit is duidelik nie ‘n gegewe in ons wêreld nie. Veral tydens die kerstyd moet ons hieraan herinner word. Die kerskind is ‘n teken van vrede wat God aan die wêreld gee. Vrede is, soos die kerskind, iets wat weerloos is. Dit is die eerste slagoffer van ons sondigheid. Maar verby die sonde, is vrede eintlik ons diepste begeerte. Ons begeer vrede omdat ons diep in ons hart weet hoe vervullend dit is. Maar wat ons hart begeer en wat ons in ons lewens jaag, is dikwels twee baie verskillende dinge. Die kerstyd herinner ons daaraan dat ons na niks beters kan strewe as vrede nie. Dit moet die belangrikste inhoud van ons lewensvisioen wees: wat sien ons as ons toekoms? Vrede. Waarop stel ons ons in die eerste plek in? Vrede. Wat is vir ons die belangrikste ideaal waarna ons kan streef? Vrede. Doen ons dit, is ons in ooreenstemming met God se wil. Want God se groot geskenk in die kerstyd aan ‘n verskeurde wêreld is die kind van vrede. Hy is die vredevors, die prins van vrede.

Henri Nouwen skryf in sy dagstukkie van 4 Desember die volgende:

Die ewige lewe in ons voed

Die wonderlike wete dat Jesus gekom het om ons sterflike liggame met onsterflikheid te beklee, behoort ons aan te spoor om ’n innerlike begeerte te ontwikkel om gebore te word in ’n nuwe, ewige lewe saam met Hom. Dit behoort ons ook aan te moedig om maniere te soek om ons daarop voor te berei.

Daarom is dit belangrik dat ons gedurig die lewe van die Gees van Jesus – dit is die ewige lewe – wat reeds in ons is, moed voed en vertroetel. Die doop bevestig hierdie lewe, die nagmaal versterk dit, en geestelike oefeninge soos gebed, nadenke en Christelike meditasie, en om op ‘n geestelike manier te lees en te leer, kan dit verder verdiep en verstewig.

Omgang met die Woord van God en ons versterk-word deur die sakramente maak ons geleidelik gereed om ons sterflike liggame agter te laat om die kleed van onsterflikheid te ontvang.

Daarom is die dood nie die vyand wat ’n einde aan alles maak nie, maar ’n vriend wat ons by die hand neem om ons in die koninkryk van ewige liefde in te lei.

Hier is 'n lys van praktiese dinge waaraan 'n mens vashou: gedurig hou jy jou doop in gedagte. Jy gebruik die nagmaal in verbintenis met Jesus se lewe. Jy bid. Jy lees oor die dinge van God, maar jy doen dit op so 'n manier dat jy gedurig vra na hoe dit jou geloof sal versterk.

Al hierdie dinge word gekwalifiseer deur 'n intense drang, naamlik om by God te wees. Op allerhande praktiese maniere is ons dag na dag op soek na wat ons dieper sal wortel in ons verhouding met God. En niks, nie eers die dood nie, sal ons van die liefdesverhouding kan beroof nie. Daarom is ons dood 'n oorgang. Eintlik is dit die laaste hekkie wat ons moet oor om vir altyd in God se vredevolle liefde te kan rus. Hoe sal ons dan die dood vrees? Saam met Nouwen sien 'n mens die dood selfs as vriend, want dit maak, soos 'n egte vriend, vir my die pad oop om by God te kan wees.

Jesus, Aids and the spiritual life

This painting by WesleyMaxwell Lawton (Christ with Aids) reminds me of Luke 17:11-19 and challenges me to rethink my understanding of who Jesus was.

It also speaks to me in a haunting and persistent manner about what God wants from the church.

How do we truly glorify God? I need to reflect on his painting, on Christ, on suffering, on those who are left without hope in the light of Luke 17:18.

Rick Warren, the purpose of life and spirituality as being close to God.

Someone sent met the following touching interview (see below). I love the way in which a Christian leader understands how suffering and darkness in our lives cannot be regarded in an almost contemptuous manner as stumbling blocks that our faith can overcome if it is only strong enough. Too often we hear the remark: “You are not healed because your faith is too small!”.

There is no "superman" faith in this interview. There is rather a mature, even inspired understanding that even though we live out of the power of the resurrection, the cross remains a vital part of our faith. The interview with Rick Warren reminds us that on our journey to eternity, suffering and evil are our constant companions. In fact, we often are faced with the the incomprehensible situation that death seems to be stronger than faith, that our prayers for healing of loved ones are not always answered with the answers that we expect.

I am once again touched by the illustration in this interview that life is more precious than material well-being and possessions. Especially when we discover like Warren that even the good things can be inherently threatening – how do we handle wealth and the notoriety that it brings us? Whilst most people would think wealth would solve all their problems, those who know God, realize that it is by far not the case. The Gospel of Luke is loaded with descriptions of what a burden material wealth can be. Possessions can rob us from the presence of God.

But I enjoy most Warren's remarks about the need to remain close to God. To love God is to experience the deep joy that we have been given a new identity ("I shall make you new!"). We are no longer prisoners of the past or of negative powers. But God also wishes to lift the burden of the good things in our life from our shoulders. God is interested in who we are. "Let me take this away, so that we can be together in complete fellowship with nothing to interfere." In Spirituality the image of the triune God is used to explain this: as God the Father, the Son and the Spirit commune, so we also need to be with God by way of a simple, regenerating relationship.

It is a golden thread in the Bible: we are formed in the image of God - we look like God! We need to become more and more like God as we travel our journey in salvation and suffering. It is in our very nature, especially in our modern society that stresses performance and status, to move away from living this truth. It is then that we chase "spiritual" works to show the greatness of our faith (cf. the other blogs here about John of the Cross).

I read the two passages in the Bible quoted by Warren in his interview and was struck by their beauty – even more so in the poetic translation of the Bible in Afrikaans. Psalm 72 celebrates the crowning of a king who reaches out to others in compassion and care. The king is God's image among his people in doing so. That is why the king is also described as God's son in the Psalms. In this Psalm key words are justice, peace, protection of the exploited, compassion, salvation, removal of violence (verse 14!). No other extraordinary interventions or miracles (verse 18). It is recreating God's true, ideal humanity. People must be empowered to live their calling. They must become children of God.

The just, caring, loving king represents God among the people, like we, as modern day children of God need to represent God among the peoples, the lonely, anxious, materialistic, alienated, unsaved, violent peoples of our time. We, too, have a royal duty. If we do not live this faith, if we do not reflect God’s face in this world – who will do it?

And 2 Corinthians 9 is an intriguing Pauline passage. It speaks about our lifestyle, about true gratitude, about giving generously, not grudgingly (verse 5), abundantly (verse 6) and it calls for sharing with joy (verse 7). Amidst all these activities God is in the centre of Paul’s thinking, as verse 8 shows. Our lifestyle is a reflection of who God is. God gives abundantly (in Afrikaans – God “scatters” grace). We need to become like God and then we shall be like God and do what God is doing. What is important, therefore, is that in our service to others, we are overflowing with many expressions of thanksgiving to God (verse 12). What matters, ultimately, is this life close to God. The more we do, the closer we need to remain with God. And being with God means thanking God, living in gratitude because of the new identity we receive in our relationship with God. In classical theology this was expressed with the phrase “coram Deo” – to be before God, in the presence of God, as the essence of faith.

To remain close to God determines the nature of our spiritual journey. Once again it can so easily become "my" journey. It is rather the journey of God with me. This is what Warren points to when he refers to his wife Kate who is drawn nearer to God and others in her traumatic illness. To be with the generous, loving, caring God whilst we travel along the edges of the abyss! That is what matters.

Today, without them knowing and hearing it and in a continent thousands of kilometres away, I pray for Warren and his wife Kate – that she may be healed, that they will experience the generosity of God more intensely than ever before and that day after day they may experience the overpowering presence of God. That I could share their witness about God's closeness in their journey and that I may pray thus is in itself a reason to celebrate my faith and find joy in the God who called me to believe. I can hold on to the image of a loving Father who overwhelms me with true peace. That is what life is all about. Everything else would be a mere bonus.


Subject: Interview with Rick Warren

This is an absolutely incredible interview with Rick Warren, author of "The Purpose Driven Life" and pastor of Saddleback Church in California. Interviewed by Paul Bradshaw, Rick said:

People ask me, What is the purpose of life? My response is: In a nutshell, life is preparation for eternity. We are made to last forever, and God wants us to be with Him in Heaven. One day my heart is going to stop, and that will be the end of my body-- but not the end of me. I may live 60 to 100 years on earth, but I am going to spend trillions of years in eternity. This is the warm-up act - the dress rehearsal. God wants us to practice on earth what we will do forever in eternity. We were made by God and for God, and until you figure that out, life isn't going to make sense.

Life is a series of problems: Either you are in one now, you're just coming out of one, or you're getting ready to go into another one. The reason for this is that God is more interested in your character than your comfort. God is more interested in making your life holy than He is in making your life happy. We can be reasonably happy here on earth, but that's not the goal of life. The goal is to grow in character, in Christ-likeness.

This past year has been the greatest year of my life but also the toughest... with my wife, Kay, getting cancer. I used to think that life was hills and valleys - you go through a dark time, then you go to the mountaintop, back and forth. I don't believe that anymore. Rather than life being hills and valleys, I believe that it's kind of like two rails on a railroad track, and at all times you have something good and something bad in your life.

No matter how good things are in your life, there is always something bad that needs to be worked on.

And no matter how bad things are in your life, there is always something good you can thank God for. You can focus on your purposes, or you can focus on your problems. If you focus on your problems, you're going into self-centeredness, which is, "my problem, my issues, my pain." But one of the easiest ways to get rid of pain is to get your focus off yourself and onto God and others.

We discovered quickly that in spite of the prayers of hundreds of thousands of people, God was not going to heal Kay or make it easy for her. It has been very difficult for her, and yet God has strengthened her character, given her a ministry of helping other people, given her a testimony, Drawn her closer to Him and to people.

You have to learn to deal with both the good and the bad of life. Actually, sometimes learning to deal with the good is harder. For instance, this past year, all of a sudden, when the book sold 15 million copies it made me instantly very wealthy. It also brought a lot of notoriety that I had never had to deal with before. I don't think God gives you money or notoriety for your own ego or for you to live a life of ease.

So I began to ask God what He wanted me to do with this money, notoriety and influence. He gave me two different passages that helped me decide what to do... II Corinthians 9 and Psalm 72.

First, in spite of all the money coming in, we would not change our lifestyle one bit. We made no major purchases.

Second, about midway through last year, I stopped taking a salary from the church.

Third, we set up foundations to fund an initiative we call 'The Peace Plan' to plant churches, equip leaders, assist the poor, care for the sick, and educate the next generation.

Fourth, I added up all that the church had paid me in the 24 years since I started the church, and I gave it all back. It was liberating to be able to serve God for free. We need to ask ourselves: Am I going to live for possessions? Popularity? Am I going to be driven by pressures? Guilt? Bitterness? Materialism? Or am I going to be driven by God's purposes (for my life)? When I get up in the morning, I sit on the side of my bed and say, "God, if I don't get anything else done today, I want to know You more and love You better." God didn't put me on earth just to fulfill a to-do list. He's more interested in what I am than in what I do. That's why we're called human beings, not human doings.

Happy moments, PRAISE GOD. Difficult moments, SEEK GOD. Quiet moments, WORSHIP GOD. Painful moments, TRUST GOD. Every moment, THANK GOD

Hardness of heart - the lack of spirituality among the religious. Die harde hart - die gebrek aan spiritualiteit onder godsdienstige mense

“It is a sad thing that so many of us do use to preach our hearers asleep; but it is sadder still if we have studied and preached ourselves asleep, and have talked so long against hardness of heart, till our own grow hardened, under the noise of our own reproofs. Though the head only have eyes, and ears, and smell, and taste, the heart should have life, and feeling, and motion, as well as the head.”

Richard Baxter, quoted in The Minister’s Prayer Book 290.

Dit val my op – hierdie hardheid wat in ons as geestelikes ontwikkel as ons eers ‘n tyd lank met ons vakgebied besig is. Die hardheid van mond – ons lasterlike praat oor God, ons skerp taal teen ander. “The noise of our own reproof:” Die geraas van ons groot verwyte en teregwysings, word dit dan. Ons woorde verloor lewe, gevoel, beweging. Dit is treurig, diep treurig dat die wreedste mense dikwels die mees godsdienstige mense is. Jesus is wreed gekruisig deur sy godsdienstige tydgenote.

It strikes me – the hardness that we develop once we have been studying our field for some time. The hardness of our language – the blasphemous talk about God, the sting in our language about others. “The noise of our own reproof:” The noise of our big accusations and judgments. Our words and thoughts lose life, feeling, motion. It is sad, deeply sad that the most cruel people are those who are the most religious. Jesus was cruelly crucified by his own religious peers.

Reflections on Velasquez' Christ on the cross.

The painting of Christ on the Cross by the famous baroque Spanish painter Velasquez is one of the first prints that I hung on the wall of my writing room. Velasquez living in the remarkable sixteenth century – in the period after the Renaissance and in the early Enlightenment (1599-1660), was the painter at the royal court in Spain and had a remarkable influence on such famous artists like Goya, Dali and Picasso. He did not paint many religious paintings – yet this one is one of the most famous of his works (kept in the El Prado museum in Madrid).

It is a mystical painting with sublime light falling on the body of Christ. Christ is painted in an almost upright position. He is presented as someone with a well formed, defined body. In this position and with this physique as someone who represents humanity in its fullness, it is as if the painting further reflects transcendence in portraying someone who ultimately is stronger than death, than the fate that seems to have overfallen him. There is no excruciating suffering here – tons of blood, tortured body, lashes, gashing wounds even though all the symbols associated with the story of the crucifiction are found in the painting – the crown of thorns, the wound in Christ’s side, the nails and the inscription. And, certainly, there is blood flowing from Christ’s wounds on the cross. Its serenity, its sublime character does not underplay the suffering and darkness of death. And yet, the focus is not on the suffering, but on Christ’s response to suffering. Looking at this picture, one does not feel sorry for Christ. He is not a victim of cruelty. Other, deeper and more emotions are evoked by what is being portrayed here.

It is a painting that, typically of its time, wanted to be precise and historically correct. Velazques carefully painted the cross so that it fitted the historical picture that scholars of his time reconstructed from the Gospels. The shadows that fall on the cross correspond to the time of the day that Christ was crucified. The wood of the cross is pine with its fine detail (the knots) and was at that time believed to have been the material used for the cross. With this precision the viewers are invited to stand before stark reality. This is what happens and what takes place when good and evil confront each other. You who view this work are involved in real life here.

Why am I so attracted to this painting? It represents a special perspective on the darkest night in the life of Christ. It captures a moment of complete stillness and loneliness, being the moment that he hung on the cross after the end of his life. He has reached the end of the journey. The road has ended. All creation has come to a standstill in this moment. It reveals the outcome of Christ’s life. It shows us what death does to him.

The body of Christ fills the canvass completely, but in such a manner that he at the same time also seems to be part of infinite space. Even though he is stetched out on the cross, the cross disappears completely behind his body. Only his hands and his feet are anchored to its beams. For the rest he seems to be standing before it in vast, open space (think Dali: where the cross hangs parallel with the heaven). The space behind him is completely empty – not a single object is depicted in it. The background is pitch black, bringing out in a dramatic manner the lightness that spills over the body of Christ. There are also no other characters in the painting (think: Rembrandt, the descent from the cross with the many disciples, so busy, so desperate, so grieving, removing the body of Christ). There are no thieves crucified with him, disciples or angels – often painted in those times on paintings of the crucifiction. All in all, Christ, this body, wrapped in gentle, enduring light and lightness, and not the cross, dominate.

The eye of the viewer falls, involuntarily, on the head of Christ as that which strikes us most about this body. The head of Christ is surrounded with soft, full light. The circle of light, the halo, above the head stresses the obscure face. It cathces the eye exactly because it is different to the light that covers the rest of his body. But there is an unusal facet to his head. It is slightly bent forward, hanging on his shoulder, almost as if in silent prayer. But it is his dishevelled hair that catches the eye of the viewer most. His hair hangs over and partially hides his face. One (barely) sees one eye and the nose of Christ – all other facial features are hidden in darkness. In this still moment, the moments of the death of Christ, his face is hidden – he is alone, on his own. A curtain is drawn, so to speak, before the unfathomable mystery that is being expressed here. He faces no one – does not look desperately and prayerfully up at the Father, nor searchingly at those around the cross, nor sorrowfully at the world. We cannot see death on his face. We see hiddenness, mystery, a drawn veil, the mysterium tremendum et fascinosum.

But in this solitude, in his complete loneliness in death, Christ is bathed in strong, beautiful, warm light. The moment of death is a moment of stillness, of unspeakable lightness. This man is dying a prayer, almost overstressed by his hands that are stretched out on this cross as if in a gesture of blessing the viewer. Peace be unto you. Let the mystery of light that surrounds me, even in death, fill and strenghten you.

Which leaves one with the question: early believers studied this painting in deep meditation. They saw a Christ, dying on the cross – a horrible death. But they also saw beauty, light. The darkness overwhelms – the body hangs serenely, bathed in luminous colours, in delicate light. Is the darkness the conquerer? Is the light the stronger one? It is a constant duel between darkness and beauty. Even as we expire, as our head sinks on our shoulder, as pain overwhelms us, we can be bearers of light.

That pain and that beauty are the constant reality of our lives, they are our companions as we continue the journey of our life.

Finally, the picture of Christ points to his uniqueness. He alone, only He can suffer with such serenity. Only he can be crowned with a halo, can reveal his divinity on a cross. His beauty in death, is an indication of a true, strong rejection of and protest against violence, against inhumanity that characterize those who life outside God. It is the perfect combination: this man of light, this strongly painted body, who also has blood oozing from the wounds. This man who died, whose head rests softly on his shoulder, this man is truly different. You see the hair of a man, dishevelled, unruly almost, the result of his via dolorosa. But it is also the mystic face of the divine person who enters light after this way of sorrow. Hidden from the sight of humanity, kept in the dark, is the immense power of the one who walks a different path than the road of violence. There is more light, there is true power in powerlessness, in saying no to hardness, to hatred, to the tough, clenched fist – in blessing the world prayerfully as it shakes its fist at him. He invites you to love his way, to love his peace, to follow him, to cry out against darkness and evil. His quiet serenity is a call to a deep, lasting emotional bond that brings the true light in darkness. It fills your inner being, floods it with feelings of adoration and beckons you to walk the same way. And, as you walk in the darkness, the light of this figure and the love that he emits, makes you strong in your weakness. The meek shall conquer the world.

Pondering this painting, you are taken up in the loneliness of Christ, his solitude. You enter into the silence before, and, even, of the man on the cross, you experience him in his loneliness and you become quiet before the magnitude of this confrontation between light in death and darkness of death. Words become unimportant. Thoughts grind to a standstill. Your heart cries out – let me love in this same way. Let me be light as I see light here. Let me live and find shelter in this divine space for ever.

(Cf. also http://www.crosscrucifix.com/solitaryF.htm).

Spirituality and asking for forgiveness / spiritualiteit en vra om vergifnis

Iewers skryf Thomas Merton oor die groot antwoorde wat mense altyd by geestelike leiers wil soek. Sy raad aan sulke leiers is - moenie dit gee nie.

Ek kou hieraan, veral omdat ek al heel week loop en dink oor iemand wat weer in die openbaar verskoning gevra het omdat hy as 'n bekende leier jare terug iemand anders in die naam van God 'n diepe onreg aangedoen het. Hy vertel hoedat hy al lankal die persoon wou gaan "spreek" het om te verduidelik waarom hy dit gedoen het. Sy openbare skrywe bevat dan 'n lang, uitgebreide verklaring oor hoe hy teologies tot ander insigte gekom het.

Selfs wanneer ons om verskoning vra, kan ons, onbedoeld en goedbedoeld, besig wees met 'n poging tot selfregverdiging. Ek was teologies oningelig, nou is ek teologies ingelig. En tussen hierdie skuif van my van die donker na die lig, is daar ure, dae, maande, jare se ongekende seer wat ek ander mense aangedoen het. Hulle seer is weer eens nie in fokus nie, maar ek en my skuiwe wat ek gemaak het. (Hou ons tog maar net ander mense se seerkry in gedagte wanneer ons 'n oordeel oor hulle vel, dan sou ons baie minder ons monde so graag oopmaak).

Sulke tye wanneer ons besef ons was verkeerd, moet ons smeek om vergifnis - in die letterlike sin van die woord. Want die seer wat korsdik oor die lewe van mense sit, vra nie om verduidelikings nie. Dit vra niks nie, liewer net stilte en skaamte. Dit is wat Job van sy vriende gevra het. Dit groot verduidelikings wat ons vra en bied, moet tot swye gebring word. Veel, veel eerder moet ons na 'n eenvoudige, nederige versoek om vergifnis in stilte verder wag op die werk van die Gees wat alleen heling kan bring - meer as wat ons beste woorde ooit kan regkry. Onvoorwaardelik, sonder verduideliking moet ons ons skaamte en ons smeking dat ons verlede ons nie toegereken sal word nie, oordra: en dan moet ons die Gees toelaat om genesing te bring - indien ooit. Juis in die "indien ooit", opreg uitgespreek (sal God my ooit hiervoor kan vergewe?), klink dan die swart ervaring van ons skuld deur. Dit is die hand wat ons op die bors slaan, tollenaarsgewyse, as teken van ons diepe, egte berou. Niks, nie ons beste verklaring, kan ooit rede bied vir of regmaak aan wat ons gedoen het nie. Net die goddelike, onbegryplike genade kan, indien ooit, heling bring...



Somewhere Thomas Merton writes about those who consult leaders about questions and ask for clear and extensive answers. His advice to the leaders is not to give it.

I cannot stop thinking about this. I have been reflecting throughout this week on a public statement by a well-known church leader regarding deep injury inflicted on someone else some years ago (in the name of God). His public statement comprises of a long explanation of his conversion from his earlier superficial theological beliefs about the matter on which he judged so easily. Even when we are begging for fogiveness, unlike the pharisee, we can be engaged in self-justification - like the pharisee. I was theologically naive, now I am theologically better informed. And behind this shift in my theological developments, lies hours, days, months and years of irreparable injury inflicted on other human beings. Their pain is not in focus, but rather my shift in thinking.

Better beg for fogiveness in the literal sense of the word and say no more.

The big answers and explanations that we give, must become silent as we wait, humbly, on the Spirit of the Lord to use our simple request for forgiveness, unconditionally given, without explanation, to bring some healing - if at all (Lord, can you ever forgive me?). Precisely in this "if at all" we express the dark, deep experience of our guilt. It reflects the hand beating one's own breast, like that of the tax collector, as a sign of our deep regret. So deep that nothing can compensate for it - not even our best explanation. Only grace, God's divine grace, can ever, if at all, bring healing.

Jan van die Kruis 6: die bedreiging van 'n vurige geloof. Oor spiritualiteit en geesdrywery

Hoofstuk 2: Oor ‘n paar onvolmaakthede van die beginners wat betref hoogmoed.

2.1. Hierdie beginners is baie vurig en ywerig in geestelike sake en vroom dade. Dit is waar dat geestelike sake ‘n mens gewoonlik nederig maak. Maar by die beginners ontstaan daar uit die voorspoed dikwels tog ‘n sekere mate van verborge hoogmoed. Hulle raak ‘n bietjie selfvoldaan oor hul dade en oor hulle self. Dit lei daartoe dat hulle ‘n ydele en soms selfs hoogs ydele begeerte het om in ander mense se teenwoordigheid oor geestelike sake te praat. Soms doen hulle dit meer om ander te bepreek as om self te leer. In hulle gebede veroordeel hulle ander mense as hulle agterkom daardie persone nie vroom genoeg na hulle sin leef nie. Soms sê hulle dit sommer openlik. Hulle herinner ‘n mens daarmee aan die fariseër wat God verheerlik deur hom op sy eie werke te beroem en die tollenaar te verag (Luk.18:11-12).

2.2. Dikwels laat die duiwel by hierdie mense die vurigheid en begeerte toeneem om sulke en ander werke te doen sodat hulle hoogmoed en verwaandheid groter word. Die duiwel weet immers baie goed dat al hierdie werke en deugde wat hulle doen, nie net heeltemal nutteloos is nie, maar by hulle eerder verkeerd en ondeugdelik is. Dit gebeur dikwels dat sommige in die kwaad verval dat hulle wens dat niemand so goed sal lyk soos hulle self nie. Wanneer hulle ook al die kans kry, veroordeel hulle ander in woord en daad en smeer hulle swart deur te kyk na die splinter in die oog van hulle broer sonder om die balk in hulle eie oog te sien (Mat.7:3). Hulle sif die muggie en laat die kameel deurval (Mat.23:24).

2.3. Wanneer geestelike leiers hulle gesindheid en optrede soms nie goedkeur nie, dink hulle dat die leiers hulle gesindheid nie verstaan nie. Want hulle soek gretig daarna dat die leiers hul optrede waardeer en prys. Die leiers word dan as minder geesvervuld beskou omdat hulle die optrede van die beginners nie goedkeur en aanvaar nie. Onmiddellik wil hulle dan met iemand anders praat wat meer na hulle sin is en hulle kry sulke mense dan ook in die hande. Want gewoonlik wil hul praat met iemand wat hul weet hul sake sal aanprys en waardeer. En hulle vlug soos vir die dood van mense wat probeer om hulle op die veilige pad te lei deur hierdie gedrag te verhoed – of hulle word soms selfs vyandig teenoor sulke geestelike leiers. Dikwels koester hulle in hul eiewaan allerhande voornemens, maar hulle voer min daarvan uit. Menigmaal wil hulle dat ander mense van hul gesindheid en vroomheid weet met die gevolg dat hulle gereeld dit wys deur allerhande gebare, gekreun en ander seremonies. En soms het hulle selfs sulke ekstatiese vervoeringe – meer dikwels in die openbaar as in hul binnekamer. Dan skep hulle behae daarin as mense daarvan weet. Hulle is dikwels selfs versot hierop.

In hierdie gedeelte word uitgewys hoedat juis ‘n ernstige godsdienssin ‘n mens kan bedreig: dit gaan dan om ‘n verwaande godsdiens wat soek na erkenning. Ander mense moet beïndruk word. Die sleutelwoorde hier is: vurig en ywerig, verborge hoogmoed, selfvoldaan, ydele begeerte, veroordeel ander, hoogmoed en verwaandheid. Selfs mense wat met goeie bedoelings hier wil keer, word dan die slagoffer van die verwaande godsdiensssin. Die vuriges ontwikkel ‘n negatiewe houding teenoor mense wat hulle gesindheid nie goedpraat nie - en is weer eens hierin net so vol eiewaan (minder geesvervuld, vyandig teenoor).

Die gebroke riet

N.a.v. Psalm 51:19:

My hart is gebroke, niks werk meer vir my nie. Ek kyk na die son wat helder, geelhelder, op ‘n wonderskone lentedag alles rondom my vrolik in vele, helder, sprankelende kleure baai. Maar dié vreugde, die wonderkleure bly veraf, op ‘n afstand hang, verskrik voor die koue wat oor my hart afgedaal het.

My hart het my verlaat. Ps.40:13.

My gebroke hart is vol dowwe klanke van verval. Ek luister na die stemme van musiek, oor liefde en lewe met beloftes van troos en heling. Maar die soetheid steek in die lug vas, teruggedring voor die rasende gekreun van my sterwende hart. Al die tyd hoor ek, deurdringend, skerper, die nog rinkelende naklank van my hart wat in duisende stukkies breek.

Ek is kragteloos en heeltemal verbrysel. Ek brul van die gebons in my hart. Ps.38:9.

My gebroke hart woon in die gevangenis van die dowe. Om my en naby aan my is die vriendelike gesigte van hulle wat elke dag met my praat, met my saamleef. Maar ek merk hulle nie op nie. Gedurigdeur klop my hart selfverstrikt en sterwende in my. Ek wil leef met die dieper, wanhoop-wete: my hart is gebroke, dit is stukkend, vir altyd, onherstelbaar.

Platgeslaan soos die plante en verdor is my hart; Psalm 102:5

My hart is gebreek. Goeie gedagtes tel my nie op nie. Soet klanke dryf verby my sonder om my aan te raak. Die nabyheid van die wat by my woon, wat met my praat raak my nie. My hartklop het tot stilstand gekners, dit het yskoud in my geword.

Hoe lank sal ek planne beraam in my siel, met kommer in my hart oordag? Ps.13:3.

My hart is gebreek, ek is stukkend geslaan deur houe van vernietiging. Ingeteël in my selfmarteling, verstom woorde. Gebed syfer weg. Gedagtes syg vertroebeld in die moeras van my oorgawe.

Was my hart maar stukkend geslaan “deur die Here, deur sy heilige woorde”! (Jer.23:9). Ek merk die Here nêrens nie. Ek voel die rou verwerping, die rasperhoue van die kliewende tong. My hart is stukkend geslaan deur here, deur hul genadelose woorde. Die buitenste duisternis van mensetaal het in my kom woon.

O God, is U die Geneesheer van stukkende harte? Heel my hart, hierdie stukkende, gebroke hart van my. Kom, klaar op die duister, hierdie donkerte wat benoud, verstikkend in my kom woon het. Sou U dit tog kon doen? Kan U dit nog doen?

Wag op God! Evangeliese mistiek/spiritualiteit en gebed teenoor demoniese, menslike gebed

Ek lees die volgende aangrypende opmerkings van Paul Althaus:

“Niemand kan die ontmoeting met God self bewerk of dit in iemand anders se lewe bewerk nie. Dit word aan ons deur God alleen geskenk. Openbaring is ‘n gebeurtenis wat ons nie kan beheer nie. Dit is ‘n gebeurtenis wat plaasvind wanneer en waar God dit wil hê. God alleen kan God aan my openbaar... Ek ken God net soos wat God Godself aan my bekend maak.

Openbaring is daarom nie iets wat ek deur my gedagtes of dade kan ontvang of bereik nie. Dit kan nie verstaan of bewerk word nie. Ons kan en ons behoort onsself oop te stel vir die openbaring. Ons fokus op daardie werklikhede wat ons van ander mense ontvang het en wat volgens hulle God se getuienis aan hulle was. Ons fokus ons gedagtes daarop, ons soek na die werklike teenwoordigheid van God, ons soek God. Maar dit gaan nooit bloot net om ‘n saak van nadenke, van innerlike konsentrasie of innerlike besinning nie. Dit is ook nie net maar ‘n kwessie van vrae stel oor God nie. Dit is altyd ‘n kwessie van ‘n mens se optrede, van ‘n hele lewenshouding/lewensistelling: ons soek daarna om van ons kant af die weg oop te maak vir ‘n ontmoeting met God, ons oop te stel, om te “verstaan” soos wat ons dink ons dit verstaan. Ons kan en ons behoort ‘n ontmoeting in hierdie ernstige lig te beskou. Maar ons kan dit nooit op hierdie manier verwerklik nie. En die ontmoeting van God is ook geheel en al nie afhanklik daarvan nie. Dit word geskenk waar God dit wil gee aan hulle wat dit nie verwag nie, maar ook aan hulle wat dit verwag. Geen oefeninge van enige soort, geen geestelike inspanning, geen instelling van ‘n mens se denke, geen metodes (“Hoe kan ons kennis van die dieper dinge verkry?”), geen asketisme of onttrekking, geen “vas” op watter manier ook al, geen soeke of gebed kan dit afdwing nie (hoewel dit sekerlik beloof word dat dit geskenk sal word in antwoord op sulke soekende gebed).

Wanneer God aan my geopenbaar word, sit dit natuurlik my denke, my wil en my dade in beweging. Geloof waardeur ons die openbaring vir ons toeëien, is ons reaksie. Ons kan nie die openbaring toeëien, vashou sonder dat ons daaroor nadink en daaroor mymer/mediteer en sonder om dit prakties te gehoorsaam nie. Maar hierdie geloof word voorafgegaan deur suiwer afwagting – en dit is die primêre grondslag vir ons dade. Openbaring is iets wat alleenlik deur God gedoen word. Ons kan maar net die openbaring ontvang in ‘n passiewe sin van die woord. As ons aktief reageer, volg dit op wat aan ons in die openbaring gegee word. Ek word verstaan, aangeraak, gegryp, aangespreek, geken en ek herken myself as iemand wat hierdie handelinge ondergaan. Alles wat ek weet hang af daarvan dat ek geken word.” (Aangehaal in The Minister’s Prayer Book, xiii-xiv).

Daarom is gebed ‘n reaksie op die Woord van God. As gebed nie ‘n reaksie op God se Woord is nie, is gevaarlik. Daarom, vervolg The Minister’s Prayer Book – in ‘n aanhaling van Daniel Jenkins,

is gebed nie noodwendig altyd ‘n goeie ding nie. Tensy dit, soos dit hoort, gerig is aan die regte Persoon, kan gebed iets demonies word en ontelbare skade aan die mensdom en die wêreld aanrig. Dit kan hoogs gevaarlik wees, die mees subtiele en effektiewe manier om die mens van God se aangesig af te sny. Natuurlike menslike gebed gryp en reik uit na God op die mens se voorwaardes. Dit kan op kru, maar ook op hoogs subtiele maniere die verantwoordelike keuse vir God, die self-toewyding aan God, die volle gelykwording aan die wil van God vermy – iets wat nie in egte gebed sal gebeur nie. Menslike gebed, soos menslike roem en prag en waarheid en alle menslike godsdiens moet eers self verlos word voordat dit ‘n bron van groot seëning kan word. Ons taak is nie om ons gebedslewe te versorg en om spiritualiteit na te jaag nie. Ons taak is om na God se Woord te luister en vir God daarop in gebed te antwoord.

Laat my op U wag, God, totdat U na my uitreik, totdat ek voedsel van U op die regte tyd ontvang - Psalm 104:27; Psalm 130.

Spiritualiteit en nederigheid

Ek lees hierdie week uittreksels uit die blog van Corné J. Bekker (http://innerresourcesforleaders.blogspot.com). Onder andere het hy hierdie pragtige gedeelte:

Pride is deceitful. A telling old Jewish joke shows the changing face of pride. In the village synagogue, during the High Holidays, the rabbi prostrates himself on the floor, saying, "God, before You I am nothing." Immediately the richest man in town prostrates himself on the floor, saying, "God, before You I am nothing." Right after that the town beggar prostrates himself on the floor, saying, "God, before You I am nothing." The rich man whispers to the rabbi,"Look who thinks he's nothing."Dr. Paul Wong, Professor at Western Trinity University proposes the following practices in the pursuit of humilty, practices that I think translates very well to organizational leadership behavior:

* Acknowledging our wrong doing
* Receiving correction and feedback graciously
* Refraining from criticizing others
* Forgiving others who have wronged us
* Apologizing to others who have been wronged by us
* Enduring unfair treatments with patience and a forgiving spirit
* Thinking and speaking about the good things of other people
* Rejoicing over other people's success
* Counting our blessings for everything, good and bad
* Seeking opportunities to serve others
* Willing to remain anonymous in helping others
* Showing gratitude for our successes
* Giving due credit to others for our successes
* Treating success as a responsibility to do more for others
* Willing to learn from our failures
* Assuming responsibility for our failures
* Accepting our limitations and circumstances
* Accepting social reality of discrimination and prejudice
* Treating all people with respect regardless of their social status
* Enjoying the lowly status of being an outsider and a nobody

Hellen Keller, the great teacher, once declared: "I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker. "

Further Reading:Here is a link to Professor Wong's essay on humility:http://www.meaning.ca/articles/presidents_column/humility_nov03.htm

Nouwen, die kerk en spiritualiteit (2)

Nouwen skryf egter oor die kerk een van die aangrypendste stukkies in sy Dagboek – iets waaraan ek dikwels dink.

Die gesag van meelewing

Die kerk maak ons dikwels diep seer.

Mense met geestelike gesag verwond ons dikwels deur hulle woorde, gesindhede en eise. Juis omdat ons godsdiens ons sulke diep vrae laat vra oor kwessies van lewe en dood, kan ons godsdienstige gevoelens so maklik gekwets word.

Predikante besef selde hoe ’n kritiese opmerking, ’n gebaar van verwerping, of ’n daad van ongeduld ’n leeftyd lank onthou word deur hulle teen wie dit gemik was.

Daar is so ’n geweldige honger na sin in ons lewe, na vertroosting en bemoediging, na vergifnis en versoening, na herstel en genesing, dat elkeen met gesag in die kerk gedurig herinner moet word dat “meelewing” en “ontferming” die beste woorde is om godsdienstige gesag mee te definieer.

Laat ons dan ons oë gevestig hou op Jesus, Hy wie se gesag juis die sigbaarste was in sy diepe meelewing met mense.

Liefde wat ons vir mekaar het, word hier ingrypend gekwalifiseer met ontferming. Liefde gaan oor ‘n houding in ons waarin ons ander mense raaksien vir die liefde wat hulle nodig het – ongeag wie hulle is en wat hulle sê. Nouwen se gehoor word hier nogal op ‘n opvallende manier beskryf. Dit is mense wat geweldig honger na

• sin in die lewe,
• vertroosting en bemoediging,
• vergifnis en versoening
• herstel en genesing.

Mense steek hierdie diep honger weg agter honderde maskers:

• woede (omdat ek nie kan kry nie...)
• angs (dat ek nog verder gaan verloor...)
• klouerigheid (ek wil nie alleen wees nie...)
• besitlikheid (ek moet iets besit....)
• afknouerigheid (as jy nie van my hou nie.....)

Ontferming beteken dat die kerk t.s.v. al hierdie simptome wil uitreik na sulke honger mense.

Die kerk, spiritualiteit en die liefde (1): ontmaskering en genesing

‘n Kerkleier vertel my dat hy as lid van ‘n kommissie wat ‘n baie aktuele saak ondersoek, van tyd tot tyd kommentaar daaroor in die media moet lewer. Hy kry klompe reaksies wat in ‘n lêer geliasseer word. Sy dogter het die ander dag daarop afgekom. Sy was buite haarself van onsteltenis. Natuurlik uit simpatie met haar pa, haar bloedpa, maar haar woorde sny beendiep en onthul ‘n onsteltenis wat nie net bloot ‘n beskermingsrefleks is nie:

“Kan dit kerkmense wees wat só skryf?”

Die vertelling bly by my – omdat ek dink aan die geloofskrisis van daardie kind. Dit is haar indrukke van mense naby aan haar en haar huis – mense wat in die geloof ‘n kring vorm wat in lewe en leer eerder ‘n getuienis behoort te lewer van besondere bande wat hulle met mekaar het.

Ons het almal negatiewe ervaringe met die kerk. Dit val my op hoeveel kerkmense hulle daarmee besig hou – nog onlangs lees ek Rahner se nadenke oor die onmoontlike onderwerp – die sondigheid van die kerk! Ek onthou toe ek 'n ruk terug Nouwen se Dagboek vertaal het, hoe ek ingetrek is deur wat hy oor die kerk skryf. Hy het ‘n hele paar oordenkings, veral in sy Oktobermaand-stukke oor die kerk. En hy worstel duidelik met die feilbaarheid van die kerk.

Vanoggend hoor ek weer kerknuus soos koue water in my gesig uitgeskiet. Ek kry ‘n wrang en diepe onvergenoegdheid oor my. Ek gaan terug na Nouwen om te kyk op watter manier ek hierdie ervaring vanuit spiritualiteit kan benader. Een na die ander van sy stukke vertel my hoe die kerk bestaan uit allerhande soorte mense wat erg van mekaar verskil en groot foute maak. Ek moet hulle aanvaar, want hulle is ook op reis met God.

Ek sit terug, onwillig gewillig (!) om toe te laat dat sy gedagtes my lei. In sy stukkie van 25 Oktober herken ek myself as hy skryf dat ons net in die kerk vrugbaar kan wees as ons werklik liefhet.

Liefde vir mense in die kerk wat so neerbuigend, arrogant, liefdeloos is en van beter moet weet? Dis ‘n groot eis. Maar hy is reg. En ek het dit so dikwels in die gemeente gesien – hoe erg vernietigend mense teenoor mekaar kan wees. Maar as ‘n mens ‘n liefdesverhouding met hulle het, skuif dinge. Tog wel. ‘n Mens moet vrugbaar wees, nie verbitter nie.

Ek wonder hóé en wáar ek hierdie liefde gaan kry. Miskien in die wete van eie foute, mislikheid teenoor ander, veral hulle naby aan my. Só self-vernietigend kan ‘n mens eenvoudig nie aanhou lewe nie. Maar iewers kry 'n mens dit dan tog by die dieper bron, die helderder manier om te verstaan: Jesus wat ‘n oor genees in die tuin van skande en verraad – simbool van sy konsekwente liefdespad. Dit is ‘n sterk liefde wat die skerp woord skep: sit terug jou swaard – hou op met die geweld.

Dit moet ek op my lewensreis my deel maak, dring dit tot my deur terwyl ek oor die kerk, Nouwen en hierdie oggend nadink: maar uiteindelik sal ek moet vrugbaar wees – en daarvoor het ek die liefde nodig. En die simboolryke verhale in die Woord wat my telkens aan die liefde herinner en daarmee verbind.

Die liefde is die ironiese antwoord op die liefdeloosheid wat so hoogty in die kerk vier. Dit is iewers so breekbaar maar net ‘n daad - "liefde" – maar dit is ook ‘n liefde wat die sterk getuienis laat hoor:

Jare gelede breek alle hel in die kerkraad los omdat een van die heethoofde weer met sy kenmerkende skerp tong ander te na gekom het. Die spanning loop hoog. ‘n Mede-broeder skryf ‘n brief van beswaar teen sy venynigheid. Maar die brief self is gelaai met harde uitsprake en veroordeling. So bots ons kop aan kop. Ons geweld skep geweld.

Ek sit met my hande in my hare en kyk die briefskrywer in die oë: waar ‘n mens jou verset teen die liefdeloosheid om ons, moet dit juis daardie liefdeloosheid transendeer – sonder om swak te wees. En in die oomblik wat ons oog om oog sien, weet ons almal helder hoe feilbaar ons is. Deur die ontmaskering van ons geweld waarmee ons geweld teengaan, kom daar by ons 'n oomblik van herkenning - ek is niks beter as my vyand nie. En dit is al 'n stuk genesing wat daar deurbreek.

“Sit terug jou swaard.” “Hou op daarmee” (Lk.22:51). Dit is die sterker woord, opgevolg deur die eintlike daad van genesing – stop die bloeding, maar genees die wond - sit die oor terug. Juis omdat die kerk so liefdeloos is en so ongelooflik skade kan aandoen, het die kerk die egte, goddelike liefde nodig. Daardie liefde wat geweld - tot skaamkry toe - kan uitwys en dit met genesing kan verplaas: so wil ons nie weer met mekaar omgaan nie.