Collective Contrition – Reaching Out Blog #14

“O Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy. If you, O LORD, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness; therefore you are feared. I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I put my hope. My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning. O Israel, put your hope in the LORD, for with the LORD is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.”

Psalm 130:2-8

“Shouldn’t that crush our hearts and make us bow our heads in an endless sorrow?  Shouldn’t that bring all human beings who believe that life is worth living together in a common contrition and a public penance?  Shouldn’t that bring us finally to a confession that we as a people have sinned and need forgiveness and healing?” (Henri Nouwen)

Henri Nouwen gives this quote in the context of having a contrite heart.  A contrite heart is a humble, confessing and repenting heart.  Contrition is good but what is not good is too much individual focus.  Nouwen writes, “But if the catastrophical events of our days, the wars, mass murders, unbridled violence, crowded prisons, torture chambers, the hunger and illness of millions of people and the unnamable misery of a major part of the human race is safely kept outside the solitude of our hearts, our contrition remains no more than a pious emotion.”

We have to let some of the pain in.  We have to allow the condition of the human race to penetrate our hardened hearts so that we re-discover the real value of this life God has blessed us with.  It is in the solitude of our hearts where we most need to re-connect with the human race and lift its fallen condition before a holy God.

I’m guilty, how about you?  How often do I come across the pain and suffering of my fellow human beings and choose to steel my heart so that it doesn’t penetrate to my core?  What am I afraid of?

I’ll tell you exactly what I’m afraid of.  I’m afraid I’ll be able to see nothing else.  I’m afraid I’ll have to walk away from my own life for one minute and help another.  I’m afraid I’ll be changed and that the change will be painful.  I’m afraid I’ll have to give up my own version of happiness.  I’m afraid I won’t know where to stop.  I’m afraid there won’t be enough of me to really help.  I’m afraid I’ll have to act like a Christian and live the life God has called me to.

I say I value life but do I?  I say sin is sin but am I really willing say I am sinful?

Ouch.

Here’s the truth in this matter:  we are members of the human race and, in some way, we are responsible for what does and does not happen.  We own the human condition together.  Do I think I’m better than those who are suffering on the other side of the world?  How about those people on the other side of the block?  I am not above the human condition.  I am a part of the human race and I have a part in confessing the sins of my race.  We all do.  It’s a collective contrition.  What would happen if Christians actually cared for the world they live in?  What would happen if we truly lifted one another up in prayer deep in the solitude of our hearts?   Could a world be changed for the better?  Could we find the faith with which to move a mountain of humanity?

Oh Lord, break through to the inner core of my heart and, there, allow enough of the pain and suffering of this world to flow in to move me towards understanding my role in the human race and towards the action I need to provide to the world around me.

Open Doors – Reaching Out Blog #3

“And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge the God of your father, and serve him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for the LORD searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts. If you seek him, he will be found by you; but if you forsake him, he will reject you forever.”

I Chronicles 28:9

“When I came to this country for the first time, I was struck by the open-door life style.  In schools, institutes and office buildings everyone worked with open doors.  I could see the secretaries typing behind their machines, the teachers teaching behind their lecterns, the administrators administering behind their desks and the occasional readers reading behind their books.  It seemed as if everyone was saying to me, ‘Do not hesitate to walk in and interrupt at any time,’ and most conversations had the same open quality—giving me the impression that people had no secrets and were ready for any question ranging from their financial status to their sex life.”

It didn’t take long for Henri Nouwen to discover that this perceived openness wasn’t really all that open even though he sensed that “the American way of life tends to be suspicious toward closedness.”  I read that statement and it didn’t take me long to agree.  I’ve run into that suspicion too often.

In America we desire transparency, especially from our leaders, but I wonder if there is such a thing as too much transparency.  Transparency, as I understand it, means your life is open for all to see.  Now, to an extent, this can be a good thing and is certainly encouraged in the Bible.  We are meant to confess our sins to one another and pray for one another.

I’d like to think about that for a moment.  The Church is meant to be a special group of people.  People you can trust with your life as well as your secrets.  Does this mean the Church should know everything about you?  Of course not.  Nouwen suggests the need for special boundaries to protect the mystery in our lives.  Even in the Church, and especially in this day and age, that mystery is still needed.  We are not meant to be completely open about everything in our lives.  There are, however, a few relationships that should be cultivated where more openness is a necessity.  Husband and wife, for example, should the most open human relationship we have – though Nouwen suggests the mystery should remain, to an extent, in that relationship as well.  It’s that mystery that makes the relationship exciting over the years.  Another example of more transparent relationships is in the idea of accountability partners.  Often we find our Christian walk easier with someone to share more of that mystery with — someone who can give us sound advice and spiritual help.  In cases of addiction it becomes even more necessary to open ourselves to up in order to receive the help and strength we need to overcome.

Still, there is no one who needs to know everything in our lives except the One who already does.  Remember that the current discussion from the book is on the issue of loneliness moving to solitude as a goal.  The problem we have is that this goal doesn’t make sense to us.  Our culture suggests that the real answer to loneliness is togetherness, not solitude.  And how can we have togetherness when we have boundaries and mystery?  These things hinder the solution and, thus, we must remove the hindrances.  And it’s here that I think I’ve caught on to what Nouwen is getting at with this whole idea of solitude.  Complete transparency only works in a safe environment.  An environment free from greed and jealousy and pride.  Without that safe environment, we get hurt and, when we get hurt, we close down.

Let’s say I’m being particularly transparent and I confess some secret sin in my life.  Then let’s say that 99% of the people hearing this confession only want what’s best for me.  They want to help me to defeat that sin and be restored in fellowship with God.  That’s great but what about the 1% who allow sin to drive what they are going to do with this new knowledge of me?  What happens to me when this secret gets out there are those who can and will use it against me?  You see, the environment isn’t safe.

But there are safer environments for such confessions.  The closer the circle gets the more transparency you will find.  But there is no circle closer than the one between you and God.  There you will find complete transparency and the safest environment filled with unconditional love.  What’s more, it is there that you will find solitude.

Hmmm.  Nouwen just might have something here.