Wednesday, June 06, 2007

cemeteries

I do love a good ramble through a cemetery. Recently, I was reading Cornelius Plantinga's Not the Way It's Supposed to Be and came across a passage on spiritual health. It stuck me deeply and I shared it with a few friends over coffee about a month ago. Betsy was kind enough to type it for me. It's long, but rich.

A spiritually hygienic person is one who combines strengths and flexibilities, disciplines and freedoms, all working together from a renewable source of vitality. This is a person who flourishes like a fine sapling rooted into the bank of a dependable stream.

What are some of the features of this flourishing? As Christians see her, a spiritually whole person longs in certain classic ways. She longs for God and the beauty of God, for Christ and Christlikeness, for the dynamite of the Holy Spirit and spiritual maturity. She longs for spiritual hygiene itself—and not just as a consolation prize when she cannot be rich and envied instead. She longs for other human beings: she wants to love them and to be loved by them. She hungers for social justice. She longs for nature, for its beauties and graces, for the sheer particularity of the way of a squirrel with a nut. As we might expect, her longings dim from season to season. When they do, she longs to long again.

She is a person of character consistency, a person who rings true wherever you tap her. She keeps promises. She weeps with those who weep and perhaps more impressively, rejoices with those who rejoice. She does all these things in ways that express her own personality and culture but also a general “mind of Christ” that is cross-culturally unmistakable.

Her motives include faith—a quiet confidence in God and in the mercies of God that radiate from the self-giving work of Jesus Christ. She knows God is good; she also feels assured that God is good to her. Her faith secures her against the ceaseless oscillations of pride and despair familiar to every human being who has taken refuge in the cave of her own being and tried there to bury all her insecurities under a mound of achievements. When her faith slips, she retains faith enough to believe that the Spirit of God, whose presence is her renewable resource, will one day secure her faith again.

Since faith fastens on God’s benevolence, it yields gratitude, which in turn sponsors risk-taking in the service of others. Grateful people want to let themselves go; faithful people dare to do it. People tethered to God by faith can let themselves go because they know they will get themselves back.

Grateful people overflow a little, especially with thanksgiving and passed-on kindnesses. But they do not therefore lack discipline. In fact self-indulgence tends to suppress gratitude; self-discipline tends to generate it. That is why gluttony is a deadly sin: oddly, it is an appetite suppressant. The reason is that a person’s appetites are linked: full stomachs and jaded palates take the edge from our hunger and thirst for justice. And they spoil the appetite for God.

The classic longings motivate a sound like; so do faith and gratitude. Of course, all these things fail from time to time. Spiritually healthy people know very well the drag of sloth and doubt. They know about spiritual depression. They know what it is like to feel keenly that the world has been emptied of God. That is why a spiritually sound person disciplines her life by such spiritual exercises as prayer, fasting, confession, worship, and reflective walks through cemeteries. She visits boring persons and tries to take an interest in them, ponders the lives of saints and compares them to her own, spends time and money on just and charitable causes. A person of spiritual hygiene covets the virtues and character strengths that Christians since Paul have always prized—compassion, for example, and patience. She seeks these and other excellences—endurance, hope, humility, forthrightness, hospitality. She then tries to work them into a regular practice routine, always aware that in order to grow in these excellences she needs both to strive for them and to fail in her striving. She needs to persist through striving and failure and growth in order to become a free and joyful contributor to shalom.

3 Comments:

At 6/06/2007 9:29 PM, Blogger Allison said...

That's beautiful! Thanks so much for your friend for typing it and thanks for posting!

We've often talked about how cemeteries used to be planted around churches for a purpose-- so that as we go to worship we would contemplate the eventuality of death, the communion of saints, and the glory of the resurrection, just in a short walk up to the church steps.

My husband's family has a reunion every year next to the family cemetery. Feasting across the road from all those dead relatives used to seem off, but I like it. The kids used to play among the headstones! We're going this Sunday, and I plan to take a walk through it with our son and remember this post. Thanks!

 
At 6/12/2007 1:09 AM, Blogger kate said...

we still need to visit the decatur cemetery.

 
At 6/13/2007 10:24 AM, Blogger Sarah said...

Chris and I read this a few years ago . . . we need to revisit it again! Meanwhile, I'm soaking in this week's New Yorker (it's the Fiction Edition - hip, hip hooray!)and I think I need to send it to you.

 

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