Sticks and stones may break my bones, a photo by Joe Doe 2010 on Flickr.

All over the face of the earth the avarice and lust of men and women breed unceasing divisions among them, and the wounds that tear them from union with one another widen and open out into huge wars. Murder, massacres, revolution, hatred, the slaughter and torture of the bodies and souls of men and women, the destruction of cities by fire, the starvation of millions, the annihilation of populations and finally the cosmic inhumanity of atomic war: Christ is massacred in His members, torn limb from limb; God is murdered in men and women.

The history of the world, with the material destruction of cities and nations and people,. expresses the interior division that tyrannizes the souls of all men and women, and even of the saints.

Even the innocent, even those in whom Christ lives by love, even those who want with their whole heart to love one another, remain divided and separate…

As long as we are on earth, the love that unites us will bring us suffering by our very contact with one another, because this love is the resetting of a Body of broken bones. Even saints cannot live with saints on this earth without some anguish, without some pain at the differences that come between them.

There are two things which men and women can do about the pain of disunion with other men and women. They can love or they can hate.

Hatred recoils from the sacrifice and the sorrow that are the price of this resetting of bones. It refuses the pain of reunion.

There is in every weak, lost and isolated member of the human race an agony of hatred born of their own helplessness, their own isolation. Hatred is the sign and the expression of loneliness, of unworthiness, or insufficiency. And in so far as each of us is lonely, is unworthy, each one hates him/herself. Some of us are aware of this self-hatred, and because of it we reproach ourselves and punish ourselves needlessly. [But] punishment cannot cure the feeling that we are unworthy. There is nothing we can do about it as long as we feel that we are isolated, insufficient, helpless, alone.

Others, who are less conscious of their own self-hatred, realize it in a different form by projecting it onto others. There is a proud and self-confident hate, strong and cruel, which enjoys the pleasure of hating, for it is directed outward to the unworthiness of the another. But this strong and happy hate does not realize that like all hate, it destroys and consumes the [one] that hates, and not the object that is hated. Hate in any form is self-destructive, and even when it triumphs physically it triumphs in its own spiritual ruin.

Strong hate, the hate that takes joy in hating, is strong because it does not believe itself to be unworthy and alone. It feels the support of a justifying God, of an idol of war, an avenging and destroying spirit. From such blood-drinking gods the human race was once liberated, with great toil and terrible sorrow, by the death of a God Who delivered Himself to the Cross and suffered the pathological cruelty of His own creatures out of pity for them. In conquering death He opened their eyes to the reality of a love which asks no questions about worthiness, a love which overcomes hatred and destroys death. But men and women have now come to reject this divine revelation of pardon, and they are consequently returning to the old war gods, the gods that insatiably drink the blood and eat the flesh of men and women. It is easier to serve the hate gods because they thrive on the worship of collective fanaticism. To serve the hate gods, one has only to be blinded by collective passion. To serve the God of Love, one must be free, one must face the terrible responsibility to love in spite of all unworthiness, whether in oneself or in one’s neighbor.

From Thomas Merton’s New Seeds of Contemplation, ch. 4 (pp. 71-74)

From an email I sent to my church today…

In the last few weeks I have done a lot of thinking about the church. Not merely this church, but the whole North American church. I have come to some realizations more clearly than ever before and I’m going to tell you what they are, but please prepare for some honesty and frankness.

It’s time to just say it.  Folks, to me, the church stinks. Church-as-usual I mean.  I’m not a fan of boring sermons, of music that sounds like you’ve blasted a hundred years back in time, of stuffy suits, of marquis with cheesy slogans on them out by the road, and of having to mind your p’s and q’s so much that you feel like a fake anytime you even come close to acting like the person you really are. I’m not a fan of feeling like I have to use spiritual language so that people will know I’m seeking God.

The Lord told me this is what we should do, instead of “Let’s do this.”
God’s vision for Wildwind involves… instead of “Here’s my vision.”
How’s your spiritual life, instead of “Tell me how you are doing, really.”

The fact is I don’t, and never have, cared about the “code language” that helps one Christian identify another. I have noticed that most people at Wildwind don’t seem to either, and that’s one reason why I love our church. Mostly, I’m not a fan of churches where people who are struggling can’t be honest about that. I’m thankful that I pastor and attend a church where I can be honest about things, even as pastor, and still be seen as someone who wants God in my life.

Wildwind will continue to be about what it has always been about. Honesty. The pursuit of a godly life together in an honest way. Honesty says I don’t know all, or even most, of the answers just because I’m the pastor. (In fact, as pastor I am simply the “chief seeker.”) Honesty admits that the lives we all lead publicly are usually the cleaned-up and pressed versions of the ones we live in private. Honesty admits that our actions and language are usually different Monday through Saturday than they are on Sundays and understands that we’re neither any better, nor any worse, than the person sitting next to us. Instead of trying to muster up spiritual feelings on Sunday mornings before we get to church, honesty understands that staggering into church broken sometimes is what it’s all about — after all, we just might find healing there. Wildwind’s core value that covers honesty, is authenticity.

I can’t tell you how many times I have staggered into church broken in the past few months. Even so I have found, and continue to find, healing at Wildwind Church. And it is not a building that is healing me, but the people who are Wildwind. It is you who listen to me tell you sometimes that I am lost, and yet are willing to continue to follow; you who know I am not who I wish I could be, yet have faith that somehow — like you — I’m okay with God; you who walk this road with me in small group, through encouraging notes you send to me, through continuing to believe I have something worthwhile to say to you, even though you know I’m not always a genius at managing my own life.

Let Wildwind always be that place. After all, I know if I can find not judgment but healing and grace there, it is available to everyone. I’m the one up front, therefore I’m the easiest target — the one easiest to hit with stones of judgment, and the one held to the highest standard (as it should be). And yet I have received not one single email or call from someone sitting in judgment of my recent struggles. Please know that no matter where you are, what you are struggling with, or how messed up you feel inside, there is grace for you. I have been on the receiving end of that grace, and I know there is plenty left for all who need it.