"Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools"

It's not often that I post about a book. It's not often that I find a new book that says something new enough -- and true enough -- to shift my perspective. On the recommendation of someone at church, I've been reading Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools by Tyler Staton. I was skeptical of the book at first: it's definitely not written in the same way as books that I've cherished from, say, C.S. Lewis. The author did not invent the modern editorial trend to structure chapters in a way that verges on click-bait; all the same I was only reading it to follow through on a recommendation received. But now and then I'd come across a gem of insight like this one: 

Everything we interact with in this small, cramped, secular world of our own making, we have the potential of mastering. In fact, we must master it quickly in order to survive -- the most efficient route between home and the office, how to move up the ranks at work, how to eat sushi without looking stupid, how to cut across lanes on our bicycles and live to tell the tale. And if we can't master it, we can always avoid it. I'll just change industries, avoid chopsticks, and take an Uber. 

Prayer can't be mastered. Prayer always means submission. To pray is to willingly put ourselves in the unguarded, exposed position. There is no climb. There is no control. There is no mastery. There is only humility and hope. 

To pray is to risk being naive, to risk believing, to risk playing the fool. To pray is to risk trusting someone who might let you down. To pray is to get our hopes up. And we've learned to avoid that. So we avoid prayer. (p. 14)

It's not a scholarly book. It's a book of experience with insight and perspective. I'm still working my way through. It's turning out to be a book where I re-read certain sections because I want to imprint the insights more clearly in my mind. But some of the insights, such as that one, have been very much worth my consideration. 

Resenting religion -- looking for a path forward

I've made no secret that I attend a 12-step recovery group, and that these groups have some interesting tools for self-examination in the recovery toolbox. In every 12-step recovery group I've heard of, resentments are targeted for spiritual cleanup. There are tools for identifying resentments, taking responsibility for any unfinished work, and resolving them. If someone carries a resentment against someone who was a friend, spouse, employer, relative, or any other circumstance, it is expected for the person in recovery to do the hard work of identifying and resolving it with the help of various tools in the program. This is considered necessary for restoring a full and healthy mental state. And people are encouraged to see that a bad experience with one person (friend, spouse, family, or employer) does not mean that they should distrust all friends, all men or all women, all families, all employers, or even continue carrying the grudge. Over-generalization comes easily to us when we have been put at risk, injured, or even slighted -- especially if we were young at the time, with unformed worldviews and minimal skills for resolving things like that. 

But there are some odd exceptions, and religion seems to be one of them. In religion as in other areas of life, problems come up from the flawed people involved. When it comes to religion, a fair number of people enshrine their resentments as a proud part of their worldview. I am not here discussing people who honestly have philosophical objections; that's a separate question that is not before me today. I am discussing times when people are hurt and angry, have long carried a resentment for something from years ago, and direct that resentment against all people of a certain faith or denomination. The various things experienced years ago -- let's give the benefit of the doubt -- may have been worthy of the anger or fear they inspired, may have been just cause for distrust of the people involved. All that is allowed for, in the general cleanup of resentments -- but still recovery usually comes with the expectation that resentments should be addressed and resolved. In other areas of recovery, it is considered a problem to treasure a hurt so that it can be weaponized, especially against people uninvolved in the original situation. It's an escalation beyond what makes sense, though hurt and anger may not follow rational channels. 

The most intense, adamant atheists I've met on discussion boards tended to have fewer philosophical objections and more anger. And anger doesn't resolve for arguing about it. For an outsider, listening and understanding may help the person who is angry. But it may not. For resolving resentments, the person with the resentment needs to see the resentment as a bad thing and participate willingly in resolving it. So long as the resentment has a valued place in the worldview, I have not identified a path forward. Still, a brief survey of social media comments is enough to convince me: it is important that we try to find that path forward. 

Are we "by nature" sinful and unclean?

I belong to a church body that begins each worship service with confession of sins from those who worship, followed by the proclamation of God's forgiveness from the pastor. We have several different formats for the service, and so our confession of sins may be worded slightly differently from one service to the next. In one version, we say we are "by nature" sinful and unclean. This has been a cause for some discussion among the theologians. 

If we are "by nature" sinful and unclean, there are those who see that as indirectly blaming God as creator or criticizing the work of creation. After all, if we are "by nature" sinful, who created that nature? There is an easy-enough response that our current nature is not as God intended, not as we were originally created. Apart from the grace of God, human nature is prone to sin. 

Human nature was never intended to be apart from the grace of God. The relationship of grace between God and man is established in our existence and was never meant to be broken. God, who is present in all things -- who fills all things in every way -- is absent from our thoughts, from our hearts, from our intentions. That is how we are out of step with nature. That is the lack of grace, and why redemption requires God's presence, "God with us", and God's spirit within us. That is what restores the lack inside us, the cure that meets the root cause of the spiritual illness.