Danielle Shroyer

I have been known to describe emerging church things as “Gestalt-y” which, I know, is a word I’ve entirely fabricated.  And though I am partial to that word and idea even still, I do think Moltmann does a much better job of describing what I am trying to communicate when I use it in this excerpt below from Sun of Righteousness, Arise!:

Different biosystems or organisms do not merely cooperate with each other; they also integrate themselves in each other and form more complex forms of life. Without these processes life would not evolve. In the wake of these integrations new forms of organization develop.

It is generally said that ‘the whole is more than the sum of its parts’. That is true. The whole is also more than the cooperation of separate parts with each other. The whole is a new principle for organizing the functions of the parts in relation to each other and on behalf of the whole. New organizational forms of this kind evidently arise from the aggregate conditions of the parts like a leap into a new quality. Because the whole displays a new quality, it is not just ‘more than’ the sum of the parts; it is also different.

There are those who say (quite often, at least to me) that the “emerging church” is simply a rediscovery of something old–liturgy, or Wesleyan something or other, or Lutheran this or that. And in part, that is likely true. But I think what Moltmann says so clearly here is why I tend to reject that argument overall.  It is not simply a matter of rediscovery. It is a matter of putting these old and new things together in a way that “leap into a new quality” altogether. It is different, even if parts of it may feel the same to you. Inside it, philosophically and I would even argue metaphysically, it’s not just Lutheranism going on (as great as that might be). It possesses a unique quality that is just now emerging.

Last night at Journey we talked about spiritual maturity and harmony, where we begin to see God’s presence all around us and begin to realize in a deep way how we are all connected.  In that place, our love for God becomes both more personal and less about us. That change is really, really significant, but it’s subtle enough (and full of enough mystery) to defy easy description.  Moltmann talks about this contemplation of God’s presence in Sun of Righteousness, Arise! (p.184) and, as usual, says it far better than I could:

The vision of God confers eternal community with God and likeness to God. The seeing of the divine plenitude is the highest form of the love of God, the love of God for God’s sake. This loving vision of God lets those who see it forget themselves, but it does not make them selfless. They do not lose themselves, and are not submerged in the ocean of the deity. They remain themselves; otherwise the seeing of God would lose its subject. The love unites those who are different and distinguishes those who are joined…The sight of God leads to fruitio Dei, the full enjoyment of God. It is not only the eyes which are blessed with the perception of what was hidden; it is all the senses, with which the presence of God is tasted, felt, smelled, heard and seen, so that God will be ‘all in all’.  In this way an eternal blessedness comes into being in the eternal life. The eternal blessedness comes about when the whole pleroma or fullness of the deity opens itself. That transcends earthly happiness through continually new delight and through never-ending jubilation.”

To forget yourself, but not to lose yourself…this is the tension of having your faith become more deeply personal (and therefore effective, in that you are truly living it out) while at the same time being less about Y.O.U.  This blessedness feels like a kind of fullness, a wholeness, that can only mean the presence of God.  And the kind of love that can unite those who are different and distinguish those who are joined?  That is the deep mystery of the love of God, brought to us in the communion of Father, Son and Spirit, unique and yet one.

I think I could attempt to write all day about this and not get a word-handle on it.  As a word person, this is frustrating. As a follower of Jesus, it’s the way I recognize the Way- clearly visible, yet impossible to own/describe/summarize/categorize/control. And that place is how I know I’m home.

Happy Moltmann Monday!  Below is a snippet from Experiences in Theology p.337:

We ascribe wonder as the root of knowledge to the child, and to the primal child in every grown-up.  What we expect of the old, in contrast, is wisdom. The old are supposed to have become wise through their experience of life and through the approach of death. But although we undoubtedly assume that one becomes wise through experiences of life and death, this process is not a matter of course. ‘Sixty years old and not a bit wiser’ people once sang in a hit which was a favorite with everyone who wanted to remain forever young. But how do we become wise?

Wisdom does not spring directly from experience. It is the fruit of the reflective handling of experiences. It is not spontaneous perception which makes us wise; it is the perceiving of the perception. Wisdom is the ethics of knowledge. If we make a conscience out of consciousness, and hence are cognizant of what we do and leave undone, we become wise. We look over our own shoulder, so to speak, and ask: What are you doing? What purpose do your findings serve? What have experiences made of your life? What will remain when you die? Wisdom is a reflective counter-movement to spontaneous wonder. The wondering discovery of the world is one thing; wise dealings with these perceptions another.”

I appreciate this metaphor of wise self-reflection as looking over our own shoulder, perhaps focusing on the shadow that is cast behind us.  Confession is meant to help us do this, as are all the spiritual disciplines, really.  This is obvious enough, but what I find most helpful is how Moltmann puts this search for wisdom into play with childlike wonder.  I think he’s right that, though different, they ought not be so far removed from one another, as if a chasm exists between them that has no bridge.  After all, Peter Pan grappled with the tension between childlike naivete and his own shadow, right?

Hello all!  After a nice little vacation from the screen, here’s a short but sweet punch-to-the-stomach reminder from our dear German friend this Monday morning.  It came from a lecture he gave at Garrett Theological Seminary, to which you can listen in its entirety here:

Christian hope does not promise successful days to the rich and the strong, but resurrection and life to those who must exist in the shadows of death.  Success is no name of God. Righteousness is.”

 

We’ll just let that sit on our shoulders for the afternoon, shall we?