The Lord, The Blues, and the Art of Being Smooth

My favorite metaphysical image from Leaper by Geoffrey Wood

Matt Moore's Tear me down provided a sound track to my prayer

Matthew 25:40 - “The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’”

These words provided the basis for Mother Teresa to see Jesus in the distressing disguise of all those around her. She gave each individual her complete attention as though adoring her saviour.

This thought has combined with another to truly distress me this week. I have written before about how Ed Stetzer spoke at district council and God spoke to me in his words. He convicted me of my distaste for working class culture, my pride and prejudice. For what ever reason, God has placed me in a village of people who worked in factories, and convenience stores and farms, who shop at wallmart and use questionable grammar. I am not in Ann Arbor or Northfield. I am not an Episcopalian or an academic, though my mind and preferences might be at home there. I truly love those He has given me charge over. But can I love their culture? Can I minister effectively with in it? Or do I try to make them enlightened espresso drinking conteplatves?

Enter Mother Teresa. Her unflinching acceptance of the poor of a culture not her own strikes me. Can I? Can I abandon my self, pride, and preference to love Christ in those around me?

I prayed this after noon for that kind of love. I have never been so over come with such unpleasant emotion before, not as an adult any way. I wailed in desperation, I felt nauseous. It was like a child at the end of a tantrum who can no longer cry properly, red-faced, choking and gaging on their tears. If anyone had come into the church then, they would have thought something was not right with me and they would have been right. I’m not sure what it was. Was it my being torn down? Was it a war with some spirit who would have kept me down? Was it the burden for the people? It strikes me now as I write, the cries of agony and the physical pain and nausea were perhaps like Jesus would have felt - in the garden - looking over Jerusalem - on the cross when he said, “I thirst.” It was an utter desperation.

Oh God my I truly see only you in the faces of my village. May I see only you in the distressing disguise of the working poor. May I see only you in walmart. See only your thirsting lips in place of the profane and ungrammatical. Change me, and break me!

At first thought one might place Mother Teresa in the Social Justice stream of Christianity. As I think on her life though, I see a mix of influences, Holiness and Contemplative, but the most predominate being the Incarnational life.

“The Incarnational Stream of Christian life and faith,” says Foster, “focuses upon making present and visible the realm of the invisible spirit. This sacramental way of living addresses the crying need to experience God as truly manifest and notoriously active in daily life” (237).

In his appendix, Foster lists Mother Teresa as an example of Social Justice, but I find her actions more directed toward making the love of God manifest to the poor, making His Kingdom felt, than addressing the underlying causes of injustice. She made this sacramental way of life an entry point to the life of the Spirit and experienced it hand in hand with the contemplative life, calling her sisters “Contemplatives in the wold,” all the while demanding a high standard of holiness, determined to offer saints to Jesus.

Mother Teresa seemed always to hear Jesus calling her beyond herself. From her “second vocation to the poor,” to her abandoning her preferences and comforts to become a world media figure she was growing and stretching always. In her later years she perhaps took so hard a line on holiness she may have bordered on legalism were in not for her persistent love.

Mother Teresa would readily recognize the grace of God in her life from an early age. As young Agnes Bojaxhiu, daughter of Drana, grew up, her mother was a constant source of Formation for her. “At least once a week Drana would visit an old woman who had been abandoned by her family, to take her food an clean her house. She washed and fed and cared for File, an alcoholic woman covered with sores as if she was a small child” (Spink 7). Agnes accompanying her mother to visit File would create a powerful model for her as she later ministered to the poorest of the poor, lonely and forgotten. Her visits to the shrine of the Madonna of Letnice as a child would provide a conteplative basis for her life. She would identify herself always with the contemplative Thérèsa of Lisieux.

She was completely grounded in the institutional Catholic Church, first receiving formation in the Loreto order then creating the Missionaries of Charity as a Catholic Order. She was completely devoted to Catholic orthodoxy and the Pope, yet she ministered to, and cooperated with people from every creed.

Teresa always saw the political workings as the hand of God. She did not get involved in politics except to call for peace and love, trusting the leaders to do their duty in the end. She saw the crumbling of Communism as an opening door to spread tender love to the poor in those lands. Her ministry was not restricted to those who agreed with her, even staunch atheists would cooperate with her in Cuba, the Soviet, and other places.

In a wold of growing affluence and separation from the poor, her ministry to the poorest of the poor as though each one was Jesus in “distressing disguise” was and remains a prophetic word. She did much to proclaim the kingdom of God without preaching or giving an “altar call.”

Is there a difference between a saint and an ordinary person with an extraordinary desire and willingness to serve God? Mother Teresa was in her energy and determination a human dynamo, perhaps an extraordinary human power, but her formation in the selfless way of Christ, her consistent treatment of each individual as Christ in disguise shows her to be a saint. We are all called to such saintliness.

Elaine Martin is another such saint. Her faithfulness and fruit show her devotion to God. Her life of service to people shines as an example of the compassionate life. She grew up in a Lutheran home and appreciated her mother’s efforts to instill in her a spirituality.

It wasn’t until she went through a divorce that she began seeking a deeper relationship with God. Through a divorce support group at a church she found the depths she sought, along with the in-filling of the Spirit. The loneliness of the single life, the pain of divorce and concern for her family has been a challenge for her. She moved back to the Sebewaing area to be with her father before he died, caring for him, and praying him to Christ.

Over the years she has felt God call her to “come along side” individuals needing care and support. She has been a live in aide for many people. As a single woman she is surprised by the way God works, over recent years the people she has been directed to have been men. Sometimes her supportive relationships have raised eyebrows but she has remained faithful to do what God has called her to do.

She is a free spirit, at home anywhere with God. She goes where ever the Spirit directs her, so no one church has had a claim on her, though she lists many that have had a strong impact on her spiritually.

She is a prayer warrior and offers her devotion to God along with the person she is serving. She often makes use of the daily scriptures from the Book of Common Prayer we print in our bulletin, reading and praying with her neighbor each day. She is in her seventies and her neighbor, who she is serving is in his eighties. She remains vigorous and her service and support have been meaningful to me as her pastor.

Mother Teresa also challenges me. The service of the poorest of the poor, not just as though they were Christ, but actually seeing the suffering Christ in them, is a thought is forming and shaping me. I am wrestling lately with how meet the needs of the blue collar culture I am in. Mother Teresa challenges me to love them, though I gravitate to the intellectual and liberal postmodern crowd, she challenges me to see Christ wearing the blue collar garb of the workers in Sebewaing. Lord help me find ways to serve like Elaine and make of me a saint in the mold of Mother, with eyes only for you.

Several months ago I was wrestling with the idea that Jesus could be found in the hurting around me when I wrote:

Now as I encounter Mother Teresa's conviction that we find Jesus in "Distressing disguise" around us, I rejoice in confirmation of the idea. It isn't some wild fantasy I was entertaining when I asked "could it be?" but rather a truth revealed to saints through the ages - a truth I have come to embrace and is shaping me.

Foster himself places St. Francis squarely in the Charismatic stream, citing him as a prime historical example. “I commend Francis of Assisi to you as a model of charismatic jubilee” (106). Jubilee sums up the beautiful sense of joy found in St. Francis. From Le Jongleur de Dieu to whimsical songs to brother Sun and moon, to his own child like wonder and perpetually simple faith, joy filled the Franciscan spirit. It was also jubilee in the sense of the freedom. The emancipation from the dark ages, and the freedom granted in supernatural works. His was a strange mix of celebration and asceticism -- they found their home together in his constant practice of simplicity. Simplicity as Foster notes brings freedom and joy.

From the horrors of war, a year of captivity and a year of convalescence stirred and transformed something deep within Francis. His family and friends may well have seen it as a break with reality, for he through off the imposed reality of this world with the clothes off his back and began a quest to enter fully into the reality of the Kingdom of God. Foster notes his longing for transformation, quoting his poem to the virtues:

Francis was gregarious and influenced by the wandering troubadours and jugglers who entertained from town to town. Even as a young man and a soldier, Chesterton notes, “Francis was one of those people who are popular with everybody in any case; and his guileless swagger as a Troubadour and leader of French fashions made him a sort of romantic ringleader around town” (41). That is his transformation wasn’t in his character as much as in whom he served. As he through himself into the service of God with characteristic abandon, he traded French fashions for a hair shirt, but he remained a ringleader, romantic toward God and His creation, and a Jongleur de Dieu.

With beauty Chesterton describes the time and world of Francis. The world was emerging from the dark ages, a time of penance and purging from pagan naturalism. St. Francis emerged into a world that was clean and ready to receive his songs of praise for creation and her Creator. His joyful asceticism was a release from the harsh practices of the previous age. H e renounced the emerging wealth of the renaissance with an adventurous and generous spirit. He fought in the crusades not with an army, but alone with God, hoping to convert the radical Islamists. On his return he found even his own movement too tame, beginning to own property, albeit in common.

Francis is also an example of the incarnational life. He valued the material world and the ways he could see God in the world around him. As my friend Ken notes, Francis saw the wonder and miracle in the world around him. Is it any wonder then that the miraculous followed him? Francis seemed to see the world through spiritual eyes. He could identify the wonders and miracles in the world around, he could see creation as brother and sister. In his simplicity and holy foolishness, he saw the reality of the Kingdom around him. In his mind there may not have been much dividing the natural from the supernatural. His life was the adventure of the true Kingdom invading the world of men, so he had to live according to the values of that Kingdom come what may.

This week we were on our own mendicant adventure with a Franciscan flavor, trusting God for our every need. We went to our District Council without any money to rely on. There in the midst of God’s wonderful provision for us, I found great joy celebrating the lives of saints who had persevered in ministry. Allow me to submit one such saint as a further example of the Charismatic stream, Thomas E. Trask.

Tom Trask celebrated his fiftieth year as an ordained minister this week. Until last summer he served as General Superintendent for the Assemblies of God in the United States. He is a consummate preacher, though not using the method of expository preaching I value most. His preaching relies entirely on the anointing of the Spirit. Prayer and a spiritual reading of the text is important to him as he prepares.

He lived the adventure of ministry that my family is enjoying now. He planted a church in Northern Minnesota in 1956. He made no money as the church’s pastor, so he had to work. His father, also a minister in Minnesota, told him to get a job that was simple enough that he could do while still focussing on God - on his call.

He began to work for a Jewish businessman, W.R. Feldman. After struggling through months of slim income, Fledman approached Trask. “I’ll pay for your management training, if you come back to work for me,” he said, offering a large salary.

Trask said he would pray about it. Fledman was incredulous, “Pray about what? I know what they’re paying you!”
Trask responded, “The church is not my boss, God is my boss.” After praying Trask felt he had no option but to turn Feldman down, believing that he had been “bought with a price.”

Complete trust in God for his financial security combined with a discipline of giving, giving him experiences like St. Francis. One thanksgiving he had no food for his family. He didn’t have money for groceries, but in desperation he got in to his car to head to the store. As he was pulling out a man in a pickup truck pulled in behind him.
“Are you that pastor, Trask?” He asked. When Trask said yes, he said, “I have something you will need for tomorrow.” He proceeded to take two bags of groceries out of the back of his truck. Trask never saw the man before or since, convinced that angels sometimes dive pickups.

Giving continues to be an important discipline for him. As he rose in the ranks of the church and made more money, he increased his giving, until last year he was able to give away %70 of his income. Though he can also strangely value nice cars and manicured lawns as evidence of God’s provision to those around us.

Early in his ministry an older minister told him, “Tom, ask God to put you on a schedule and keep that schedule.” Rising early to engage in disciplines of prayer and study became important for him through out his life, as did “creating a family altar.” He recalled as a child his parents gathering the family before school and praying, “God keep Tom, keep Roy, Keep Patty.” Such times of prayer and worship with his family were important disciplines for him.

Looking back on his 52 years of ministry, Trask says, “Enjoy the adventure, because it was meant to be enjoyed.”

The faithfulness of Saint Francis and saint Trask in the adventure of the kingdom is a great inspiration to me. Like Francis this week I have been challenged to give and entirely trust in God for my family’s provision. It has been wonderful to see him work in us. Dropping the last of our money in the offering plate and then seeing God replenish that amount or give even more for us to give has been hilarious and wonderful. I can appreciate the joy of Francis as he danced naked through the forest, free from possessions but rich in God.

As Elaine and I were Ordained this year, the example of those who have gone before has been powerful as well. I appreciate Tom Trask’s example of faithfulness and demonstration of how this heroic trust and that we can actually make it through the adventure. After we were ordained, and hands laid on us symbolically passing the anointing, Tom Trask kissed my cheek. I accept from the Spirit Trask’s blessing.

Tolstoy penned these words when weighing the causes of the Napolianic wars. In War and Peace he asserts that there was an inevitability to the mechanism of war, it was in the breast of the masses and not concentrated in those deemed leaders.

The most important aspects Holt brings out in his treatment of modern Church history in his book Thirsty for God is the movement of the people in pietism. Between the days of reformation and enlightenment there was a resurgence of personal piety. This apparently resonated with Holt. Many of the spiritualities he explores are expressions of personal piety and devotion. This is evident in the modern resurgence of centering prayer and contemplation, a renewed interest in Spiritual Disciplines, even devotion to Mary.


It is the power of personal piety that led the way for doctrinal changes in the church. How much was Luther, Zwingli, Huss and other reformers indebted to their personal piety and the popular piety of the cultures that produced them?

To me this reinforces the idea that if we want to impact church history in the future, the place for us to turn is to the fire of our own personal devotion. If we want revival we must turn our own lives resolutely and fearlessly to God!