My Heart is a Raging Volcano of Love for You

By Kevin G. Thew Forrester

What if liturgy and prayer reflected at-one-ment rather than redemptive violence? Love rather than retribution? Embrace rather than condemnation? Forgiveness rather than judgment?

My Heart Is a Raging Volcano of Love for You reflects my experience of liturgy and ministry as being of a single compassionate whole. The liturgical life of the church is the deep well from which ministry draws its divine vitality.

From the divine well flows the grace to freely serve. Otherwise baptismal ministry quickly devolves to egoic attempts to save the lost world.

I believe that a challenge before us as Christians is that we live in a time of much cultural change and fear. The predominant mythic-literal ways of understanding ourselves, God, and church are in transition.

As created beings, change and evolution are part and parcel to our life as creatures of God’s creation. And yet, it is also true that the break of the 21st century seems to have ushered us into a teeming flow of accelerated changes.

As the church in worship of God, engaged in baptismal ministry, we cannot help but be affected by the cultural whirlwind. However, perhaps we may perceive within the shifting winds a divine invitation to revitalize and reform our tradition.

The eucharistic liturgy of baptism especially celebrates the Living Font from which flows our Trinitarian call as Christians to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to love our neighbors as ourselves, to strive for justice and peace among all people, and to respect the dignity of every human being – divine invitations of life that flow from the one Holy Source.

In the book, My Heart Is a Raging Volcano of Love for You, I explore how meaningful and authentic baptismal ministry cannot take place apart from liturgical renewal. The images of God and Christ and church and world and self inexorably shape our sense of dignity, our notion of justice, and our image of neighbor. How we celebrate in our worship greatly determines how we serve.

To paraphrase ancient wisdom – lex orandi, lex vivendi. This pithy affirmation points out that the church has traditionally recognized that worship and life are inextricably connected, one reinforcing the other; for better or worse.

In this second volume of my At-One-Ment series I develop new forms of prayer and liturgy that draw upon our ancient catholic tradition in dialogue with our contemporary, postmodern, cultural context. These prayers reflect what I describe as an integral sacramental experience and vision of life, which invite us beyond both the individualism of modernity and the fragmentation of postmodernity.

We need to realize that the liturgy at its heart is a shout, a song, a whisper, a plea, a thanksgiving, of love. We long to be united with the Beloved who ceaselessly gives us birth and calls us home. We cast about for words that might begin to express the cry of our soul to receive the divine kiss whose moisture gives us life.

My Heart Is a Raging Volcano of Love for You is an invitation to transcend the destructive redemptive violence of conventional atonement spirituality enshrined in prayer, liturgy and hymnody. Through conversation with mystics of both east and west, I invite the church to creatively express itself in prayers and liturgies flowing from our gracious at-one-ment with God, the Font from which flows all life.

Here are collects for Years A,B,C. Here are new liturgies for Great Three Days. Here is new expression of baptismal living reflective of ancient tradition, postmodern science, and our interfaith world. Here are prayers of a progressive Christianity with ancient roots.

* The Rev. Kevin G. Thew Forrester, Ph.D., has served in the Diocese of Northern Michigan for the past ten years. He is the author of Leadership and Ministry within a Community of Equals (InterCultural Ministry Development, 1997) and I Have Called You Friends (Church Publishing, 2003).

Tucson and the myth of redemptive violence

by Carol Bradsen

I write to you from Tucson. Many are in shock and mourning. Flowers and notes are piled outside of the hospital where our congresswoman and several others still need healing and our prayers. Thousands have packed into synagogues and churches over the last few days to find solace. To hear that we are not alone. To attempt to make meaning out of this madness.

Meanwhile, across the nation some are saying this act of violence means we must change our gun laws and tweak our political dialogue. Perhaps. But we fool ourselves if we think this is the answer. Guns and tongues are not the root. We need to go deeper.

Tucson is a flashpoint for our times. The loneliness, fear, anger, violence, and misplaced hope that seemed to have spurred the shooter are buried everywhere. In communities. In government policies. Even our own hearts to some degree, if we have the courage to be honest.

Something is clearly broken. Something needs to change.

If we really wanted to get at the root of things, we’ll need to do something much harder than changing some laws and being nicer; we’ll need to discard redemptive violence.

For far too long we have put our collective hope as a nation in the myth of redemptive violence. Redemptive violence is the idea that good, that peace, that healing and reconciliation can come from violence. If we want to see a different future, we will need to loosen our grasp and untangle ourselves from this deeply rooted lie. And it will not be easy.

“But I would never shoot anyone,” you say. “Jared Loughner acted alone. And he seems mentally ill.” “What does redemptive violence have to do with me? With him?”

Redemptive violence is systemic. It is in the air we breathe. And it will shape us if we do not have a clear vision of our true, God-given nature.

Redemptive violence is a spirit that has woven its way into the very fabric of our nation’s life and cultures. Our wars, weapons, military conflicts, execution chairs, gun laws, even many popular movies, are evidence that we as a nation have bought the lie that good can come from killing.

And this unchallenged, and very old belief, is killing us.

Jesus did not provide an easy path to follow. But he did show us another way. A life-giving vision of domination-free community that is just as radical and needed as in his day of Empire. He said to love our enemies. He had a special fondness for those discarded by the powerful. He said our allegiance was to be to God and to God’s way of love. He said to put the weapons away.

Within this new beloved community of God, the dignity of every human being is respected. We have not done a good job of this in Arizona. Many here call other humans “aliens” and “illegal.” It has been reported that a note found in the alleged shooter’s home said, “Die Bitch.” It is easier to dominate, and eventually, eliminate, another if you think they are not quite human. It is anticipated that the alleged shooter, if found guilty will be given the death penalty and eventually killed by the state of Arizona. Where will the violence end?

Are we brave enough to say, “Stop this.” Can we disentangle ourselves, our livelihoods, our language, and even parts of our liturgy from domination, war, and redemptive violence? It may leave us vulnerable. And in some places, we will be seen as un-American.

Are we creative enough to create spaces in our community where we love across our differences to share a meal, stop an injustice, build a home, really listen to one another, and lament instead of plan retaliation? It may leave us uncomfortable.

Are we faithful enough to live counter-cultural lives when the gospel demands it? Are we willing to let go of all violence once and for all as an option, even if it seems “just” or “needed.” It may leave us unpopular.

But this is the path of life. And joy. And hope. And God knows we need it.

The African-American theologian, Howard Thurman once wrote that God’s way will create, “a friendly world of friendly folk beneath a friendly sky.”

May it be so. And may Christians and the church have the courage to really live into this vision and bring it to reality, with God’s help.

* Carol Bradsen, MDiv '05 is a cofounder of the Restoration Project community in Tucson, Arizona, an ecumenical community dedicated to hospitality, playful spirituality, simple and sustainable living, and peaceful, prophetic action. (http://restorationproject340.wordpress.com)