Back somewhere in the archives of this blog, I posted a paper reacting to a Robert Wuthnow book. Wuthnow is (the second half of the title was ‘Spirituality in America Since the 1950s) a Religious Studies professor from Yale. Wuthnow’s main contention seemed to be that spiritual life in this country broke down into those with ‘dwelling’ and ‘seeking’ ways of conceptualizing relation to God or the Other (if you like). In brief, dwelling was stable, familiar, and generational; seeking is transient, fluid, and in search of a spiritual high. He went on to say that the seekers wanted stability and familiarity, and some dwellers felt their spirituality was stale, or focused on preserving a social order they knew. Fairly ticked off about the lack of depth in pretty much everyone profiled in the book, (either Wuthnow’s fault, or the people) I sought to defend what I understood as the gospel. I called it in part, “A Spirituality of Dwelling in the Incarnation.” We need stability, we need to stop wandering. But what keeps our dwelling from being dull, lifeless, or misdirected? I think I found the answer: God with us. That is what the Incarnation teaches us. God isn’t out there somewhere; he was and is right here. I was just beginning to understand the brilliance of this. So, whether we rest or we journey, we are God’s. We need not fear. America and baseball could pass away (may it never be! Ha ha) and I’m just fine. May I believe this!
I once had a friend, a dear friend, who helped me with personal care needs in college. Reformed Presbyterian to the core. When I was a Reformed Presbyterian, I visited their church many times. We were close. I still consider his siblings my friends. (And siblings in the Lord.) Nevertheless, when I began to consider the claims of the Catholic Church to be the Church Christ founded, he took me out to breakfast. He implied--but never quite stated--that we would not be brothers, if I sought full communion with the Catholic Church. That came true; a couple years later, I called him on his birthday, as I'd done every year for close to ten of them. He didn't recognize my number, and it was the most strained, awkward phone call I have ever had. We haven't spoken since. We were close enough that I attended the rehearsal dinner for his wedding. His wife's uncle is a Catholic priest. I remember reading a blog post of theirs, that early in their relationship, she told him of the p
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