FAITH HOUSE Manhattan

A Book Review: A Puzzle, But the Pieces Fit

~ by Melody Tan

Nathan Brown is a writer and editor, based just out of Melbourne, Australia. He has written for a wide variety of publications in Australia and around the world, and is a regular contributor to the Faith House website.

Nemesis Train could simply have been a notebook filled with the journey of the author’s ponderings and explorations of various people’s lives. But what makes it a compelling read is the fact that the reader not only joins the ride as a mere commuter, but becomes a participant in a very real way as well.

This is not a book in the old-fashioned sense of the word, as chapters often appear unstructured and the flow of the book will take most readers by surprise. However, like Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller, readers of Nemesis Train will find themselves unwittingly and inexplicably drawn into a story that makes them want to find out more, if only to discover how all the characters fit into the story.

Nemesis Train provokes thought and, more often, encourages the reader to ask questions rather than provides any real answers. Brown chooses to dwell deep in the thought processes of the characters, paying a lot of attention to their state of mind and what spurs them to do what they do.

Brown has a real talent in seeing details that may have been missed by most writers, and certainly by people going about their normal everyday life. Because he takes the time to pause and study the surroundings, he succeeds in painting a clear and real picture in the mind’s eye. The reader is drawn into the world that Brown has created and becomes a part of the book. The interesting, and sometimes quirky descriptions are also often unique and unexpected.

There is often an overarching sense of loss and loneliness present in the book, a sense that life may be a waste of time without any real meaning. However, there are also rare glimpses of wry humor and, through the character Jed Hill, the reader sees hope.

A book that makes a strong statement against war and the detrimental impact it has on war veterans and perhaps the world in general, it also offers grace and understanding to all those involved. But perhaps, it also offers these gifts to everybody, encouraging patience and kindness to those we come in contact with.

And what makes Nemesis Train a rare treasure is the fact that the surprise ending not only helps everything fall into place for the reader, it makes you want to go back to the platform and board the train all over again with your newfound piece of puzzle.

To learn more about Nathan Brown and Nemesis Train, click HERE.

Becoming a Modern, Urban, Mystic

~ by Bowie Snodgrass

I bought my copy of Mark Scandrette’s Soul Graffiti: Making a Life in the Way of Jesus (Jossesy-Bass, 2007) on August 1, 2008.  That date and “Church Basement Roadshow” are scribbled on the front page of the book; underneath it says, "Finished March 2, 2009".  This is book I read slowly and savored for seven months, as I settled into a new apartment in Harlem, a new ministry with Faith House Manhattan, the arc of a historic election, and the maturation of my still-new marriage.

Mark opens up his journey to us and in doing so invites us to delve deeper into our own.  Much of the best of this book shares stories of people (and characters!) Mark has met through his life, ministry, and “experiments.”  The author’s straight-through, authentic, probing,compassionate voice was what kept me coming back.  For the forum of this blog, I’ve selected seven little segments that I underlined over the course of the last seven months to share… pebbles on the path to becoming a modern, urban, mystic.

1… there is more than a little irony in the fact that we sat passively in a regal sanctuary listening to messages based on the adventures of a homeless bearded prophet who wandered the cities and countryside caring for the poor and healing the sick and inviting people to follow his example.  How exactly were we seeking his kingdom by gathering like this?  For me these environments functioned like museums displaying spiritual realities as exotic specimens in a cabinet of curiosities… The context conveyed more about the dogmas of tradition and region than the revolutionary life of the master.  (Page 25)

2 Pilgrims always have a lot to talk about.  There are stories to tell, advice to exchange, and plans to make about the best way to reach the next vista.  Revolutions are often planned in cafes and begin with talks among friends.  Great social and spiritual movements germinate when a few isolated people find one other, share deeply, and dream out loud about a different and better future.  Through generative friendship a collective voice becomes stronger, and what was once timidly whispered in private emerges to become the topic of public discourse and reform.  Dialogue creates resonance that fosters grass-roots energy and initiative.  Conversation at its best is never just talk; it is the means by which we kindle imagination and gain the courage to take action together.  (Page 47)

3 … a quest for continuity: between what we have been taught about God and what we may have yet to learn; and between what we say we believe and how we actually live.  By examining our windows to God and by learning to embrace all of life as a gift and sacred trust, we take steps to navigate making a life in the Way of Jesus. (Page 103)

4 Jesus was a mystic in the sense that he lived in conscious awareness of the transcendent reality of God.  Everything we admire about the life of Jesus – his compassion, wise teaching, mighty acts, and sacrifice – were funded by the private disciplines of his inner life – how he learned to be tuned into the presence and power of God’s song. He demonstrated that the transforming power of God’s kingdom is accessed through receptivity, mindful surrender, study simplicity, silence, and solitude.  Through the example of his life, we are invited to follow the path of a mystic.  (Page 207)

5 My good friend Darren Prince, who is part of an urban order among the poor, is fond of saying, “The spiritual life is more about subtraction than addition. Most of us don’t need anything more added to our lives to be fulfilled. It is more likely that what we really need is to subtract from our schedules and possessions to have more space for God and people.” The quest for simplicity and contentment, rather than being legislated by rules, can be guided by a question: “How can I manage my life to be the most free to hear the voice of love?” You will find the best rhythm of simplicity through careful experimentation. (Page 215)

6 “Mark, my impression is that you are more Buddhist than Christian.” “What do you mean?”  I asked. “Well, your spirituality seems so much about awareness and practice – embracing all of life as sacred.  Those aren’t things I associate with Christianity.” (Page 237)

7 I want to experience the goodness that money cannot buy, resisting internal and external forces that pressure me toward greater security, control, and conformity.  I will remember that life is ultimately about risk and adventure and that we die a certain death when we resign ourselves to propriety and convention.  I will affirm, perhaps only in symbolic gesture, the spirit of the wandering Messiah-prophet, spreading the propaganda of hope, like soul graffiti, on the canvas of Earth and eternity.  (Page 245)

Current Trends In Interfaith Life

~  by Sylvia Hordosch who lives in Manhattan and works for the United Nations on gender issues. She is a feminist Christian and cannot hide her impatience with sexist language in society at large and in her faith community. As a native of Austria, she misses Vienna's coffee houses.

The adventure of people of different faith communities coming together seems to attract more and more interest. Just within the last month, two Christian magazines published articles on interfaith issues. Christian Century (August 26, 2008) had a cover piece Seattle’s 3 Amigos: A Muslim, a Christian and a Jew in Ministry Together, and Sojourners (September-October 2008) wrote about theological seminaries teaching for a multifaith world in an article titled Many Mansions. Christian Century refers to Faith House as an example of a new kind of interfaith initiative organized by people who are keen to move beyond academic discussions to joint activities and celebrations.

Both articles argued for the need of a better understanding of interfaith issues in an increasingly interconnected world – and within their own families.  In both pieces, the focus was on the three Abrahamic traditions – Judaism, Christianity and Islam, perhaps because that’s the mostly obviously wounded place to begin. Christian Century described the collaborative efforts between a Rabbi in the Reform tradition, a Pastor of the University Congregational Church and a Sufi Muslim teacher in Seattle. In formal and informal meetings, the three congregations have come closer together – not by sharing the lowest common denominator, but by celebrating together in each other's houses of worship and working together on common projects. While they remain within their separate and distinct religious identities, they acknowledge “other faiths as legitimate paths to a shared universal.”

Sojourners’ article focused on a number of theological seminaries involved in interfaith activities, including Auburn Theological Seminary, The New Seminary (both in New York), Fuller Theological Seminary, Hebrew College and Andover Newton Theological School. Hebrew College and Andover even share a piece of property on their Massachusetts campus in addition to offering joint courses. Almost all experts cited in the piece are closely linked to the work of Faith House as advisors or endorsers.

While Jewish-Christian dialogue has a longer tradition than other interfaith dialogues, and both magazines seem to focus on Jewish-Christian issues, more efforts are being directed to include Muslims in interfaith discussions. In addition to learning about different ways to struggle with religious questions, the current trend of interfaith initiatives includes hands on experience in joint projects and activities. Though, there is recognition that it is often easier for believers to communicate with progressive minds of different faiths, rather than with members of their own traditions.

Noticably, the Christian Century and Sojourners articles share a focus on men’s activities in interfaith activities – the same way that United Nations events, where I work, seem to include mostly male speakers. In the highly recommended book, The Faith Club: A Muslim, a Christian, a Jew – Three Women Search for Understanding, women bring fresh new voices to the debate. Ranya Idliby, Suzanne Oliver and Priscilla Warner share their soul-searching project of understanding their different faiths – as well as prejudices and biases.  In their different voices, the co-authors describe how they struggled to learn about each others' religion, lived through individual crises of faith and expanded their understanding of God.

And three women, Jill, Bowie, and Rabia are on their way to put Faith House on the map in New York City!

From a Novel "Life of Pi"

~ by Samir Selmanovic

I have been reading Life of Pi, a novel by Yann Martel that deserves all the praise it has been getting since it came out in 2001. I could not resist sharing this passage with you, even at the risk of doing so without checking whether I need a permission from the publisher. 

Main character, boy named Piscine Patel, grew up with his non-religious and pragmatic parents in India. Without their knowledge he developed a relationship with the local spiritual leaders and became a Christian, a Muslim, and a Hindu. The problem was that the priest, the imam, and the pandit did not know about the other two. Until Piscine's father invited all three of them for a meeting in Patel home (p. 66):

    My parents, the priest and the pandit looked incredulous.
    The pandit spoke. “You’re both wrong. He’s a good Hindu boy. I see him all the time at the temple coming for darshan and performing puja.”
    My parents, the imam and the priest looked astounded.
    “There is no mistake,” said the priest. “I know this boy. He is Piscine Molitor Patel and he’s a Christian.”
    “I know him too, and I tell you he’s a Muslim,” asserted the imam.
    “Nonsense!” cried the pandit. “Piscine was born  a Hindu, lives a Hindu and will die a Hindu!”
    The three wise men stared at each other, breathless and disbelieving.
    Lord, avert their eyes from me, I whispered in my soul.
    All eyes fell upon me.
    “Piscine, can this be true?” asked the imam earnestly. “Hindus and Christians are idolaters. They have many gods.”
    “And Muslims have many wives,” responded the pandit.
    The priest looked askance at both of them. “Piscine,” he nearly whispered, “there is salvation only in Jesus.”
    “Balderdash! Christians know nothing about religion,” said the pandit.
    “They strayed long ago from God’s path,” said the imam.
    “Where’s God in your religion?” snapped the priest. “You don’t have a single miracle to show for it. What kind of religion is that, without miracles?”
    “It isn’t a circus with dead people jumping out of tombs all the time, that’s what! We Muslims stick to the essential miracle of existence. Birds flying, rain falling, crops growing—these are miracles enough for us.”
    “Feathers and rain are all very nice, but we like to know that God is truly with us.”

Book Review: Falling Man

~ by Nathan Brown, author, Editor (Signs of the Times, Australia / New Zealand)

It seems Don DeLillo was always going to write a novel around the September 11 terrorist attacks. The elements of terrorism, faith, New York City and humanity at the extremes have been recurring themes through his 14 novels and 35-plus years as one of America’s most profound novelists. His new novel, Falling Man, is the book that brings them together.

The events of September 11, 2001, are so much a part of our collective consciousness that DeLillo does not need to spend much time on the big picture. Instead, he focuses on just three people: Keith, an office worker in the World Trade Centre; Lianne, his estranged wife with whom he reunites in the aftermath of the tragedy; and Hammad, one of the 9-11 hijackers whose three brief but haunting appearances punctuate the novel.

Of course, it is in the lives of individual such as these—individuals such as us—that the real issues of terror and faith, tragedy and hope, sorrow and love are played out. Any or all of us who have lost sleep wrestling with the realities of fear and death, the possibilities and impossibilities of God, the question of hope amid the despair of the world knows the human experience DeLillo invokes. And this is the real drama of DeLillo’s story.

Even DeLillo’s sketch of Hammad the hijacker is not as certain as such an outrageous act suggests. Hammad never quite expects the hijacking will take place, always expecting the plot will be foiled before it can be put into action. And as the hijacked plane hurtles toward the New York skyline, he buckles his seatbelt, even as he repeats to himself the assurances of his faith.

By contrast, three years after escaping the collapsing towers, Keith gambles away his days on the poker tournament circuit, perhaps prisoner to the seemingly random “luck” that saw him escape the towers while colleagues and friends did not get such a chance.

But it is Lianne who is the fraught soul of DeLillo’s novel. “There was religion, then there was God. Lianne wanted to disbelieve. Disbelief was the line of travel that led to clarity of thought and purpose. Or was this simply another form of superstition? . . . She was free to think and believe and doubt simultaneously. But she didn’t want to. God would crowd her, make her weaker. God would be a presence that remained unimaginable. She wanted this only, to snuff out the pulse of the shaky faith she’d held for much of her life.”

But Lianne find this impossible to do. In the last act of DeLillo’s novel, set three years after the attacks, she retains her resistance of paradox: “God would consume her. God would de-create her and she was too small and tame to resist. That’s why she was resisting now. Because think about it. Because once you believe such a thing, God is, then how can you escape, how survive the power of it, is and was and ever shall be.”

While people around her are reading the Koran, Lianne finds herself a regular attender at a nearby church—not a participant, but an atendder—who begins to feel a connectedness with the other regulars. “Isn’t it the world that brings you to God?” she reflects while sitting in the near-empty church. “Beauty, grief terror, the empty desert, the Bach cantatas. Others bring you closer, church brings you closer, the stained glass windows of a church, the pigments inherent in the glass, the metallic oxides fused into the glass, God in clay and stone, or was she babbling to herself to pass the time?”

Whatever else it might be, Falling Man offers a portrait of contemporary faith, lived in a world of mass media, terrorism, urban lifestyle and private worlds. It is a psychological novel in which the questions of faith do not resolve neatly. We are caught between the fear that there might not be a God and the equal fear that there might be a God, either is terrifying and world-shaking. It takes faith to acknowledge and live in the tension between faith and doubt, when so much of life simultaneously urges us to God and repeatedly questions God’s existence and benevolence.

DeLillo describes the closest his character comes to resolution of this tension: “She thought that the hovering possible presence of God was the thing that created loneliness and doubt in the soul and she also thought that God was the thing, the entity existing outside space and time that resolved this doubt in the tonal power of a word, a voice. God is the voice that says, ‘I am not here.’”

And, as such, DeLillo’s novel ends at a sacred starting point.

(Thank you Nathan for this exclusively review.)