Category Archives: bible

Quotations of scripture and commentary

Loss and spiritual experience

Recently in a blog I borrowed a line from one of Donovan’s songs from the ‘sixties (First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is.) and translated it into, “First there is a God, then there is no God, then there is.”    I was addressing the need to recognize that we learn a conceptual god early in our life, and must lose that god if we are to know God.  Someone has actually written a book about this subject, Anatheism:  Returning to God after God.

Richard Kearney delved into religion, philosophy, and literature to address the need of undergoing loss at some point in one’s spiritual development.  This loss, known in theology as kenosis (or self emptying) is articulated elegantly by Etty Hillesum, and quoted by Kearney:

One has to free oneself inwardly of everything, of all existing representations, of all slogans, of all comforts.  One has to have the courage to let go of everything of all standards and all conventional certainties.  One has to dare taking the giant leap…then life will be endlessly overflowing, even amidst the deepest suffering.

And Hillesum knew what she was talking about.  This was not an armchair hermeneutics exercise for her—she suffered persecution in Germany for being Jewish and eventually died in Auschwitz in 1942 at the age of 29.

T.S. Eliot wrote in The Four Quartets that we must be willing to “live in the breakage, in the collapse of what was believed in as most certain, and therefore the fittest for renunciation.”  The thing most certain for some—god—often needs to be discarded so that—God—might surface.

It is only in loss that we come to know our Source intimately.

prayer

I like to revel in the ethereal.  That is quite obvious.  But, I like to come down from the ether and dwell here on the earth again, anchoring my heart and soul with the tribal gods (or god) and their wisdom.

Thus, when I pray, I bring to the moment my perspective as God
as a Process, an Infinite Unfolding in a vast void.  I bring to the moment a mind steeped, not just in Christianity, but in the wisdom of world religion and philosophy.  But, in prayer I rein in my imagination and mind and humbly pray, “Our father which art in heaven….”

And today, the first thought in my mind was, “This is the day that the Lord hath made.  Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”    For, once again I am alive and will have a beautiful world to enjoy.  I will enjoy good coffee, good food, good wife, good doggies, good friends.  And for this plenty, I offer my gratitude, not to an ever-expanding universe part of which I am, but to “god.”

Saved vs. unsaved

Martin Buber, in his monumental work, I and Thou, eloquently describes human tendency to bifurcate reality into an “us-them” paradigm.  On our side are those who “believe right”, “act right”, and “vote right”.  In Christian circles it often appears in the form of a “saved-unsaved” paradigm.  We are so quick to define “saved” and do so in such a fashion that we are carefully ensconced in the “saved” category.  It is so rewarding to belong to the club.  But, we fail to understand that “the club” would not exist without the meaning provided by those who are excluded.  One could even say that the “unsaved” category is created and perpetuated by our insistence on maintaining the “saved” category.

Our need is that our faith be more inclusive, that the boundaries between “us” and “them” be more permeable.  And this will only occur when the individuals ensconced comfortably in the domain of  “us” be more open to the Spirit of God, to “mindfulness”,  and can relax those boundaries.  I believe there is a relationship between our ability to relax those boundaries and our ability to relax the boundary that exists between ourselves and God.

the enemy within

He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls. Prov. 25:28

He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city. Prov. 16:32.

Boundaries are an essential issue in human experience. If we don’t learn to set boundaries, and respect those set by others, we are going to be in trouble real soon. These two Proverbs describe it as “ruling your spirit.” We are ultimately merely bundles of impulses, energy if you please, and learning how to handle these impulses is essential to life.

“Taking a city”, in Proverbs 16:32, was perhaps the greatest example of power that one could exercise. The writer was noting that can one who can harness that internal energy is “better than the mighty” that can take a city. It was an image of masculine prowess.

Proverbs 25:28 emphasizes that this ruling of one’s spirit is essential in “keeping the enemy out.” He was saying that if you don’t rule your spirit, it is like the walls of a city breaking down, allowing “the enemy” to enter. Now in one spiritual tradition, Christianity, “the enemy” has been labeled Satan. To them, this verse means, “You don’t set boundaries, Satan is going to get in.”

I like to think of it in terms of energy. We are all the aforementioned “bundles of energy”, some of which is adaptive and some of which is maladaptive. I think “the enemy” is the maladaptive energy that we all have in the depths of our heart. Jung termed it the shadow.

Truth and the NAR

Truth is a dangerous commodity. I think it visits us on occasion as a momentary experience of Grace. But the experience is so profound, so intoxicating, so compelling that we have to own it and so we reduce it to the conceptual. And at that moment, it has become a true commodity and is immediately on the market.

Then there comes the human tendency to feel that he/she owns this “truth” and must convince others to see it and experience it the very same way. Thus comes the advent of conversion-oriented religions and non-sense like the New Apostolic Reformation movement of present-day. Movements like this consist of leaders who feel they have really seen the truth, not in the limited way that others have, and that they must bludgeon the world with it. And there are always millions of mindless lemmings who are willing to subscribe to ideology of this sort

I feel that truth is a process. It is something that we intuitive experience on occasion but it is never anything we own. At best, “we see through a glass darkly.”

And here is an interesting thought I just ran across on the net.  This is so important:

There is no truth that cannot be turned into a lie if you just take it seriously enough.  Anitra l. freeman

spiritual technocrats

A college history professor, teaching a class on American religion, once noted that in the frontier days the men who often got the “call to preach” were those who couldn’t do anything else.  They were the wastrels, the ne’er-do-wells, those who were floundering with their life when they suddenly realized, “Hey, I could start preaching and immediately I will have a job, and respect, and a place in the community.”  (I suspect that a neurological conflagration also played a part in many of those “calls”, especially those that appeared to be of the “got a wild hair up their backside” variety)

I think that so many of our clergy today are assembly-line, mass produced, machine-produced men and women.  They are spiritual technocrats, adept at trotting out a good sermon, propping up the congregation’s pretenses, flashing that Christian (or otherwise) ivory here and there, and going their merry way.  They are, as a friend of mine once wrote, “heroes of spiritual contraception who have long since despaired of rebirth.” (Charles “Chuck” Dewitt)

They have been enculturated into Christianity and thus are professional ministers, preachers, priests, rabbis, mullahs, or what have you.  But they have nothing to offer from beyond the pale for they’ve never been there themselves.   These “spiritual technocrats” reflect our culture which also has long-since “despaired of rebirth.”  Our culture’s only frame of reference is itself and that, as noted earlier last week, is mental illness.  These “technocrats” have never experienced the “Dark Night of the Soul” (St. John of the Cross) or “The Cloud of Unknowing” which would then empower them to offer a prophetic word.  They have never done their “time in the desert” like Jesus did.

Conrad Aiken once noted, “We see only the small bright circle of our consciousness beyond which lies the darkness.”  The clergy that I’m upbraiding here have never been outside of that “small bright circle”.  To do so would entail an encounter with intense anxiety and despair.  It is easier for them to stay within the cozy confines of this “circle,” thus mirroring the culture at large which has done the same, which has “made for ourselves a life safer than we can bear.”  (W. H. Auden)   This phenomena has been addressed in history and sociology as the church in “cultural captivity.”

Meditative prayer

I think it is important to pay attention to how we pray.  Often when we pray we are merely chattering, tossing words around, praying to some kindly old gentleman “up there”, possibly one who sits on a golden throne with a baby sheep under one arm and a thunderbolt under the other.  Our prayer is often of the “gimme, gimme, gimme” genre, reflecting a vision of God as sitting “up there” with a huge duffel bag full of goodies to toss our way.  But an essential dimension of prayer is to clear our minds, to rein them in, to focus—that is, to meditate.  Meditative prayer can help us find our center and from that center we can make better decisions about our day to day life.   We could even, then, say “The Spirit of God leads us in making better decisions.”

Our words speak volumes about us, including the words we use in prayer.   Our word selection and the nuances of our speech reveals where we are existentially and spiritually.   For example, our word selection in prayer can reveal the perception that He is “afar off”, that He is “out there” and that we are fundamentally estranged from Him.  It is this perception of estrangement that leads to the belief that our tone of voice, our volume, and our ardor will help influence Him in his responses.  We forget that though God is transcendent He is also immanent.  In the words of Jesus, “The kingdom is within.”

Wanta go to heaven?

In my conservative upbringing, I was taught that the story of Adam and Eve was about creation and “the fall.”  I was taught that when Adam succumbed to the temptation of Eve’s offering of the forbidden fruit (i.e., the apple), we as a species were plunged into sin, we had “fallen” into sin.

I now see that story as a myth and a very compelling and rich myth.  It is the story of how we did indeed fall from grace but only in the sense that it was the fall from a primordial unity with nature into the realm of consciousness—from raw, unmediated, instinctual experience into the realm of conscious, cognitive, rational reality.  And this event in our psychic development is very much related to the advent of language.  This event can be thought of as a fall from the pre-conscious into the realm of the verbal.  Even Aesychlus noted, circa 500 b.c. noted how that Zeus had “banished us thought-ward”.

Karl Jung taught that before the advent of language, the child dwells in a state of unity with his/her mother.  The mother’s world and that of her child are tightly intertwined until the process of differentation leads them to that radical juncture in the process of separation—language. (That world of unity is sometimes thought of and conceptualized as the ouroborus, symbolized by the snake eating its own tail.)  Furthermore, I have read of speculation that those children with speech impediments have been overly enmeshed with their mothers and have not formed clear and separate boundaries.

And, yes, “sin” is relevant to this situation.  Human experience is that of a sinner in that we sense on some level that we “come from out there” or at least somewhere else.  It is a sense of being separate from our source.  We are cut off from our source and cannot go back.  Our longing for heaven is the yearning for that Edenic state of one-ness with nature, primordial unity.  On some unconscious level we recall “heaven” where all was well with the world, nothing ever went wrong, all of our needs were met.  And, as conscious adults we subscribe to the belief that after death, we return to that wonderful state

Unaccomodated man/woman

When President Clinton was being impeached, he became famous for his splitting of one hair in particular.   In answer to a particular question, he responded with great deliberation, “Well, it depends on what the meaning of is, is.”  I intend to continue this vein of hair-splitting here regarding the same infinitive, “to be”.

I feel that the best we ever get from our various spiritual perambulations is “to be.”  We get our “is-ness”.   Now, I have always had a spiritual streak about me.  It was my endowment from my community and family.  The role I was to play was, anthropologically speaking, “a holy man”, some conservative Arkansas variation of a shaman.  However, in this particular little corner of the world, my title was “preacher”.   Writing now five decades later, I recognize that I wanted a whole lot more than mere “is-ness”.  I wanted an identity, I wanted a place in that little back-water village, I wanted respect, and I wanted a career.  And what this meant was that my brief ministry was, in the words of an evangelical preacher of the day, “a platform on which to display my carnal abilities.”  It was a “work of the flesh”, to borrow a concept from the New Testament.  It was all about me.

So there I illustrated a basic problem with spiritual aspirations—the ego. The ego is not satisfied with merely “be-ing”, it prefers to shine, to “strut and fret” its hour on the stage and have people admire its holiness, its piety—“Wind my up and watch me be pious!”  And though my spiritual ego has today a degree of subtlety about it….I want to say…I still find myself from time to time really proud of how pious I am, something akin to the Pharisee’s pride in how broad their phylactery was.  (See Matthew 23:5)

AND, that is ok.  For, at that moment, sometimes the wisdom of Thich Nhat Hanh comes to the fore and I practice his “half smile” and prayerfully breathe the word, “mindfulness.”  I then go on with my day to day life.  There is no need to beat myself up, no need to bemoan my spiritual immaturity, no need to flagellate myself with, “Oh what a rotten sinner I am.”  There is only the need to be “mindful” and to then continue to “chop wood, carry water.”  For, no matter how spiritually “refined” we might become…or think we have become…we are going to find a hefty dollop of ego always ready to manifest itself.  And that is always going to be present.  I have a suspicion that this is some part of what the Buddha had in mind when he attested that “mara” was always with him.  And Jesus was always beset by Satan and I’m sure that ego was one of the seductions that Satan had even then in his repertoire.

The goal is to glory in our mere be-ing, in our “is-ness”, in the fact that we exist, that we “are”.  To recognize and experience that we have been “thrown into being” by some force or presence (and I like to say Presence) far beyond the grasp of our feeble minds.  It is to recognize as did Einstein that at the depths of our existence we find merely a mystery, and incomprehensible mystery, that some of us choose to term “God”.

But it requires joining King Lear out on the heath, “unaccomodated”, naked, pelted by the same “pitiless storm”, bereft of our kingdom and family, shorn of the trappings of our egoic consciousness.  It is to experience our emptiness which came to us in the New Testament in the doctrine of “kenosis”, merely meaning, “the emptying of ourselves.”  It is to experience our solitude, our “Dark Night of the Soul”. (St. John of the Cross).

Now the nice thing about this is that it does not have to leave us so “unaccomodated.”  This spiritual process merely loosens the attachment to our “stuff”.  No longer does our “stuff” have us.  We have seen and experienced our true self and that will be the core of our identity, not the piling up of earthly treasures, or the acheivement of success, and certainly not the acheivement of “spiritual” success.  We know that essentially we have only our “is-ness”, we have it only for this brief sojourn in this parenthesis of time before we return to our Source.  And in the mean time, we can have and enjoy our “stuff” but hopefully with less obsession and with an increased proclivity to share some of it with others.

Several weeks ago I quoted Shakespeare’s 146th sonnet and I conclude with an excerpt:

Oh soul, the center of my sinful earth

Thrall to these rebel powers that thee array;

Why doeth thy pine within and suffer dearth,

Painting thy outward walls so costly gay.

(And he goes on to conclude with:)

Within be fed, without be rich no more.

Primordial grace

Grace is a wonderful concept.  I even love the look and the sound of the word in biblical greek—charis!   But grace preceded the Judeo-Christian era.  Several days I even quoted Aesyclus re “the awful grace of God” and Aesychlus lived some 500 years before Christ.  But grace was not new even then.  I believe grace much earlier had been a concept in the evolving human experience, first being articulated as imprecise grunts and squeaks millenia earlier when some man or woman, probably sitting around a campfire, experienced the Beneficense of the universe he/she lived in.   Only much later did this “verbal imprecision” become more elegantly conceptualized and expressed.  Remember that Revelations 13:8 describes Jesus as “the lamb slain before the foundation of the world”, meaning “Jesus” was “sacrificed” before the advent of the space-time continuum.  Grace was something proferred to us in eternity past, something in the original germ of being.

For a poetic description of this concept, check out Wendell Berry’s poem, “The Peace of Wild Things.”