Richard Rohr’s latest book, FallingUpward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, presents an eloquent argument for the need to use the second half of life to pursue spiritual maturity, to forego the certainties of earlier decades when ego-identity needs were paramount. Early in the book he reminded readers of the need to remember the admonishment of St. Paul to always remember that we “see through a glass darkly.” He then quoted Desmond Tutu who quipped re this Pauline wisdom, “Remember, we are only the light bulb and it is our job to merely keep screwed in.” The light bulb is merely the bearer of the light. Without its source, there would be darkness. It is so easy to become intoxicated with our “light” and forget to honor and affirm our Source. When that happens, regardless of how profound and “wise” we may perceive ourselves to be, we are then purveyors of darkness.
One of my favorite lines from Marilynne Robinson‘s novel, Housekeeping, is, “need can blossom into all the compensations it requires” We are by nature very needy creatures, you might even say “needful things”, and one of our tasks in life is to explore this neediness and find appropriate, adaptive compensations.
And neediness is a quality that we should not insulate ourselves from; for, it should beckon to us at times in our life and we can learn that it can be the doorway into further, more mature “compensations.”
Unfortunately, we often attach ourselves to maladaptive, immature “compensations” and it is always hard to give them up. We are often addicted to them. We prefer to “cling to these ills that we have, rather than to fly to others that we know not of.” (Shakespeare, Hamlet.)
Playwright Tony Kushner’s HBO mini-series (2003), “Angels in America” is one of the best things I’ve ever seen on television. Starring Al Pacino, Meryl Streep, and Emma Thompson it was a poignant portrayal of 1980’s gay culture in America as it dealt with the AIDS issue. It was beautifully written and acted.
One of my favorite lines has to do with the question, “How do people change?” The question is posed rhetorically in a museum and a pioneer woman mannequin comes to life and answers:
Well, it has something to do with God so it’s not very nice. God splits the skin with a jagged thumbnail from throat to belly and then plunges a huge filthy hand in, he grabs hold of your bloody tubes and they slip to evade his grasp but he squeezes hard, he insists, he pulls and pulls till all your innards are yanked out…and the pain! We can’t even talk about that. And then he stuffs them back, dirty, tangled and torn. It’s up to you to do the stitching. And then you up you get. And walk around. Just mangled guts pretending.
The point is, change is difficult. And Kushner writes poetically and thus overstates the issue. We all find change painful but, mercifully, not that painful! But we prefer be-bopping through our life, mindlessly following some script that we subscribed to in early childhood, not deigning to apply “mindfulness” to our lives. To do so inevitably exposes themes in our lives, basic assumptions, that are maladaptive to say the least. As Adrienne Rich noted once, “Until we know the assumptions in which we are drenched, we cannot know ourselves.”
And for some, gut-wrenching change is in the cards. “Just mangled guts pretending” is their lot. By this, I think Kushner wrote of the excruciating pain of acting purposefully when their lives have been torn asunder by “the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to” (Shakespeare, Hamlet) or some particular devastating “shock.” It takes real to courage to act, and to act purposefully, when our lives have been torn apart.
The Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians telling them that he had been with them “in weakness, and fear, and much trembling.” I think Paul was referring to what clinicians would describe as “mood vacillation”. But, to put it in terms of plain English, Paul was saying that he had mood swings, that he battled anxiety and depression. And I suggest that this stemmed from genuine faith and genuine faith includes a lot of self doubt, awareness of personal demons, and personal insecurities.
A key element in the development of my faith has been giving up certainty and the compulsive need to be “right.” And when one does this, he/she often deals with “weakness, fear, and much trembling” in his/her day to day life. This is merely part of being alive and being open to the full gamut of human experience, the full gamut of spiritual experience. Toni Morrison described it as being “petal open.”
In closing, I would like to recommend reading Richard Rohr re the Apostle Paul. (You will have to google these terms. I’m’ still learning how to provide links!)
We put thirty spokes together and call it a wheel;
But it is on the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the wheel depends.
We turn clay to make a vessel;
But it is on the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the vessel depends.
We pierce doors and windows to make a house;
And it is on these spaces where there is nothing that the usefulness of the house depends.
Therefore just as we take advantage of what is, we should recognize the usefulness of what is not.
I’ve always loved this aphorism of Lao Tzu. It pre-dates the wisdom of Jesus who taught that only when we are empty are we filled. Specifically, I make reference to the doctrine of kenosis, or “self-emptying” taught in Phillipians 2:7 by the Apostle Paul. It is so difficult to take pause in our day to day life, practice a “mindful” moment, and catch a glimpse of our ego-fullness.
And once again, I quote Rilke who noted re the “hero”—- “Daily he takes himself off and steps into the changing constellation of his own everlasting risk.”
Formal worship is very important. It is often a very prosaic enterprise and should not necessarily be otherwise. The Spirit of God can be present nevertheless, ready to respond to the beckoning of a ready heart.
But some churches don’t deign to trust the Spirit of God to do its work and set out to whip-up a spiritual frenzy. In earlier years there was the ever-present and trusty use of hysteria. That ruse included manipulation and even outright terror. In modern times, many churches have gone high-tech and use “sis, boom, bah” to overwhelm its membership and get them psychologically open to manipulation.
The love of God is not present in this setting; it is not viewed as adequate to accomplish the purposes of the church. As Shakespeare noted in Julius Caesar, “When love begins to sicken and decay, it useth an enforced ceremony.” He then added, “There are no tricks in plain and simple faith; but hollow men, like horses hot at hand, make gallant show and promise of their mettle.”
“Consciousness is the subtle and all-embracing mystery within and between Everything. It is like the air we breathe, take for granted, and do not appreciate. Consciousness is not the seeing but that which sees me seeing. You must step back from your compulsiveness, and your attachment to yourself, to be truly conscious. Consciousness cannot be “just me” because it can watch “me” from a distance.” (Richard Rohr)
Rohr’s comment reminds me of a phrase that a friend recently introduced to me—“homo sapiens sapiens” or “man knows that he knows”. We all “know” but it is possible for us to “know that we know” and immediately we have went “meta”. That means we have developed a conscious awareness of our “awareness”. Someone once said, and I think it was the philosopher Ricoeur , “We cannot have a perspective on our perspective without somehow escaping it.”
This meta-cognition is important as it introduced a “gap” (see Deepak Chopra) into our reality. It gives us pause. And, in that pause we have an opportunity to realize that there might be another way of looking at the world.
Prayer continues to be an essential part of my life. And for me it is “meditative prayer” which continues to be a challenge because of that “monkey mind” which squeaks endlessly and jumps around….hmmm….well, like a monkey! The goal is focus in which our hearts and minds are wholly open to God and not given to distractions. Shakespeare best described this prayerful dilemma when Claudius (in Hamlet), kneeling to pray, lamented, “My words fly up. My thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go.”
I also try to choose my words wisely in prayer. I try to avoid, for example, saying, “Come Lord Jesus.” For, he has already come and is present in all of our hearts. To say, “Come Lord Jesus” is to speak of Him as if he is out there, not reflecting an awareness of his inner presence. He is always here. In fact, he is intrinsic to our very being. In fact, without Him we would not even have “be-ing”. This is relevant to the famous words of Paul, “I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, (my emphasis) but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.” Paul was recognizing that his “not I” was now prevalent in his life–Christ.
When I pray for healing, I don’t pray, “Lord, please visit “x” with your healing power.” I pray, “Lord, may “x” become aware today of your healing presence.” For God’s presence, including his “healing presence”, is always with us. All we have to do is get out of the way, let the ego’s grip on our life dissipate a bit, and the Spirit of the Lord is waiting.
Julia Kristeva’s book, Hatred and Forgiveness, is an excellent exploration of the experience of forgiveness. Kristeva explores the issue from a variety of perspectives and concludes that psychoanalysis is best suited for the accomplishment of forgiveness. I would broaden this observation to include “talk therapy” in general.
Kristeva, in this book and others, develops the notion that forgiveness is more than a conceptual process. If we are trapped in the conceptual world, then we are not likely to allow the experience of forgiveness to be constellated in the depths of our heart. For, forgiveness does not begin with a concretely existing deity dwelling “out there.” It is an essential element in the depths of our psyche and can be resurrected if we are willing to “unpack our heart with words.” (Shakespeare)
In my practice as a therapist, “self-soothing” strategies were a basic intervention that I offered. This refers to behaviors and patterns of thought which would help the client cope more adaptively with “the thousand natural shocks which flesh is heir to.” (Shakespeare, “Hamlet”) These could be something as simple as saying a brief mantra from time to time, planting a flower, taking a walk, watching a favorite tv show, or preparing a special meal.
I was made aware last week how this same notion of “self-soothing” can apply to spirituality/religion. I was at a thrift shop and encountered a person who frustrated and angered me, inducing…shall we say…unsavory thoughts. I immediately trotted out a little contrivance that I’ve borrowed from the Buddhists—“mindfulness”—and was able to then step back from moment and recognize this evocation of feelings in my heart. I recognized that this immediately made me feel better about myself and spared me from the orgy of shame and guilt which once would have beset me.
Now some would respond to an experience like this with a trip to the confessional or would silently (or openly) castigate himself/herself for being such a sinner. But each of these three maneuvers is merely a “self-soothing” activity and each has its place….though I much prefer mine! It is important to have strategies to make us feel better about ourselves, to assuage our guilt/shame over the misdeeds or errant thoughts that come daily.
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