Tag Archives: Conversion

Wisdom from Walt Whitman

Leave a reply

This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body…

This is stunningly insightful, sounding like something straight out of the Old Testament…perhaps the Book of Psalms. And I really was grabbed by the advice to “argue not concerning God” as I see so clearly now the foolishness of such argumentation. His point is relevant to an observation I read recently on an evangelical blog in which the pastor noted he had given up apologetics, realizing that the primary point had always been to prove that he was right and the other fellow was wrong! The need to convert or to win someone to our way of thinking runs the risk of amounting to nothing more than an effort to satisfy our ego’s desire to have the entire world see the world just as we do.

I really liked Whitman’s admonishment, “argue not concerning God.”  Now, I ask, “Why bother to argue?”  I now have firm, faith-based, confidence in God and have no need to argue for His existence.  In fact, arguing for God’s existence has a predicate of profound doubt of His existence; for, otherwise, why would you need to argue?  From my experience, the need to “prove” that God exists springs from a deep-seated existential doubt of my own existence.  It is almost as if I’m saying, “Hey, I am so insecure about my own existence that I must believe in a God who is “out there” and as I long as I can do so I will know that I exist.  The need to argue for His existence was always to prove that I was “right” and in compete disregard for the “Rightness” that was given me in the person of Christ.  But, argumentation always kept the matter within the realm of my ego, that dimension of the human heart which is what Jesus had in mind for us to escape with…and I paraphrase…his admonishment, “Get over yourself!”

Oh, sure, I understand the “transcendent” and “immanent” dimensions of deity…so, yes He is “out there” and “in here” but why sweat the issue if you really believe that?  I believe the message of Jesus was, “Chill out.  I gotcha covered.  Don’t sweat it.”  But that is not enough for guilt-ridden Christians who are still enslaved by the law that Jesus said he had fulfilled.

My Marriage and “Einfall”

4 Replies

Several times I have referenced my participation in a local reading group of Karl Jung. One of his notions is that sometimes the depths of the unconscious will spontaneously break forth into one’s consciousness, almost like an invasion. He used the term “einfall” for this experience. (I will include a link to some very witty, and insightful, cartoons about this experience.)

My “einfall” is still underway and has mercifully been piece-meal, my Source knowing that I could not take it all in one fell swoop like the Apostle Paul on the Damascus Road or Eckhart Tolle on a park bench. One pivotal event in this process was getting married which I blogged about yesterday, marriage definitely being an “invasion” into my pristine, narcissistic world of Paul Tillich’s “empty self-relatedness.” A very interesting anecdote illustrates the impact this marriage was having on me just about the time of our first anniversary in the spring of 1990. One beautiful, cool, dewy spring morning I discovered the first tulip bloom in our yard and I knelt down to pick it and take it to Claire. Immediately afterward a wisp of thought fluttered through my mind, “I don’t know if I was plucking or being plucked.”

A light bulb turned on in my heart. I didn’t know as much as I do now about object-relations theory and the subject-object distinction but I realized that this “wisp of thought” illustrated that my boundaries were in transition and that this was very much related to having finally gotten married, and to the “work” of marriage described so vividly in the Wendell Berry poem provided yesterday.

Now, let me share a related thought that later came to mind. Some clinicians hearing this report of “not knowing if I was being plucked or being plucked” would be alarmed and think, “Uh oh. Psychotic break approaching! Danger, danger, Will Robinson!” And, spiritual growth is a coming apart as with a psychotic break but for some mysterious reason…which I can only describe as the grace of God…I knew there was nothing to be alarmed about, that something beautiful was underway. “Coming apart” is necessary at some point in our life so that we can be reintegrated as a more authentic person than we thought we were. This is very much related to the pithy wisdom of Fritz Perls who advised, “Let go of your mind and come to your senses” for he knew that senses or “feeling” will provide the redemptive healing that all hearts need.

 

(NOTE: I could not capture the link for “einfall.” But if you will simply google “einfall” you will see a selection entitled “images of einfall” which you can open. It is very funny…and illustrative of the idea.  Also, the reference to “Will Robinson” was from a stupid 1960s sci-fi tv show, “Lost in Space.”)

“The Chiefest of Sinners” Ruse

2 Replies

When I was growing up, there were various “themes” we could adopt in our religious/spiritual/church life. From time to time someone would get dramatically converted…perhaps even tearfully trekking down a sawdust trail to accomplish this…and then he would repent of his heinous crimes and misdemeanors, the horrible offenses against god and mankind, and then be gloriously saved. And for sometime thereafter he was feted in the community, holding an honored position as someone who had come in from the “miry pits of sin” and found grace. He was a champion of sorts, an illustration of how the grace of God could intervene and save anyone from the horrors of sin.

But sometimes this man would have a hard time giving up this lofty position. He would make it a regular refrain in his testimony, not letting anyone forget that he had been “the chiefest of sinners” before he found God. So we heard endlessly of his sinful excesses, often with profuse tears and lamentations, and this was usually very rewarding to the crowd. It was even cathartic. But then I suspect that I was not the only one who began to get a bit tired of it after a few years and privately wished we could merely “change the channel.” But this person would not let it go as it had become an essential part of his identity, a suit of clothes that he now proudly wore daily. “I was the chiefest of sinners,” could have been the name of his book. Actually, this well-intentioned, though spiritually immature man, had merely let his ego co-opt his new-found faith and had turned that faith into a plat form for the display of what the Apostle Paul called “the flesh.” Yes, even our attestation of our sinfulness can be a subtle form of egotism under the guise of humility.

This man at some point merely needed to let it go. Yes, he had been a sinner…and was still so, as is the case with us all…but “that was then, this is now.” And all of us have been, and are, “the chiefest of sinners” in some sense even if we have never given full expression to our dark side. Yes, we need to be present of this dark side, acknowledge it, but do not need to make the mistake of obsessing with it; for when we obsess with it, we merely give it life. The Pauline “flesh” will go to great ends to perpetuate itself and “spiritual” culture affords it ample opportunity.

 

Thoughts about the “Saved vs. Unsaved” Paradigm

2 Replies

Now I’m not going to dismiss the “Saved/Unsaved” notion. Christianity is part of our world culture and “saved/unsaved” is part of Christian tradition. I’m just much less certain about use of the idea and have deep-seated convictions that it is usually merely a means of the ego to trot out one of its favorite paradigms, “Us” vs. “Them.” You see, drawing distinctions is one of the earliest developments in the human psyche and is absolutely necessary if an ego is to emerge. The determination of “self” vs. “not-self” is an intrinsic part of the operation. If we never learn to draw a distinction between our self and that which is “not-self” we will have grave problems to say the least. In fact, many of the behavioral problems that mental health professionals deal with are boundary issues stemming from an impaired ability to draw that distinction.

And I have faint memories of learning to draw this distinction. And I know from my clinical work that the toddler’s discover of the word “No” is a key hallmark of this step in development and is an essential step in determining “self” vs. “not-self”. I remember very well the comfort in knowing that there was an “us”…meaning my particular family…and that we were separate and distinct from “them.” I also remember when this “us-them” paradigm began to grow in power in my life and when I learned that “saved-unsaved” was one of the primary ways in which the world was divided up. In fact, in that mindset, it was the most fundamental and most important division as it determined who was going to heaven and who was going to hell, who was “right” and who was “wrong.”

But what I now see is the ego reward that came with imposing that template on the world. It was exhilarating to know that I was part of “us” and that “them” did not belong there. And, yes I was horrified to know that, nevertheless, “them” would eventually burn for eternity in hell. ( I guess on some level I was really pleased that it wouldn’t be me though! I definitely took some satisfaction that “one of these days” God was “gonna kick ass” on all those rotten sinners!)

As I grew up this religious ardor diminished but for decades I know that whether or not anybody I met was “saved” or “unsaved” was an immediate issue. It was a template that I imposed on everyone, reflecting that deep-seated need to maintain a primary perceptual grasp of the world, I was “us” and they were “them.” And this also paralleled my view of the very world itself, the whole of God’s kingdom, flora and fauna. I was separate and distinct from “it” and did not see it as a matrix which ultimately was an integral part of God’s granting of my very existence.

In my participation in the blog-o-sphere the past two years or so I have met many conservative, evangelical Christians who, though more conservative than myself, demonstrate less rigidity in their faith and offer love and acceptance more readily. One in particular even had the audacity to discourse about lessons he had learned from atheists he had met. (Check out T. E. Hanna, http://ofdustandkings.com/author/TEHanna/) Hanna’s stance is that when a Christian meets an atheist, he should not immediately go into overdrive with, “Uh oh. He’s going to hell. How do I get him saved?” His attitude is to accept the person as he is, accept him lovingly and unconditionally, and not assume that it is his responsibility to cajole, intimidate, and manipulate that person into becoming a Christian. I think his attitude is like mine, that we should “work out our own salvation with fear and trembling” realizing that as we do this, God will take care of any converting that needs to take place. But when we are obsessed with “winning souls for Jesus”, we are often merely obsessed with making other people believe just as we do.

 

Batter My Heart, Three-Personned God

Leave a reply

The following sonnet by John Donne is one of my favorite poems. He portrayed mankind as coming to God kicking and screaming, coming to Him only after persistent and loving “battering” of our hearts. This, he argued, is because we are by nature “like an usurp’d town, to another due” and that steadfast loyalty has to be broken through. He also notes the limitations of reason in this process. We often try to think our way to God, believing with a little syllogism we can reason our way into the “bosom of Abraham”. But Donne laments, “Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, but is captive, and proves week or untrue.” And I have a hunch that Donne had in mind those of us who have been “Christianized” by our culture; or “enculturated” into our faith.

HOLY SONNETS.

XIV.

Batter my heart, three-person’d God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Sin, Words, and Grace

1 Reply

“Speak words that give shape to our anguish.”  This poet recognized the power of the spoken word to provide a container to human experience, to impose a limit to what would be otherwise unbearable.  Another poet put it like this, “To name the abyss is to avoid it.” There is a profound difference in the raw, unmediated, emotional, pre-symbolic (pre-verbal) experience of the abyss and the concept of “the abyss.”

Let me share an anecdote from clinical work many years ago.  I had young male for a client who was very addictive and functioned very poorly at times.  He had no history of religion and church.  He stumbled upon the phenomena of “religion and church” and found himself attending a formal, non-evangelical church fairly regularly.  He told me several times of how comforting the liturgy was to him, particularly that portion where he acknowledged, by the spoken word, that he was a sinner.  As we explored this experience of his, he recognized that by conceptualizing that he was a “sinner” he was able to articulate a deep-seated feeling of “badness” and “darkness” and “shame.”  He was able to apply a limit or boundary to the experience.

There are some whose life is sin articulate.  Their life is raw, unmediated, unmitigated “hell on earth.”  And I’m not talking about “sin” as it is usually taught.  I’m talking about sin as the experience of being separated from one’s Source and separated in a radical fashion. It takes a quantum leap for the individual so confined to say, “I am a sinner” and in so doing escape that “hell on earth”,  that world which Paul Tillich described as “an empty world of self-relatedness.”

This is actually a conversion experience and is a quantum leap from one sphere of existence into another.  It involves the experience of discontinuity, what St. Augustine described at his moment of conversion as “that moment when I became other than I was.”  This is not simple compliance with a syllogism

Let me close with the marvelous sonnet of John Donne:

BATTER my heart, three person’d God; for, you
As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow mee,’and bend
Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurpt towne, to’another due, 5
Labour to’admit you, but Oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weake or untrue.
Yet dearely’I love you,’and would be loved faine,
But am betroth’d unto your enemie: 10
Divorce mee,’untie, or breake that knot againe;
Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I
Except you’enthrall mee, never shall be free,
Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.

No need to convert you!

2 Replies

I have realized that my blogging career has paralleled a newly-found, complete disinclination to convert anybody to anything. Here, I do hold forth and usually about things which I take very seriously and believe in very strongly. But, these beliefs are only my perspective and are not therefore eternal truth that you must subscribe to. Now I do believe they are relevant to “eternal truth” but are not eternal truth itself and the degree that they are relevant is probably less than I am wont to believe.
I believe that spiritual truth must be personal, that it must be woven into the warp and woof of our day to day life so that it is very casual and natural. If so, any “converting” that needs to take place will be in the very capable hands of God. He does not need me to argue for him, to reason for him, to intimidate, manipulate, or browbeat. My faith is not something I wear, like my Sunday best clothing, it is just an important element of who I am; it is my “highest value” and will be apparent to those who know me best.
My newly-found approach to faith emphasizes ignorance. I just don’t know a whole lot. Oh yes, I am well educated, well-read, and very verbal—I am very adept at throwing 35 cent words around for nickel ideas. But I don’t know a whole lot. I don’t have objective knowledge of anything, certainly not God and His wisdom. I only at best “see through a glass darkly” and I always come to realize that my class was more “darkly” than I had previously thought, But I see this limitation as being merely my human-ness and something I must live with. And it keeps me more humble than I would be otherwise; it keeps me from needing to “convert” you!
I would like to conclude with a lengthy and insightful quote from Henry Miller from his lurid novel, Sexus:

The great ones do not set up offices, charge fees, give lectures, or write books. Wisdom is silent, and the most effective propaganda for truth is the force of personal example. The great ones attract disciples, lesser figures whose mission it is to preach and to teach. These are the gospelers who, unequal to the highest task, spend their lives in converting others. The great ones are indifferent, in the profoundest sense. They don’t ask you to believe: they electrify you by their behavior. They are the awakeners. What you do with your life is only of concern to you, they seem to say. In short, their only purpose here on earth is to inspire. And what more can one ask of a human being than that?

To be sick, to be neurotic, if you like, it to ask for guarantees. The neurotic is the founder that lies on the bed of the river, securely settled in the mud, waiting to be speared. For him death is the only certainty, and the dread of that grim certainty immobilizes him in a living death far more horrible than the one he imagines but knows nothing about.

The way of life is towards fulfillment, however, wherever it may lead. To restore a human being to the current of life means not only to impart self-confidence but also an abiding faith in the processes of life. A man who has confidence in himself must have confidence in others, confidence in the fitness and rightness of the universe. When a man is thus anchored he ceases to worry about the fitness of things, about the behavior of his fellow men, about right and wrong and justice and injustice. If his roots are in the current of life he will float on the surface of life like a lotus and he will blossom and give forth fruit. He will draw his nourishment from above and from below; he will send his roots down deeper and deeper, fearing neither the depths nor the heights. The life that is in him will manifest itself in growth, and growth is an endless, eternal process. He will not be afraid of withering, because decay and death are part of growth. As a seed he began and as a seed he will return. Beginnings and endings are only partial steps in the eternal process. The process is everything…the way…the Tao.