Tag Archives: faith

Embracing Internal Contradictions

We are such complicated creatures, replete with hypocrisies, contradictions, dishonesties…and virtues! Add them all up and we are reduced to mere be-ing. We simply are. We have the gift of life and have that gift for just a brief moment. Yes, it often appears to be merely a “tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing” but even the author of that pithy observation (Shakespeare) reflects in the whole of his writing that our paltry efforts reflect value, quality.

The clinical term for this myriad of contradictions is “ambivalence.” Learning to acknowledge and even experience the torment of this ambivalence is one of the most critical lessons in life. It is always so tempting to not take this spiritual adventure and cling to the dogmas of our youth. But we yield to this temptation at the peril of our own soul.

Someone said…and it might have been Karl Jung…that one step toward maturity is when we can learn to tolerate in our heart these ambivalences, to embrace the presence of impulses and presences that are mutually exclusive. Read the following poem by May Sarton:

The Angels And The Furies

1
Have you not wounded yourself
And battered those you love
By sudden motions of evil
Black rage in the blood
When the soul premier danseur
Springs towards a murderous fall ?
The furies possess you.

2
Have you not surprised yourself
Sometimes by sudden motions
Or intimations of goodness
When the soul premier danseur
Perfectly poised
Could shower blessings
With a graceful turn of the head ?
The angels are there.

3
The angels, the furies
Are never far away
While we dance, we dance,
Trying to keep a balance,
To be perfectly human
(Not perfect, never perfect,
Never an end to growth and peril),
Able to bless and forgive
Ourselves.
This is what is asked of us.

4
It is the light that matters,
The light of understanding.
Who has ever reached it
Who has not met the furies again and again:
Who has reached it without
Those sudden acts of grace?

(This poem was shared weeks ago on the blog by Blue Eyed Ennis.)

Richard Rohr on Intimacy

Once again, I must note that I should merely post each day, in big print, “See Richard Rohr’s blog.” For, he says everything I could ever say and says it much better. Either he and I listen to the same Source or perhaps we read the same books! Actually, it is probably a combination of both. I share with you today the his post from yesterday’s blog on the subject of intimacy. This reflects his grasp of spirituality as a Divine revealing which is present in each of us. Yes, even in those that disagree with me and approach things differently. The key is to allow a “discerning spirit” to be present in our heart and allow it to expose those barriers that we have formulated, probably early in life, to protect us from “the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.” (Hamlet)
So how do you communicate to others what is inherently a secret? Or can you? How can the secret become “unhidden”? It becomes unhidden when people stop hiding—from God, themselves, and at least one other person. The emergence of our True Self is actually the big disclosure of the secret. Such risky self-disclosure is what I mean by intimacy, and intimacy is the way that love is transmitted. Some say the word comes from the Latin intimus, referring to that which is interior or inside. Some say its older meaning is found by in timor, or “into fear.” In either case, the point is clear: intimacy happens when we reveal and expose our insides, and this is always scary. One never knows if the other can receive what is exposed, will respect it, or will run fast in the other direction. One must be prepared to be rejected. It is always a risk. The pain of rejection after self-disclosure is so great that it often takes a lifetime for people to risk it again.
Excerpted from Immortal Diamond: The Search for Our True Self, pp. 168-16

Father-son Rivalry & the Chas/Andy Stanley Conflict

Cnn.com had a compelling story yesterday regarding televangelist Charles Stanley and his televangelist son Andy.

The story grabbed me first because it so vividly illustrates the complexity of family dynamics, even in an evangelical faith which has historically not addressed the issue. Andy clearly had…and has…father-son issues and needed to draw boundaries with his prominent and powerful father. He needed to “differentiate”, to use a clinical term. He had to “cut the cord” from his family of origin and as a reward appears that he is being blessed in a ministry that his now his own.

I was also impressed with the humility of both men and the respect that both men maintained for each other even in extremely painful times. Usually in these “father-son” conflicts, one or both parties will dig their hills in and not budge.

Finally, I admire the faith of both of these men. Charles has suffered greatly, not just with this conflict with Andy but in the break-up of his marriage. In evangelical culture, persons and families are supposed to be squeaky clean and the Stanleys were not and are not. That is because they are human.

And, as shared in the past, I am an “ex” evangelical. But I appreciate seeing how two men could suffer like they have and maintain their faith. Sure, their faith is defensive, compensatory, and ever has its “denial system” features. So what? So does mine. So does yours. We are human and we “hold this treasure in earthen vessels.”

I encourage you to “cut and paste” the following link into your address bar and read this very moving report of an eternally recurrent tale of “father-son” power struggles.

http://www.cnn.com/2012/11/17/us/andy-stanley/

 

The Meaning of the Cross

New Testament imagery is rich, particularly if one is willing to explore the imagery and interpret them in personal rather than doctrinaire terms. Let’s look briefly at the image of the Cross and its evocative power.

The Cross means different things to different people. For some it is merely an historical event which they interpret in terms of time and space; and that is fine for them. I prefer to take that dimension of the image and broaden it to include various layers of meaning, layers which are actually infinite as is the case with any meaningful symbol or myth.

For example, this morning over coffee my wife was perusing my blog and came across a recent reference to the Cross. She noted that in art it represents two divergent lines intersecting. This brought to my mind a line from T. S. Eliot’s Four Quartets where he presented the Christian image of the Cross as a “union of opposite spheres of existence.”

Here is the context of Eliot’s observation which I think reveals a profound grasp of the meaning of the Cross:

But to apprehend
The point of intersection of the timeless
With time, is an occupation for the saint –
No occupation either, but something given
And taken, in a lifetime’s death in love,
Ardour and selflessness and self-surrender.
For most of us, there is only the unattended
Moment, the moment in and out of time,
The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,
The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning
Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts. These are only hints and guesses,
Hints followed by guesses; and the rest
Is prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action.
The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation.
Here the impossible union
Of spheres of existence is actual,
Here the past and future
Are conquered, and reconciled,
Where action were otherwise movement
Of that which is only moved
And has in it no source of movement –
Driven by daemonic, chthonic
Powers. And right action is freedom
From past and future also.
For most of us, this is the aim
Never here to be realised;

The Crucifixion, including not merely this cross but Jesus upon it, is a powerful metaphor of transformation, of death, burial, and resurrection. It is an image of a psychic transformation in which we are integrated on a new level, where (to borrow from my beloved W. H. Auden) “where flesh and mind are delivered from mistrust.” When this happens, the incarnation has occurred. But, as Eliot noted, for most of us we don’t fully get it and are reduced to the effort, to “prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action.” But that is the miracle of Grace—it comes to us when we give up the struggle and find that is is present even in our feeble, immature, ego-ridden spiritual fumblings.  It comes to us, often piece-meal, only when we cease to struggle and start to relax, not just in the “arms of Jesus” but at the same time in our own body.  (I’ll let you know when I’ve worked that out! wink, wink)

To use a different, though relevant image, from Auden, “The Center that I cannot find is known to my unconscious mind. There is no need to despair for I am already there.”

Now at one time in my life, just the juxtaposition of “symbol and myth” and the New Testament was anathema. There was no room allowed for interpretation, for hermeneutics. The consequence of this rigidity is slavish devotion to the letter of the law and we all know what Paul said “the letter of the law” does.

 

“…Through a Glass Darkly.”

Spiritual life involves a mystery. It is a mystery. This is because it is about the very heart of our existence and our existence is a mystery. Modern science is bearing this out. The Bible and other holy writ have long said as much.

This mystery can be apprehended…and I use the term loosely…by faith. For, “Faith is the evidence of things unseen and the …..” We lay hold to eternal truth only by faith and as we “lay hold” on this truth we are deeply aware of the flimsy nature of this grasp, intensely aware that the object of our faith always eludes our cognitive grasp which serves the purpose of keeping us humble. “We see through a glass darkly” and “we hold this treasure in earthen vessels.”

When we are teased with the notion, “Oh, I have arrived” a discerning spirit will let us know, “Oh, no. You are just en route!” To borrow from the astute judgment of Karl Barthes (I think!), “We are in love with the object which recedes from the knowledge of it.”

T. S. Eliot put it this way in The Four Quartets:

And what you thought you came for
Is only a shell, a husk of meaning
From which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled
If at all. Either you had no purpose
Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured
And is altered in fulfilment.

And then I’d like to share from wisdom attributed (falsely) to Oscar Romero, the actual author being Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw, Michigan:

A Future Not Our Own
It helps now and then to step back and take a long view.
The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of
saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession
brings perfection, no pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.
No set of goals and objectives include everything.
This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one
day will grow. We water the seeds already planted
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces effects
far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of
liberation in realizing this.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning,
a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s
grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the
difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not
messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.

(This quotation from the Bishop comes from a blog by Blue Eyed Ennis on wordpress.com. This blog is always a treasure trove of spiritual wisdom.)

Nature in Hopi Prayers & Wendell Berry Poem

Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset. Make my hands respect the things you have made and my ears sharp to hear your voice. Make me wise so that I may understand the things you have taught my people. Let me learn the lessons you have hidden in every leaf and rock.
I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother,
but to fight my greatest enemy —Myself—
Make me always ready to come to you with clean hands and straight eyes.

(Asquali, Kawquai)

Someone recently sent me an Hopi prayer and I was taken with its wisdom and posted it yesterday.  That prayer and this one today reflects a sensitivity to nature that I greatly admire.  The Native Americans saw the unity of man and nature, not having been taught the Western subject-object distinction to the same degree that we European “invaders” had been.

And I really appreciated the insight into the “real” enemy—“myself.”  This reflects the “discerning spirit” spoken of in the New TestamentEmily Dickinson described the absence of this quality as “the mind too near itself to see itself distinctly.”  That “discerning spirit” is often missing in our culture, leaving us without “self” awareness.

These two Native American poems emphasis of nature makes me think of a beautiful poem by Wendell Berry.  A friend of mine last spring, who was dying at the time, asked me to define grace for him.  I paused only briefly before telling him, “Let me quote you a poem by Wendell Berry.”  Here it is:

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

My friend was greatly comforted by this poem, immediately agreeing, “Yes, this is about grace, the same grace offered by Jesus.”  The beautiful phrase, “I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their thoughts with forethought of grief” often comforts me when I’m stressed, bringing to mind the words of Jesus, “Let not your heart be worried.  Ye believe in God, believe also in me.”

 

Hopi Prayer on Death

HOPI PRAYER OF THE SOUL’S GRADUATION

Do not stand at my gave and weep
I am not there,
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight
On the ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush

of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.

My Spirit is still alive…

 

Ranier Rilke and “Dying Daily”

“Sometimes I don’t feel spiritual.” I’ve heard this many times and feel that way myself quiet often. But at this point I take comfort in the belief that “feelings” on the matter do not matter; for, I believe that regardless of how we feel we are a spirit. Spirit is not something extrinsic to who we are; it is intrinsic to the very nature of our being.

“Knowing God” does not mean merely accepting a bunch of concepts. That should be merely a stepping stone, a means to an end. “Knowing God” means merely means getting out of the way and discovering that our Source will fill the vacuum. It is the Christian doctrine of kenosis or “self emptying”—losing oneself to find oneself or as the Apostle Paul said, “dying daily”. And I like Ranier Rilke’s take on the matter in The Duino Elegies, “Daily he takes himself off and steps into the changing constellation of his own everlasting risk.”

“I Feel Your Pain”

One of my blog-o-shere friends responded re a recent post of mine about the role of feeling in alleviating the “heaviness” of life’s burdens. (Twominutesofgrace@wordpress.com)  She has been a therapist at one point in her life and noted how that part of her healing was learning the art of “reciprocal vulnerability” in the therapeutic relationship.  One of the pitfalls of being professional care-givers is that so often we do carry our own load of guilt and shame and seek to assuage those feelings with our clients. If we go too far in that direction, if we trot out the Clintonian, “I feel your pain”  too often, we might discover we have made it too much about ourselves.  But if we refuse vulnerability in the first place—barricaded behind professional jargon, cliche, and the DSM IV—we don’t need to be in the position of therapist, pastor, or “care-giver” in the first place.

Someone once said, “To be is to be vulnerable.”  I think the Apostle Paul had this in mind when he wrote to one church, “I was with you in weakness, and fear, and much trembling.”  Shakespeare, in Hamlet, described vulnerability as having a heart “full of penetrable stuff” suggesting that without vulnerability we are “impenetrable.”  And impenetrability is the natural trajectory of the human ego.  It resists anything which causes it discomfort.

 

Judgment vs. “Judgmentalism”

There are two incidents in the life of Jesus which I would like to juxtapose. In one incident, he upbraids the money-lenders in the temple, fashioning a scourge and driving them into the streets. In another incident, he is with the “woman at the well” who has been caught in adultery. He merely tells her to “go and sin no more.”

That does not make sense. Anyone knows that sex is “dirtier” than financial shenanigans (wink, wink) and why would Jesus be so lenient on this woman and so harsh with the “job creators” of the day?

I think Jesus was demonstrating judgment. He could have come down harshly with either matter; or, he could have been lenient with either. It was his choice. He was demonstrating that judgment can involve being very harsh or disapproving; but it can also be very forgiving. But in either instance, “judgment” is exercised.

You cannot be human without exercising judgment. For example, you are exercising this faculty even as you read this—you can choose to continue reading this or you can stop! You can respond with lavish praise or you can send hate mail! Yes, instead of praise, you could send money…and if you do so, please send tons of it! These are choices you are making.

And Jesus was demonstrating that there is no hard fast rule you can follow about many matters. For example, if you try to make the Bible into a rule book you will find yourself mired in the “letter of the law” and will soon be a very unlikeable, “judgmental” chap…or chappette! From day to day you have to make choices about when to speak up, to take action, and when to merely let something pass or when to actively forgive someone for some offense. Remember, “Judge not that ye be not judged.”