"You have to die before you can be resurrected. You have to be totally extinguished. Then you can be fully renewed."
"God is forgiving, but He can't coexist with sin. Even an innocent mistake is still sin."
"Sin has to be paid for."
These are statements I heard last night at my church's weekly study group. (We're slowly going through Max Lucado's 3:16, and while I think Lucado is a fine writer I am far from agreeing with him on matters of faith. Still, I believe I can learn something from this study and leave behind whatever I cannot agree with or learn from.) They were made by my pastor. They all waved red flags at me. At one point I almost asked a question that would have made the discussion extremely interesting, but then I decided that the discussion would be better held in private.
It all goes to the root of my problem with the Christian tradition.
It makes sense that you have to be totally extinguished before you can be renewed. Any crumb left from the original can come back to haunt you if you're renewed prematurely. I was totally renewed one night almost 27 years ago, and I happily died to my old life and accepted birth into the new one. Fine. (Pronounced FEE-nay, this is Italian for "the end.")
From then on, nothing made sense.
"God is forgiving, but He cannot coexist with sin." That's because, in His perfection, He can't stand imperfection. Sounds like matter and anti-matter to me. They can't exist in the same place. Well, I was nothing but misery and anger and, yes, sin that night when I met Him, and He had His chance to let me have it. He let me have it, all right; He let me have my life back, cleaned and fresh and new. Doesn't seem judgmental or vindictive to me.
"Even an innocent mistake is still sin." Whatever happened to the matter of your intention? We all make innocent mistakes. We all make wrong choices even if we think we're making good ones. You make the best choice you can with the understanding available to you, and sometimes it blows up on you. But your intention was right, and God knows that.
"Sin has to be paid for." You get out of the payment by believing that Jesus died in your place. That is a condition. We don't get forgiveness unless we do something. Where is grace? Where is the unconditional love I met one night?
So let's take another look at this. I have started to reread another Marcus Borg book. This one is Jesus: A New Vision. Hear what Borg says on page 103: "To say that God is gracious means that the relationship with God is not dependent upon performance . . . The relationship is prior to that." In other words, God already loves us! Love is God's nature, and God loves us from the beginning. All God actually wants from us is to love Him back, to be in relationship with Him. That way we are open to His leading and He can heal us.
That sounds much more effective than the other way.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
What Is Salvation Anyway?
In The God We Never Knew, Marcus Borg asks an interesting question about salvation: Is it about the next life or about this life?
He goes into Biblical images of salvation such as bondage and liberation, estrangement and reconciliation, or salvation as enlightenment or forgiveness or experiencing the love of God.
The basic beliefs about salvation that we hear of today are that we get to go to Heaven when we die, if we believe that Jesus died on the cross to give us forgiveness for our sins. That adds a condition; we aren't forgiven for our sins unless we meet a requirement. (So much for grace!) What Borg points out is that we think of salvation as being connected to the idea of an afterlife. Why, after all, should we bother to do good here on earth if there is no reward for it in the afterlife?
If there is really anything to grace, God loves us in spite of our sins and screwups. Knowing God's unconditional love and acceptance is surely salvation, because it is healing and liberating. (I know; I've been there.)
So if you experience this unconditional love, and you are healed and liberated, you will literally be reborn. (I was, anyway.) If resurrection is taken as a dying to the old life and being born into a new one, then we see that in the cross and its aftermath.
And notice that this refers to knowing God. Not knowing about God. Actual experience, an encounter with the Divine, is how you get to know God. Nothing else changes you.
Borg has a lot more to say about salvation. I am branching off at this point.
For a long time, I have believed that salvation was simply knowing that God loves you. And I have been convinced for 27 years that the important thing is to have a relationship with God, not to believe this or that doctrine. I am saved. I have this relationship. I am already in the Kingdom. The afterlife, whatever it is going to be, will only continue what has begun in this life.
He goes into Biblical images of salvation such as bondage and liberation, estrangement and reconciliation, or salvation as enlightenment or forgiveness or experiencing the love of God.
The basic beliefs about salvation that we hear of today are that we get to go to Heaven when we die, if we believe that Jesus died on the cross to give us forgiveness for our sins. That adds a condition; we aren't forgiven for our sins unless we meet a requirement. (So much for grace!) What Borg points out is that we think of salvation as being connected to the idea of an afterlife. Why, after all, should we bother to do good here on earth if there is no reward for it in the afterlife?
If there is really anything to grace, God loves us in spite of our sins and screwups. Knowing God's unconditional love and acceptance is surely salvation, because it is healing and liberating. (I know; I've been there.)
So if you experience this unconditional love, and you are healed and liberated, you will literally be reborn. (I was, anyway.) If resurrection is taken as a dying to the old life and being born into a new one, then we see that in the cross and its aftermath.
And notice that this refers to knowing God. Not knowing about God. Actual experience, an encounter with the Divine, is how you get to know God. Nothing else changes you.
Borg has a lot more to say about salvation. I am branching off at this point.
For a long time, I have believed that salvation was simply knowing that God loves you. And I have been convinced for 27 years that the important thing is to have a relationship with God, not to believe this or that doctrine. I am saved. I have this relationship. I am already in the Kingdom. The afterlife, whatever it is going to be, will only continue what has begun in this life.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Insult, Cultural Goof, or Nonsense?
I have come to this conclusion about the incident of the British teacher in the Sudan: The whole thing could not have been about an insult to Muhammad. No way.
The teacher in question had a class of, I think, seven-year-old kids. There was some project the class was doing with a stuffed bear and they wanted to name the bear. The class voted on three names, and Muhammad was the name they voted for.
The kids, I presume, were Muslims. They certainly didn't know they were offending their own religion. The teacher was a Brit and had been in the country only a few weeks; she wouldn't have known any differently.
But someone complained, and we had this ridiculous international brouhaha. The original charges she was indicted on (if the Sudan has indictment as we know it) would have given her a punishment of lashes (yes, in the 21st century!), prison, and a fine. They wound up reducing the charge, gave her 15 days in the pokey, and announced that she would be deported. Then they pardoned her and let her leave the country.
It smelled to me right then. Smelled fishy. Powerfully fishy.
In the first place, she hadn't done anything. Her class made the decision. In the second place, if the insult was so horrendous, why were the charges reduced so promptly and easily? (I'm not even asking why British embassy officials and one of her major attorneys had trouble getting into the courtroom.) Despite all the arguments, the record of the kids' votes, the lack of ability to prove any intention to insult, she was convicted. And then why the pardon?
The whole thing was a farce.
It was not about the stuffed bear, or its name, or the teacher. It couldn't have been. It was illogical from start to finish.
Maybe they wanted to make trouble for a Westerner just because they could. Maybe they just wanted to kick Great Britain. We'll never know.
I inferred from something I read that the demonstration demanding her execution, while not put on by the government, could not have taken place without government sanction. That made it not just smell, but reek of fishiness. Was the original complaint real? Or did someone put those parents up to it?
It just looks like a trumped-up charge, a play where everyone on the Sudanese side went through the motions for their own reasons, and after they had what they wanted they let the teacher go. I am sorry that she had to get pulled into it; it seems clear to me that she was innocent but was deliberately made an example of. I am also sorry for her students, for they have lost a fine teacher.
I guess one thing it shows is that, if you want to be insulted, you can choose to be, and make an issue of it, no matter what.
The teacher in question had a class of, I think, seven-year-old kids. There was some project the class was doing with a stuffed bear and they wanted to name the bear. The class voted on three names, and Muhammad was the name they voted for.
The kids, I presume, were Muslims. They certainly didn't know they were offending their own religion. The teacher was a Brit and had been in the country only a few weeks; she wouldn't have known any differently.
But someone complained, and we had this ridiculous international brouhaha. The original charges she was indicted on (if the Sudan has indictment as we know it) would have given her a punishment of lashes (yes, in the 21st century!), prison, and a fine. They wound up reducing the charge, gave her 15 days in the pokey, and announced that she would be deported. Then they pardoned her and let her leave the country.
It smelled to me right then. Smelled fishy. Powerfully fishy.
In the first place, she hadn't done anything. Her class made the decision. In the second place, if the insult was so horrendous, why were the charges reduced so promptly and easily? (I'm not even asking why British embassy officials and one of her major attorneys had trouble getting into the courtroom.) Despite all the arguments, the record of the kids' votes, the lack of ability to prove any intention to insult, she was convicted. And then why the pardon?
The whole thing was a farce.
It was not about the stuffed bear, or its name, or the teacher. It couldn't have been. It was illogical from start to finish.
Maybe they wanted to make trouble for a Westerner just because they could. Maybe they just wanted to kick Great Britain. We'll never know.
I inferred from something I read that the demonstration demanding her execution, while not put on by the government, could not have taken place without government sanction. That made it not just smell, but reek of fishiness. Was the original complaint real? Or did someone put those parents up to it?
It just looks like a trumped-up charge, a play where everyone on the Sudanese side went through the motions for their own reasons, and after they had what they wanted they let the teacher go. I am sorry that she had to get pulled into it; it seems clear to me that she was innocent but was deliberately made an example of. I am also sorry for her students, for they have lost a fine teacher.
I guess one thing it shows is that, if you want to be insulted, you can choose to be, and make an issue of it, no matter what.
Basic Spiritual Disciplines?
Recently we had a sermon in church about your work ethic. That didn't mean your work ethic at work. It meant your work ethic in the church. Whether you contribute time and effort to the work of the church. Whether you work at being an asset rather than a liability. Using your gifts for the good of the congregation. You express your Christianity by doing all that stuff.
Fine.
But then we hit a snag. Basic spiritual disciplines for the individual member were described as: attending worship weekly, Bible study daily, and tithing the full 10% of your income.
After the service I asked the pastor, "Where is prayer in that?" I know that he personally believes in prayer, but while he agreed that prayer is important, he didn't try to explain why he hadn't included it in his list of basic spiritual disciplines. Maybe the congregation has given him reason to think they don't care about it. I don't know.
Let me put it this way. I have begun to reread The God We Never Knew by Marcus Borg, and so far he has written about two basic ways we can look at God. Either God is a King (remote male authority figure who dominates us so that we have to obey) or God is a Spirit (right-here compassionate figure who desires to have a loving relationship with each of us). Borg and I both prefer the idea of God as Spirit, remembering of course that there is no actual word or concept that can begin to describe God with any accuracy.
Borg concludes one chapter with this summary: God is real, the Christian life is about entering into a relationship with God as we see God in Jesus, and this relationship can and will change your life. (This is page 51 in my copy.)
What I get out of it is this. The first statement is right on. The relationship is with God as shown by Jesus; it is not a relationship with Jesus himself. And I can testify about how it changes lives. So can many others.
How do we get this relationship? Again, here is Borg: "Prayer is attending to our relationship with God." (This is page 123.)
Worship, tithing, and Bible study are all good. I either do them now or have done them in the past. When I get my new life straightened out I may be doing all of them at once. Who knows? But they don't provide what prayer provides. The way to establish and nurture an intimate relationship with God is prayer. And to me anyway, that is the essential thing. There is no life worth living without such a relationship.
And so we need to pray.
That's all there is to it.
Fine.
But then we hit a snag. Basic spiritual disciplines for the individual member were described as: attending worship weekly, Bible study daily, and tithing the full 10% of your income.
After the service I asked the pastor, "Where is prayer in that?" I know that he personally believes in prayer, but while he agreed that prayer is important, he didn't try to explain why he hadn't included it in his list of basic spiritual disciplines. Maybe the congregation has given him reason to think they don't care about it. I don't know.
Let me put it this way. I have begun to reread The God We Never Knew by Marcus Borg, and so far he has written about two basic ways we can look at God. Either God is a King (remote male authority figure who dominates us so that we have to obey) or God is a Spirit (right-here compassionate figure who desires to have a loving relationship with each of us). Borg and I both prefer the idea of God as Spirit, remembering of course that there is no actual word or concept that can begin to describe God with any accuracy.
Borg concludes one chapter with this summary: God is real, the Christian life is about entering into a relationship with God as we see God in Jesus, and this relationship can and will change your life. (This is page 51 in my copy.)
What I get out of it is this. The first statement is right on. The relationship is with God as shown by Jesus; it is not a relationship with Jesus himself. And I can testify about how it changes lives. So can many others.
How do we get this relationship? Again, here is Borg: "Prayer is attending to our relationship with God." (This is page 123.)
There are many types of prayer, and many books about prayer, enough to fill a library. In all of them we can open to a relationship with God. But nothing does it like contemplative or silent prayer. Centering prayer. Prayer of examen. Lectio divina done in combination with centering prayer. That last one is also an in-depth way to do some Bible study as well. Those are the applications of contemplative prayer that I am familiar with. I'm sure there are many others as well.
Worship, tithing, and Bible study are all good. I either do them now or have done them in the past. When I get my new life straightened out I may be doing all of them at once. Who knows? But they don't provide what prayer provides. The way to establish and nurture an intimate relationship with God is prayer. And to me anyway, that is the essential thing. There is no life worth living without such a relationship.
And so we need to pray.
That's all there is to it.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
The Trouble With Mixing Church and State
I was just reading on my homepage a story about a young woman in Saudia Arabia who got gang raped - and has been given a horrendous punishment herself. At least the rapists are in prison; they are being punished for what they did. But it seems this young woman was out with the wrong person; she was out with a friend, and she is supposed to go out with men only if they are relatives. At last count she has been sentenced to 200 lashes, according to what I read. Not for being raped. For being out with the wrong person.
I can't imagine that this rape victim had done anything to deserve 200 lashes. Surely being gang raped by seven men is enough "punishment" for being at that place at that time, and had she been there with a relative she would probably still have been raped. (Her companion, a friend, was also assaulted.)
I realize that there are cultural differences as well as religious differences operating here. And I am encouraged by the worldwide outcry over this woman's sentence; at least some of us have decided to join the twenty-first century even if Saudi Arabia is still back in the year 500.
This is what bothers me about all the various movements to establish government by religion. We see it in the Muslim extremists, who are exporting their violence and their version of religion to many other countries besides their own. We also see it in some Christian groups here who, if they had the chance, would clamp down on all of us just as viciously as the Muslim extremists would.
Most of these factions are more concerned about rules rather than justice, about control rather than compassion, and most of them are going to exert the stiffest controls over the behavior and lives of women. I haven't heard of any faction yet that sounds like it would have one strict standard for everyone; most of them want to move backward, and re-establish male power at the expense of women's freedoms and rights, returning to double standards that it has taken decades to eliminate.
As a woman, therefore, I can't help but be suspicious of these movements. Women have struggled long and hard for things that men take for granted - things like being able to vote, for goodness' sake, to graduate from universities, to have careers in the professions. And while the debate is far from over, women currently have at least some say over matters when they become pregnant.
How can any woman want to go back to being the property of a man? To being unable to vote or hold any kind of public office? To being unable to work in certain fields, or perhaps to be forbidden to work at all? To being told what to wear, where to go, and who to go there with? I would find it intolerable. I think a lot of the rest of us would too.
We all have our own ideas of what God wants. Some of us think God would like the kind of society I just described. Some of those people are, in fact, women, and if they really think that would be wonderful, more power to them.
But I look - as I often do - at the example of Jesus. I may not agree with what the church teaches about him, but I certainly recognize that he gave us a believable picture of God. The God I see in Jesus is unconditionally loving, accepting of all who came to him, revealing sin perhaps but not judging it. Jesus was free. Totally free. And he did not impose things on others, which makes me think he expected all of us to be as free as he was. And oh yes, he expected both men and women to be responsible for themselves, including their spiritual states.
I cannot think for one minute that God, who loves each of us, would support the kind of state that gives young women 200 lashes just for being out with someone who isn't a relative. I hope and pray that somehow the international reaction can help to ease the situation there. That is wrong. Whatever it is, it is not justice.
I can't imagine that this rape victim had done anything to deserve 200 lashes. Surely being gang raped by seven men is enough "punishment" for being at that place at that time, and had she been there with a relative she would probably still have been raped. (Her companion, a friend, was also assaulted.)
I realize that there are cultural differences as well as religious differences operating here. And I am encouraged by the worldwide outcry over this woman's sentence; at least some of us have decided to join the twenty-first century even if Saudi Arabia is still back in the year 500.
This is what bothers me about all the various movements to establish government by religion. We see it in the Muslim extremists, who are exporting their violence and their version of religion to many other countries besides their own. We also see it in some Christian groups here who, if they had the chance, would clamp down on all of us just as viciously as the Muslim extremists would.
Most of these factions are more concerned about rules rather than justice, about control rather than compassion, and most of them are going to exert the stiffest controls over the behavior and lives of women. I haven't heard of any faction yet that sounds like it would have one strict standard for everyone; most of them want to move backward, and re-establish male power at the expense of women's freedoms and rights, returning to double standards that it has taken decades to eliminate.
As a woman, therefore, I can't help but be suspicious of these movements. Women have struggled long and hard for things that men take for granted - things like being able to vote, for goodness' sake, to graduate from universities, to have careers in the professions. And while the debate is far from over, women currently have at least some say over matters when they become pregnant.
How can any woman want to go back to being the property of a man? To being unable to vote or hold any kind of public office? To being unable to work in certain fields, or perhaps to be forbidden to work at all? To being told what to wear, where to go, and who to go there with? I would find it intolerable. I think a lot of the rest of us would too.
We all have our own ideas of what God wants. Some of us think God would like the kind of society I just described. Some of those people are, in fact, women, and if they really think that would be wonderful, more power to them.
But I look - as I often do - at the example of Jesus. I may not agree with what the church teaches about him, but I certainly recognize that he gave us a believable picture of God. The God I see in Jesus is unconditionally loving, accepting of all who came to him, revealing sin perhaps but not judging it. Jesus was free. Totally free. And he did not impose things on others, which makes me think he expected all of us to be as free as he was. And oh yes, he expected both men and women to be responsible for themselves, including their spiritual states.
I cannot think for one minute that God, who loves each of us, would support the kind of state that gives young women 200 lashes just for being out with someone who isn't a relative. I hope and pray that somehow the international reaction can help to ease the situation there. That is wrong. Whatever it is, it is not justice.
Monday, October 29, 2007
To Believe Or Not To Believe - That Is the Question
Faith in God is weird. At least it is for me.
I trust God absolutely with my life. My physical existence. Maybe that is because the night I offered it to Him, He gave it back to me. But I believe that what waits for us on "the other side" is pure love, and I trust that absolutely.
But when it comes to worldly affairs - look out!
Maybe that too comes from life experience. Look at all the times I have prayed for direction about my life or my career or work (when I was still young enough to have time to build a career) and have seen no answer. I have prayed until I was blue in the face, and I still saw no answer.
"Oh, when God closes one door He opens another," people tell me. The doors that have opened for me have come at crisis points, and they led to jobs that were not too rewarding financially and even less rewarding in other ways. All other doors have remained firmly closed.
So here I am now. Early sixties. Left an established job in an area with a fairly healthy economy to move home to an economically depressed area. Savings account is depleted. Unless a door opens soon, I face the certainty of cashing in the IRA I had just started a couple of years ago; it's my third try, and I promised myself it wouldn't get cashed in like the others had. I feel as though someone has tied me to the railroad tracks and I can hear the train approaching the curve. There isn't anyone to untie me, and the train crew won't be able to stop in time.
Can I trust God now? If it actually were my physical life, I think I could. But this is quality of life. How you exist. Can I have a job that is more rewarding than the others? Can I earn enough to at least get out of debt and hopefully put a little by for retirement? If I can in fact afford to retire at all?
And what it boils down to is this question: Have I been following the wonderful Being I met one night as I lay in a hospital bed? Or not? That is the worst of it. I've led myself down the garden path before. Have I just done it again?
I acknowledged this morning, quite tearfully, that I am scared to death here. Maybe I just needed to say it aloud; both God and I know the truth of it, but it just needed to be confessed aloud.
It brings me back to the story of Peter trying to walk on the surface of a stormy sea to go to Jesus. As long as he kept his attention on Jesus, he was all right. When the reality of what he was doing got through to him, he grew afraid and began to sink. Jesus, of course, was there to pull him out.
Do I believe that actually happened? I don't know. I tend to think it is a story that makes a point: When you are in stormy seas, you can come through it unharmed if you keep your eyes on your Source. I am trying to do that.
There has to be a line between "keeping your eyes on your Source" and "not being realistic." I am not always certain where that line is. No, I am rarely certain.
Right now this is what I am certain of: I am in my early sixties, and I am still here. I have survived many crises - physical illnesses, financial difficulties, disappointments that sent me into big-time darkness. I will come through this somehow. (I wish I knew how! It would help.) Some day I will look back at this and say, "I really don't know to this day how I got through that." Just like all those other times.
And I attritube my continued survival to the God before Whom I wept this morning.
Yep, faith in God is weird. At least it is for me.
I trust God absolutely with my life. My physical existence. Maybe that is because the night I offered it to Him, He gave it back to me. But I believe that what waits for us on "the other side" is pure love, and I trust that absolutely.
But when it comes to worldly affairs - look out!
Maybe that too comes from life experience. Look at all the times I have prayed for direction about my life or my career or work (when I was still young enough to have time to build a career) and have seen no answer. I have prayed until I was blue in the face, and I still saw no answer.
"Oh, when God closes one door He opens another," people tell me. The doors that have opened for me have come at crisis points, and they led to jobs that were not too rewarding financially and even less rewarding in other ways. All other doors have remained firmly closed.
So here I am now. Early sixties. Left an established job in an area with a fairly healthy economy to move home to an economically depressed area. Savings account is depleted. Unless a door opens soon, I face the certainty of cashing in the IRA I had just started a couple of years ago; it's my third try, and I promised myself it wouldn't get cashed in like the others had. I feel as though someone has tied me to the railroad tracks and I can hear the train approaching the curve. There isn't anyone to untie me, and the train crew won't be able to stop in time.
Can I trust God now? If it actually were my physical life, I think I could. But this is quality of life. How you exist. Can I have a job that is more rewarding than the others? Can I earn enough to at least get out of debt and hopefully put a little by for retirement? If I can in fact afford to retire at all?
And what it boils down to is this question: Have I been following the wonderful Being I met one night as I lay in a hospital bed? Or not? That is the worst of it. I've led myself down the garden path before. Have I just done it again?
I acknowledged this morning, quite tearfully, that I am scared to death here. Maybe I just needed to say it aloud; both God and I know the truth of it, but it just needed to be confessed aloud.
It brings me back to the story of Peter trying to walk on the surface of a stormy sea to go to Jesus. As long as he kept his attention on Jesus, he was all right. When the reality of what he was doing got through to him, he grew afraid and began to sink. Jesus, of course, was there to pull him out.
Do I believe that actually happened? I don't know. I tend to think it is a story that makes a point: When you are in stormy seas, you can come through it unharmed if you keep your eyes on your Source. I am trying to do that.
There has to be a line between "keeping your eyes on your Source" and "not being realistic." I am not always certain where that line is. No, I am rarely certain.
Right now this is what I am certain of: I am in my early sixties, and I am still here. I have survived many crises - physical illnesses, financial difficulties, disappointments that sent me into big-time darkness. I will come through this somehow. (I wish I knew how! It would help.) Some day I will look back at this and say, "I really don't know to this day how I got through that." Just like all those other times.
And I attritube my continued survival to the God before Whom I wept this morning.
Yep, faith in God is weird. At least it is for me.
Monday, October 22, 2007
About Our Beliefs in the Public Arena
I have been saving this cutout for a couple of weeks now, until I could get back here and unburden myself. Generally I do not invest in newspapers, but I have been purchasing Sunday papers for their want ads, and a couple of weeks ago I ran into a column by Cokie and Steve Roberts. They were writing about the role faith should play in our politics.
What we believe (whatever it might be for any individual) should form the basis for our lives - our relationships with one another, our sense of responsibility to society, our treatment of the environment, etc. Isn't that what beliefs are for, after all?
If we get involved in politics at any level - local, state, national, or even international - our beliefs and values are going to influence our decisions. That is obvious. If there is any place where you would want your values to influence anything, it surely would be in politics.
So what is the beef with the conservative Right?
It wasn't until I read Cokie and Steve's column that I saw the distinction expressed in clear language. It is one thing to do your political work according to your values and beliefs; it is proper for them to be your guide. It is another thing entirely to use them as a blueprint for public policy which imposes your values on others who don't agree with you.
And that is what scares me (and I doubt that I am alone) about the conservative Right. They are doing just that. And while I hear that they are in the minority, they seem to be positioning themselves to make their beliefs the law of the land. That will be worse than sad, if it actually happens. I hope that we will wake up before it goes that far.
What we believe (whatever it might be for any individual) should form the basis for our lives - our relationships with one another, our sense of responsibility to society, our treatment of the environment, etc. Isn't that what beliefs are for, after all?
If we get involved in politics at any level - local, state, national, or even international - our beliefs and values are going to influence our decisions. That is obvious. If there is any place where you would want your values to influence anything, it surely would be in politics.
So what is the beef with the conservative Right?
It wasn't until I read Cokie and Steve's column that I saw the distinction expressed in clear language. It is one thing to do your political work according to your values and beliefs; it is proper for them to be your guide. It is another thing entirely to use them as a blueprint for public policy which imposes your values on others who don't agree with you.
And that is what scares me (and I doubt that I am alone) about the conservative Right. They are doing just that. And while I hear that they are in the minority, they seem to be positioning themselves to make their beliefs the law of the land. That will be worse than sad, if it actually happens. I hope that we will wake up before it goes that far.
Where Have I Been?!
I hadn't realized it has been a whole three weeks since I wrote. A lot has happened. A lot of anger and emotion came roaring out of me a little over a week ago, and it has taken me this long to recuperate from the experience. I am not sure what all the excitement was about - I know for sure what kicked it into motion - but it is behind me now and I am getting over it.
Christian mystics would call it a dark night of the soul, I believe, and apparently I was having one of those, and the worst of it seems to be over now. That is good. It's a cleansing process that raises your consciousness, and the result is good while the process is uncomfortable.
This is how the cleansing process worked: I had been scheduled to present a workshop on the contemplative practice known as lectio divina. The people who had been asked if they were interested said that they were. However, at the appointed hour, the only person there was, you guessed it, yours truly. It came after a series of disappointments and frustrations in which everything I tried came up empty, and it was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I was furious with my Source. Royally PO'd. Depressed, fairly seriously, for several hours, but it was only for a few hours and I am thankful for that. It wasn't until the next day that I was able to go to my Source and tell Him that no matter what else is going on, I must have my relationship with Him.
Has that changed anything? Yes, my blood pressure is dramatically lower. And yes, I have had something cleaned out because there has been a hole somewhere inside me, empty and deep and numb, that has been gradually getting refilled with peace and new energy. There may be more changes yet to come, too.
I guess my point is this: Spiritual cleansing isn't always simple or fun, but it is essential for wholeness and growth, and it is worth whatever you go through.
So without trying to make any new plans or efforts just yet, I feel that the ball is not in my court any more, and the next move is up to my Source. I'm sure it will an interesting ride, whatever happens next. My Source is many things, but boring is not one of them!
Christian mystics would call it a dark night of the soul, I believe, and apparently I was having one of those, and the worst of it seems to be over now. That is good. It's a cleansing process that raises your consciousness, and the result is good while the process is uncomfortable.
This is how the cleansing process worked: I had been scheduled to present a workshop on the contemplative practice known as lectio divina. The people who had been asked if they were interested said that they were. However, at the appointed hour, the only person there was, you guessed it, yours truly. It came after a series of disappointments and frustrations in which everything I tried came up empty, and it was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I was furious with my Source. Royally PO'd. Depressed, fairly seriously, for several hours, but it was only for a few hours and I am thankful for that. It wasn't until the next day that I was able to go to my Source and tell Him that no matter what else is going on, I must have my relationship with Him.
Has that changed anything? Yes, my blood pressure is dramatically lower. And yes, I have had something cleaned out because there has been a hole somewhere inside me, empty and deep and numb, that has been gradually getting refilled with peace and new energy. There may be more changes yet to come, too.
I guess my point is this: Spiritual cleansing isn't always simple or fun, but it is essential for wholeness and growth, and it is worth whatever you go through.
So without trying to make any new plans or efforts just yet, I feel that the ball is not in my court any more, and the next move is up to my Source. I'm sure it will an interesting ride, whatever happens next. My Source is many things, but boring is not one of them!
Monday, October 1, 2007
Chewing on the Lessons Part Two
Have we settled the first point? The unconditional love, etc.? Probably not. You could argue that it is unconditional because of the cross - but that still sounds like the cross itself is a condition. So that gets me to wondering how and why we have gotten so afraid of God that we want a go-between to approach God on our behalf. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I do not feel the need of a go-between, and I am not certain we need one. If we are intended to have an intimate relationship with God, one on one, what would the go-between do? Is Jesus the Wayshower? Of course. Is Jesus the Example? Certainly. To me, anyway, he is. Is Jesus the Son of God? God Himself? Does it matter? One way or the other, he showed God to us, and if we are already loved unconditionally, is it necessary for us to be "redeemed?"
And that, believe it or not, brings me to the second point.
The other basic fact I have been chewing on is that God, the Source of All Things, the Universe, even (if you don't mind getting ultramodern here) the Particle Field - whatever that Being is that we call God - is totally and absolutely above and beyond all our ideas, concepts, and theologies about Him.
God is whatever God is, and nothing we believe about God can even approach the reality of God. Because I want my personal beliefs to be authentic to me, I have had to question all that I have been taught about God before my Encounter that night.
Let me put it this way. I am playing a keyboard piece by Mr. John Doe, who wrote this music in 1776. I am working from an edition made by some poor scholar who compared every version of this music, note by note, to determine which are Mr. Doe's original notes and which are mistakes. (This kind of edition has ways to tell you which is which.) If the editor could not decide, in the second measure of the composition, what one specific note should be, he has to provide his own guess plus the other choices. If I think one of the alternative choices makes sense, I have the right to play it that way. I don't have to accept the editor's choice.
I come to the nature of God, God's love for us, etc., with this attitude: If I am convinced something is of God (the "composer"), I honor it to the best of my ability. If I believe it is most likely to have originated with mankind (the "editor"), I feel no obligation whatsoever to honor it. I can choose to do so if it makes sense to me.
And to me it seems that all our theologies, creeds, doctrines, dogmas, and so on are simply mankind's own ideas about God. Our own guesses. Our own opinions. I don't believe they have come to us from God at all.
The conclusion this led me to is: We are free to believe what makes sense to us about God, but it is ours, not God's. Why else can we have so many religions? So many branches within one religion? In Christianity, even, so many branches within a single denomination? Is it not because we all develop our own ideas about God? If all this came from God, wouldn't it be more consistent and less varied?
And the conclusion that led me to is: Whatever we believe about God doesn't touch God. All our wrangling and feuding and wars over our beliefs are a complete waste of time, energy, and all too frequently our lives.
It would be comical, if it weren't such a tragic waste.
And that, believe it or not, brings me to the second point.
The other basic fact I have been chewing on is that God, the Source of All Things, the Universe, even (if you don't mind getting ultramodern here) the Particle Field - whatever that Being is that we call God - is totally and absolutely above and beyond all our ideas, concepts, and theologies about Him.
God is whatever God is, and nothing we believe about God can even approach the reality of God. Because I want my personal beliefs to be authentic to me, I have had to question all that I have been taught about God before my Encounter that night.
Let me put it this way. I am playing a keyboard piece by Mr. John Doe, who wrote this music in 1776. I am working from an edition made by some poor scholar who compared every version of this music, note by note, to determine which are Mr. Doe's original notes and which are mistakes. (This kind of edition has ways to tell you which is which.) If the editor could not decide, in the second measure of the composition, what one specific note should be, he has to provide his own guess plus the other choices. If I think one of the alternative choices makes sense, I have the right to play it that way. I don't have to accept the editor's choice.
I come to the nature of God, God's love for us, etc., with this attitude: If I am convinced something is of God (the "composer"), I honor it to the best of my ability. If I believe it is most likely to have originated with mankind (the "editor"), I feel no obligation whatsoever to honor it. I can choose to do so if it makes sense to me.
And to me it seems that all our theologies, creeds, doctrines, dogmas, and so on are simply mankind's own ideas about God. Our own guesses. Our own opinions. I don't believe they have come to us from God at all.
The conclusion this led me to is: We are free to believe what makes sense to us about God, but it is ours, not God's. Why else can we have so many religions? So many branches within one religion? In Christianity, even, so many branches within a single denomination? Is it not because we all develop our own ideas about God? If all this came from God, wouldn't it be more consistent and less varied?
And the conclusion that led me to is: Whatever we believe about God doesn't touch God. All our wrangling and feuding and wars over our beliefs are a complete waste of time, energy, and all too frequently our lives.
It would be comical, if it weren't such a tragic waste.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Chewing on the Lessons
Now to begin explaining how I got from there to here.
God loves me absolutely and unconditionally. And extravagantly! A whole mountain of love just for me? If that isn't extravagant, what is?
Wait a minute. I had been cursing God, I can't say I hated God but for sure I didn't like Him very much, yet there I was, placing myself in His power, saying, "Whether I live or die, it's Your decision." No wonder I hesitated! What would any of us do in such a situation? If God is as angry and judgmental and vindictive as we have been taught, wouldn't He have zapped me for good? Instead of doing that, He handed me my life back to me on a silver platter.
Why me? Not, why did I have to get so sick, but why does God love me so much? What am I to God? What is special about me?
The answer to that one, frankly, is: NOTHING AT ALL!
So what does that mean? Is it possible that God loves everyone the way He loves me? I am unique, and in that respect I am special to God, but if God loves everyone the way He loves me, there is nothing to recommend me. Nothing at all.
So the first thing I realized was that God does, indeed, love everyone the way He loves me. Sometimes that is hard to face. After 9/11 I struggled with it, because if God loves everyone the way He loves me, then He loves those men who hijacked the airplanes and flew them into the towers. There's no getting away from that. He loves Hitler and Stalin the same way He loves you and me. I still struggle with it, but there is no other way. Either God loves all of us, or God doesn't.
Along with that came the realization that I now desired to have an intimate personal relationship with God. No, not desired, itched to. Ached to! I have explored quite a few things since then, each with the hope that it would bring me closer to God. And they have done so.
Again, am I special? Well, we already know the answer to that one. Then could it be that God desires to have an intimate personal relationship with each of us? Why not? He loves each of us. Wouldn't it be natural for God to desire relationship with each of us?
But then the earthquakes began. This love is absolute. This love is unconditional. What does that say about Jesus? The church's teaching about Jesus makes the cross sound like a condition of an unconditional love. I haven't been able to get around that either. I grew up in a mainline Protestant denomination and I'm clinging to membership in it even now, but I hear nothing said in church about unconditional love. Or of God's love for each of us. I hear a lot about Jesus. We sing to Jesus, we pray to Jesus, and we literally worship Jesus. It's painful. To me, God is the Head Honcho, the Big Cheese, and it is God Whom I worship. Jesus clearly had a very close relationship with God, a mystical relationship, and everything my Encounter taught me is confirmed in him. But I do not worship him.
And in all the church's emphasis on Bible study and mission, which are good, there is no guidance for people like me who seek to know God intimately, through experience. Up close and personal.
So the result of the activity on the first point is that God loves each of us absolutely, unconditionally, and extravagantly. God desires to have an intimate personal relationship with each of us. And, sadly, I am no longer at home in the tradition in which I grew up. I am not quite sure yet what I will do about that. When in doubt, wait, and I am waiting for the solution to come.
And it will, when I am ready for it.
God loves me absolutely and unconditionally. And extravagantly! A whole mountain of love just for me? If that isn't extravagant, what is?
Wait a minute. I had been cursing God, I can't say I hated God but for sure I didn't like Him very much, yet there I was, placing myself in His power, saying, "Whether I live or die, it's Your decision." No wonder I hesitated! What would any of us do in such a situation? If God is as angry and judgmental and vindictive as we have been taught, wouldn't He have zapped me for good? Instead of doing that, He handed me my life back to me on a silver platter.
Why me? Not, why did I have to get so sick, but why does God love me so much? What am I to God? What is special about me?
The answer to that one, frankly, is: NOTHING AT ALL!
So what does that mean? Is it possible that God loves everyone the way He loves me? I am unique, and in that respect I am special to God, but if God loves everyone the way He loves me, there is nothing to recommend me. Nothing at all.
So the first thing I realized was that God does, indeed, love everyone the way He loves me. Sometimes that is hard to face. After 9/11 I struggled with it, because if God loves everyone the way He loves me, then He loves those men who hijacked the airplanes and flew them into the towers. There's no getting away from that. He loves Hitler and Stalin the same way He loves you and me. I still struggle with it, but there is no other way. Either God loves all of us, or God doesn't.
Along with that came the realization that I now desired to have an intimate personal relationship with God. No, not desired, itched to. Ached to! I have explored quite a few things since then, each with the hope that it would bring me closer to God. And they have done so.
Again, am I special? Well, we already know the answer to that one. Then could it be that God desires to have an intimate personal relationship with each of us? Why not? He loves each of us. Wouldn't it be natural for God to desire relationship with each of us?
But then the earthquakes began. This love is absolute. This love is unconditional. What does that say about Jesus? The church's teaching about Jesus makes the cross sound like a condition of an unconditional love. I haven't been able to get around that either. I grew up in a mainline Protestant denomination and I'm clinging to membership in it even now, but I hear nothing said in church about unconditional love. Or of God's love for each of us. I hear a lot about Jesus. We sing to Jesus, we pray to Jesus, and we literally worship Jesus. It's painful. To me, God is the Head Honcho, the Big Cheese, and it is God Whom I worship. Jesus clearly had a very close relationship with God, a mystical relationship, and everything my Encounter taught me is confirmed in him. But I do not worship him.
And in all the church's emphasis on Bible study and mission, which are good, there is no guidance for people like me who seek to know God intimately, through experience. Up close and personal.
So the result of the activity on the first point is that God loves each of us absolutely, unconditionally, and extravagantly. God desires to have an intimate personal relationship with each of us. And, sadly, I am no longer at home in the tradition in which I grew up. I am not quite sure yet what I will do about that. When in doubt, wait, and I am waiting for the solution to come.
And it will, when I am ready for it.
Friday, September 21, 2007
How Did All This Begin?
What happened to turn me from a staid, conventional Christian into a flaming contemplative semi-mystic, anyway?
I won't go into all the gory details here. (This doesn't need to be a novel, after all.) But 27 years ago this November, I was living in the city 800 miles away from home, and I went to the wrong surgeon for an appendectomy. Had he known what he was doing, the whole thing wouldn't have happened, but he messed it up big time, and I was in the hospital for three months trying to get over it.
No, not that hospital. My family came down from the Midwest, moved me to one of the large teaching hospitals, found me a better doctor, and the rest is history.
Well, anyway, there were several setbacks, and I fought my way through each as best I could. The moment came one night, as the nurses were settling me in for the night, and I knew that all the setbacks had been encountered. I don't know how I knew that; I just did. It was time to start healing now.
And I had run out of strength.
I didn't even care, for a few minutes, if I lived or died. It was just too doggoned hard to face going on.
I had been in a period of rebellion, to put it in orthodox Christian language. But that night I crawled back to God on my - no, not my knees, but my belly. I told God that I didn't care if I lived or died, I just wanted out of there ASAP, and how I got out - gurney or body bag - was up to Him. I knew exactly what I was saying, and for a moment I briefly hesitated, but I went ahead and finished it.
Then I went to sleep.
Something happened to me in the night. I have to admit that I have no actual memory of it, although I do have a couple of pictures of what it must have been like. But there was an Encounter in the night. There is no other explanation for the transformation that I discovered when I woke up the next morning, still alive and glad of it, joyful mind you, feeling all cleaned out and free of baggage. I was another person, and I hope it has been an improvement over the original version.
There were still several weeks to go in the hospital, although after that experience I soon graduated from Intensive Care. I had time to think and "process" what had happened.
By the time I went home to finish recuperating, I had two main concepts to chew on:
I won't go into all the gory details here. (This doesn't need to be a novel, after all.) But 27 years ago this November, I was living in the city 800 miles away from home, and I went to the wrong surgeon for an appendectomy. Had he known what he was doing, the whole thing wouldn't have happened, but he messed it up big time, and I was in the hospital for three months trying to get over it.
No, not that hospital. My family came down from the Midwest, moved me to one of the large teaching hospitals, found me a better doctor, and the rest is history.
Well, anyway, there were several setbacks, and I fought my way through each as best I could. The moment came one night, as the nurses were settling me in for the night, and I knew that all the setbacks had been encountered. I don't know how I knew that; I just did. It was time to start healing now.
And I had run out of strength.
I didn't even care, for a few minutes, if I lived or died. It was just too doggoned hard to face going on.
I had been in a period of rebellion, to put it in orthodox Christian language. But that night I crawled back to God on my - no, not my knees, but my belly. I told God that I didn't care if I lived or died, I just wanted out of there ASAP, and how I got out - gurney or body bag - was up to Him. I knew exactly what I was saying, and for a moment I briefly hesitated, but I went ahead and finished it.
Then I went to sleep.
Something happened to me in the night. I have to admit that I have no actual memory of it, although I do have a couple of pictures of what it must have been like. But there was an Encounter in the night. There is no other explanation for the transformation that I discovered when I woke up the next morning, still alive and glad of it, joyful mind you, feeling all cleaned out and free of baggage. I was another person, and I hope it has been an improvement over the original version.
There were still several weeks to go in the hospital, although after that experience I soon graduated from Intensive Care. I had time to think and "process" what had happened.
By the time I went home to finish recuperating, I had two main concepts to chew on:
- God loved me unconditionally, absolutely, and abundantly.
- God was colossal, far grander than anything I or any other human could ever comprehend, and utterly beyond all our attempts to confine Him in our boxes.
I will expand upon them in the next post, because they sort of grew. For now, let me leave with a description of the picture I took home with me, the picture of the Encounter that is the closest thing I have to an actual memory of it:
I am standing on one side of a chasm about the size of the Grand Canyon. On the other side of the chasm is a vast mountain, wide, high, massive as Mt. Everest. It was made of love. And it was all for me.
And ever since then, I cringe for all the people who are afraid of God. We are loved! There is a mountain of love for you as well as for me. What are we so afraid of? How can we be afraid of such love? I love God, I revere God, and I speak candidly to God, but I have absolutely no fear of God. I can't be afraid of a mountain of love.
To be continued . . .
Friday, September 14, 2007
Maundering On
I don't have any single specific thing I want to say today, but there are two or three "short shorts" I would like to touch on. Here goes.
Today I received one of those emails which require you to read some inspirational or nationalistic verbiage and then forward it to X number of friends. The implication is that if you do not, you don't have time for God or you aren't patriotic. To be perfectly candid, I have come to resent that entire scenario. It is a chore to sift through my mailbox, looking for friends who I think might appreciate receiving this message from me, assuming that I think it is actually worth passing on. And I distinctly resent the implication that I am not patriotic enough, or "religious" enough, and that is proven because I deleted the email instead of forwarding it on. In fact, since I don't feel I need to earn people's approval that way, I downright enjoy deleting their emails!
In this case, the person who sent it to me is a friend in treatment for brain cancer, and I did reply to her, thanking her for the lovely prayer. It was lovely. I copied it into a file I keep for that purpose. But I made no pretense of forwarding it. I hope she understands, because I have no desire to hurt her. She has enough to go through as it is.
I have just finished reading (for the second time) Beyond Belief by Elaine Pagels. It has led me to a conclusion. For years I have felt more and more distanced from the Christian church because I had an experience which transformed me. As time went on, I felt less and less connected to what I heard in church, but more and more connected to the fallout of perceptions from that experience. I have finally come to realize, and admit to myself, that I lean toward mysticism. My beliefs, which stem from that transforming experience, are beliefs I share with mystics of all traditions. There has been conflict between orthodoxy and mysticism for centuries of Christian history. It is not a new argument.
All this time, I have felt . . . well . . . timid about it. Crouching behind half-truths that I uttered. Letting people think I believed what they do when that isn't so. But there is nothing wrong with what I believe or how I perceive our world. It is time for me to stop skulking furtively in the closet. It is time to come out into the daylight and challenge orthodoxy. It has its accomplishments and it does its good things. But it also teaches things that I believe should be challenged.
So today I am resolved to come out of my mystical closet and work to let people know that there is life and faith and growth beyond the orthodox. I explore that territory freely. Anyone who wants to join me in my journey is welcome to come along.
Today I received one of those emails which require you to read some inspirational or nationalistic verbiage and then forward it to X number of friends. The implication is that if you do not, you don't have time for God or you aren't patriotic. To be perfectly candid, I have come to resent that entire scenario. It is a chore to sift through my mailbox, looking for friends who I think might appreciate receiving this message from me, assuming that I think it is actually worth passing on. And I distinctly resent the implication that I am not patriotic enough, or "religious" enough, and that is proven because I deleted the email instead of forwarding it on. In fact, since I don't feel I need to earn people's approval that way, I downright enjoy deleting their emails!
In this case, the person who sent it to me is a friend in treatment for brain cancer, and I did reply to her, thanking her for the lovely prayer. It was lovely. I copied it into a file I keep for that purpose. But I made no pretense of forwarding it. I hope she understands, because I have no desire to hurt her. She has enough to go through as it is.
I have just finished reading (for the second time) Beyond Belief by Elaine Pagels. It has led me to a conclusion. For years I have felt more and more distanced from the Christian church because I had an experience which transformed me. As time went on, I felt less and less connected to what I heard in church, but more and more connected to the fallout of perceptions from that experience. I have finally come to realize, and admit to myself, that I lean toward mysticism. My beliefs, which stem from that transforming experience, are beliefs I share with mystics of all traditions. There has been conflict between orthodoxy and mysticism for centuries of Christian history. It is not a new argument.
All this time, I have felt . . . well . . . timid about it. Crouching behind half-truths that I uttered. Letting people think I believed what they do when that isn't so. But there is nothing wrong with what I believe or how I perceive our world. It is time for me to stop skulking furtively in the closet. It is time to come out into the daylight and challenge orthodoxy. It has its accomplishments and it does its good things. But it also teaches things that I believe should be challenged.
So today I am resolved to come out of my mystical closet and work to let people know that there is life and faith and growth beyond the orthodox. I explore that territory freely. Anyone who wants to join me in my journey is welcome to come along.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Is God a Servant or a Serve-ee?
Like most of us, I grew up believing that God requires us to serve Him. (Or Her, or It . . . ) And it made sense at the time. Well, after all, here is this Old Man in the Sky who can send disaster upon you if you fail to serve Him, right? Of course you are going to serve God!
Then I grew up. First physically, then (this part took a little longer) psychologically, and finally (this part took still a little longer) spiritually. But I still wanted to serve God. This time it wasn't a matter of self defense but a desire to give back to that fascinating Being for returning my life to me.
Then from somewhere - I don't remember now, it may have been something I read - I got the idea that maybe God wants to serve us, rather than to be served by us. What a concept! Can there be any truth to that? Is there a way to answer such a question?
Actually, there is. Despite my dispute with much of what Christianity teaches (well, most of it to be honest) there is one thing I still agree with. I still believe that Jesus shows us what God is like. And did Jesus sit back on his fanny, demanding that his disciples bring him meat and bread and drink? Or did Jesus travel all over the place on foot, teaching and preaching and healing the sick? The gospels reflect the traditions, the stories that people remembered about Jesus, and even if eyewitness accounts disagree with each other and stories get stretched in the retelling, the healing stories are pretty consistent. So I have to think there is truth in them.
Okay, if Jesus helped people, served people, and showed God to us, what does that make God? Is God a cosmic Servant?
I think that I would have to say God is both Servant and Serve-ee. Here's why.
I wrote in a recent post that I am a piece of God. Why would God make little ole me a piece of Himself? If I am not special (and I definitely am not!) then everyone would be the same as me, and each of us is a tiny piece of God.
That means that when I do something to serve you, I am serving God by serving the piece of God that you are. You receive that, so God is a Serve-ee. But as a piece of God myself, as I serve, then God becomes the Servant as well.
See what I mean?
Of course God is there to help us through our crises and give us good things and all that. But God often does that through other people, each of whom is a piece of God. So no matter how you look at it, God is both.
There isn't much I can do for that august Being Who built the cosmos. That Being is the Source of All Things, utterly beyond anything I can say or do, and surely He can make whatever He desires. But there is quite a bit that I can do for His pieces who live around me.
So every time I hear someone going on about how we must "serve God" when they mean that Old Man in the Sky, I smile on the inside. It seems much more cozy to see it the way I do.
Then I grew up. First physically, then (this part took a little longer) psychologically, and finally (this part took still a little longer) spiritually. But I still wanted to serve God. This time it wasn't a matter of self defense but a desire to give back to that fascinating Being for returning my life to me.
Then from somewhere - I don't remember now, it may have been something I read - I got the idea that maybe God wants to serve us, rather than to be served by us. What a concept! Can there be any truth to that? Is there a way to answer such a question?
Actually, there is. Despite my dispute with much of what Christianity teaches (well, most of it to be honest) there is one thing I still agree with. I still believe that Jesus shows us what God is like. And did Jesus sit back on his fanny, demanding that his disciples bring him meat and bread and drink? Or did Jesus travel all over the place on foot, teaching and preaching and healing the sick? The gospels reflect the traditions, the stories that people remembered about Jesus, and even if eyewitness accounts disagree with each other and stories get stretched in the retelling, the healing stories are pretty consistent. So I have to think there is truth in them.
Okay, if Jesus helped people, served people, and showed God to us, what does that make God? Is God a cosmic Servant?
I think that I would have to say God is both Servant and Serve-ee. Here's why.
I wrote in a recent post that I am a piece of God. Why would God make little ole me a piece of Himself? If I am not special (and I definitely am not!) then everyone would be the same as me, and each of us is a tiny piece of God.
That means that when I do something to serve you, I am serving God by serving the piece of God that you are. You receive that, so God is a Serve-ee. But as a piece of God myself, as I serve, then God becomes the Servant as well.
See what I mean?
Of course God is there to help us through our crises and give us good things and all that. But God often does that through other people, each of whom is a piece of God. So no matter how you look at it, God is both.
There isn't much I can do for that august Being Who built the cosmos. That Being is the Source of All Things, utterly beyond anything I can say or do, and surely He can make whatever He desires. But there is quite a bit that I can do for His pieces who live around me.
So every time I hear someone going on about how we must "serve God" when they mean that Old Man in the Sky, I smile on the inside. It seems much more cozy to see it the way I do.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Rediscovering "Nature"
In the city, I had little opportunity to notice the natural world. For most of the time that I lived there, I was in one apartment after another. Trees and grassy areas were little green dots scattered amidst concrete and bricks. If I went walking in the neighborhoods, I had opportunity sometimes to watch dogs or cats or even, briefly, peacocks. For a while, a horse grazed across the street from one of my apartments. Even when I lived in a house, the yard was small and bathed in summer sun, and the lone willow I planted did not thrive, and the only natural things I experienced were insects and weeds. Well, I did get addicted to the singing of mockingbirds, but that was about the limit of my enjoyment.
But my goodness! In my home town I have discovered another world! Or should I say I have rediscovered the original world? My backyard is large and shaded by maples. In the past year I have enjoyed the pageant that marches through this yard.
There are squirrels. I have always enjoyed watching squirrels chasing each other up, down, and around trees. How in the world can they dart along such narrow branches or even telephone and power cables? They never seem to fall.
There are rabbits. Small, brown, thin, quick rabbits. The nearby farms have been overrun by coyotes and deer, and the rabbits have come into town. I'm sure the gardeners hate to see them coming, but I haven't yet tired of watching them as, like the squirrels, they chase each other and dodge and just seem to enjoy the act of running.
Oh, yes, the deer. I haven't seen any of them in my backyard, of course, because they are out in the country. So is my sister. I don't remember the occasion now - maybe it was Christmas Eve - but I was driving over to my sister's home, and I got my first close look at deer. There were three of them heading through the field toward the road, and I knew they were going to cross in front of me. I hit the brakes and just sat there, fascinated, as they crossed the road; they would leap and hang frozen in the air for a second, then come down and leap again, and they were across the road in no time. I still see that picture of brown deer silhouetted against gray sky and white snow.
Not to mention the dash of color if a male cardinal happens to be sitting on a tree branch as you drive past.
Oh, yes, birds. Robins and starlings and wrens and woodpeckers and cardinals and I even saw a goldfinch once or twice. In fact, that is what made me want to write this post. We had a series of nasty storms blow through one day last week, dangerously high winds, lots of rain, you name it. A lot of sticks get blown off trees when that happens, and after the excitement was over I was outside starting to play my own version of Pick Up Sticks. I found a bird nest that had been blown out of a tree. I have watched the labor - the bird picking up a piece of grass, the wings straining to lift, the bird flying up to the nest site only to come back for another piece of grass . . . I stared at the little oval on the ground. I could see how the grasses and weeds had been stuck together with mud and formed into this oval. It was just a nest to the birds, but to me it was a marvel. How did the bird form such a neat and perfect shape? It must have sat on the branch and built the nest around itself. And there weren't any manuals; the bird just knew what to do. Isn't this world a marvel?
One of the things I've needed to do, this past year, was to slow down. Internally. Notice the small events of life again. It must be working. Our Creator is in everything, I believe, including that bird as well as the grasses it wove into that oval nest. And I can take the time to find Him (or Her, or It) there.
But my goodness! In my home town I have discovered another world! Or should I say I have rediscovered the original world? My backyard is large and shaded by maples. In the past year I have enjoyed the pageant that marches through this yard.
There are squirrels. I have always enjoyed watching squirrels chasing each other up, down, and around trees. How in the world can they dart along such narrow branches or even telephone and power cables? They never seem to fall.
There are rabbits. Small, brown, thin, quick rabbits. The nearby farms have been overrun by coyotes and deer, and the rabbits have come into town. I'm sure the gardeners hate to see them coming, but I haven't yet tired of watching them as, like the squirrels, they chase each other and dodge and just seem to enjoy the act of running.
Oh, yes, the deer. I haven't seen any of them in my backyard, of course, because they are out in the country. So is my sister. I don't remember the occasion now - maybe it was Christmas Eve - but I was driving over to my sister's home, and I got my first close look at deer. There were three of them heading through the field toward the road, and I knew they were going to cross in front of me. I hit the brakes and just sat there, fascinated, as they crossed the road; they would leap and hang frozen in the air for a second, then come down and leap again, and they were across the road in no time. I still see that picture of brown deer silhouetted against gray sky and white snow.
Not to mention the dash of color if a male cardinal happens to be sitting on a tree branch as you drive past.
Oh, yes, birds. Robins and starlings and wrens and woodpeckers and cardinals and I even saw a goldfinch once or twice. In fact, that is what made me want to write this post. We had a series of nasty storms blow through one day last week, dangerously high winds, lots of rain, you name it. A lot of sticks get blown off trees when that happens, and after the excitement was over I was outside starting to play my own version of Pick Up Sticks. I found a bird nest that had been blown out of a tree. I have watched the labor - the bird picking up a piece of grass, the wings straining to lift, the bird flying up to the nest site only to come back for another piece of grass . . . I stared at the little oval on the ground. I could see how the grasses and weeds had been stuck together with mud and formed into this oval. It was just a nest to the birds, but to me it was a marvel. How did the bird form such a neat and perfect shape? It must have sat on the branch and built the nest around itself. And there weren't any manuals; the bird just knew what to do. Isn't this world a marvel?
One of the things I've needed to do, this past year, was to slow down. Internally. Notice the small events of life again. It must be working. Our Creator is in everything, I believe, including that bird as well as the grasses it wove into that oval nest. And I can take the time to find Him (or Her, or It) there.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Mother Teresa
There is a new book coming out about Mother Teresa. Come Be My Light: The Private Writings of the "Saint of Calcutta" is its name. It sounds like a book I would like to have.
Probably none of us guessed that this nun, tiny as she was, projecting a heart and a will as fierce as a lioness defending her cubs, was inwardly as weak and doubting as the rest of us can be. I certainly had no suspicion of it. Does it affect my opinion of Mother Teresa? In a way, yes, it does. It strengthens it.
Because I am a contemplative and interested in mysticism, I have read about some of the historical saints. In fact, most of their lives were tough. There was a lot of suffering going on - physical illnesses, spiritually dark periods, difficulties in their monastic houses or with church authorities, you name it. It isn't easy to be a saint.
Mother Teresa has really earned the right to be named with these others. Not only her through work, or her strength of will, but her strength of faith. Yes, strength of faith. You can't serve the way she did, with all the doubt and suffering she experienced, unless there is a bedrock of faith supporting the whole structure.
Apparently she had, when she was younger, some experience of contact with God, and then somehow lost that sense of contact. And never experienced it again. No wonder she had doubts! To have that, and watch it slip from you, and there is nothing you can do about it - that would hurt, big time. I can't imagine a worse hurt than that.
But in spite of all that, she went on, dedicating herself to work that she felt called to do, teaching us by her words and example, and that takes a degree of strength that most of us can only aspire to.
I used to respect Mother Teresa. Now I admire her.
I used to think she was a tower of strength. Now I know she was.
I used to think she was settled in a powerful faith. Now I know she had doubts and questions like I do.
We need heroes of our faith. We need examples of devotion and service. We need them from past centuries, and we need them from our own time as well. Mother Teresa is such a figure, and her humanity cannot stand in her way.
Probably none of us guessed that this nun, tiny as she was, projecting a heart and a will as fierce as a lioness defending her cubs, was inwardly as weak and doubting as the rest of us can be. I certainly had no suspicion of it. Does it affect my opinion of Mother Teresa? In a way, yes, it does. It strengthens it.
Because I am a contemplative and interested in mysticism, I have read about some of the historical saints. In fact, most of their lives were tough. There was a lot of suffering going on - physical illnesses, spiritually dark periods, difficulties in their monastic houses or with church authorities, you name it. It isn't easy to be a saint.
Mother Teresa has really earned the right to be named with these others. Not only her through work, or her strength of will, but her strength of faith. Yes, strength of faith. You can't serve the way she did, with all the doubt and suffering she experienced, unless there is a bedrock of faith supporting the whole structure.
Apparently she had, when she was younger, some experience of contact with God, and then somehow lost that sense of contact. And never experienced it again. No wonder she had doubts! To have that, and watch it slip from you, and there is nothing you can do about it - that would hurt, big time. I can't imagine a worse hurt than that.
But in spite of all that, she went on, dedicating herself to work that she felt called to do, teaching us by her words and example, and that takes a degree of strength that most of us can only aspire to.
I used to respect Mother Teresa. Now I admire her.
I used to think she was a tower of strength. Now I know she was.
I used to think she was settled in a powerful faith. Now I know she had doubts and questions like I do.
We need heroes of our faith. We need examples of devotion and service. We need them from past centuries, and we need them from our own time as well. Mother Teresa is such a figure, and her humanity cannot stand in her way.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
It Can Too Happen Here and It Just Might
I was watching a program on PBS last night, just before I went to bed, and I wished I hadn't. It consisted of various interviews with what we would call moderate Islamic imams, Muslims who oppose the conservative movement to form an Islamic state. (The Muslims who favor the formation of an Islamic state, as it turned out, think they themselves are the moderates.)
What I inferred from the program was this: The people interviewed were not Muslims living in the Middle East. One controversy over an Islamic state was in Canada, one in Denmark, and one in fact was in the United States. There are mosques in these countries, led by imams who are working for an Islamic state (that was never totally defined). Their idea of an Islamic state is that an area is converted to Islam and is under Islamic law, so that government and religion go hand in hand. It did not sound like these imams were going to be content with having their own little private areas of authority in the communities where they live. They sounded to me as though they were speaking of nations, not local areas.
I also concluded that the pro-Islamic state imams are nothing but petty tyrants. They suppress opposition, distort the truth, and one of them was caught on camera talking about killing the moderate who led the opposition to him. These imams are more interested in poolitical power than in their religion, from the looks of it.
That scares me. This is happening in the West! Maybe if I were a man it wouldn't be so upsetting, but as a woman I have no reason to be interested in the conservative versions of Islam. Who is it who stones women for marital unfaithfulness, imagined or real? Who is it who forbids a woman to be away from home unless a man is with her? And who makes women wear those uncomfortable-looking outfits? Not even in color, for pete's sake, but unrelieved black!
The thing that really hurts me the most is this: I think God is more concerned about how we treat each other than He (or She, or It) is about what we believe. And when we kill others over an issue like right beliefs, we are totally barking up the wrong tree. God is so far beyond all our efforts to understand and explain Him that it is downright ludicrous. We get so carried away with our doctrines and theologies, and they accomplish very little when all is said and done. It is good that we codify our beliefs; we need that foundation for how we live. But let's put it into perspective. They are only beliefs about God, and they cannot be taken as incontrovertible fact.
The Christian takes Jesus as the example, and Jesus never turned anyone away from him because of what the person believed. If Jesus didn't, then God doesn't, because Jesus shows God to us. That's proof enough for me.
I am perfectly content to let the Muslims believe as they wish, and worship as they wish, and honor God as they wish. (But I do wish they would stop killing innocent people in the name of the God of love!) All I ask from them is that they grant me the same freedom.
What I inferred from the program was this: The people interviewed were not Muslims living in the Middle East. One controversy over an Islamic state was in Canada, one in Denmark, and one in fact was in the United States. There are mosques in these countries, led by imams who are working for an Islamic state (that was never totally defined). Their idea of an Islamic state is that an area is converted to Islam and is under Islamic law, so that government and religion go hand in hand. It did not sound like these imams were going to be content with having their own little private areas of authority in the communities where they live. They sounded to me as though they were speaking of nations, not local areas.
I also concluded that the pro-Islamic state imams are nothing but petty tyrants. They suppress opposition, distort the truth, and one of them was caught on camera talking about killing the moderate who led the opposition to him. These imams are more interested in poolitical power than in their religion, from the looks of it.
That scares me. This is happening in the West! Maybe if I were a man it wouldn't be so upsetting, but as a woman I have no reason to be interested in the conservative versions of Islam. Who is it who stones women for marital unfaithfulness, imagined or real? Who is it who forbids a woman to be away from home unless a man is with her? And who makes women wear those uncomfortable-looking outfits? Not even in color, for pete's sake, but unrelieved black!
The thing that really hurts me the most is this: I think God is more concerned about how we treat each other than He (or She, or It) is about what we believe. And when we kill others over an issue like right beliefs, we are totally barking up the wrong tree. God is so far beyond all our efforts to understand and explain Him that it is downright ludicrous. We get so carried away with our doctrines and theologies, and they accomplish very little when all is said and done. It is good that we codify our beliefs; we need that foundation for how we live. But let's put it into perspective. They are only beliefs about God, and they cannot be taken as incontrovertible fact.
The Christian takes Jesus as the example, and Jesus never turned anyone away from him because of what the person believed. If Jesus didn't, then God doesn't, because Jesus shows God to us. That's proof enough for me.
I am perfectly content to let the Muslims believe as they wish, and worship as they wish, and honor God as they wish. (But I do wish they would stop killing innocent people in the name of the God of love!) All I ask from them is that they grant me the same freedom.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Sin and the United States
As I channel surfed over the weekend, I found a station broadcasting a sermon by Rev. Charles Stanley. Rev. Stanley and I don't always agree on things, but often he does make sense even to this nonconservative, nonfundamentalist person.
He was talking about God's judgment of the United States. He was warning his hearers that one day God will wash His hands of us (does God even have hands?) and send some dire fate onto us because of our national sins.
I did not stick around to listen to all of his sermon because, after all, I was channel surfing, and on this occasion I expected that I would not agree with him. Maybe I would have; I'll never know now.
But it made me wonder. Just what sins was Rev. Stanley concerned about? I hope they weren't the likes of abortion, homosexuals, women's and gay rights, and the evils of teaching evolution in the public schools.
I hope they were more on the line of economic injustice, legal injustice, greed, poverty, crime, our rape of this planet and its resources, and our overpopulation. Not to mention all the ways we kill each other.
The Old Testament prophets all used to warn their country about God's judgment because of injustice. The people were to care for the orphans, widows, and strangers. The prophets had a lot more to say about those things than about whatever people did in their own homes and beds.
We may or may not believe, today, in God's judgment on our nation. In fact, many believe that this country has God's favor and is totally safe from such judgment.
I think that we have made a lot of terrible mistakes, some well intentioned, quite a few not. I think that we have gone a long way toward weakening ourselves and making ourselves vulnerable. I do not believe that God is judgmental. But if we fail to clean up our act we will ultimately have to deal with the consequences of our failure.
I didn't, as I said earlier, listen to Rev. Stanley's complete remarks. But I hope he addressed the real issues of our time.
He was talking about God's judgment of the United States. He was warning his hearers that one day God will wash His hands of us (does God even have hands?) and send some dire fate onto us because of our national sins.
I did not stick around to listen to all of his sermon because, after all, I was channel surfing, and on this occasion I expected that I would not agree with him. Maybe I would have; I'll never know now.
But it made me wonder. Just what sins was Rev. Stanley concerned about? I hope they weren't the likes of abortion, homosexuals, women's and gay rights, and the evils of teaching evolution in the public schools.
I hope they were more on the line of economic injustice, legal injustice, greed, poverty, crime, our rape of this planet and its resources, and our overpopulation. Not to mention all the ways we kill each other.
The Old Testament prophets all used to warn their country about God's judgment because of injustice. The people were to care for the orphans, widows, and strangers. The prophets had a lot more to say about those things than about whatever people did in their own homes and beds.
We may or may not believe, today, in God's judgment on our nation. In fact, many believe that this country has God's favor and is totally safe from such judgment.
I think that we have made a lot of terrible mistakes, some well intentioned, quite a few not. I think that we have gone a long way toward weakening ourselves and making ourselves vulnerable. I do not believe that God is judgmental. But if we fail to clean up our act we will ultimately have to deal with the consequences of our failure.
I didn't, as I said earlier, listen to Rev. Stanley's complete remarks. But I hope he addressed the real issues of our time.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Being good in order to get to heaven
I just finished opining somewhere on the subject of whether you can get into heaven by being good. I have to admit that I said only half of what I have come to believe about this.
What I said was that if you enter into an intimate personal relationship with God, heaven actually comes to you, because nothing can be better than living with God. And whatever you believe is "good" is what you will want to do because that honors God.
That's true as far as it goes.
I left it at that because the article will appear in a string of articles by practicing Christians and I wanted it to be in context with its surroundings. Maybe someone will read it, that way, and think about what I said. I hope so.
But here, where (frankly) I am anonymous, I will go a tad further. We do carry God inside us. A few years ago I found within myself what I have been calling the Contact Point, and I had gone nowhere so it had to be within me. The presence of this Contact Point convinces me that I am already a piece of God and have always been a piece of God. If God is eternal, so am I. How can I be anything else?
So being good in order to get to heaven, in the sense that you don't spend eternity in a fire pit (or, if Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle's sendoff of Dante's version of hell can be believed, a pit of . . . well, it's dark and runny and you regularly deposit some of this substance in your bathroom commode), seems to be a nonissue. If you are a piece of God, you will return to that from Whom you came when you shed your physical flesh. Where else could you go?
Does that mean you don't have to be good? (Who defines what is good, anyway?) We are free to choose, good or bad, one way or the other. But I will venture to say that the more you work to act according to what you believe is good, the more aware you will become of the Presence within you, and that is good indeed!
What I said was that if you enter into an intimate personal relationship with God, heaven actually comes to you, because nothing can be better than living with God. And whatever you believe is "good" is what you will want to do because that honors God.
That's true as far as it goes.
I left it at that because the article will appear in a string of articles by practicing Christians and I wanted it to be in context with its surroundings. Maybe someone will read it, that way, and think about what I said. I hope so.
But here, where (frankly) I am anonymous, I will go a tad further. We do carry God inside us. A few years ago I found within myself what I have been calling the Contact Point, and I had gone nowhere so it had to be within me. The presence of this Contact Point convinces me that I am already a piece of God and have always been a piece of God. If God is eternal, so am I. How can I be anything else?
So being good in order to get to heaven, in the sense that you don't spend eternity in a fire pit (or, if Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle's sendoff of Dante's version of hell can be believed, a pit of . . . well, it's dark and runny and you regularly deposit some of this substance in your bathroom commode), seems to be a nonissue. If you are a piece of God, you will return to that from Whom you came when you shed your physical flesh. Where else could you go?
Does that mean you don't have to be good? (Who defines what is good, anyway?) We are free to choose, good or bad, one way or the other. But I will venture to say that the more you work to act according to what you believe is good, the more aware you will become of the Presence within you, and that is good indeed!
Monday, August 13, 2007
Stranger In My Home Town? Yikes!
It has taken me a while to realize just how homesick I had become, living in that thar city 800 miles south of here.
The city had its points. Concerts. Universities. Libraries. Sports teams. Museums. Theaters. Oodles of shopping malls.
The city had other points too. Traffic. Pollution. Stress. Other people's dirt. Crime. Shoot, in that one apartment complex I got mugged, had a shipment of checks stolen, had two incidents of vandalism on my car, and my apartment got broken into. Twice! I had friends who didn't want to come and visit me even in the daytime, for crying out loud. Why didn't I move out? I couldn't afford a safer apartment that was as large as what I was renting in that crime center, that's why.
But now here I am, back home again in . . . well, Midwest farm country. I still lock the car every time I leave it, but I probably don't have to. I have lived off supermarket produce so long that it doesn't occur to me to harvest the rhubarb patch in the back yard of this house.
I was driving over to my sister's house last night, and (not for the first time) I thought of how beautiful farm country really is. It isn't exciting, no. It is flat or perhaps "rolling" a little. But last spring I enjoyed the sight of dark brown earth grooved by perfectly straight rows of green plants poking their heads up into the sunlight. And I have spent the entire summer enjoying the colors of the various crops as they grow, the contrasts between dark green beans and lighter green cornstalks with light brown tassles on top.
My sister and I drove together to a nearby town for an ice cream social followed by a band concert. This is archetypal rural life: a summer night with ice cream, cake, and band music in the city park. The band was good, the music had a lot of variety, and I sat there with my sister and had a whopping good time.
And when I got home I would like to say it was a quiet evening, but the night critters were almost deafeningly loud as I went into the house.
Still, I feel like a stranger. I grew up here (well, from the fifth grade on), graduated from high school here. My parents retired and died here. After high school I went to college, started to get work away from here, drifted off, and I eventually wound up in that city. I came back from time to time but I gradually lost contact with most of the people I had known in my youth. But here I am, back home, and a few weeks ago my high school class celebrated its 45th reunion. Forty-five!
After 45 years. I don't know very many people any more. The folks I grew up with, those who stayed here, I don't even recognize when I see them. I don't remember who married whom. And of course there are other people whom I am meeting now for the first time. Most of the people I actually recognize are from my parents' generation, and I enjoy it when they speak of my parents. But they are the only people I feel like I know!
I hadn't expected to feel like a stranger in my home town. There were some things I had expected, but that wasn't one of them. It will pass, though, as I continue to live here and see these folks again and again. There is a 45-year gap between then and now, but we can pick it up again.
The city had its points. Concerts. Universities. Libraries. Sports teams. Museums. Theaters. Oodles of shopping malls.
The city had other points too. Traffic. Pollution. Stress. Other people's dirt. Crime. Shoot, in that one apartment complex I got mugged, had a shipment of checks stolen, had two incidents of vandalism on my car, and my apartment got broken into. Twice! I had friends who didn't want to come and visit me even in the daytime, for crying out loud. Why didn't I move out? I couldn't afford a safer apartment that was as large as what I was renting in that crime center, that's why.
But now here I am, back home again in . . . well, Midwest farm country. I still lock the car every time I leave it, but I probably don't have to. I have lived off supermarket produce so long that it doesn't occur to me to harvest the rhubarb patch in the back yard of this house.
I was driving over to my sister's house last night, and (not for the first time) I thought of how beautiful farm country really is. It isn't exciting, no. It is flat or perhaps "rolling" a little. But last spring I enjoyed the sight of dark brown earth grooved by perfectly straight rows of green plants poking their heads up into the sunlight. And I have spent the entire summer enjoying the colors of the various crops as they grow, the contrasts between dark green beans and lighter green cornstalks with light brown tassles on top.
My sister and I drove together to a nearby town for an ice cream social followed by a band concert. This is archetypal rural life: a summer night with ice cream, cake, and band music in the city park. The band was good, the music had a lot of variety, and I sat there with my sister and had a whopping good time.
And when I got home I would like to say it was a quiet evening, but the night critters were almost deafeningly loud as I went into the house.
Still, I feel like a stranger. I grew up here (well, from the fifth grade on), graduated from high school here. My parents retired and died here. After high school I went to college, started to get work away from here, drifted off, and I eventually wound up in that city. I came back from time to time but I gradually lost contact with most of the people I had known in my youth. But here I am, back home, and a few weeks ago my high school class celebrated its 45th reunion. Forty-five!
After 45 years. I don't know very many people any more. The folks I grew up with, those who stayed here, I don't even recognize when I see them. I don't remember who married whom. And of course there are other people whom I am meeting now for the first time. Most of the people I actually recognize are from my parents' generation, and I enjoy it when they speak of my parents. But they are the only people I feel like I know!
I hadn't expected to feel like a stranger in my home town. There were some things I had expected, but that wasn't one of them. It will pass, though, as I continue to live here and see these folks again and again. There is a 45-year gap between then and now, but we can pick it up again.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
This Is Me
I am a child, a Particle, a Spark (take your pick) of that which we call God.
The thing that drives me is the desire to be as close to God as I can, as much of the time as I can. Because I am not separate from God (Source, Spirit, Universe, the Divine, take your pick) it is not so much a matter of finding God but being more aware of God’s Presence with me.
My purpose is to express what I have been made to be.
What I have been made to be is a seeker of truth, knowledge, and wisdom. To express this being I seek truth, knowledge, and wisdom wherever I am, in whatever I am doing, and in whomever I happen to be with. But, bookworm that I am, I like to read and also explore various types of spiritual practice as well.
Because truth, knowledge, and wisdom are not to be held for my own usage, I also express my being by sharing what I learn with others.
My personal mission statement therefore urges me to focus this sharing so that I “explore, share, and promote” an intimate personal relationship with the Divine not only in myself but also in others.
I am a Christian in that I strive to follow the teachings and example of Jesus of Nazareth.
However, I have also come to know that I am loved unconditionally and absolutely (as is every person), and to desire mystical experiences of God (such as Jesus himself enjoyed). These developments have all but dissolved my relationship with the church in which I grew up, for it offers me no support in the growth I desire.
As for my physical life, I am a classically trained musician, a devotee of mystery and science fiction, a lover of animals in general and cats in particular. I am a contemplative. I am overeducated for the kind of work I have had to do (I haven’t been able to make a living in music).
Now I am rebuilding my life. I became convinced that city living was hazardous to my health, I realized that I desired to make substantial changes in my life, and so I moved back to my home town in the rural Midwest.
That was just a year ago, so the changes are still growing. All too slowly! But there are signs of progress toward the new life which I desire. I will be conscious of God all around me (as well as within), I will be able to live by intention rather than by accident, and I can use my strengths to open people’s minds and hearts to a new kind of relationship with our Creator.
It is time for us to stop arguing and start working together if humanity is to survive. I believe with all my heart that the way for us to do that is to learn to love one another. This we cannot do until we can understand that we have more commonalities than differences. This we cannot do until we understand that we are not separated, but all connected, all branches on one tree.
In the years that remain to me, I desire to do something to help in this effort of reconciliation and cooperation.
The thing that drives me is the desire to be as close to God as I can, as much of the time as I can. Because I am not separate from God (Source, Spirit, Universe, the Divine, take your pick) it is not so much a matter of finding God but being more aware of God’s Presence with me.
My purpose is to express what I have been made to be.
What I have been made to be is a seeker of truth, knowledge, and wisdom. To express this being I seek truth, knowledge, and wisdom wherever I am, in whatever I am doing, and in whomever I happen to be with. But, bookworm that I am, I like to read and also explore various types of spiritual practice as well.
Because truth, knowledge, and wisdom are not to be held for my own usage, I also express my being by sharing what I learn with others.
My personal mission statement therefore urges me to focus this sharing so that I “explore, share, and promote” an intimate personal relationship with the Divine not only in myself but also in others.
I am a Christian in that I strive to follow the teachings and example of Jesus of Nazareth.
However, I have also come to know that I am loved unconditionally and absolutely (as is every person), and to desire mystical experiences of God (such as Jesus himself enjoyed). These developments have all but dissolved my relationship with the church in which I grew up, for it offers me no support in the growth I desire.
As for my physical life, I am a classically trained musician, a devotee of mystery and science fiction, a lover of animals in general and cats in particular. I am a contemplative. I am overeducated for the kind of work I have had to do (I haven’t been able to make a living in music).
Now I am rebuilding my life. I became convinced that city living was hazardous to my health, I realized that I desired to make substantial changes in my life, and so I moved back to my home town in the rural Midwest.
That was just a year ago, so the changes are still growing. All too slowly! But there are signs of progress toward the new life which I desire. I will be conscious of God all around me (as well as within), I will be able to live by intention rather than by accident, and I can use my strengths to open people’s minds and hearts to a new kind of relationship with our Creator.
It is time for us to stop arguing and start working together if humanity is to survive. I believe with all my heart that the way for us to do that is to learn to love one another. This we cannot do until we can understand that we have more commonalities than differences. This we cannot do until we understand that we are not separated, but all connected, all branches on one tree.
In the years that remain to me, I desire to do something to help in this effort of reconciliation and cooperation.
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