Usually my Sundays have a fixed routine. Church and Sunday school in the morning, prayer journaling in the afternoon, followed by cooking the entrée and vegetables for taking to work during the week. It fills my day, involves me in some relatively creative manual work, and allows me a generous amount of time to spend with my Source. It is essential that I keep in close contact with the Source of my life, so this is a commitment. I guard this time so jealously that an act of Congress is required before I skip it, and then only if I can do it some evening during the week.
It took me by surprise, therefore, when I decided recently to vary that routine.
I live in an area that has a small body of water called the Spoon River running through it. It would be totally unknown, in fact, if Edger Lee Masters hadn’t written the Spoon River Anthology. It is a small river, not very wide, not very long, with many small towns and villages on or close to its banks. The first two weekends in October are given over to something called the Scenic Drive, which features the towns along the river, fall foliage colors, craft fairs and food booths of many descriptions.
This year we had a streak of cloudy, rainy, unseasonably chilly weather for the Scenic Drive. There was only one really nice day to go to it, the Sunday of the first weekend in October. It was a perfect fall afternoon, clear blue sky with a few swirls and puffs of white cloud, mild in the sunlight but somewhat cool in the shade. There are always a number of places to decide on, but this year I wanted to go to a village close by me and take a look at the wares that were displayed. It felt at first like a rationalization when I decided to put off the prayer journaling until an evening during the week just so I could go on an outing, but the perfection of the day beckoned me.
When I got to the village, I grabbed a good parking place actually on the riverbank, in the paved area where boaters put their boats into the water. Just across the river was the town. I parked, walked across the bridge, and the first thing I saw was a booth advertising fresh fudge. Right away, I was glad I had come!
I wandered through the small downtown of the village. Well, it is small, but it holds a lot of booths every year. I saw sweaters, sweatshirts, kitchen towels, scarves, hats, jackets, blankets. There were metal things. There were wooden things. There were even fake electric guitars to be used as decorations. I admired home-grown squashes and tomatoes and nuts. My mouth watered as I looked at homemade jams, pies, local grown honey, homemade noodles and breads. Then there was food and drink to enjoy on the spot, lemonade, tea, coffee, hot chocolate, hot dogs, sausages, nachos, tacos, popcorn. I purchased a taco as I wandered, and enjoyed trying to walk and eat at the same time.
And of course there were the people. Short ones, tall ones, stout ones, thin ones. With high voices, with deep voices, with nasal voices, with rich voices. With children. With dogs. Some, like me, wore a sweatshirt. Others had on jackets or sweaters. Several wore T-shirts.
When I finally turned back toward the bridge, my way took me by an entertainer who sang fairly interesting songs and told excessively corny jokes. The jokes were so bad that I really couldn’t help laughing at them. And on my last stop out of town, I dropped by that fudge booth and bought some fudge to take home.
There was one more stop. As I crossed the bridge again I stopped to enjoy the delightful view of the rounded hills, the surrounding farms, the houses and barns, the yellows and browns of ripe crops under the blue sky. I said to myself, “My gosh, this is so beautiful.” And then I realized. I had postponed my prayer journaling for this outing, but I had not neglected my Creator. He was of course in the beauty of the day and the ripening crops and the sunshine and the breeze. He was in the people I had seen, and the fruits of creation included the fruits of our creation, the foods and gadgets on display, for any creative act is generated by His creative energy. We too are the creation, and we too generate fruits of creation. I had spent all this time enjoying the creation with its Creator.
Two hours of prayer journaling wouldn’t have pointed that out to me as vividly as that moment on the bridge. I swung into my car, unwrapped the fudge, took a bite out of it, and headed for home.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Coda - Leftovers
So where does all this leave Jesus? I believe there was a Jesus, and that he attracted enemies who killed him very nastily. I believe that Jesus showed us what God is like. The Jesus we meet in the New Testament was open to all who came with humble hearts, was compassionate toward those who suffered, healed those who asked for it, and taught about a God Who loves us and Whose “Kingdom” or presence is with us now. Jesus was a human mystic, and when he said he was in God and God was in him he was making a mystical statement.
Jesus was presenting the unconditional love of God, encouraging and showing us how to be intimate with God, and saying that God is present with us now. It’s a matter of recognizing that this has always been true; it isn’t new. Christians often say that we should become more like Jesus, and at that point I want to leap to my feet and shout “Halleujah!” because that is exactly right. Jesus was telling and showing us how to live intimately with God as he did, and we should work to become like him and live intimately with God ourselves. What could be more natural? I think it is about relationship, with God and with the environment and with each other. How else can we express the kind of love that Jesus showed us?
Jesus has become for me a sort of older brother figure, who still is prominent in my inner life, but while I love him I no longer believe that he died for my sins, I do not pray to him, and I do not worship him. He confirms what I learned about God in my encounter with unconditional love. I no longer see him as my “personal Savior” but he still remains the revelation of the nature of God.
And the Trinity? One God in three Persons? I never understood that one anyway. There is God, whatever God may actually be. There is the clear presence and working of God, which is what we refer to as the Holy Spirit. There is Jesus, who reveals to us God’s basic nature. Where the “spiritual gifts” come from is now an unanswerable question. I still believe that if f I pray in tongues it somehow adds pizzazz to my praying, and I can trust that and let it go.
Is there sin? Oh, yes. We are full of it. I think it is another way of describing the human condition. There are various definitions of sin. My understanding of it is the deliberate choice to do something that you know is destructive. Honest mistakes are not sins. Knowing something is harmful, and choosing to do it anyway, is the sin. Even if what it destroys…is you yourself.
The devil? Well, my beliefs there have gone back and forth. I do believe that our darkness is energy and can take actual form. There have been times when I felt that I was under a direct attack from it. I also think we are perfectly capable of screwing up on our own and don’t need anyone else’s help in that respect. It would probably be better if we stopped blaming our flaws on the devil, took responsibility for our screwups, and made stronger efforts to clean up our act.
What about the authority of the Bible? A fundamental tenet of the Christian Reformation has always been that the final authority in matters of faith of practice can be found in the Bible (as opposed to the authority of the church). To my understanding, the Bible was written by human beings. Inspired, yes, but still human, and their humanness can be found throughout the Bible. The stories may or may not report accurately on historical events, but whether they do or not, they contain timeless truth. I still read and learn from the Bible, parts of it anyway.
What then is my final authority? It has to be that experience I had, that encounter with unconditional love. It took my faith from a learned thing to an experienced, internalized, and personally appropriated thing, and made it much stronger. Nothing yet has rocked it, not illnesses, not 9/11, not the scandals of televangelists and other ministers. None of that touches my belief that I responded to unconditional love that night.
So in the final analysis, it isn’t that I “reject” God or Jesus, but I am having a great deal of trouble getting my head around the interpretation of God and Jesus that I have been taught by the Christian church. I feel obliged to follow the concepts I learned through my encounter with unconditional love. I don’t feel obliged to live by concepts that I don’t think are God’s. That would include any idea that goes against the love that I believe God has for each of us. That would include any idea that I don’t see Jesus expressing in the Gospels. And he hasn’t disagreed with my experience.
I have been told many times by fundamentalist friends that only the Bible can be trusted, not our feelings, not our experiences, not anything else. I cannot agree with that. We need to learn from our experiences, not ignore them. And I am working to learn from mine.
Jesus was presenting the unconditional love of God, encouraging and showing us how to be intimate with God, and saying that God is present with us now. It’s a matter of recognizing that this has always been true; it isn’t new. Christians often say that we should become more like Jesus, and at that point I want to leap to my feet and shout “Halleujah!” because that is exactly right. Jesus was telling and showing us how to live intimately with God as he did, and we should work to become like him and live intimately with God ourselves. What could be more natural? I think it is about relationship, with God and with the environment and with each other. How else can we express the kind of love that Jesus showed us?
Jesus has become for me a sort of older brother figure, who still is prominent in my inner life, but while I love him I no longer believe that he died for my sins, I do not pray to him, and I do not worship him. He confirms what I learned about God in my encounter with unconditional love. I no longer see him as my “personal Savior” but he still remains the revelation of the nature of God.
And the Trinity? One God in three Persons? I never understood that one anyway. There is God, whatever God may actually be. There is the clear presence and working of God, which is what we refer to as the Holy Spirit. There is Jesus, who reveals to us God’s basic nature. Where the “spiritual gifts” come from is now an unanswerable question. I still believe that if f I pray in tongues it somehow adds pizzazz to my praying, and I can trust that and let it go.
Is there sin? Oh, yes. We are full of it. I think it is another way of describing the human condition. There are various definitions of sin. My understanding of it is the deliberate choice to do something that you know is destructive. Honest mistakes are not sins. Knowing something is harmful, and choosing to do it anyway, is the sin. Even if what it destroys…is you yourself.
The devil? Well, my beliefs there have gone back and forth. I do believe that our darkness is energy and can take actual form. There have been times when I felt that I was under a direct attack from it. I also think we are perfectly capable of screwing up on our own and don’t need anyone else’s help in that respect. It would probably be better if we stopped blaming our flaws on the devil, took responsibility for our screwups, and made stronger efforts to clean up our act.
What about the authority of the Bible? A fundamental tenet of the Christian Reformation has always been that the final authority in matters of faith of practice can be found in the Bible (as opposed to the authority of the church). To my understanding, the Bible was written by human beings. Inspired, yes, but still human, and their humanness can be found throughout the Bible. The stories may or may not report accurately on historical events, but whether they do or not, they contain timeless truth. I still read and learn from the Bible, parts of it anyway.
What then is my final authority? It has to be that experience I had, that encounter with unconditional love. It took my faith from a learned thing to an experienced, internalized, and personally appropriated thing, and made it much stronger. Nothing yet has rocked it, not illnesses, not 9/11, not the scandals of televangelists and other ministers. None of that touches my belief that I responded to unconditional love that night.
So in the final analysis, it isn’t that I “reject” God or Jesus, but I am having a great deal of trouble getting my head around the interpretation of God and Jesus that I have been taught by the Christian church. I feel obliged to follow the concepts I learned through my encounter with unconditional love. I don’t feel obliged to live by concepts that I don’t think are God’s. That would include any idea that goes against the love that I believe God has for each of us. That would include any idea that I don’t see Jesus expressing in the Gospels. And he hasn’t disagreed with my experience.
I have been told many times by fundamentalist friends that only the Bible can be trusted, not our feelings, not our experiences, not anything else. I cannot agree with that. We need to learn from our experiences, not ignore them. And I am working to learn from mine.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
A Scary God or a Loving God? - Part Three
My objections to the conventional teachings begin with the conviction that in the requirement to believe something, someone (I presume the church itself) has imposed a man-made condition on a love which God offers without conditions. So if you encounter a Love that is absolute, unconditional, and extravagant to the point of being ridiculous, and you respond with your own love, there should be an entirely different result. Whatever you believe about God now will be based on love, His for you and yours for Him, and fear will fly out the window never to return. It is impossible to be afraid of that Love.
My objections continue with the conviction that we are not isolated from God; in fact, we are intimately connected to God and each of us is invited to enjoy intimacy with God. Yes, you can enjoy God. The Source of that Love is now the most important thing in your life, and you will gladly give up any habit or “sin” that keeps you from being close to Him.
And my objections also include the realization that God, the Creator, the Universe, whatever name we wish to use for this Being Who loves us so, is humongous. He is vast enough to make all this, a universe so enormous that we can’t even travel from one side of the Milky Way to the other in a few hundred years (and that’s just one galaxy). The universe is vast and complex, full of galaxies and stars and planets, probably including many other planets that have life, and even intelligent life. We are just one rock in this place, one grain of sand on a beach. We cannot possibly grasp the vastness of the universe or the fullness of this Being Who created it. Our religions and theologies have expressed our attempts to understand God, but none can fully explain Him. They are our theories; they are not facts. No one has the right to say that “I am right and you are wrong.” (Yes, that includes me!) No one can truly say that he has the only route to God.
So how does this look in the lives of the people who respond to God by loving Him back?
The belief of being exclusive: People who have a love-based relationship with God will realize that no one really “deserves” being loved like that. The truth of it is that we don’t have to deserve it. The Love is available for everyone. God loves the other guy too, just as He loves you. Nobody is exclusive. Nobody has the “only way” to God. God welcomes all whom He loves. And He loves all of us.
The belief that you are separated from God: You discover that God, the Source of All, is in you and you are in the Source. God was always there. You have just found Him. That’s all. You and God are organic parts of each other, and you cannot be separated. Neither are you separated from other persons, for God is in them as He is in you, and that connects you. It connects us all. It should help us to build bridges to each other, instead of walls against each other.
The belief that you are separated from nature: If God is in all that He has created, then He must be in all living things. It makes supporting environmental cleanup and responsibility another way to love and serve God our Creator. If you weren’t sensitive to these issues before you learned to love God, you will probably become so.
The belief that all your passions (meaning sex) lead to the greatest sins of all: Sex is a physical expression of love, a part of nature. As a part of nature it is not dirty or sinful in itself. We may use it against one another in destructive ways but we are the problem, not sex itself. Our job is to work to eliminate whatever ways we use sex, gender, gender roles, etc. in ways that control or use others. Once we understand that sex is natural and good, and that we ourselves are the problem with it, we can stop being afraid of our bodies and start healing our sexual dysfunctions.
The belief that God punishes you in horrendous ways for your sins: Look, life isn’t easy. It is true that “old age isn’t for sissies.” All the old people we know are tough as nails. But there is no need to whine: “What did I do to deserve this?” We are free to make our mistakes, and we experience the consequences they bring us. But God’s intention is not to punish. Jesus taught, healed, and restored us. If Jesus is truly the revelation of God, then surely God teaches, heals, and restores. Could the Being Who loves you absolutely and unconditionally and extravagantly do anything else? When we ignore His guidance we suffer the natural consequences of our decisions and actions, but God will also help us get through it. It’s better to take the responsibility for your choices and work to make better ones.
One more thing. If we are connected to one another, we should start making greater efforts to get along better. If God is so huge that we can’t grasp anything except one or two very basic things about Him, there is no point in arguing with each other over our theologies or doing anything else that lets our religions get between us. It is time to start serious interfaith dialogue and get busy understanding each other.
I think I can probably summarize all that by saying that I believe entering a love-based relationship with God will not only turn your life inside out, it will turn you inside out. (I know it sounds scary, but believe me, it is worth it.) You will begin to see life and the world more clearly. You will see the kinds of things I have been describing in this post. And that is the first step in working to heal our world. And, not incidentally, ourselves as well.
My objections continue with the conviction that we are not isolated from God; in fact, we are intimately connected to God and each of us is invited to enjoy intimacy with God. Yes, you can enjoy God. The Source of that Love is now the most important thing in your life, and you will gladly give up any habit or “sin” that keeps you from being close to Him.
And my objections also include the realization that God, the Creator, the Universe, whatever name we wish to use for this Being Who loves us so, is humongous. He is vast enough to make all this, a universe so enormous that we can’t even travel from one side of the Milky Way to the other in a few hundred years (and that’s just one galaxy). The universe is vast and complex, full of galaxies and stars and planets, probably including many other planets that have life, and even intelligent life. We are just one rock in this place, one grain of sand on a beach. We cannot possibly grasp the vastness of the universe or the fullness of this Being Who created it. Our religions and theologies have expressed our attempts to understand God, but none can fully explain Him. They are our theories; they are not facts. No one has the right to say that “I am right and you are wrong.” (Yes, that includes me!) No one can truly say that he has the only route to God.
So how does this look in the lives of the people who respond to God by loving Him back?
The belief of being exclusive: People who have a love-based relationship with God will realize that no one really “deserves” being loved like that. The truth of it is that we don’t have to deserve it. The Love is available for everyone. God loves the other guy too, just as He loves you. Nobody is exclusive. Nobody has the “only way” to God. God welcomes all whom He loves. And He loves all of us.
The belief that you are separated from God: You discover that God, the Source of All, is in you and you are in the Source. God was always there. You have just found Him. That’s all. You and God are organic parts of each other, and you cannot be separated. Neither are you separated from other persons, for God is in them as He is in you, and that connects you. It connects us all. It should help us to build bridges to each other, instead of walls against each other.
The belief that you are separated from nature: If God is in all that He has created, then He must be in all living things. It makes supporting environmental cleanup and responsibility another way to love and serve God our Creator. If you weren’t sensitive to these issues before you learned to love God, you will probably become so.
The belief that all your passions (meaning sex) lead to the greatest sins of all: Sex is a physical expression of love, a part of nature. As a part of nature it is not dirty or sinful in itself. We may use it against one another in destructive ways but we are the problem, not sex itself. Our job is to work to eliminate whatever ways we use sex, gender, gender roles, etc. in ways that control or use others. Once we understand that sex is natural and good, and that we ourselves are the problem with it, we can stop being afraid of our bodies and start healing our sexual dysfunctions.
The belief that God punishes you in horrendous ways for your sins: Look, life isn’t easy. It is true that “old age isn’t for sissies.” All the old people we know are tough as nails. But there is no need to whine: “What did I do to deserve this?” We are free to make our mistakes, and we experience the consequences they bring us. But God’s intention is not to punish. Jesus taught, healed, and restored us. If Jesus is truly the revelation of God, then surely God teaches, heals, and restores. Could the Being Who loves you absolutely and unconditionally and extravagantly do anything else? When we ignore His guidance we suffer the natural consequences of our decisions and actions, but God will also help us get through it. It’s better to take the responsibility for your choices and work to make better ones.
One more thing. If we are connected to one another, we should start making greater efforts to get along better. If God is so huge that we can’t grasp anything except one or two very basic things about Him, there is no point in arguing with each other over our theologies or doing anything else that lets our religions get between us. It is time to start serious interfaith dialogue and get busy understanding each other.
I think I can probably summarize all that by saying that I believe entering a love-based relationship with God will not only turn your life inside out, it will turn you inside out. (I know it sounds scary, but believe me, it is worth it.) You will begin to see life and the world more clearly. You will see the kinds of things I have been describing in this post. And that is the first step in working to heal our world. And, not incidentally, ourselves as well.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
A Scary God or a Loving God? – Part Two
At the risk of repeating myself:
The traditional/conventional teachings of Christianity are based on fear of God. These teachings are based on an ancient story that is really a myth. Today, however, we interpret the story as the account of an actual happening. In this story, the first human couple disobeyed God out of willfulness and He punished them for it. In fact, the doctrine of “original sin” tells us that He punishes all of us because we inherit Adam and Eve’s sins and punishment. We are literally born into sin, then, and there isn’t anything we can do to help ourselves. That is what the church tells us. (It makes me feel that I’ve been declared out before I even go into the batter’s box.)
This is where Jesus comes into it. We are taught that he came to earthly life in order to heal this breach in the God/human relationship. This he accomplished by going through a horrendous death and then being physically resurrected from the grave. In spite of all that, we must still be under some punishment; we have not been returned to the paradise from which Adam and Eve were evicted, and we are still allowed to suffer. We are no longer under the threat of eternal damnation. We still screw up, we still commit sin, but we are forgiven anyway.
In spite of this forgiveness, we still put our efforts into pleasing God. If He is not pleased, He inflicts sufferings on us. He can do it to punish, or to discipline, or because somehow it is good for us to hurt. We are constantly on the lookout for ways we offend Him, so that we might avoid doing anything to bring the holy wrath down on us. Instead of being grateful for that forgiveness, we continue to fear the angry and vindictive dictator.
How does this kind of faith work its way out in the lives of those who cling to it?
The belief of being exclusive: Only you, as a Christian, have access to God and Heaven, because Jesus as the only Son of God (or as the Incarnation of God, if you choose that belief) is the only way to find God. There are people who believe that a baby will go to hell if it dies before it can be baptized. There are people who believe that only members of their faith or their denomination will go to heaven. And many Christians believe anyone who doesn’t accept Jesus as Lord and Savior will go to hell, no matter how good they might be.
The belief that you are separated from God: God lives “up there” in Heaven, and He is far away from us. Every time you say something about God “looking down at us” you’re echoing this belief. The idea that God can’t stand us although He loves us would be impossible without the belief that we are separated from Him.
The belief that you are separate from nature: Because we believe in this separation, we have tried to dominate the natural world as an “other” thing. I look at the condition our ecology is in today, with our overpopulation, pollution, and rumors of coming water shortages, and I think we are reaping the harvest of this belief.
The belief that all your passions (meaning sex) lead to the greatest sins of all: This refers back to nature, for sex is nature. The belief of being separate from nature, then, separates us from our very bodies and their natural sexual energies. We think of sex as being dirty. We use sex-related words as profanity. We are taught that it is through the very act of sex that we pass on that old “original sin.” It also affects perceptions of women and their role in sex and giving birth. Many of us resist birth control for teens because we don’t want them to “get away with having sex,” which makes pregnancy sound like a punishment. There are still people who think of rape as something a woman invites, rather than a violent crime done against her.
The belief that God punishes you in horrendous ways for your sins: Some people thought 9/11 was God’s punishment on our nation for our sinful ways, meaning women’s liberation and abortions and the gay rights movement. I also think of the nun who told my friend X, who is suffering from a brain tumor, that she (X) has this illness because of some terrible sin she has committed. (I’m sure the nun thought she was speaking in love, and meant that my friend could be healed if she would confess this sin and repent.)
All of that, in my estimation, derives from a faith that is based on fear of God as dictator, police officer, judge, and jury. If your ideas are based on fear, then you live in fear of God. Even if you love Jesus, you may still be afraid of that almighty judge. Do the people who show the types of attitudes and behavior I have described even realize that they are afraid of God? I suspect not.
But if you encounter and respond to a Love that is absolute, unconditional, and extravagant to the point of being ridiculous, there should be an entirely different result. If you return that Love with your own love…
I really am going somewhere with all this. Be patient. And stay tuned.
The traditional/conventional teachings of Christianity are based on fear of God. These teachings are based on an ancient story that is really a myth. Today, however, we interpret the story as the account of an actual happening. In this story, the first human couple disobeyed God out of willfulness and He punished them for it. In fact, the doctrine of “original sin” tells us that He punishes all of us because we inherit Adam and Eve’s sins and punishment. We are literally born into sin, then, and there isn’t anything we can do to help ourselves. That is what the church tells us. (It makes me feel that I’ve been declared out before I even go into the batter’s box.)
This is where Jesus comes into it. We are taught that he came to earthly life in order to heal this breach in the God/human relationship. This he accomplished by going through a horrendous death and then being physically resurrected from the grave. In spite of all that, we must still be under some punishment; we have not been returned to the paradise from which Adam and Eve were evicted, and we are still allowed to suffer. We are no longer under the threat of eternal damnation. We still screw up, we still commit sin, but we are forgiven anyway.
In spite of this forgiveness, we still put our efforts into pleasing God. If He is not pleased, He inflicts sufferings on us. He can do it to punish, or to discipline, or because somehow it is good for us to hurt. We are constantly on the lookout for ways we offend Him, so that we might avoid doing anything to bring the holy wrath down on us. Instead of being grateful for that forgiveness, we continue to fear the angry and vindictive dictator.
How does this kind of faith work its way out in the lives of those who cling to it?
The belief of being exclusive: Only you, as a Christian, have access to God and Heaven, because Jesus as the only Son of God (or as the Incarnation of God, if you choose that belief) is the only way to find God. There are people who believe that a baby will go to hell if it dies before it can be baptized. There are people who believe that only members of their faith or their denomination will go to heaven. And many Christians believe anyone who doesn’t accept Jesus as Lord and Savior will go to hell, no matter how good they might be.
The belief that you are separated from God: God lives “up there” in Heaven, and He is far away from us. Every time you say something about God “looking down at us” you’re echoing this belief. The idea that God can’t stand us although He loves us would be impossible without the belief that we are separated from Him.
The belief that you are separate from nature: Because we believe in this separation, we have tried to dominate the natural world as an “other” thing. I look at the condition our ecology is in today, with our overpopulation, pollution, and rumors of coming water shortages, and I think we are reaping the harvest of this belief.
The belief that all your passions (meaning sex) lead to the greatest sins of all: This refers back to nature, for sex is nature. The belief of being separate from nature, then, separates us from our very bodies and their natural sexual energies. We think of sex as being dirty. We use sex-related words as profanity. We are taught that it is through the very act of sex that we pass on that old “original sin.” It also affects perceptions of women and their role in sex and giving birth. Many of us resist birth control for teens because we don’t want them to “get away with having sex,” which makes pregnancy sound like a punishment. There are still people who think of rape as something a woman invites, rather than a violent crime done against her.
The belief that God punishes you in horrendous ways for your sins: Some people thought 9/11 was God’s punishment on our nation for our sinful ways, meaning women’s liberation and abortions and the gay rights movement. I also think of the nun who told my friend X, who is suffering from a brain tumor, that she (X) has this illness because of some terrible sin she has committed. (I’m sure the nun thought she was speaking in love, and meant that my friend could be healed if she would confess this sin and repent.)
All of that, in my estimation, derives from a faith that is based on fear of God as dictator, police officer, judge, and jury. If your ideas are based on fear, then you live in fear of God. Even if you love Jesus, you may still be afraid of that almighty judge. Do the people who show the types of attitudes and behavior I have described even realize that they are afraid of God? I suspect not.
But if you encounter and respond to a Love that is absolute, unconditional, and extravagant to the point of being ridiculous, there should be an entirely different result. If you return that Love with your own love…
I really am going somewhere with all this. Be patient. And stay tuned.
Monday, August 31, 2009
A Scary God or a Loving God? – Part One
I have decided to try to work out a huge subject in a sort-of series. If I want to begin to encourage others to base their relationships with God on love rather than on fear, and I believe people need to be encouraged to do so, then let me work out some basics about what all that involves. This is what I believe about God:
God exists. He is the Creator of this universe. He loves every bit of this vast creation, and that includes each of us. He lives within each of us (immanent). Yes, He is also outside of us (transcendent). But my point is that we are not separated from Him. He desires intimate personal relationships with each of us. He is morally better than we are. He is more knowledgeable and more powerful than we are. He lets us live out the consequences of our choices and actions. He is there to strengthen us through that if it becomes, well, unpleasant. He is in everything that comes to us, including the things we don’t like, but I honestly believe that life is just that way. In fact, we grow more profoundly in hard times than we do in easy ones.
Let me inject one disclaimer. In spite of my use of the masculine pronoun, I do not believe God is male. I believe that God carries all genders in His nature. However, I am comfortable with thinking of God as my “heavenly father.” And to say things like “God doesn’t impose Godself on…” is extremely awkward. I just stick with the masculine pronoun. Let me add that I frequently call God Mother, Creator, Source, and Universe also.
These are things that we are taught about God, by the church and/or by “conventional” faith.
God is a sort of “super human,” bigger than we are, smarter and more powerful than we are, as offendable and violent and vindictive as we are. He sits on His throne in the sky with zapper in hand, ready to let us have it if we make a misstep. He is a kind of benevolent dictator, loving and favoring us as long as we come up to His standards, ferocious and mean if we mess up. Even if we do our best to obey Him, He might still inflict terrible suffering on us “for our own good” if that is His will. And on top of all that we will be condemned to hell for eternity.
My own church teaches me that God is perfection itself, and we are horrendously imperfect. Perfection cannot live with imperfection. In other words, He loves us and can’t stand us all in the same moment. Theoretically, then, we are destined to spend eternity in hell, where we are far away from the perfection of God. But He still loves us, so He made a way out for us. Because Jesus died for our sins on the cross, we are saved. All we have to do is believe that Jesus did this, and we can go to heaven.
This all puts God outside of us, gives us a feeling of isolation from Him. And it leaves us with a tormenting question: He knows all, does all, and loves all, but we can’t explain how or why God allows such enormous suffering among His children.
I used to believe most of that stuff myself. I don’t any more. I am not trying to be arrogant; I just had an experience, almost 30 years ago, that taught me another way to look at God. It just happens to take me beyond the traditional faith that I was taught and into other paths. I came away from this experience knowing that I was loved greatly by this Being, that I wanted to get as close to this Being as I possibly could and stay there for the rest of my life, and that He is far above us and much vaster than we can grasp.
I know now that God loves me absolutely and unconditionally. There is a Mt. Everest somewhere, made of love that is all for me; when I use that love, it grows. There is no reason at all for God to single me out and give me such love (I totally fail to merit it), which tells me that I am not special and that He must love everyone the same way He loves me. He doesn’t favor any one of us over another, for He loves each of us. And everyone has his or her own Mt. Everest somewhere.
I went nowhere during this experience; it was an internal epiphany. That tells me that God is within me. He always has been. So much for His inability to be close to my imperfections! (Since that night, I have had other experiences that confirmed this conclusion.)
Because God is so vast and incomprehensible, we might as well stop arguing among ourselves about His true nature, what He wants, how He should be worshiped, etc. We all misunderstand God. One person’s misunderstanding is no better or worse than another person’s misunderstanding. No set of rules is superior to any other set of rules. There are countless ways to get to God, just as there are many roads that lead to New York City or San Francisco.
Because He loves each of us absolutely and unconditionally, He doesn’t care if we are male or female, black or white, gay or straight, Democrat or Republican. Dare I say it? Roman Catholic, Presbyterian, Methodist, or Assembly of God. Christian, Buddhist, Jewish, or Muslim.
So what has pushed me in this new direction? I’m not a theologian. I can’t quote the Bible chapter and verse. I’m just a laywoman who has been transformed. Now all my beliefs and ideas about things of God are filtered through that transformative experience. The faith I was taught as a child no longer makes sense to me in the light of what that experience taught me. That’s all there is to it.
The reason I have gone on at such length here is that I observe that many people are afraid of God. I am here to say that we are loved, and we have nothing to be afraid of. I met that Love. I know it. I am loved absolutely. And I trust that Love absolutely. So can anyone else.
Stay tuned.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Psalm One
I rarely worry about what people think of me, and I am gradually learning to just walk away from the question for good. Actually, there have been ways in which I never much cared…and others in which I did, deeply. Ego has wanted some things connected with the issue of how others see me, the kind of personal or professional reputation I have. Well, personal is not as important now as it used to be, and this direction of growth slowly deepens. My profession and I didn’t like each other when all was said and done, so I have no profession and, obviously, no professional reputation to worry about. While the question still comes up from an ego standpoint, it does so less frequently and less powerfully than it used to.
With that being said, it occurred to me one day recently to wonder if people think about me as being like the tree in the first Psalm, calmly and strongly overcoming drought. Going by things I’ve heard people say, I just found myself wondering about it. I don’t know where the thought came from. It may have been ego – I honestly couldn’t tell – and it may have been just a framework for reflecting on this Psalm. Whichever, I am using it to reflect on this Psalm.
Here is my own inelegant and mildly feminist paraphrase of Psalm 1: “Blessed is she who seeks wisdom, avoids the ungodly, doesn’t sin, and isn’t scornful. Her delight is in God’s law, and she meditates on it 24/7. She’s like a tree by a river, fruitful in season, unharmed by drought, always prosperous. The ungodly are fluff blown by the wind, and they cannot stand near judgment or righteousness. The righteous stand; the ungodly perish.”
I’ve always been attracted to this Psalm. I’m not sure why. I think I just like the picture of the tree and the river. The tree is always prosperous, fruitful, even overcoming drought. (I can’t say that I study the Bible 24/7. And I don't dare to say that I never do anything wrong.)
As the tree in the Psalm stretches its roots down toward the water, I stretch my spiritual roots each day toward the Source that nourishes me. That’s simply our instinct, to reach out for God – however we understand God to be – for strength and wisdom.
I am in a drought, as far as material considerations are concerned. I struggle with fear of poverty and isolation as I face the coming of old age. I deal with frustration at my job situation; the only job I can find is 53 miles away from home and pays minimum wage, and I have just gone back after a four-week layoff. (And there is no guarantee that I will avoid being laid off again.) If I look like I’m coping well, I can tell you bluntly that it doesn’t feel that way.
But if that is how others see me, my witness must be fairly good even though it doesn’t reflect my feelings. That would make sense. You rarely see yourself the way others see you. So maybe I do have some resemblance to that tree. We all need feedback from others about how well we do – or do not – walk our talk. There are several ways in which I know I don’t walk my talk very well; I also believe there are some ways in which I do. I won’t try to say which of those is stronger; that is between God and me anyway. I just work to do my best each day.
The only thing I may do differently is to continue to reach out for God even when I’m not in a drought. Because to me, prayer is about relationship with God, not shopping lists. I don’t need to “need” something in order to want to pray.
So if I happen to look like I’m flourishing in a drought, that is probably the explanation. I don’t mean to take credit for it. That’s just how it is.
I don’t know how that tree feels about it, but there’s my take on the question.
With that being said, it occurred to me one day recently to wonder if people think about me as being like the tree in the first Psalm, calmly and strongly overcoming drought. Going by things I’ve heard people say, I just found myself wondering about it. I don’t know where the thought came from. It may have been ego – I honestly couldn’t tell – and it may have been just a framework for reflecting on this Psalm. Whichever, I am using it to reflect on this Psalm.
Here is my own inelegant and mildly feminist paraphrase of Psalm 1: “Blessed is she who seeks wisdom, avoids the ungodly, doesn’t sin, and isn’t scornful. Her delight is in God’s law, and she meditates on it 24/7. She’s like a tree by a river, fruitful in season, unharmed by drought, always prosperous. The ungodly are fluff blown by the wind, and they cannot stand near judgment or righteousness. The righteous stand; the ungodly perish.”
I’ve always been attracted to this Psalm. I’m not sure why. I think I just like the picture of the tree and the river. The tree is always prosperous, fruitful, even overcoming drought. (I can’t say that I study the Bible 24/7. And I don't dare to say that I never do anything wrong.)
As the tree in the Psalm stretches its roots down toward the water, I stretch my spiritual roots each day toward the Source that nourishes me. That’s simply our instinct, to reach out for God – however we understand God to be – for strength and wisdom.
I am in a drought, as far as material considerations are concerned. I struggle with fear of poverty and isolation as I face the coming of old age. I deal with frustration at my job situation; the only job I can find is 53 miles away from home and pays minimum wage, and I have just gone back after a four-week layoff. (And there is no guarantee that I will avoid being laid off again.) If I look like I’m coping well, I can tell you bluntly that it doesn’t feel that way.
But if that is how others see me, my witness must be fairly good even though it doesn’t reflect my feelings. That would make sense. You rarely see yourself the way others see you. So maybe I do have some resemblance to that tree. We all need feedback from others about how well we do – or do not – walk our talk. There are several ways in which I know I don’t walk my talk very well; I also believe there are some ways in which I do. I won’t try to say which of those is stronger; that is between God and me anyway. I just work to do my best each day.
The only thing I may do differently is to continue to reach out for God even when I’m not in a drought. Because to me, prayer is about relationship with God, not shopping lists. I don’t need to “need” something in order to want to pray.
So if I happen to look like I’m flourishing in a drought, that is probably the explanation. I don’t mean to take credit for it. That’s just how it is.
I don’t know how that tree feels about it, but there’s my take on the question.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Back At Work!
It was almost a comedown. After being laid off, and getting strongly supportive letters of reference from my employers, and sending an email to all my friends asking for prayer support, and applying for unemployment insurance, and trying to get a part-time job through a government program…I was called back.
By now, as I reflect on my first week back, it feels as though I had never left. It was good to see the people there again. Needless to say, it’s good to be earning my way again. But I realize that I was beginning to get seriously tired of some features of what I do for this company, and they are all still there.
Why do I say this was almost a comedown? Because I was looking ahead. Strengthening my spiritual practice. Seeking work that would make more of a difference in people’s lives. Using my time and energies for creative projects such as making an arrangement of an old hymn. It was a relief to be able to have time and energy for such things again. I had supposed they would call me back eventually, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Going back this soon felt like looking backward instead of forward.
So now I am left with saying: “Somehow, I will do these things anyway.”
Somehow is about how it feels, so far. But then, this is just the first week. I’m sure I will need some time to settle in. I race to make an hour or so in the evening for some piano practice, or some writing time, or – my goodness gracious – some meditation time. And a couple of weeks ago I had all the time I could have wanted for such things. I trust I will settle in here too.
And with all that said, there is a chance that I’ll be laid off again in a few weeks. My job consists of working on a specific project for a specific client of this company I work for, and the entire history of the project has featured unpredictability. We never know what is going to happen when. But there is also talk of training me on something new, which sounds like they are going to do their best to keep me around for a while.
I’m glad to be working. I enjoy the people I work with. The long commute gives me time for a lot of thinking and reflecting that goes on under the surface. That is good for me, however difficult it may be for my car and my gasoline budget.
So far, however, the whole scene feels like a huge exercise in surrender. Or detachment, if you prefer to use that word instead. Whatever you call it, it’s letting go. It’s doing the best I can there each day – and then coming home and doing the best I can here as well – and letting go of all the rest of it. So far, I would say it has all been sort of uneven, but it should improve as time goes along.
After all, somehow I will do it.
Somehow.
By now, as I reflect on my first week back, it feels as though I had never left. It was good to see the people there again. Needless to say, it’s good to be earning my way again. But I realize that I was beginning to get seriously tired of some features of what I do for this company, and they are all still there.
Why do I say this was almost a comedown? Because I was looking ahead. Strengthening my spiritual practice. Seeking work that would make more of a difference in people’s lives. Using my time and energies for creative projects such as making an arrangement of an old hymn. It was a relief to be able to have time and energy for such things again. I had supposed they would call me back eventually, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Going back this soon felt like looking backward instead of forward.
So now I am left with saying: “Somehow, I will do these things anyway.”
Somehow is about how it feels, so far. But then, this is just the first week. I’m sure I will need some time to settle in. I race to make an hour or so in the evening for some piano practice, or some writing time, or – my goodness gracious – some meditation time. And a couple of weeks ago I had all the time I could have wanted for such things. I trust I will settle in here too.
And with all that said, there is a chance that I’ll be laid off again in a few weeks. My job consists of working on a specific project for a specific client of this company I work for, and the entire history of the project has featured unpredictability. We never know what is going to happen when. But there is also talk of training me on something new, which sounds like they are going to do their best to keep me around for a while.
I’m glad to be working. I enjoy the people I work with. The long commute gives me time for a lot of thinking and reflecting that goes on under the surface. That is good for me, however difficult it may be for my car and my gasoline budget.
So far, however, the whole scene feels like a huge exercise in surrender. Or detachment, if you prefer to use that word instead. Whatever you call it, it’s letting go. It’s doing the best I can there each day – and then coming home and doing the best I can here as well – and letting go of all the rest of it. So far, I would say it has all been sort of uneven, but it should improve as time goes along.
After all, somehow I will do it.
Somehow.
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