Unpacking The Lord's Prayer

Somewhere before Matthew and Luke was most likely a text that was the source of their common threads, but we'll never see it. So extrapolating from these two storytellers as to what may/must have been said requires more than a literalist view of the two texts' recounting this often repeated prayer (for which most of us seem to have defaulted to Matthew). But the question I have pondered so many times is not “what exactly did Jesus say” but rather, “what was his intent in this teaching?” So despite not having an imprimatur of any religious organization, I am finally going to take a crack at what this itinerant country preacher may have intended for his audience to understand about prayer.

In order to attempt this we first need to understand two things about the speaker, Yeshua of Nazareth, whose name we Anglicized as Jesus. First of all, while there is no evidence that he was formally trained as a Rabbi, Jesus clearly had a good handle on the sacred texts, quoting frequently and selectively from them to make his points. He is, from most of what we can extrapolate from all of these stories, at all times very intentional and consistent about his message, his context and his intent.

Jesus declared himself a “jubilee” messenger – referring to the Deuteronomic rule (Deut. 15:1-11) that every seventh of the seven year periods (that is, every 50^th year) is to be a Jubilee year, marked by forgiving all debts, freeing all prisoners, caring for the poor, the widows and the children – using a reference to the same from the book of Isaiah (Is. 61:1-2). However, true to his philosophy, Jesus intentionally left out the last phrase of the passage dealing with vengeance. Jesus was very intentional. He never refers to the wrath or vengeance of God, but rather only refers to the healing, loving and forgiving nature of God. He used scriptures and events to teach a specific message, and that message is the second part of our understanding his contextual framework.

Jesus’ message through all of his teaching was a revolutionary understanding of God, the nature of God, and the nature of “God’s kingdom.” Kingdoms were plentiful in ancient times, and mapped out a domain of influence for each king. Jesus used this metaphor as a way of describing his theological foundation: God was not elsewhere – apart from us, ruling over us – but rather was very real and present, in and among all of us. “The kingdom of God is at hand,” he would say, “as you are in me and I am in them and they in me.” He had a unitive theology; that all things were one and united by the same loving force, like one big family. We are inseparable from God but likewise God is inseparable from us. In an age where Gods were thought to reside on a mountain or in the center of the temple, Jesus taught that God not only belonged to all but was resident in all. So let’s see if we can see his understanding of the scripture and his theology evident in this prayer.

Right from the outset, he changes the game, calling God, “father” (implying the one big family). Matthew’s text even adds the descriptor, “our” (like all of ours, not just some of us). And some translations refer to the idea that he used the word “abba,” the familiar form of father: “daddy.” This was not the El Shaddai of old, nor was it the king who lorded over us like some benevolent master. It was intentionally familiar, familial and personal. And least we get all bound up by the masculinist term of father/daddy (as opposed to mother), let’s look at the role of parents in Judea at that time. Parents were fairly equal, though different, long ago. There was clear understanding that both mother and father were necessary and equally important. Fathers typically taught the trades and mothers taught the values of life. Both were essential. So why father then? Because father’s role was to teach purpose – how and what to do to be a contributor in life. And to be certain a father was not absent – off at work – as in modern times. Dads were always present, in the home, working at the house and very present. A father was meant to be purposeful, helpful and always present.

But what then are we to make of the reference to heaven? Doesn’t that connote the sky kingdom and the sky god? Not if you take a further look at how Jesus defines heaven. Heaven is not out there, not some future destination. Heaven is right here, right now. Heaven is among us and. He even goes so far as to say that it is “within you” (Lk. 17:20-21). So this daddy, this teacher, was a very present member of the community, of the family and of life in the present moment. Jesus’ intent was to demystify the concept of God; to make God real and present and palpable.

“Holy (sacred, blessed) is your name.” If we now understand God to be within the very life we are living, Jesus is calling that sacred. Life is sacred and holy. But remember that, as a Jew, Jesus learned that one could not say/speak the name of God, not because of its specialness, but because once anything was named it became separated – by name – from anything that was not that thing. Speaking the name of God would be suggesting that God was some thing, some entity, apart from other things, and certainly apart from us. That is the most sacred aspect of God; that God, being a very real and present aspect of everything, was inseparable from anything – that God was everything and everywhere. That is what holy and blessed really means.

“Thy kingdom come.” Then Jesus returns back to his core theological construct: The kingdom is

here, there and everywhere, and that life-intent that is God is already in action in every element of all creation (on earth and heaven). It seems obvious at this point that Jesus simply means “god is here, among us, already, right now.” Enough said! But here comes the one-two punch!

The first hit refers back to a scriptural reference. Jesus reminds his followers not to take more than enough. The reference to “daily bread” comes from the story of manna in the desert. The Israelites were wandering in the desert and supplies were low, so the story goes. In answer to their hunger and prayers, their God provides something bread-like that appears in the morning like dew. But it came with a rule: take only enough for one day. If anyone took more than a day’s supply, it rotted and would become toxic to them. The hoarders actually died. God’s rule of abundance is that “enough” is all you need. So Jesus’ reference to that story is a reminder (not a request) to the pray-er (not the one prayed to) that we only need “enough.”

And right on the heels of that is the knock-out punch about how forgiveness works. It seems to be a bit of a tricky turn of the phrase, but the pivotal word is “as” – “forgive us as we forgive others.” For most of my life I heard that phrase as a meritocracy: when I forgive enough others, I get to be forgiven, or if I forgive others I will be forgiven. But that was never a part of Jesus’ teaching. Or I thought it may have been some hold-over of the eye-for-an-eye morality of the Greeks in the area. But in fact, just the opposite was Jesus’ message: that you are already, and always forgiven. The nature of this loving God, that is love and life itself, is that you will always be forgiven – even before you think to ask for forgiveness. Remember the story of the Prodigal Son? The passage reads that, before the son was able to even ask his father for forgiveness, “while he was still a long way off” his father saw him, had compassion for him and “ran out to embrace him and kiss him.” God’s forgiveness is not dependent on our having done it first. But knowing Jesus’ understanding of the presence of God, god’s forgiveness is part and parcel with our forgiveness. God-in-us forgives us through each other – it’s how God is made manifest. It is seeing the God in the other as we forgive them or they forgive us. That is God’s love visibly in action!

And in conclusion… Jesus ends his prayer instruction with the oddest phrase of them all, “lead us not into temptation” or in other translations “deliver us from the test.” Jesus taught that the purpose of prayer was that it altered the pray-er (your father already knows what is in your heart). So what might he have meant with the reference to temptation. I have a couple of theories that may explain this one. First of all, the time he spent in the desert before starting his ministry is still fresh in Jesus’ mind. He clearly felt led into his path of teaching and healing. Could he have felt led into that time that tested his spirit and was hoping that others might not have to endure the same?

Many exegetes note how fond Jesus was of the Psalms, and certainly the Psalms are a part of every Shabbat service. The Psalms are rife with references of being put to the test and of being tempted (mostly by wealth and power). The Psalmist seemed to wrestle with his own temptation and the fear that God might turn away because of his weakness or, worse yet, that God would put him to the test! That being the case, Jesus might have been drawing on a common theme from worship.

Now Matthew may have a different take on the prayer and adds the element of evil (or in some translations “the evil one”). But that does not fit with the teachings and philosophy of Jesus. It may well be an editorial comment either added because Matthew wanted to appeal to the cultural norms of the people to whom he was writing. Or it may have been added by a later editor as part of the doctrine of the church of the time (a practice that happened with all sacred texts throughout time).

But more in keeping with my hypothesis that Jesus felt that the prayer was more about how one prayed (more to alter the pray-er than to bend the divine ear) he may have included that line as a last piece of training. “Master, teach us how to pray,” may not have been answered by this teacher with a rote formula. More likely he may have said something to the effect of, “It’s not what you say but who and how you are when you say it! Remember, God is already in you, and in me. God has already given you all you need. God has already forgiven before you could even recall the sin. And this God, would never, ever lead you astray!” Amen.

Be Careful What You Ask For

Years ago a friend and mentor told me that every day he said a kind of prayer to know God's will for him. He said it with full earnestness, and then one day he was smacked right in the face with a challenge that was way bigger than he had ever imagined. It became his job but he told me, "Be careful what you ask for - you just might get it."

I have been asking for a way to learn how to stay vulnerable while doing the work for which I trained throughout my adult life. It turns out that there isn't really a way to learn it - like there is no step one then step two. Nor is there a way to just put one's big toe into the pool of vulnerability to test the water temperature. It appears to me that vulnerability, as a state of being, either is something you are
or you aren't. It's kind of like being pregnant - there is no such thing as somewhat pregnant. And my lesson of late is that it is the same with vulnerability. You either are or you are not.

So it has come to the point where I must jump into the deep end of the pool and decide to live this way. There is no other choice - I cannot turn back and and stay defended and closed any longer. It is no longer a choice I will make. And what has opened up the deep end to me is that I had to let go of the fear of "what will people think?" The answer came pretty clearly to me over the last few days of training in which I have been participating: They will think I am being vulnerable. And overall that is not such a bad thing.

Brene Brown says that vulnerability without boundaries is not vulnerability. It's stupidity! So it's not like choosing to be vulnerable and live life from a more transparent stand means walking around naked all day or through a tough neighborhood alone at night. It means creating safe places and conditions for vulnerability to live and pull us all together. And with that it means knowing that home and among friends are some of those places. At least it is where I am starting. And the more I practice that with the ones I love and trust, the more I am able to know how to bring it to life in the public world. Wish me luck!

On "Losing it All"

The graduation address at ANTS this year was drawn from the book "The Things They Carried" that (among other themes) described the characters of the story by the objects they had with them in combat - from canteens to pictures and bibles. We tend so often to define ourselves and our lives through the things we have, the things we own or, perhaps more accurately the things that begin to own us. At least I do - that is until a few weeks ago when became apparent that all of those things were about to become dust, ashes, memories, and lost.

I just lost a very big gamble - a company for which we had borrowed a lot of money to launch. In failing, all of that investment was lost, flushed right down the proverbial toilet, and lost. Well not entirely lost inasmuch as I still remain accountable to repay the vast amount of money borrowed in the first place.  But what went down with that company was a set of dreams, hopes, vacations, and a whole lifestyle we had hoped on in our retirement. Gone. Poof! In a matter of just a few weeks all of that was no longer something that I had - and now is something that has me.

In my meditations I am looking for the release - looking for the sense of nothingness and freedom that having nothing and owing a lot carries with it. And I find that I am still carrying pictures of that lost dream tucked into the band of my helmet. I am still carrying stories of what I would do if... in my duffel bag. I am still carrying all those things with me into battle. I want desperately to let go and to step into the humility of this new naked life that has been thrust on me pretty much against my will. And to tell the truth, I am not there yet.

Yesterday I laid on the floor in a crucifix position, praying for God to take my ego away.  "Go ahead - rip it out of my chest," I shouted out to the air that might be listening. And the only response I heard was a whisper that seemed to say, "When you are ready, you'll let go of it. It is the only thing standing between you and me."  Damn it, God, why do you have to be so right! Why don't you just let me wrestle you like your boy Israel instead of messing with my mind? Beat me fair and square instead of making it my job to surrender!

Then again, maybe that is what this losing it all is about. Being beaten at my own game.

Trust Fall

I am currently reading The Ascent of Mount Carmel by John of the Cross; the book in which he outlines the steps and process of the dark night of the soul.  John's description of the way in which one "prepares" for this journey toward god is huge - and risky!  Think of the preparation this way: you cannot be intimate (you know sexually intimate) by yourself - it takes two to do that tango!  But what you can do it prepare yourself for intimacy.  You can adopt the "position" of intimacy - open, vulnerable, hungry and waiting.  And to increase the sensuousness of it all you could even close your eyes and let your lover "surprise" your senses.  Love is a giant game of "Trust Fall."  Close your eyes, fold your arms over your chest, tuck your chin, lean back over the cliff, and let yourself fall into the arms of your lover.

John is saying somewhat the same thing about achieving intimacy with god.  You cannot do this willfully on your own.  But you need to adopt the position of readiness. That position, he says, is that you need to starve your senses, and get to a place of total not-knowing, because any thought that you might have about god or the experience of god is in the way of actually experiencing god this time and the next time, and so on.  Any sensation you have a longing for and any "knowing of what that connection may have felt like before, if still present inside you, will be looking to stuff this next encounter into that same wonderful place.

And god refuses admission to any of those boxes.  God cannot be described, containerized or labeled by any human classification system.  So all our thoughts and feelings have to be stripped away (and they do not go quietly) so that however and whatever is next in the smorgasbord of god-encounters can manifest however and whenever it manifests.

Now here is the thing we need to get: god is already and always there/here inside and with us.  And it is really all of our thoughts, emotions, feelings and memories (including the very moment we have one) of our encounter, our touching, that awareness that get in the way of having that awareness. Close your eyes and lean back!

In Whose Eyes

I have been observing the function of focus lately in an attempt to see how focusing on certain things altered the experience of them – in particular how focusing on the divine altered the experience of life.   The great news is that doing that, like focusing on beauty or seeing love in others, has a marvelous effect.  Suddenly the entire world looks sacred and holy.

In addition it was my intent to actively choose this focus – to see if I could constantly focus on the Divine.  Now, while all of us have that part of the brain that concentrates our focus on foreground, relegating all else to background (a function of the RAS or reticular activating system), actively choosing to focus on this or that more intensely engages the RAS and its focusing function.  When suddenly, in the middle of my mental conversation, it hit me how arrogant and ego-centric it was to assume that my choosing made the sacred appear!  It was not my choosing at all but the fact that God, had already chosen me – all of us – and that was what had made it sacred in the first place. 

I cannot pretend for a moment that I am choosing God – God has already, always chosen me.  And there is nothing in my choosing that can alter that, except that I forget and turn away from time to time.  But each time I turn back, there is God waiting, accepting, and welcoming me back, just as I am.  So while I do have a choice (whether to look away or toward God’s light) it is not my choosing that makes it so.  It is that God has – long before you or I ever had this thought – chosen us, in the very act of giving us this life to live. And in God’s “eyes” we are enough; holy and sacred; all we need to be; God’s very creation in 3D.

The thought suddenly relaxed me – like my shoulders dropped about six inches from their tensed up position – as if it was all a huge effort I had to do.  It isn’t.  It is quite easy. Just shut up and accept the gift (I am not good at receiving gifts – I’m much better at giving, I think).  Oh, I am certain I will forget this lesson and turn away, but as it always has been, all I have to do is turn back and remember, effortlessly, and there it is.  I think this is what others have called surrender.

Substitutionary Atonement!

In seminary we learn a whole lot of fun terminology that only theologians use! One of my personal favorites is “substitutionary atonement.” It basically boils down to the concept that because Jesus died for our sins we have been saved that horrible punishment – that we are rescued. But on this resurrection day, I would like to push back on that concept a bit.

It is not so much that I am contending that Jesus did not die for us, but rather the belief that it saved us from death or was the source of our forgiveness. Now before you brand me a heretic, let me explain. We are already and have always been forgiven.  God – who is love – has caused that from the beginning.  It was one of Jesus’ main messages; he was continually saying that we are forgiven. In healing an illness or human error, no matter how egregious, his proclamation was, “you are forgiven; go and sin no more.” That is the given condition with God – you are forgiven; you are loved and accepted, just the way you are.  It did not take the crucifixion to get that grace. Furthermore, since we have come from God and will return to God in our passing, we have that as a given from the very beginning of time – we are already, always God’s creation and inextricably bound up in the Divine from the beginning until the end of all time. We may not know what it looks like, but it is a given. It didn’t take the crucifixion to gain that.

So I don’t celebrate Jesus life and death because of substitutionary atonement.  In fact, I don’t really call it a celebration, personally, because it scares me to no end.  You see, the other message Jesus was always preaching (along with love and forgiveness) was that we were to “follow” him. What? To the cross?

Yes. All the way there and beyond. The crucifixion of Jesus is a total game-changer. In all my studies (I am a life-long student still in college in my 60’s) I have found that there are only two things that have to power to transform human beings: unconditional love and extreme suffering.  Loving unconditionally (that is, because you choose to love not because of the other person’s “worthiness” of love) we are turned inside-out. It is perhaps the hardest thing in life to do – to BE love.  And that other thing – the suffering thing – well we all know that it changes everything; if and when we survive it!  And in one fell swoop, Jesus, this man who said “follow me,” did both of those things: He loved (not just us, or his friends and family, but even those who were in the process of killing him) completely and unconditionally, so much so that he was willing to suffer the ultimate suffering to make that point. 

But he did not do that so that we did not have to.  He did it as he did everything, so that we would know the path to transformation.  And this new way of being – on the other side of the death of substitutionary atonement – is what we might call true Christianity; loving in a way that heals the hurts, in a way that bridges the gaps, and in a way that pulls everyone into the fold, irrespective of their human condition, skin color, religion, sexuality or politic.  It is why I cry every Good Friday – not because Jesus died, but because I am called to go down that same path, and there is no escape clause!

Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

As I sit here and contemplate what course or courses I wish to take in seminary as I return (yet again) in the fall, I am faced with a huge dilemma: to what end? I have often contended I study religion for sport! I love it and literally nothing fascinates me more than the question of what people (myself included) believe in. They are among the strongest held and most polarizing beliefs we have. And yet it feels like I need to have a reason. Actually - truth be told - I want to have a reason.

I am now 63 and officially retired from full-time consulting - my livelihood of the past three decades - and yet I am still hungry. I continually ask myself if I have done what I was sent here to do. And I do not know the answer.  I know (because I have been told) that I am among the best psychometrists in the business. I love cracking the code of a diagnostic test and seeing it come to life for my client. It is my gift and I have used it well over the years.

But men of my age are not supposed to be asking "is that all?"  We are told to be content with life and what we have accomplished by now. And I am - - sort of.  But there is this nagging voice in my head and churning in the pit of my stomach that continually point me toward spirituality and some form of ministry - not church-based ministry, but the kind of ministry that assists, guides and helps others struggling with their spirituality as I continually do.

Struggling with spirituality is not the best term but I have no other.  I do not mean by that phrase the kind of struggles that search for a belief or an understanding of god or experiences of the sacred and divine. Struggling with deep spirituality comes from a deep and profound connection with the divine that walks and talks with that power (sometimes figuratively but often literally) yet has no clue of what to do with and because of that connection.

Carolyn Myss says that I might have to be content living at the end of my little cul-de-sac in life bringing my light to that street.  She says that maybe that is all that is required of ones spiritual connection - just to be a light in the world. Period. Nothing else. No other reason. End of story. And it is my ego that wants to make something significant out of what I feel. Maybe.

But as I head back to the hill this fall, I will be looking for a way to shine in other corners, on other streets, in other ways. And I still have not a single clue. God wants us on god's terms, in god's service, not ours, not mine. So again I have to surrender will. Again I have to seek understanding. Again I have to see if there are others who feel like this - because I know there is no denomination I have yet explored that describes the truth I feel and experience.

How can I feel so connected and yet so lost?

Discernment

Through both my formal learning in psychology and my continued education, growth and development I have come to ascribe to a school of thought called "constructivism." Essentially what that translates to is that I believe that we are only capable of seeing or hearing and conceptualizing that which fits within and can be described by our current level of education, training, experience and social context. Specifically that means that all thought we have come from the same pool of thoughts we have always had and can be described using only the vocabulary we have available to us at the time. Though this may sound like harmless psychobabble its impact on issues of justice and discernment of "God's will" are monumental. It is for that reason that the power elite cannot effectively enact matters of justice because of the very fact that all matters are seen through their lens of the host culture that causes the oppression in the first place. But in accurately discerning God's will we may be even more suspect. There is a story of Francis of Assisi who it is said heard God telling him, "Francis, rebuild my church." So, gathering his monks around, they set out to find the most broken down church and rebuilt its roof. A second time Francis asked God what He wanted him to do and again heard "Francis, rebuild my church." So Francis and the monks repeated the process - and a third time as well. It was not until Francis heard the same instruction a fourth time that he understood his mission to reform the Catholic church of the time. My continual concern is that well-intentioned and prayerful people (and even church leaders) mistake what they think they are hearing as a message from God when all they ever get is a confirmation of their existing mental paradigm. Naturally that message would be supportive of the existing structure and understanding. What they hear may (or may not) be a message from God but it gets filtered, interpreted and expressed through the only limited perspective that person has. History is filled with examples of how one group after another has inflicted injustice on others in the name of what they thought they heard or understood. That notwithstanding, this is amplified when we realize that not every word of the bible is "God's word." Much of what we read in the bible is "man's word" and at that it may not even be God-inspired. Research indicated that great portions of the gospels and whole books of the Torah have been written by religious leaders of the time to suit their particular agenda. That does not mean it isn't sacred literature that has endured the test of time, (take Deuteronomy for example) it just means that it is not outside the realm of possibility that what you are reading might just be someone's personal point of view. Perhaps the Desert Monks had the best approach by living in retreat for long enough to eradicate the noise of their own mind's experience to be able to let in the still small voice of God. But preachers who hammer on a vendetta of hate and exclusion and claim discernment as their source will never convince me that they listened to or heard anything divine.

Love and Evil

My daughter - the real deal - posted a very moving message on the problem of evil in reaction to a tragic event in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. This is what I said in response.

Long ago and far away I was a Child Protection Caseworker for the VT Department of Social Services. Though my stint was short lived, because of the nature of the work, I witnessed horrors that humans can inflict on each other. Not nameless, faceless strangers lurking in the bushes - fathers, and uncles and mothers, brutalizing and molesting their own. I left because of the violent nightmares of what I would do if anyone should harm one of my daughters. The dreams would make Saw and Chuckie and Freddy cringe.

The evil that lives inside each of us is horrible. As a peace seeking and nonviolent man, I embarrassingly admit that chromosome is part of my DNA as well. We (I) endanger ourselves and others when we egotistically deny its presence. Its roots run deep in our heritage.

Think of it like this: in the history of humanity there has never been an era that was devoid of war - sometimes global, often regional, but always there killing and thinning the ranks of the human species. And who do you think survived through all those wars, the nice and the gentle ones? Hardly! The survivors, and the progenitors of us all were the conquering tribes - the killers, the rapists and the raped. Violence in in our bloodstream.

But as you so wisely pointed out, that is not what beats our hearts; that is not what causes us to breathe and live on. Within us also is love - call it what you will - I name that "god." So our human genetic predisposition toward evil - not our fallenness - our natural selection in action, is confronted by our life itself. But the scary part is that we appear to have been gifted with free choice. That is the rub, as the Bard would say. Each day we either surrender to the love that lives us into being or the hate and evil that is our birthright. And when we go unconscious love often takes second place.

My prayer today is that we hold tightly onto that holy and sacred force in us, in full awareness that we must root out the other force, the evil that courses through our veins. Every great sage has said it: love conquers all; love is stronger than hate; love is all we need. May we choose love today, and tomorrow and each tomorrow after that.

I am so sad for my former colleagues and neighbors and family who, living in the "Kingdom" must face that specter today. May love rule the day.

Theist or Atheist

One of my very best friends is an atheist. He is a doctor and a scientist and prides himself in his use of logic when dealing with questions of life and meaning. Last week when our families got together for dinner we got into a discussion of beliefs – one might be tempted to call it a theological discussion. It started with a compliment on something I had written in this blog – it had made him think. And so the conversation was on.
Most of my friend’s questions about religion are wrapped up in an understanding of religion that smacks of pre-Vatican II Catholicism mixed with fundamentalist Sunday school platitudes – and, no, I do not believe in all of that. But if I don’t believe in a robed grandfatherly Michelangelo god, he asked, then who or what is god? Well, I start talking about Tillich’s concept of the ground of being and the in-dwelling force of life which is what I call god. But I cannot point to it I say. So I try to make an analogy: I ask, “Where is the life in one of your patients? Can you point to a place in the body?” How is it that at one moment the patient is alive and the next moment, still and lifeless? What happened? Was it the stress of the operation? Had he touched some life line that flipped the switch? No. Of course not. There is no place that holds life more than the other (though I suppose you could argue for the heart or the brain – but he got my point).
And that is when he pops the real question; “Are you afraid of dying? Because I am terrified of the nothingness.” Behind the question was the whole eschatological orchestration of heaven and hell and afterlife and redemption, and my friend just could not get his logic to go there. I told him that I really did not know if there was anything after death. Perhaps it just ends there for our bodies. But this life force that beats within our hearts, I believed, did continue. No, I did not believe in the resurrection of our bodily physical form – because then I would have to ask which form – my 21 year old or my 36 year old or this failing 62 year old body. My ego might want the youthful one but, I told him that it was my belief that most of the afterlife stories were the fantasies of too many men’s egos desire for special treatment. And I don’t believe in that kind of god – a god that grants favors.
I told him I felt that god was the source of life and that that force ran through all things – but that is was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You cannot point to god any more than he could point to life. And when our physical bodies die, that life force simply rejoins with the mass of universal energy that is god. He told me I sounded like an atheist (in terms of the actual definition of the word) and I told him he sounded like a believer who was missing words to describe his fears and concerns. I don’t really know, but I do know that we aren’t that far apart, that such discussions don’t scare me, and that each time we have these talks, we both feel closer as friends.

Jumping Back in the Pool

I took a semester off last spring - the official reason being that I had a truck load of work to do. But that's what I call the pretty lie not the dirty truth. The dirty truth is that last fall's course in Systematics just poked me in the eye! I walked away from the experience feeling like I belonged nowhere. I could not claim my Lutheran heritage; I certainly wasn't Calvinist or Catholic; I didn't care for the otherness of the Jewish God and couldn't adhere to the "I'm not worthy" aspect of basic Christianity as I have heard it preached. The desert fathers had something as did the Gnostics, but modern theologies seemed to be coming unglued. Nothing fit. So I went on, what we call in Men's work, a walkabout. It is a kind of desert experience outside of the village walls - an emptying and listening time. And I took notes - here's what I learned.

I am most certain that I experience, have experienced and will continue to experience the presence of god inside of me and in, through and around everything outside of me. I am certain that the teachings of Jeshua of Nazareth (or Jesus if you prefer) are not only profound but totally misunderstood by the masses of those with whom I speak. Despite that, I find them (in the way I read them) to be compelling. But I am equally convinced of the truth of the Buddha and his legacy of teachers whose words simultaneously disturb and enlighten me. And most importantly, I am convinced of the universality of those teachings and others like them - that one and only one source could cause such diverse sources to have such a common cause and message.

I cannot deny that any more than I can deny my name... or my calling to stand among the next generation of teachers, preachers and laborers in the field of spirituality. And so tomorrow I shall jump back in the pool and see if I sink or swim. It is the only way I know right now.

Divine Intervention

In one week my son will become a bar mitzvah – quite an important and unique occurrance in an interfaith marriage and I was not quite sure how I was to prepare myself to be fully present at this special event. But for the past three days I have been providing testing and career counseling to a small segment of the third generation members of a very large orthodox Jewish family business. I met with young adults with names like Shmuel, and Sorah, Reuven and Rivka; Chaim and Chana; young people who were on their way to a year in Israel or having recently completed their first, second or even fourth year studying and learning there. To a person they were bright and clear-eyed and filled with a profound spirituality. It was truly impressive – and I was deeply moved by not only the spirituality of their religious life, but by the open and effusive love they afforded each other.

We spoke openly about having been called to religious life by G-d (in respect to their tradition of not naming the Almighty) and how to integrate that into their desire to serve through a career – whether in the family business or elsewhere. While the success of the family business made nearly anything a possibility (including choosing a life dedicated to the study of Torah), all of them voiced a strong sense of responsibility to be a contribution to their family, to the family businesses, and to society.


What once appeared to me as perhaps odd or on the fringes of life, transformed before me into a rich and wonderful world. My attitudes toward the customs of orthodoxy shifted from thinking of them as almost neurotic to a kind of respect and wonder. There are deep roots to each of the actions and, like all ritual practices, each added to the richness of the individual’s experience as he prayed or studied. Because I got a chance to become intimate with these young people (psychological testing is like looking into the core of a person’s being and is about as intimate as it gets), I became immersed in their world for the time I was there. And, as is my habit, I fell in love with a whole new segment of humanity.

Yea, love. Love has this accepting, unquestioning, and unconditional quality to it that changes the lover probably more than the person who is loved. And that is really how it feels. I came here to offer my skills and services, but I was the one who was changed, opened up and moved. Oh perhaps I did my job well and helped them out on their path, but in the process, I was the one who really moved. Isn’t that always the way the Divine works?