Fragile Power

With apologies for continuing the metaphor...

As I emerge from this transformation, just as the butterfly begins to open its wings, there is an sense of unknowing that lives just above the level of abject terror that arises from within. There is nothing in my memory as a caterpillar that has anything to do with wings, let alone flying. This new body seems far less rugged, in fact it feels frail, thin and vulnerable. And I have lost that voracious appetite for any and all things.

Yes - it is kind of like that. Only I can't seem to connect with the DNA that would instruct my wings to work yet and I've yet to experience a gentle wind that would lift me off this branch I seem to be so desperately clinging to. Perhaps I am not suited for butterfly life. Worm life was simple: eat, shed, grow, repeat, eat, shed, grow. This life seems not only fragile but finite. Something in me knows that there is not a next step after this form. And most certainly there is no way back.

But there must be some power in these wings. If only I can figure out how to use them I might begin to see what this branch is attached to and where it is in the bigger picture. With the power of wings I can see well more than the ground or leaves I walked on. I think that might be a great new perspective. But this fragile new power is very much an oxymoron. I have no clue what Paul meant by, "When I am weak, I am strong." Though I think it is dawning on me that "I have died and something else is living in me."

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?

The Purpose of Religion

It would appear as I ask this question that the world is divided into a few camps on the purpose and relevance of religion. What got me here was an intensive course on Max Sackhouse's in-depth coverage of "God and Globalization" or the theological and moral basis of of global business. Max's camp would seem to believe that religions inform societies' meaning-making by establishing the values, morals and ethics by which those societies operate. He contends that, in fact, all societies are based in religious beliefs (even lumping Marxist/Communist countries in under that umbrella). So to Stackhouse the real purpose of religion is to define the rights and wrongs for societies so that they might come together and work together with some mutuality.

There are those also whose belief seems to be that the purpose of religion is to scare people into submission. These people hold a Machiavellian belief that the rich and powerful created dogma and doctrine to oppress the masses, and while there have been periods of history where that appears to be true, I do not think that over time this is a true purpose. To be sure religion is powerful and power will corrupt. So there have been Pastors and Popes who have sought personal gain from the institution of religion. But these are aberrations.

Yet a third camp feels that religion's purpose is to assuage the pain of being human just living this broken life. Life is pain and we seem to have evolved to this place where pain is neither allowed nor accepted as part of it. So religion comes to the rescue like some great vile of Prozac or Percoset (I don't know which is worse). Prayer and meditation are supposed to place you in the loving arms of the benevolent who will make it all better. Or at least that what it seems like from this side.

Then there is this little island of people (I audaciously assume that there are others) who believe that the purpose of religion is to teach and develop - actually, to provide the tools that teach and develop us as humans on this wacky trip of life. From this perspective, I admit that life is pain (and joy, yes, but lots of nasty painful things happen) and I admit that there are forces and powers far greater than we are and with each of these we must cope, no doubt. How? That is the operative question. Unlike Stackhouse, I do not believe that any religion can map out all of the scenarios that provide a handy dandy rule book of right/wrong. So into the gray and unknown and painful and powerful we venture - but not alone. Taken as lessons, the pains, our "sins" or our foibles, the forces of nature can be seen as things that teach us who we are and how we are to be with each other. Failure is the greatest teacher - think of it. And Jesus, as far as I can tell, never once got mad at or chastized a "sinner" or a fallen person or someone caught doing something "wrong.". The only people he called out were the self-righteous!

Sacred texts are most often inclusive of confusing and contradictory stories. Of course they all contain the obligatory short list of do's and don'ts but the bulk of them are life stories of men and women struggling into the void of not knowing - not, however, as examples - but as case studies meant to force our thinking to adapt. Like the koan, most of these stories don't have an obvious answer. They force us to think. And that I believe is the real purpose of religion - to force us and guide us to thinking and acting in an ever-adaptive and spiritually grounded way. It is not the easy interpretation (rules are a lot simpler way - just tell me what to do) but it works for me.