Using the Bible

For far too long, I have been reading things on line (news reports, elected officials' quotations and FaceBook opinions) that refer in one way or another to some scriptural reference. And I thing it is time I took a stand. It seems to me that this is a gross misuse of the scripture - well, perhaps better stated, it is a gross misunderstanding of the scripture. Contrary to the 623 laws found in the Old Testament, among which are the Ten Commandments, the bible is not a book of laws, nor a code of ethics to which we should refer when troubled with a question of what to do or how to handle this and that.

To me the bible is a training ground filled with thought provoking and at (many) times conflicting and puzzling predicaments in the guise of either mythical stories or recollected chronicles of something that happened often a long time before ever being written down.  Taken as a whole it is a collection of stories designed to push one's beliefs, thoughts and values by trying to understand the real meaning and intent.  Reading the bible should cause one to reflect, puzzle over and be perplexed by the content.  But as a result of that, there exist sentences here and there - and sometimes even juxtaposed right after each other - which when lifted out of the whole could be used to justify or support any side of just about any argument. And that, unfortunately is too often what too many people have tried to do.

However, it is my belief that the bible is meant to be a tool for spiritual development, designed to disturb and push at your belief structures until you can move to a deeper understanding. But it takes a great deal of personal inner work to be able to read the bible and allow it to disturb you the way it should. Oh sure, we all say we know what the beatitudes say and mean, but do you really?  They are paradoxical at best and when one considers to whom they were spoken - the poor and oppressed of the time - they must have sounded like nonsense. Much of the master's teachings were like that. But Jesus was not the only purveyor of paradox. It is all through the entire bible - it's just how good Rabbis taught.

And that is perhaps the point of this opinion: people who have not done the inner work of the faith journey, who have not confronted and done battle with their ego will always be tempted to read passages to support their ego's opinion and justify their own actions. Like Job's defensive discourses, we are seeking to vindicate ourselves and prove we are right. But, like the beautiful myth of Job concludes, it is only when we approach sacred literature from not knowing, listening to what is there in the entire story, and then letting its contradictions and nuances sink in and knock another part of our knowing loose, that we really hear and begin to understand.

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.

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.

What Are Your "Stones?"

Here’s an interesting twist on faith as pointed out to me by a great mentor. An often overlooked tidbit in one version of the Easter story, two women were making their way to the burial site of their master early that morning apparently with the intention of anointing the body with oils and perfumes to keep it from smelling up the countryside. And one says to the other, “Who will roll away the stone?” The story goes on to have them find the task already done when they arrive – and we get caught up in the whole angel dialogue and risen lord thing.


But wait – there was the message there – right there; and we stepped over it again. You see, the women thought, “there is a big stone in the way of our practicing our faithful ritual. We want to do what is right, but, hey, we can’t because of the stone.” Ain’t that the truth! There are these big stones in the way of our faithful practices. Most of mine live in my head but some consist of things outside: social expectations, my job, family responsibilities and the like. They are big stones – heavy stones that I don’t think I can move all by myself.

And the howling error that always confronts us (me, if I am willing to tell the truth here) is that the stone is removed for us. Always! It is just gone. That's not what I think - I am certain that there are these things stopping me. And from an egocentric perspective, it appears as though there is a barrier – that there will always be some barrier that I have to muscle out of the way. But that is how I do things. I think I have to do it or it won’t get done. That is not God’s way. That is not how the Universe works and always works. There is no barrier – it has already been moved from my path. Gone. Poof! Not there! The stones are all in my head.

How heavy my head must be with all of those boulders and stones in there – all the ones I have had to move (or thought I had to) in the past and all of the ones I am ever so ready to place in my way as the necessary hurdle to make me worthy of the prize. But the prize is already ours, the stone is already removed, and the prize (surprise) is there waiting for me to come around the corner.

Whose Prayer?

Here’s another one of those thoughts that I have that may not be terribly popular. It has to do with how we pray and with the essence of prayer. And sorry - this is a bit longer than usual.

The great teacher Jeshua of Nazareth almost never answered a question directly (Another sorry, about the Josh thing. Folks tend to get flaky about his popular name if you do anything less than take him literally. So, because I am going to say something quite possibly viewed as blasphemy, I won’t use it). In fact, I read somewhere that of the nearly 200 questions put to him, he directly answered only three! Furthermore, when teaching a lesson, he invariably taught – as in he never varied from this pattern – through paradox, metaphors and parables; stories that were intentionally puzzling to the listener. Yet against this backdrop, nearly every person I know views the “Lord’s Prayer” as a discrete formula to be taken literally at face value, or at least to be memorized precisely.

Why? Why would his pattern be different for this one lesson? Remember, this is the same man who actually ridiculed formal prayer as either empty or something tantamount to show-boating. Always the consummate Rabbi, what if Joshua was staying true to form? If we suspend our literalist thinking for a moment and examine this instruction – his answer to the request, “Master, teach us to pray,” – through the lens of the other 99% of his teaching style, we just might see something else. Let’s start from the top.

“Our Father in heaven.” As he continually taught, the kingdom of god is now, here, and most importantly within you and me. Why then a reference to a heaven (elsewhere)? Might this instead be a reference to the kingdom among us and within us and not to a divided world of heaven and earth or heaven and hell? Jeshua was fervently interested in having his followers see the kingdom in the here and now. Furthermore, I am told (though I have never read the original text) that his word used for father was the child-familiar equivalent of “daddy” again suggesting that such a “heaven,” if not inside us already, may be closer and more accessible than the priests wanted us to believe. Then, almost as a wake up call he adds, “Thy kingdom come.” Might this perhaps be a declarative or even stated as a done deal? But wait, there’s more.

“Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” follows in the same vein. This is spoken into a time, not too unlike our own time, when whatever might be “god’s will” is clearly NOT being done. The truth is that human willfulness was the rule of the day (and still is). Thus this phrase and its later partner, “forgive our sins as we forgive others,” seem most surely to be a Jeshuan trap. It is more like a double trap, actually. First of all, attaching our forgiveness to our own praxis of forgiving is quite simply ludicrous. Our egos have very little ability or capacity for true forgiveness – they are too concerned with being right and better-than. But secondly, and more importantly, following a literal path we are trapped into hoping that god’s forgiveness could or should be earned by anything we do. The teacher never said either of those – in fact he always said exactly the opposite, in nearly every story, parable or teaching. You are already forgiven; you can't do anything to improve your chances; the kingdom is with(in) you.

So what could possibly be going on with this “how to” manual for prayer? There are two killer requests that need to be addressed before we answer that. “Give us our daily bread” and “Don’t put us to the test.” One of the greatest failed test stories in the bible is the manna in the desert. Our daily bread most likely refers to the daily allotment while in the desert during their flight from Egypt. The tribes were instructed to trust god and to take only enough for one day. Any more than “enough” would rot and turn poisonous, which of course, owing to our human scarcity model, was exactly what happened. Test failed!

Dare we even pray not to be put to the test – the test of our trust in god? C’mon, our very lives are an antithesis of that 24/7! How often do we free fall into our trust in the divine? I don’t know about you but I regularly trust and rely on me (and my effort, intelligence and perseverance) more than I remember to trust and rely on god.

But knowing this, our great teacher must have been lining up a litany of human errors to show us how praying should not be concerned with our human worries. What’s more, our prayer should not – cannot – be about our trying to get it right! We have not gotten it right, ever. It is almost – from this perspective – a mockery of our neediness for rules and boundaries of right and wrong (“Master, teach us the right way to pray – the only way to pray, the way that if we do it correctly, we will be assured of being better than everyone else.”) So he just stacked up a short list of our most stupid and non-spirit-filled errors, for fun! “Look guys, don’t even go there, no one can teach you how to pray, not even my cousin John. Prayer is about getting to human nothingness in order to let in the divine. Empty yourselves and you will be closer to real praying.”

Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult to teach the simplest things. It is the conundrum faced by all the great spiritual teachers (who, by the way, all used koan, metaphor and parables to confuse and get their students out of their heads). The instruction which I can most likely envision from Jeshua – to sit down, shut up and listen –would not have made good press for whomever was writing the story. So we got this… this, “Lord’s Prayer” concoction. I am beginning to seriously doubt that it was OUR lord’s prayer – ever – it is so out of context with the rest of his teaching. Unless, of course, he was following his standard formula of confusing the logic out of us. You will have to decide that one for yourself. Meanwhile, you’ll have to excuse me – I think I need to go empty my cup once more – it is too full to receive anything else!

Systematic Theology

Wow - It has been a while since I posted here, though admittedly most of these are more like my talking out loud than postings with the intent of generating tons of responses!

This semester I am in a class called Systematic Theology - subtitled perhaps "how does all of this stuff hang out together in your head or heart?" I have to admit it is kicking my butt mostly because it is forcing me to put in writing that which I have gotten away with not having cleanly defined for most of my adult life. Topics like: What is the nature of humanity? If you believe in a god, what is it that you actually believe? And the big one for me is if I call myself a Christian (on the days that I do call myself that) then what is it that defines my Christianity?

It requires first and foremost a starting point: would that be god or humanity? Since I cannot ever comprehend fully god as the fullness and source of all is-ness everywhere, I have to start with humanity. It led me on a path of recognizing that we only can know anything in our own language and limited through our own experience. So certainly whatever I may claim to understand is most certainly NOT god. It is only my experience of god, and at that, it is still limited to the antecedent referent list of tools, experience, vocabulary and imagery that my history, ethnicity, gender, society, economics (etc, etc) has afforded me.

All I can come to then is that this (all of this world, this universe, this life) is but a mere reflection of god - not god nor even full evidence of godliness - just "reflections as in a mirror" as Paul wrote. And to be certain the point of view from which I see that reflection is not the one from which you (any of you) see your version. But theology courses want you to come down with a theory or a theology (literally some god words or god logic) that you could espouse.

Hey, I am working on it!

Separate Truths

Commentary on Professor Prothero’s “Separate Truths” (with apologies for the length.

First of all, I cannot step over the need to express appreciation for Professor Prothero’s daring and well-informed essay in the Globe Ideas section (Sunday, April 25, 2010) – daring in its venture in to the un-vogue territory of recognizing and embracing differences (and in particular religious differences) and obviously well informed from the Professor’s years of study. Furthermore, I admit to not having read the full text from which his comments are taken. But unfortunately, from my personal perspective as a novice student of theology, the article fails on both the front end assumptions and on the concluding end of resolution.

The Professor points in great detail to the many differences between the world’s religions as the foundation of his argument and produces from that foundation the obviously related concept of their mutually exclusive goals, using as example the differing goals of various sports. Obviously earth’s many peoples and cultures have a plethora of differences. Why for example do roofs on Norwegian houses have a different pitch than those in the Sonoran desert? Why is the attire of the Inuit inappropriate in the Congo basin? Or allowing for the sport analogy, why must one relinquish the ball when tackled in rugby but cling tightly to it in American football, its second cousin?

The questions that might be asked are not how are these sports different in goals and rules, or why do houses and clothing differ, but rather why do humans play sports and games and why do they seek shelter from the elements? Do we as humans share a need to believe in something, and if so how do those beliefs evolve into group think, cultural mores, out-grouping and hate crimes or perhaps in a shared need to find commonality? While the professor sweeps aside Karen Armstrong’s earlier work, A History of God, he might do well in reviewing her more recent deep dive in The Great Transformation.

In this more recent work, Ms. Armstrong ties together not so much the tenets of some major world religions, but rather the socio-political and economic precedents to them. Evolving out of some common threads in world history and founded in what appears to be a universal human need to understand one’s existence, Armstrong makes a more compelling argument for the commonality of the human spiritual quest. The great sages that developed those religions she traces did so in an effort to make sense out of human suffering and tragedy. Our pains, large or small, personal or societal, are differently named (as our sports are) and so, in the dualism that follows defining one thing from another, the courses of action and thought processes that ensue are even more radically differing.

Humans appear to have a shared need to understand their existence, how they got here and to what end they are moving. Even atheists have an explanation to the why and what of existence (personally I love reading Douglas Adams’ brilliantly articulation of the atheistic point of view). The problem comes not from the religions, theisms and a-theisms, but rather from the very human act of meaning making wherein we all differ radically. Our brains have evolved to make sense out of the myriad stimuli bombarding us at each instant and to relegate some to meaning and others to irrelevance. The bulk of that happens through what psychologists call associative learning – “this is like that.” Since no two people (not even identical twins) share exactly the same perspective, our meaning-making begins to differ from the time we are born (and some would contend even before that). Thus when these somewhat to wildly differing meaning structures encounter human difficulty and the ensuing need to make sense of it, it is a wonder that there are not 6 billion religions on our planet.

But we talk to each other, and something as important and central to life as why we are here and where we are going frequently comes up, eventually rolling up to some commonly held themes as “our beliefs” – and the rest, as they say, is history. Additionally, along with the evolution of these beliefs and themes, our moral/ ethical processes also develop (some more than others). The Professor would no doubt be aware of the work of James Fowler, who outlines the stages of spiritual development from the undefined to universalized (an understanding level few ever get to). Parallel to the work of Kohlberg and Perry, Fowler found that development may stall out at some level, and as Perry found, under duress or challenge, people often regress to a lower level of understanding such as fundamentalism. There, life is simple once again – there is a right and a wrong and everything fits neatly into the package. To the fundamentalist, right comes from god and anything diverging from that is false, and therefore comes from the devil. Combining these aspects of human psychology with the evolutionary history of religions produces a vast array of religions and belief structures not only about morals, ethics and their source, but about who is or is not included and excluded from the defined principles and goals.
And to what point should this argument take us? Professor Prothero correctly points out that denying the differences is both ignorant and insulting. Whether fundamentalist or enlightened universalist, spiritual beliefs are closely held and sacred to the holder. Disavowing those individual beliefs, whether by exclusionary practices or pseudo-intellectual feints toward inclusiveness, is not just ignorant, it is morally wrong. Trying to make things fit neatly into our pretty little ethnocentric packages has virtually destroyed the environment, raped the land, justified wars and genocide – you name it. History should have provided enough evidence that such beliefs and practices don’t work.

But there is a pluralism that embraces diversity that may be a step beyond Dr. Prothero’s end point (which may perhaps be included in his book). Diversity requires our embracing differences as other component parts of the human condition. Not including the perspective of some Aboriginal villager in a world economic forum is as blind as not accessing the creativity of a person living with a mobility handicap when discussing a corporate strategic plan. Religious diversity is not adopting the “New Jerusalem” ideal that Stackhouse espouses, but rather making room at the table for every perspective in discussing our plight.

The problems of today’s world are more complex than ever and some might contend, are foretelling our demise. Unless we recognize that the solution is the unwieldy and awkward coming together of human perspectives, we may not be able to do anything about it. Adam Kahane outlined the process of creating resolutions to the complex and difficult problems presented at the Mont Fleur (South Africa) and in the Vision Guatemala discussions – both of which sought to include representatives of all elements in the discussions. Because religions play such a central role in the actions of peoples around the planet, they may (some would say should) have a role in working toward both a global peace and environmental survival. We as a people are suffering, and suffering, as Armstrong points out in her concluding paragraph of The Great Transformation, “shatters neat, rationalistic theology.” We need to let the pain of genocide in the Middle East, attacks like 9/11 (resulting in our retaliatory warring), and the suffering from natural disasters sink in and shatter the self-righteousness of exclusionary belief systems. We need compassion; a compassion that accepts others’ individual differences and that has room for differing beliefs. We need to follow the lead of Tony Blair and others who are attempting to call the religions of the world together in inclusive mutual respect (for our many differences) and, placing all the guns and knives on the table, begin the process of open and healing dialogue – trusting that somewhere in their respective practices love and compassion have a voice.

Non-Dual Living

Father Richard Rohr drives a great (albeit a phenomenally universal) concept of non-dual living. The basis of non-duality (oneness, in Eastern thought) is that there is no this-and-that, no right-and-wrong, no good-and-bad. We are called to live in completeness of embracing our whole selves and our whole being. It is the step after the AA Seventh Step Prayer where one says "I am now prepared to give you all of me - good and bad." It is that "all of me" thing that throws us humans.
We think that goodness is somehow apart from badness and that we can strive for being just all good.
But that is not the message of the masters. Yin and yang are inextricable from each other. Good and bad are part of the same beingness. What that means is that in striving to walk the straight and narrow, in striving to do the bidding of god, I need to recognize my dark side. Any less, and I am deceiving myself (because certainly I am not deceiving the all-knowing eye!). Then that being the case, the question becomes how do I actually embrace my less-than-sacred self, my profane self?
And that is where we actually discover compassion. Not in the feeling sorry for the less fortunates of the world. No. Compassion is what is found when we actually look inwardly at our own wanting, and lust, and selfishness, and willfulness and, seeing them all for the beautifully human characteristics that they are, we gently reach out and embrace them - and hold them, and comfort them and tell them that they are okay and forgiven.
In truth, we cannot know compassion without knowing our own fallibility. Compassion levels the playing field. In non-dual living, we come at last to full acceptance - of others and, finally, of ourselves!

What Is Hope?

Like nearly all Americans today, I watched and listened and hardly dared to breathe, least I miss a moment or a word. But I started realizing that it wasn't about the man. I started hearing people of reason acknowledging how much work we all had to do. I heard a leader talk in realities. No flowery platitudes, no campaign promises. Just realism and challenges and hard work ahead. So why is it that I feel so hopeful?

I have grown tired of empty suits and political rhetoric. I am wearied from chest-thumping machismo and might-makes-right mentality. I have been worn down by far too many agendas. I need to have my feet planted flatly on the floor.


I don't need to hope for things to come. I don't live my today in the promise of a hereafter. I need to be present - here - right now, and nowhere else. and when I see another who looks like that is what is up for him, I am heartened and lifted up.

I don't know if he can live up to the expectations but I know that those whose expectations are unrealistic will certainly be dashed. I do not know if he will win over his opponents, but I am certain that those who think less of him will find all the evidence they will need in future days. But I am filled with hope today, because one man told his truth. I am encouraged today because the cameras saw all the colors of the faces. I am uplifted because I saw strangers smiling at each other and embracing in the cold air. And I really really want to believe that we can be more together than we are separately, and that something started today that is unique and different in the world. It started today - and I felt it and saw it. And that is what hope is all about.

Meeting The Challenge

"Nature does not do bailouts!" I was reading a recent article by Al Gore (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122584367114799137.html) where I came across that line. It is so true, and it is what has been bothering me about this whole damned fiasco since the beginning of the discussions. It is the drug mentality all over again! We live in a society that has come to expect a quick fix for any ailment that besets us. More Valium, Prozac and Xanax are prescribed and used in America than all other over the counter and prescribed drugs totaled. We have an industry built on surgical procedures to alter obesity. We want instant gratification, instant solutions, and, yes, bailouts.

Sorry, that isn't how it works! Development and maturity are the result of meeting challenges and adapting our childish need for "having it our way" into some other way that lives in harmony with the world. It is critically important for us to learn to live life on life's terms, not ours, and that seems to be where the train derailed some years ago. Part of the science that started engineering our planet in an effort to provide for improvements and cures grew into a larger-than-life Frankensteinian monster that now stomps about out of our control. We (collectively) learned that we don't have to suffer and that generalized into anything that might be even the slightest bit disconcerting. Continuing down this line, we will atrophy our ability to create any true solutions and adapt to our surroundings, and that just reads like a bad sci-fi novel.

It is time that we reverse the trend and face the music. Meeting this challenge (market correction) head-on for the truth it teaches us won't be easy. Our "problems" carry a truth - a lesson - in them that is important to capture and which is conveniently stepped over when we get bailed out. Overspending, gluttony, consumption, leveraged credit all are lies, the consequences of which we have to face. And there is always a consequence, you don't get away with anything - even though you think you can. Life does not work that way! This is hard, it is not easy to meet such challenges head on, but bones become brittle and porous if they don't carry a load, muscles weaken and shrink it they aren't exercised, and minds go senile if they aren't sufficiently challenged. The consequences of a bailout may be more severe down the road than those of sticking our faces in the mess and working through the painful process of dealing and adapting. But the result of the latter is nature's way, and life's process of healthy living.