Going Deep

Unless we go deep we cannot understand another’s context, emotions or even perspective because we will always be trying to make personal sense out of it first. Going deep requires accepting that “everything belongs,” just as it is, and everything holds within it the power to teach. But understanding this requires first surrendering control; something ego will resist with all his might. And if you can get over that hurdle, you can actually begin to accept that “everything belongs;” that even evil and darkness are part of the whole of the universe. Without that acceptance, however, ego will try to selectively accept some things (the good and useful stuff) and reject other parts as negative and useless.

But because all of creation is one, the so-called (or at least perceived as) negative stuff must be included within “everything belongs” or you risk not fully being open to learning. You have already begun evaluating before opening to what must be learned. And by extrapolation, you are only open to what you have already judged as acceptable within your limited scope. Only after going deep within yourself, and transforming the crushing blows of grief into compassion for your broken and defeated egoic self, can you accept all else in nature as part of the whole, as belonging, and as a perfect reflection of all else - including yourself. Until then you do not have the capacity for compassion. As the Buddha said, you must find compassion for yourself before you can have compassion for others.

It is the same with religious beliefs. One cannot fully comprehend another’s belief, spirituality, or spiritual crisis, until and unless one has first gone to deep places in which one’s own spirituality does not make sense - at least it does not make sense at the utilitarian, ego-driven logic level. You must allow your own beliefs to be challenged and to push you to deeper meaning making. Comfort with doubt and darkness must be accepted elements of your own beingness before you are able to look with compassion at another's struggles, another's torment, or another’s radical clinging to some fundamental structure. Compassion does not condone the values of the Taliban or ISIS, but rather can see through the hate and anger to the core of doubt and fear that must exist in order to demand such rigid adherence to those beliefs.

Then and only then can you ask, “What must I learn in order to love in such a way that the hurt, fear, and pain from which ‘the other’ must be operating is soothed and mitigated? How do I channel that type of healing love?” In fact, until your innermost self has been opened and transformed, most of us would probably ask, “Why even bother?” But once one has been opened, MLK’s assertion that “hate cannot drive out hate only love can do that,” takes on a new and deeper meaning. And Jesus’ demand to “love your enemies” is no longer spiritual ideal, but a possible reality.

Too Costly A Price

I joined in recently in an on-line discussion of the gun control diatribe (masquerading as dialogue). It wasn’t really a dialogue at all – just a bunch of angry, self-righteous people haranguing each other for the audacity to hold fast to a belief other than their own. So-called pacifists screaming (as best they can over internet type) at staunch defenders of their Second Amendment right to have a gun of their choice to defend their family and property; and the latter’s expletive-laden vitriol about how he will either kill or go to jail to defend that right.

That is not dialogue, and it is one of three main problems that lie at the source of this breakdown. The first problem is that there can no longer be dialogue.  We have lost the ability to discuss and dialogue with each other; unless of course you agree with absolutely everything I say, in which case, I contend, it is not dialogue. True dialogue is an exchange of ideals wherein listening occurs and through which both parties are changed. Dialogue is a creative resolution starting with opposing or differing points of view that results in a new, previously impossible (or improbable) thought. It cannot be reached when both parties start from the absolute point of view that I am right and you are dead wrong, and operate from a fundamental dualistic logic.  Right/wrong dualism renders anything the other person says automatically wrong and therefore not-listened-to. Where is the dialogue in that? So as a result, congress and my Facebook friends simply engage in angry positioning and demeaning name-calling.

But that is only one part of it.  The second source problem within the gun-control diatribe is that we have evolved into a state where we expect laws, legislation and other people to do the hard work or moral decision-making and critical thinking for us. It takes a ton of developmental work to build the capacity to think critically and in a fully mature way about such complex issues as justice, gun-control, global warming, sexual ethics, reproductive rights and human dignity (to name a few). These and other issues like them as immensely complex dilemmas that have no single or simple solutions. Yet as a society we want the simple solution; we want the silver bullet; we want washboard abs with only 15 seconds of exercise a day. 

Thirdly, we have de-evolved into a society who expects that if something is wrong, we can just take a pill to fix it, and that just is not the way things happen. And within that, we hold the expectation that someone else will do it for us. Dear friends, it is not up to someone else (be that chemistry and pharmaceuticals or law-makers and their polity) to solve our problems for us. These are ours and we need to take ownership and responsibility for the issues we have. Having a law that polices how guns are sold (we have one), or requiring background checks, or magazine sizes will not solve the problem of accountability and responsibility.

 

So the long and short of it is that there is a way out or through this fiasco, but it will take a huge amount of work. First and foremost, we need to take full responsibility not only for the creation of a solution but for the control and use of any firearms out there. In a way the platitude that “guns don’t kill; people do” is right. But until every person who owns or sells, or touches weapons of any sort (let’s throw crossbows and bows and other forms of weaponry in there) takes full accountability of how each weapon is responsibly used, we will continue to have the problem of weapons getting into “the wrong hands.” We need to develop the lost skill of critical thinking to begin to address complex problems and complex solutions in a more mature and rational way.  But above all, we need to re-learn the art of true dialogue.  That is a tall order, but the consequences of ignoring the source issues are too costly; innocent children’s lives being snuffed out before they have even begun to live; malls and theatres becoming unsafe places to go; and young men thinking that the resolution of an argument is drawing and firing some sexy weapon. When the statistics are frightening enough perhaps the work will be done.

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.

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.

The Space In-Between

It's Saturday - the Saturday between "good" Friday and Easter Sunday. I suppose Saturday could get jealous - if it were that kind of a being. But such is not the case with this Saturday. Its purpose is very clear - to be a space in-between.

How should we observe In-Between Saturday? What happens on this day. I think for most of us it is just a day to get over or through. But imagine THAT first one - the the one that was not yet In-Between. The darkness was all around, the execution had happened, the curtain in the temple had been ripped and the earthquake had really shaken everyone. They probably hid and got drunk trying to numb it or just blot the whole damned thing out. Half horrified, half scared out of their minds (who was going to be next to suffer that fate?

Saturday - a time of crouching in the corner and thinking waaaay too much. Who am I? Who was he? What do I really believe - if I can ever believe in anything again? We don't talk much about Saturday as "Holy Saturday" (I think perhaps traditional Catholics still do). But this is the truly "holy" space. It is the in-between space where god does god's best work on us. It is only when we are sufficiently disturbed, sufficiently ripped out of our made up "realities" that we are not deafened to the Divine message. It takes going into the in-between space (what Richard Rohr calls the liminal space - the threshold betwixt and between) to get the real work done.

Real persons of faith know this place - they know that this is the only place where faith becomes just that - faith. This place of not knowing, and of not trusting one's own mind and senses - this is where faith is forged. Everyone who was there on Friday, who had any wherewithal with which to perceive anything, knew what happened! And Easter, well, SOME of those who were there saw and believed (blessed are those who did not see and still believed) and some could not. I somewhat suspect that those who saw and believed, and those who didn't and did, were the ones who went deep into the In-Between space that Saturday.

It is difficult to stay in the In-Between spaces. We are an instant gratification culture. We want it now. We even manage and expedite changes - thinking we are in control of it all. But Saturday - Holy, In-Between Saturday, teaches us to sit and wait - a skill we have all but lost. That is how I intend to spend today - sitting, wondering, waiting, scared....

Of Joy and Suffering

I am preparing to run a series of workshops for the unemployed and soon-to-be-unemployed in our church and the first thing I think of is the emotional state that I hear everyone is in. But a thought came to me in this preparation that is a distinction I have not made before. Think of this: the nature of fear, grief and depression – of most “negative” emotions is aloneness. That is, we almost always experience those emotions uniquely and by ourselves. In fact, we most often feel that no one feels the same as we do, no one fears this or that thing the way we do at that moment. Who is comforted in the least by someone coming to you in your grief and saying, “I know how you feel.” Like hell you do! This is my grief, my fear, my depression and no one knows how it feels but me!

Now bear with me for a moment while we go to the other side. What about joy and passion and excitement? Who among you can contain those feelings; who, upon first feeling them, does not want to immediately jump up and find a friend or even a stranger with whom those feelings can be shared? Joy, passion, elation, excitement, and all of these “positive” emotions are made even better by sharing. They are public emotions where the downers are private.

But what if we have it backwards? What if we do not feel those emotions first and then have the public or private reaction? What if being alone is the source of fear, being abandoned is the source of grief, and being isolated is the source of our deepest depression? Contrarily, what if it incoming together that we first feel elation, if passion is the feeling only two or more can experience, and joy is only joyful when it is shared? What if?

I think our culture is suffering from a disease of epidemic proportions – the disease of individuation or individualism. We suffer from terminal uniqueness. We are so convinced by the harangue of advertisements and marketing that insist that we can “have it our way” – from form-fit clothes to designer drugs. But we humans were meant to be social creatures – to come together, not to move apart. In indigenous cultures where the norm is belonging, people are invariably described as happy and the incidence of depression is almost nil. Even their grieving is done collectively – but then it is over.

So this job search group will not be an individual experience. We will be in it together, to draw from the positive energy of being with our own kind, to share leads and laugh through mistakes and learn collectively. And in doing so, perhaps we can fuel the passion, and increase the joy, and revel in the success that can only come from working “with” instead of “against.”

Fear Not!

Why is it that the standard greeting of angels, and for that matter, of Jesus post-crucifixion? As I see it there are two possible reasons. First of these could be that angels may not be the beautiful, white-robed, winged, runway models that the renaissance painters made them to be - that in fact they might be fearsome, fierce, and powerful creatures that no one this side of Jacob would ever want to wrestle with. That would fit with my understanding of god's humor (see blog entries like: Reverse Logic 8/4, God's Humor 7/12 and Transformation 3/21) - to send the message of hope and joy in a frightening package - just for cosmic giggles!

And what of Jesus? I have often considered that in keeping with this twisted god logic, Jesus may have been butt-ugly! I mean, god would not want people following him around just because he was some heart-throb hunk. Remember, this is the god who sent a stuttering, exiled, killer back to the scene of his crime to rescue the Israelites, and who came to visit not as a king but as a helpless infant born to a displaced, homeless, unwed couple in a stench-filled barn! Now when you combine that with the fact that Jesus might have been ugly and had just been killed in a most gruesome fashion, that may indeed have been a frightening sight.

Fear not indeed! I am not a monster!

But the other possibility - the one that is think is the more likely reason - is that god knows that we live in constant fear. Fear is the natural by-product of the ego which thinks that it can manage the universe (or at least my little corner of it) quite well all by itself, thank you very much. Yet confronted with a zillion pieces of evidence that it cannot do such a daunting task, the ego ducks and covers in abject fear. The truth is, alone, without god, life is frightening; pain and loss are frightening; and we recoil in fear.

But the message of the ghoulish archangel, of the blood splattered crucifixion victim, and of god in every instance is "fear not, for I am with you, even to the end of the earth!" "Fear not, I bring you glad tidings of great joy!" "Do not be afraid" (there are at least 100 passages where this phrase is used) Gotcha! You have been found out. Your fear is evident and yet the divine message keeps coming back, like some relentlessly caring mother, comforting her startled infant, "Shhh, it's alright, don't be afraid, I have you and you will be okay. Hush, shhhh"

The CHristmas message was "Behold!" But this Christmas I invite you to "be held" and comforted, and not afraid! Peace be with you all.