Easter 2005

Easter
And when the Sabbath day was over, Mary of Magdala and Mary the mother of James and Salome bought spices so they could go and embalm him. And very early on the first day of the week they got to the tomb just as the sun was coming up. And they had been asking themselves, “Who will help us roll the stone away from the opening of the tomb?” Then they look up and discover that the stone has been rolled away! (For in fact the stone was very large.)
And when they went into the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right, wearing a white robe, and they grew apprehensive.
He says to them, “Don’t be alarmed! You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene who was crucified. He was raised, he is not here! Look at the spot where they put him! But go and tell his disciples, including ‘Rock,’ he is going ahead of you to Galilee! There you will see him, just as he told you.”
And once they got outside, they ran away from the tomb, because great fear and excitement got the better of them. And they didn’t breathe a word of it to anyone: talk about terrified….
(Mark 16:1-8 SV)

After the Sabbath day, at first light on the first day of the week, Mary of Magdala and the other Mary came to inspect the tomb. And just then there was a strong earthquake. You see, a messenger of the Lord had come down from the sky, arrived [at the tomb], rolled away the stone, and was sitting on it. The messenger gave off a dazzling light and wore clothes as white as snow. Now those who kept watch were paralyzed with fear and looked like corpses themselves.
In response the messenger said to the women, “Don’t be frightened! I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here! You see, he was raised, just as he said. Come, look at the spot where he was lying. And run, tell his disciples that he has been raised from the dead. Don’t forget, he is going ahead of you to Galilee. There you will see him. Now I have told you so.”
And they hurried away from the tomb, full of apprehension and an overpowering joy, and ran to tell his disciples.
And then Jesus met them saying, “Hello!”
They came up and took hold of his feet and paid him homage.
Then Jesus says to them, “Don’t be afraid. Go tell my companions so they can leave for Galilee, where they will see me.”
(Matthew 28:1-10 SV)

On the first day of the week, at daybreak they made their way to the tomb, bringing the spices they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went inside they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.
And so, while they were still uncertain about what to do, two figures in dazzling clothing suddenly appeared and stood beside them. Out of sheer fright they prostrated themselves on the ground; the men said to them, “Why are you looking for the living among the dead? [He is not here—he was raised.] Remember what he told you while he was still in Galilee: ‘The son of Adam is destined to be turned over to villains, to be crucified, and on the third day to rise.’” Then they recalled what he had said.
And returning from the tomb, they related everything to the eleven and to everybody else. The group included Mary of Magdala and Joanna and Mary the mother of James, and the rest of the women companions. They related their story to the apostles; but their story seemed nonsense to them, so they refused to believe the women.
(Luke 24:1-11 SV)

On Sunday, by the half-light of the early morning, Mary of Magdala comes to the tomb—and sees that the stone has been moved away. So she runs and comes to Simon Peter and the other disciple—the one that Jesus loved most—and tells them, “They’ve taken the Master from the tomb, and we don’t know where they’ve put him.”
So Peter and the other disciple went out, and they make their way to the tomb. The two of them were running along together, but the other disciple ran faster than Peter and was the first to reach the tomb. Stooping down, he could see the strips of burial cloth lying there; but he didn’t go in. Then Simon Peter comes along behind him and went in. He too sees the strips of burial cloth there, and also the cloth they had used to cover his head, lying not with the strips of burial cloth but rolled up by itself. Then the other disciple, who had been the first to reach the tomb, came in. He saw all this, and he believed. But since neither of them yet understood the prophecy that he was destined to rise from the dead, these disciples went back home.
Mary, however, stood crying outside, and in her tears she stooped to look into the tomb, and she sees two heavenly messengers in white seated where Jesus’ body had lain, one at the head and the other at the feet.
“Woman, why are you crying?” they ask her.
“They’ve taken my Master away,” she tells them, “and I don’t know where they’ve put him.”
No sooner had she said this than she turned around and sees Jesus standing there—but she didn’t know that it was Jesus.
“Woman,” Jesus says to her, “why are you crying? Who is it you’re looking for?”
She could only suppose that it was the gardener, and so she says to him, “Please, mister, if you’ve moved him, tell me where you’ve put him so I can take him away.”
“Mary,” says Jesus.
She turns around and exclaims in Hebrew, “Rabbi!” (which means “Teacher”).
“Don’t touch me,” Jesus tells her, “because I have not yet gone back to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them this: ‘I’m going back to my Father and your Father—to my God and your God.’”
Mary of Magdala goes and reports to the disciples, “I have seen the Master,” and relates everything he had told her.
(John 20:1-18 SV)

He comes to us as one unknown, without a name, as of old, by the lakeside [see John 21:1-25], he came to those men who knew him not. He speaks to us the same word “Follow thou me!” and sets us to the tasks which he has to fulfill for our time. He commands. And to those who obey him, whether they be wise or simple, he will reveal himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in his fellowship, and as an ineffable mystery, they shall experience in their lives who he is.
(Albert Schweitzer, The Quest of the Historical Jesus)

Lent 2005 - Day Forty

Day Forty
What a strange day this is. Symbolically it represents the last day of the Hebrews’ forty years of wandering in the wilderness. I wonder if they knew that tomorrow they would enter the Promised Land? This is why the gospel texts carried that symbolism forward to Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness prior to the commencement of his itinerant ministry. I wonder if this was the day that he argued with Satan; if he knew that tomorrow would be the day that he would return “in the power of the spirit to Galilee” to begin teaching in the synagogues? (see Luke 4:14-15) And in the Western Christian tradition of Lent this is the day between Jesus’ crucifixion and the Resurrection of the Christ.

This is also the Sabbath, per the Genesis creation stories. Perhaps this explains why—in conjunction with the Hebrew Scriptures’ formulations regarding the Son of Man—it was so important (particularly to the synoptic evangelists) to have the Resurrection occur on the third day rather than during or immediately following the crucifixion. The early Christian creeds took advantage of this “day off” for Jesus to descend into the depths of hell (the history of the creeds and their development offers fascinating reading for those interested in learning more about the subject). Finally, there is a rather weak justification offered for why the tomb of Jesus was left unattended until Sunday morning, even though Shabbat ended at sundown Saturday.

For the contemporary Christian armed with the foreknowledge that tomorrow is Easter, today is the day to run all the last minute errands in preparation for tomorrow’s sunrise services and traditional ham dinners (which were originally intended to keep the Jews away from the table; bet you didn’t know that, did you?) How utterly different it must have been for those first disciples. Today for them must have been a time of intense grieving, disappointment and despair. Their world had literally come apart before their very eyes and the texts imply that any memory of something Jesus’ might have told them about death’s inability to sever their relationship with God was far from their minds. Of course it can’t, but it’s too bad that such a frame of mind could not set the tone for how we ourselves might choose to spend this day.

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-nine

Day Thirty-nine
Our Lenten journey brings us to the foot of the Cross, and it seems like a very final destination indeed. Just when I was beginning to think that I understood a little bit, to think that I was making some sort of progress, I end up here and I’m not so certain anymore. I can’t find that Jesus ever actually said that I am supposed to join him there—to myself be crucified, that is—so what can its purpose be? I have been told that the early Christian community used the sign of the fish to identify themselves, and that it wasn’t until later that the Cross became the universal symbol of the faith. What am I to make of this instrument of violence, death and destruction now that I stand in its shadow?

I am beginning to understand that the Cross at its nexus of intersecting planes perfectly signifies the meaning and purpose of the Christ, that being the full and complete connection of the self with the Other, the conscious realization that there is no separation. The miracle of birth marks the beginning of this consciousness, but it is difficult to look at death as equally miraculous precisely because in its mysteriousness it appears to be the end of such cognizance. With all due respect to the traditional interpretation that Jesus’ death upon the Cross somehow magically saved humankind, I find it profoundly more meaningful to understand the event as the man’s ultimate demonstration of the Truth that even death cannot destroy the connection!

Actually, scripture and tradition support such a conclusion arrived at through the employment of experience and reason. When I began this series it probably seemed that I came down rather hard on the apostle Paul, but I really meant to be critical of the way his thoughts, too, have been misinterpreted down through the millennia. One test of Truth is its timelessness, and this eternal quality is found in Paul’s words to the early community of believers in Rome: No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:37-39 NRSV)

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-eight

Day Thirty-eight
Come; let us share this meal together. We’ve covered a lot of ground—literally and figuratively—these past three years and there are some things we need to talk about. The fate that awaits me is the same as for all mortals, but the circumstances are going to be quite different. You’ve seen that my relationship with Abba is extraordinarily close, and now the time has come for me to show the world that nothing, nothing is powerful enough to destroy it—even death. You need to witness this so that you can believe the same is true for you. I know you want to believe, but your lack of faith in your connection with the Other leaves you fearful of that which is ultimately so natural.

What is different about me from you is my comprehension of the Whole and my realization that I am part of it, not separate from it. You, on the other hand, see yourselves as distinct entities isolated from one another. I have done my best to explain to you that the Other and I are one, just as you and the Other are one. I am in you as you are in me because the Other is in us all and we are all a part of the Other. In our oneness we are equals, no one of us any more deserving of the relationship with Abba than the other. This is why I consider you my friends, not my servants or my slaves. It is why I have been able to treat everyone I meet as my brother or my sister, even the despised and lowly.

I want you to let me do something that is going to make you uncomfortable at first, but with time you will understand why it needed to be done. I am going to wash the dust from your feet to demonstrate that the relationship is about serving, not being served. Perhaps it seems that I am too special, too powerful, too above you to do such a thing, but to think that is to not understand the truth. We sit at the same table. We share from the same loaf and we drink from the same cup. We share the same end just as we share the same beginning. Now come with me to the garden to renew and strengthen our relationship with the Other through prayer. The reign of God is at hand!

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-seven

Day Thirty-seven
The chief concern of the Christ is connection. It may be argued that it should be salvation, but the case has been made in this series for the complete and full relationship with the Other to be the most effective means of salvation. The example of Jesus as the Christ is one of unbroken relationship with his Abba, of perfect communion with God. What some find inspiring while others find it disturbing is Jesus’ invitation to join with him in the relationship, apparently without condition or qualification. This is a direct affront to organized religion—whether it was then or now—because control over who gets to be saved and who doesn’t is the kind of power that institutions strenuously covet. Jesus upset the status quo by preaching that anyone can achieve the connection without the requirement of mediation.

If, then, I choose to follow the way of the Christ my chief concern also becomes connection. But not just for myself. With emphasis upon the interconnectedness of the Whole it becomes important that my neighbor also be connected. Like the old fashioned strings of Christmas lights which required all the bulbs to be burning because one being out would cause the whole string to go out, so it is with human connectedness. I may experience some degree of partial relationship with God, but the completeness of the connection is lessened if you, too, are not experiencing the relationship. The more people who consciously experience the relationship the stronger the connection; and this in turn is amplified by the reciprocity of God more fully experiencing the Whole.

What seems to be so incredibly difficult for the human mind to grasp is the utterly volitional nature of choosing to be consciously connected to the Other. From the dawn of time those with some degree of power over others have believed that the connection can somehow be forced or coerced, or that it can be exclusively withheld altogether. For centuries the Church capitalized (and may still) on fear as a means of motivating conformity and obedience, these certainly not to be confused with connectedness. How ironic that such a tactic has been used in the name of the one who repeatedly told his hearers to “fear not!” I cannot force my neighbor to make the connection; I can only by example make it attractive. How powerfully this was understood by the one who said, “Follow me!”

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-six

Day Thirty-six
There seem to be any number of things that can distract my focus and consequently detract from my relationship with the Other. Keeping mindful of the relationship on an ongoing basis is a challenge even when I try to be intentional about it. Harder still is staying cognizant of the Other’s omnipresence in the Whole, most especially when that includes other people who seem so different from me. If I was to prioritize I’m pretty sure that this inability to see and to accept that God is in others just as surely as God is in me ranks as my cardinal sin. This manifests itself as being judgmental, and I am both embarrassed and ashamed at the discovery of the degree to which this condition hampers my relationship with the Creator.

Just as I am not always aware of my relationship with God, so aren’t the others of whom I find myself sitting in judgment. If sin actually is broken relationship with the Infinite then it is a widespread human condition. As I judge others, so they judge me, and a vicious cycle develops that often shuts God out altogether. It is important to remember that God is not absent from these situations, but does end up being “ignored” through a lack of comprehension that is caused by focusing on the wrong thing. Instead of looking at someone who is different from me with an appreciation of God’s diversity (and vice versa) I am much more apt to view her/him from a vantage of superiority because I believe God is less present in them than in me.

Among the traditional passages of scripture to reflect and meditate upon during this Holy Week are the last words of the Christ from the Cross. Again, these are not contained in any one Gospel but have been passed down by the tradition as a composite. Most relevant to my sin of being judgmental is the incomprehensible moment when Jesus looks upon his persecutors and prays, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34 NRSV) That these words are not deemed authentically those of Jesus does not deprive them of the powerful way they speak to the character of the man. If such is the spirit of the Christ, then surely I must begin to look at others with compassion and forgiveness rather than judgment and disdain. If successful, my reward will be a renewed and strengthened connection with God!

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-five

Day Thirty-five
Just exactly what happened yesterday? Was it some sort of pep rally to send Jesus off to the cross? What exactly am I supposed to be doing this week to prepare for Easter? Buying a new suit? Making reservations for a champagne brunch? Mapping out where I’ll hide the eggs? I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with the whole Lent thing to begin with, but now I’m getting the impression that I’m somehow supposed to be “changing gears” during this final week. There’s no doubt that we’re headed for the big day—for the Super Bowl of Christianity—but it is a seeming paradox to have entered into a process that’s now supposed to culminate in an event.

Experience and reason are going to be hard pressed to hold their own against tradition and scripture in the coming week. As irreverent as it is, I still have to chuckle at the joke about the child who told his Sunday school teacher that Easter is the day that Jesus comes out of his cave and if he sees his shadow it means there will be six more weeks of winter. Whatever progress has been made in the preceding days toward a possibly new and more meaningful understanding of what Easter is about seems very vulnerable to backsliding into childish (not to be mistaken with childlike) interpretations that must be accepted with blind faith because they are so irrational as to defy an enlightened worldview.

Just as Jesus apparently “connected” with the Other during his wilderness experience in such a way that he was able to move past the temptations that are common to us all, I must hope that I’ve come closer to making a connection of my own that is going to help me not lose sight of where I’ve been and where I’m going. As ironic as it sounds, religion has an inherently powerful ability to interfere with—or to break altogether—the relationship we are intended to have with our Creator. Jesus’ prescription for a strict and absolute way of restoring and enhancing this relationship is intriguingly absent from the gospel texts. One needs look no further, however, than the tradition established by the Church to find such dogma. It’s sad to say, but a church may not be the best place for me to spend the next seven days.

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-four

Day Thirty-four
This thirty-fourth day of Lent brings us to the threshold of Holy Week, the time during which we must squarely face our own mortality and see what we can make of it. Early in this series we considered death as the enemy from which we want to be saved, and I’m sure that there are many whose minds remain unchanged in that regard. But for some of us the development of the notion that death could figuratively be referring to the sin of separation rather than the literal cessation of physical function sheds an intriguing light on the path to the Cross. Even the most conservative orthodoxy will not argue that Jesus was crucified to death and then buried, but it requires an open-minded and progressive theology to consider that the subsequent Resurrection is something radically different than resuscitated reanimation.

I am still asked whether or not I have seen Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. I have not, and I will tell you why. For as incredibly cruel and inhumane as Jesus’ crucifixion was, it is not for me the focus of the significance of his life and his teachings—at least not in the way that much of Christianity (and from what I understand, the movie) has come to interpret it. I do not believe that Jesus had to die upon a cross as the exclusive, preordained method for human salvation. Quite to the contrary, Jesus fully and completely revealed “the plan” for salvation in the course of his brief ministry, and his crucifixion served to prove his conviction in the Truth of his teaching to an unbelieving world that was gravely threatened by his message. As the resurrected Christ has perpetuated that Truth down through the ages we have seen the cycle viciously repeated.

Holy Week—which encompasses the Passion of the Christ—is a story of severe disappointment. It is the story of once exuberant crowds who adulated a man who quickly disappointed them by not meeting their selfish expectations of what a Messiah should be. It is the story of disciples disappointed by their own inability to understand their Master’s words and actions, a confusion that ultimately led to betrayal and denial. It is the story of a man who shares with his Abba his disappointment with the way things are coming to a close, wondering out loud if perhaps it couldn’t have ended differently. And it is the story of the most faithful experiencing the utter disappointment of watching their teacher and their friend suffer the death of a common criminal, wondering whether or not there was ever any truth to the things he had led them to believe.

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-three

Day Thirty-three
Let’s see if I’m getting this right. God is always available to the relationship whenever I (or anyone) choose to enter into it. My choice, however, is significantly influenced by my even knowing that it is available to me. My ignorance of its availability does not excuse the resulting brokenness or separation, thus making ignorance of the availability of the relationship a sinful condition. Salvation from this sinful condition comes from being made aware, from being enlightened. A savior from sin, then, becomes one who provides this enlightenment in ways that are truly meaningful to the human consciousness. From such a vantage, Scripture takes on—at least for me—a completely new significance:

Genuine light—the kind that provides light for everyone
—was coming into the world.
Although it was in the world,
and the world came about through its agency,
the world did not recognize it.
It came to its own place,
but its own people were not receptive to it.
But to all who did embrace it,
to those who believed in it.
it gave the right to become children of God.
They were not born from sexual union,
not from physical desire,
and not from male willfulness:
they were born of God.
The divine word and wisdom became human
and made itself at home among us.
We have seen its majesty,
majesty appropriate
to a Father’s only son,
brimming with generosity and truth.
(John 1:9-14 SV)

It was from this same worldview that the ongoing and abiding presence of the Paraclete was revealed, a continuing source of enlightenment that will serve as an everlasting safeguard against the sin of separation. I have personally never understood why it became necessary to look forward to the second coming of Jesus if there was any truth at all to the Resurrection. How can something come back that has never left? It may be regarded as heresy by some, but I’m beginning to think that Easter is significant for some very different reasons than those derived from tradition alone.

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-two

Day Thirty-two
If God is omnipresent (which I believe is true) then God is always available to the relationship. If, then, there are times when the relationship is lacking—or missing altogether—it cannot be because God has absented Itself. In other words, I am the one in control of the degree to which the relationship is comprehended. The model of electricity has helped me to better grasp this concept. Electricity is always available, but anyone wanting to use it must develop a receptive means of “connecting” to it. When the connection is broken or short-circuited is when sin—at least according to the working definition that is being developed in this series—occurs in the spiritual sense.

A number of obvious situations and circumstances that can lead to this sinful condition have already been cited. Paramount among them, however, is when concern for the self overrides consciousness of the Other. When the Other is not acknowledged as an integral component of the self a skewed perception of reality results. Yes, it is still all about me, but I am nothing without the Other. I may actually grasp this part of the equation, but I am quickly dumbfounded by the realization that what holds true for me applies to the rest of sentient creation. Although I would like to think otherwise, I have no more special access to God than anyone else. Therefore, when I let myself think that I do I once again end up in the sinful condition.

One explanation for why Jesus is remembered two-thousand years after his ministry is that he realized his relationship to the Other more perfectly than anyone before or since. He comprehended that the Other is also the Whole and is thus to be found in everyone and everything. When such a realization is authentic a new level of identification—of empathy—with others as common with the self leads to a remarkable degree of compassion that is remembered to this day as one of Jesus’ preeminent characteristics. Jesus was the flesh and blood embodiment of the Shema, loving God with all his heart, soul and mind, and his neighbor as himself. In this sense, he may well have been without sin which lends profound credence to his salvific gospel that his disciples are capable of following in his footsteps!

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty-one

Day Thirty-one
I am truly blessed among all children! My parents inspired and encouraged within me an inquisitiveness about the nature of things that has made life’s journey both worthwhile and meaningful. Dad introduced me (along with thousands of others) to a remarkably progressive theology that I didn’t fully appreciate until I was exposed to more traditional, conservative settings. And while he was occupied with his ministry Mom (the most widely and well read person I know) nurtured the practical aspects of my spiritual development, things like praying, reading the Bible, and going to church and school. Their combined efforts provided me with a worldview that has served me well for over a half-century.

I was extraordinarily fortunate to have been brought up in an environment in which spirituality was regarded as more than just rote catechism. As a result I early on came to understand that something like prayer is more than just reading from a book, more than just memorization, more than just mechanical formulas. Certainly not in so many words, I learned from my parents that prayer is a dynamic process through which one enters into communion with God in an incredibly intimate and personal way. Rather than regard God as some sort of divine Santa Claus that one goes to with a wish list, I was guided toward a much more realistic understanding of prayer as a process of aligning (one of Dad’s favorite terms) oneself with the awesome “I Am”.

I have often wondered if Jesus felt the same way about his parents. Such information is not what the gospel texts intended to communicate. With an emphasis upon the divinity of the babe and later the man, there was little interest in the development of the boy and teenager in between. The tradition has made some attempts to fill in the gaps with childhood stories, but they too are aimed at promoting the miraculous and supernatural rather than the normal and natural character of Jesus. But he had to learn from somewhere that it is not only possible but alright to enter into communion with the Other on such an intimate basis that he called It “Abba” (Daddy)! This may have been Jesus’ first insight (and ours) into the nature of the Paraclete.

Lent 2005 - Day Thirty

Day Thirty
If I use Wesley’s quadrilateral as the formula for improving my dynamic relationship with God, can I find a “common denominator” residing in Scripture, Tradition, Experience, and Reason? As a matter of fact, I can. From all four sources I learn that the “mechanism” which serves to improve an already existing “connection” or to reestablish a lost connection is: prayer. I find overwhelming support of this conclusion from both the Hebrew Scriptures and New Testament (as well as the scriptures of almost every world faith), from the Church’s dogma, doctrine, creed, and ritual, from my own personal experience, and from an objective and empirical analysis of the subject (just do a search of “prayer” to discover how much of the scientific community—particularly medicine—is researching this subject).

This being said, though, the common denominator is subject to diverse and varied interpretations of what constitutes genuine prayer. The Church has its point of view as does Scripture. Experience sometimes does and other times does not coincide with reason. Predictably much of the disparity is generated by different understandings of what the function and purpose of prayer is. I have referred to it as a process of making or improving the connection with the Other, but it would not be hard to find those of the opinion that the purpose of prayer is to petition God to action of some sort or another. Even within the four facets of the quadrilateral this diversity is to be found. Scripture does not present a singular definition for prayer, just as tradition, experience and reason do not either.

I really am going to need help with this one, and the Paraclete would seem just the person to provide it. But how do I get in touch with this rather vague and enigmatic presence? And how can I possibly know that anything I do perceive as the Holy Spirit is not just a figment of my imagination. Both experience and reason inform me that the human mind is powerfully capable of fabricating answers to unanswerable questions. The psychological phenomenon of closure is a proven example of how our minds fill in the gaps when there are uncomfortable “holes” disturbing our comprehension. Nonetheless, the prospect of connecting—of communing—with God, and in the process of diminishing or eliminating sinful separation seems worth an earnest quest for authenticity. I need to learn more about prayer.

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty-nine

Day Twenty-nine
I feel as though I’ve made some progress inasmuch the journey thus far has provided me with a different understanding of where I’m headed, what my spiritual goal may be. I no longer think that my physical death is the ultimate sin to be saved from. In fact I’m beginning to understand that sin may be better understood as a kind of living death that occurs whenever I somehow manage to diminish or sever the dynamic relationship with my Creator, with God. I’ve even succeeded in identifying some of the situations and circumstances which can cause a break in this relationship. All this, however, has left me wondering where I go from here.

I have on occasion sensed the availability of the Paraclete, of the Christ-promised comforter and advisor that serves to make the original experience real and relevant to me today. But this is at best a fleeting experience. Much more constant is the state of separation brought on by either ignorance or distraction (oftentimes both), hopefully less often by intent. Is it possible to reverse this condition so that there is more time spent with the Spirit and less time sinfully separated? And if it is possible, how is it accomplished? Who or what do I turn to for competent advice and counsel? The profound theological insight of John Wesley (1703-1791) revealed in his quadrilateral of Scripture, Tradition, Experience, and Reason provides an answer.

The genius of Wesley’s approach is the combining of these elements into a whole that is held together by what I have come to think of as a dynamic tension. No single element in isolation is sufficient unto itself, even though there has been a faction of United Methodism (the American church that grew out of Wesley’s movement) that continues to bring ever-increasing pressure to bear on the primacy of Scripture. Now free of such infighting I am in a position to look more closely into the Truth of which Wesley speaks, and in the process to perhaps enter into a more constant and salvific relationship with my Creator through the Christ.

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty-eight

Day Twenty-eight
I really hate never having the wherewithal to get all the things I need. Again, this is just a hair’s breadth away from hating (although ‘resenting’ is probably the more accurate word) those who seem to be able to get whatever they want whenever they want it. I’m constantly bombarded with new things I really must have in order to be happy and fulfilled and my means are simply limited. To maintain my station in life just isn’t enough. My ethic is admirably one of self-improvement and the most obvious sign of success is affluent prosperity. Everything is relative, and it is unfortunate that there are so many in the world living in true poverty. But my ability to send a few dollars their way is contingent upon my having a surplus for myself, and that’s why I hate never having enough.

But wait! Am I not sinning here? Is my insatiable desire for more serving to interfere with—or to break altogether—my relationship with God? Or is it the other way around? The currently popular theology of success purports that it is sinfulness that manifests itself as impoverishment (Third World countries in particular need to take note of this) while material wealth is the reward for having obtained God’s favor and blessing. Therefore good people have plenty and bad people are punished by having to do without. But for as simple as this seems it still does not help me understand how or why the guy in the million-dollar house with a fleet of Mercedes is so much better in the eyes of God than I am. Why, I don’t think he reads the Bible as much as I do!

Speaking of reading the Bible, it’s hard to find an accurate and objective interpretation that supports a theology of success. Indeed, there is much—especially in the gospel texts—that argues just to the contrary. From the Hebrew Scripture’s prohibition of covetousness (remember that this would have been the “bible” that Jesus worked from) to the numerous admonitions of Jesus himself found in the New Testament against letting money and materialism hamper one’s relationship with God, the scriptural message would seem to at the very least caution against equating wealth with righteousness and poverty with sinfulness. Indeed there seems to be an entirely different definition for wealth other than the materialistic one, but I’m so busy chasing the contemporary understanding of success that my exploration of something more will just have to wait. God have mercy on me, a sinner!

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty-seven

Day Twenty-seven
I hate it when I’m not in control. It doesn’t really matter whether it’s not being in control of myself or of the others around me. Either way it’s not a good feeling. I especially hate being controlled by others. Often as not I’m smarter than they are, I have better ideas than they do, and things would run more smoothly if they were done my way. I mean, just look at George W. Bush! The idiot couldn’t think his way out of a paper bag and yet he’s messing up the whole world because he’s taken control of our government with the help of his neo-con flunkies. If I could just be the President of the United States then I’d be in control of things and could get the world back in running order.

But wait! Am I not sinning here? Does my desire to be the one in control do something to my relationship with God? I’m well aware of the old adage “let go, let God” but that just seems to be one of so many catchy little platitudes that don’t mean anything in the real world. Bush claims that it is God’s will that he be in control, so what does that say about my desire? Is the sin that I’m wanting something for myself that God has ordained someone else for? Or is the sin to hurt my relationship with God by wanting to be the one in control? How does this work, anyway? If God is in control, what does that do to my free will? And if the doctrine of human volition teaches that through free will I’m the one in control, what does that say about God’s role in the scheme of things?

What we know of Jesus portrays a man not much interested in the issue of control, even though the tradition has imbued him with God-like powers. We are not given the impression that Jesus’ mission was to take over either the corrupt Temple or the oppressive Roman government. Indeed, he paid the high price of not being regarded by many as the true Messiah for this very reason! And the picture of the man in Gethsemane, at the traumatic height of his vulnerability to those who would literally kill to maintain their control, is not of one attempting to manipulate God but is rather one of incredible submission to the will of his Abba. I’m tempted to think that this was easy enough for Jesus because he did so with the knowledge that he was God’s Son (or that he was God), but then I have to confess that this utterly robs him of his divine role as Rabbi, as Teacher. God have mercy on me, a sinner!

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty-six

Day Twenty-six
I hate it when people disagree with me. I hate it when my opinions and point of view are not shared by others. Admittedly, such an attitude is just a breath away from hating the people who disagree with me and who argue another point of view. My thoughts and ideas are fundamentally who I am, and so it is only natural that I would regard opposing or different thinking to be threatening. My deeply instilled values have a strong foundation of history and tradition supporting them, and most of the time I have religion’s assurance that God, too, supports my position and disdains anything different. In short, my hatred of people who are different from me—who think differently than I do—is justified because God hates them too!

But wait! Am I not sinning here? How can I claim to know the mind of God while being distracted by those I hate for not thinking or believing like I do? I’ve created a dilemma for myself. Do others get to lay claim to right thinking for the same reasons I do? When customs, traditions and perceptions differ, do I need to try to find out where God “stands” on the issues, or is it okay for me to assume that God “sees” things the same way I do? What if I’ve got the Bible on my side (this does become problematic when the text itself doesn’t support my point of view, but I’ll deal with that later)? My self-esteem—my sense of self-worth—is critically dependent upon knowing absolutely that I’m right about everything. Is this selfish need, however, serving to interfere with, or break altogether, my relationship with God?

Somehow I need to better comprehend that this Other that partially resides within me is equally residing throughout the rest of Its creation. What seems to differ from person to person is the individual awareness of this Truth. Perhaps the truly distinctive characteristic of Jesus was his total awareness and acceptance of it, and that comprehension on his part profoundly influenced his relationship to God and humankind. The amazing thing about his character that remains attractive even today is that his ministry was not one of victorious debate but was rather of a quiet and sincere conviction that astounded those around him with the authenticity of its authority. If one’s focus is upon maintaining an optimal relationship with God, there simply isn’t any time left to enter into the destructive process of hating others or their ideas. God have mercy upon me, a sinner!

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty-five

Day Twenty-five
I hate my job! Never in my forty-one years of employment have I worked in such a demeaning, condescending, discriminatory and unjust environment. I am at the mercy of ignorant buffoons that elevate their own self-importance by lording it over the rank and file with impunity. Yesterday I had to promise the assistant director and unit manager that I will unquestioningly do what my supervisor tells me to do when she tells me to do it. This was to avoid “progressive disciplinary action” against me. Those who haven’t been around me the last six years have no idea just what a bad boy I’ve become!

But wait! Am I not sinning here? To the degree that my hate is taking my eye off the theological ball, so to speak, I am. This notion of sin as a breech in a dynamic relationship as opposed to committing specific static acts is going to take some getting used to. I’m pretty good about not violating, say, the Ten Commandments on a daily basis (and I only have to worry about the Sabbath thing once a week) but I’m not very good at not allowing things to distract me from my ongoing relationship with the Other. This may be part of the problem: that I continue to think of God as other. As I begin to understand myself to be a part of the whole, then it becomes possible to comprehend that a great many of my thoughts and actions are in ignorance of the relationship.

So how do I stay in a “good” relationship with God when I find myself in an environment that I despise? Do I need to accept that God is doing this to me as a form of punishment? And if God really loves me, why is “He” permitting all this to happen to me? Didn’t Jesus’ death upon the cross take care of all this? I’m baptized. I was a faithful church-goer until recently. What gives? What has to give is my erroneous understanding of the nature of God and my relationship to this “Other” that is the fundamental basis of “me”. God is not out there somewhere, but God is the living force within me that is experiencing all the hatred, all the vengeance, all the sin that occurs when that relationship is ignored or broken. God have mercy on me, a sinner!

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty-four

Day Twenty-four
Did Jesus have a message relevant to our times? We know that the Earth is not flat. We know that the Earth is not the center of the Universe; indeed, infinity has no center. Our eschatology is now based on science which makes the End Time a matter of nuclear annihilation, global warming or a viral pandemic, and the probability of the entire Cosmos coming to a screeching halt is virtually nil. Jesus walked the earth and spoke his mind to a radically different worldview than ours and this legitimately raises the question of his relevance to ours. Once again we are challenged to determine what Jesus’ message actually was by peeling back the layers of interpretation that surround it.

G.A. Studdert Kennedy (1883-1929) wrote, “We have seen that sin is always at its root a break in the unity of man with God, and it was to that root of all sin that the Son of Man was tempted in the Garden.” This echoed Walter Rauschenbusch’s (1861-1918) statement, “The Kingdom of God is largely a matter of right relations, just as sin is largely wrong relation to God, to ourselves and to our fellows.” Paul Tillich (1886-1965) synthesized thoughts such as these into his definition of sin as that which separates us from the love of God. It is not by accident that these giants of 19th and 20th century Christianity were coming to agreement on the revolutionary nature of Jesus’ timeless message. Buried beneath two millennia of orthodox dogma and creed was a fresh, new understanding of what humankind needs to do to save itself.

We are not expected to blindly accept such thinking, any more than we are expected to mindlessly digest what has over the centuries deteriorated into religious pabulum. Jesus was not dictating scripture to be eternally regarded as inerrant and infallible. He was instead presenting a radical new way of understanding our relationship to God, revelation so profound that it is still not completely understood to this very day. Rather than passively await a supernatural event that defies all reason, through the Christ we are invited to enter into a perfectly natural way of life that defies the sin of separation and alienation. Should we be successful in cultivating the same kind of relationship with God that Jesus had—and he assures us that such a thing is possible—we shall discover genuine salvation that transcends even the grave.

Lent 2002 - Day Twenty-three

Day Twenty-three
It’s an interesting concept. While it’s all about me, I’m not all there is. This allows me to acknowledge that I am the center of my universe while opening the door to the realization that I am not the center of the Universe. Rather than have to deal with a strict either/or, I have the opportunity to integrate into a both/and paradigm. I am not God, but God is me! If this is true it places the matter of my personal salvation—even though I’m still not sure what this really means—into a dynamic context of relationship rather than a static one of mere acceptance. What I do or don’t do does matter, not because it conforms with or violates predetermined criteria, but because if affects the ongoing relationship either positively or negatively (the possibility of neutrality must, of necessity, be reserved for further discussion at a later time).

I can’t speak for anyone else, but such a theological construct sheds a whole new light for me concerning my relationship with God (the Other), and upon the functional nature of Jesus as the Christ. Perhaps the reason that we still remember the man today, and continue to study his divine revelation, is because he avoided absolute egocentrism or theocentrism, instead successfully merging the two into a comprehensible human understanding. Rather than making Jesus’ teachings conform to our understanding of God, we need to be vigorously involved in the process of learning what Jesus teaches about God. His authority comes from his comprehension of the Truth, and it is upon that basis that he shares this Truth with all who have eyes to see and ears to hear.

Such an understanding obviously poses a threat to the authority of the institution—in Jesus’ time the Temple, in our time the Church—because it is eliminated as the mediatory entity. This is not to discount the value of the institution altogether, but it definitely alters its purpose and function, a fact that was no more welcome in Jesus’ day than it is in our own. I’m starting to better understand what the initial conflict between Jesus and the establishment was and how it led to the sequence of events that it did. I’m also starting to feel somewhat hopeful that my pursuit of this line of thought is going to open the door to an entirely new relationship with the Other through the Christ!

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty-two

Day Twenty-two
You cannot pray the Lord’s prayer and
even once say “I”;
You cannot pray the Lord’s prayer and
even once say “my”;
You cannot pray the Lord’s prayer and
not include your brother;
For others are included in each and
every plea;
From the very beginning it never
once says “me”.
(author not identified)

This poem does not come from the Bible. Does that make it any less true? This poem is not found in any dogma, doctrine, or creed. Does that make it any less profound? “Yet the advocate, the holy spirit the Father will send in my stead, will teach you everything and remind you of everything I told you.” (John 14:26 SV) Who exactly was it that decided that anything not endorsed by the organized institution—the Church—could not be considered “official” or as a legitimate and valid communication from the Paraclete?

In this particular instance, the Paraclete communicated to me in a very meaningful way through my father who fulfilled that same function for thousands of others as well in his role as an ordained pastor. Indeed, a primary medium for the living Word of the Christ is both my parents who knowingly or unknowingly have employed Scripture, tradition, experience, and reason to bring and keep alive the spirit within me. And like concentric circles growing from a stone tossed into a pool, God’s voice can be heard in an ever expanding chorus of those who are moved to share their portion of the greater Truth.

The Other is intimately present throughout all Creation. The Other is not bound by mortal rules or institutions. And through the Christ has been revealed the Other’s desire to be in relationship rather than separation. We enter the wilderness through our own choice of isolation, and the way back out is to enter into holy communion with the Other. My continuing fascination with John’s gospel is that while his quotations of Jesus are deemed unauthentic, the profound Truth remains unaffected: “Don’t you believe that I’m in the Father and the Father is in me? I don’t say what I say on my own. The Father is with me constantly, and I perform his labors.” (John 14:10 SV)

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty-one

Day Twenty-one
I like to talk tough. I like to appear as if the little things like the meaning and purpose of life don’t really matter to me. And I certainly don’t want to give the impression that I waste any time wondering about what’s going to happen to me after I die. I mean, dead is dead, right? While it’s frowned upon as politically incorrect, the hedonistic philosophy of “eat, drink and be merry” really does seem to capture the contemporary mindset, and it’s just icing on the cake if I can confess Jesus as my Lord and Savior—even at the very last second—as a hedge against being wrong about an afterlife. So why am I even bothering with the whole Lent thing?

It’s because there has been something at the very core of my being from the very beginning that in even my most cynical moments I cannot deny. Yes, it is all about me. But “me” is not all there is! Philosophers, theologians, psychologists—thinkers of all types and ages—have variously wrestled with the reality known by different names: conscience, soul, spirit, subconscious. In metaphysical terms it is the realization that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, and that somehow in the larger scheme of things this entity we have identified as “mind” is connected to and with this transcendent reality. Interestingly, we don’t even have to overtly acknowledge this reality to accept its truth.

The forty days of Lent is intended to symbolize Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness which in turn is representative of the forty years the Hebrews spent wandering in the wilderness during their exodus from Egypt to the Promised Land. The common thread throughout is what I shall, for now, refer to as the “Other” that is always present. The Hebrews were not alone in the wilderness. Jesus was not alone in the wilderness. Nor am I alone in the wilderness. Try as I might, I cannot believe that it is only “me” because I have a primal awareness of the Other. It is hard to even try to imagine Jesus saying “it’s all about me” because his awareness of the Other was intrinsic to his character. Could this have something to do with my salvation?

Lent 2005 - Day Twenty

Day Twenty
I find myself midway on this spiritual journey through the symbolic wilderness of Lent, and, as some others have commented, I am no less confused—and possibly more so—than when I began. I can’t help but wonder how the journey is progressing for those who chose Mardi Gras revelry over a more somber approach. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so judgmental. Perhaps their method of entering into the observance has provided them with a greater sense of direction than I seem to be finding for myself. The old adage that “ignorance is bliss” may be truer than I care to admit, especially if there’s any truth to the belief that there is a preordained elect going to heaven regardless of what they say or do.

I haven’t done much to dispel the notion that it’s all about me, either. It’s my own skin that I’m out to save, and it’s bothersome to be presented with conflicting theories about how to accomplish that. I’m beginning to feel a strong attraction to the idea that Jesus died on the cross for me because it is comforting to think that I am not ever going to have to go through such an ordeal myself. Indeed, it’s an increasing boost to my ego to consider that everything Jesus did was for my benefit even to the point that his pain and suffering was to assure my place in heaven. If all I have to do is swallow some incredible ideology in order to play the game, that’s a small price to pay to pass my sins on to a willing receiver.

The truth of the matter is that I don’t think I really need to spend another twenty days doing this. Why not just skip ahead to the reward of Easter and be on with it? I already know how the story turns out, and I’m the winner because Jesus arose from the grave. I’ve got a life to get on with, and I’ll be sure to express my gratitude to Jesus for his sticking it out for me the next time I’m at church. Of course, that may be a couple of weeks from now when Easter Sunday rolls around…and it’s always so crowded then that it might make more sense to wait a couple of more weeks…he gave his life for me…I’m sure he’ll understand that there’s nothing more left for me to do…

Lent 2005 - Day Nineteen

Day Nineteen
Just for fun, let’s suppose that Jesus’ focus was on the here and now rather than the hereafter. What difference would that make as to our regard for him? If he didn’t see his mission as guaranteeing us a place in heaven, would we have any reason to pay attention to him? What if we discovered that Jesus said something to the effect of “Ask not what the Kingdom can do for you, but what you can do for the Kingdom!”? Would we still be interested in getting on the Christian bandwagon? From the “what’s in it for me?” perspective such a discovery would radically impact Jesus’ actual worth in the scheme of things, although the possibility of immediate rather than delayed gratification would certainly be more consistent with our thinking.

Two-thousand years of history and tradition are not just simply shaken off, but I suggest that by using John Cobb’s analogy of peeling away the layers of an onion we might come to a fresh new understanding of the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. And we have that mystical promise from John’s gospel that there is an abiding presence to assist us with the process. The challenge is to dare to think that we might come to our own conclusions about the man and his ministry without being totally dependent upon others to tell us what to think. It is the Wesleyan adventure of adding our experience and ability to reason to the mix of Scripture and tradition to develop a uniquely personal understanding of what the Christ is all about.

My own study of the subject has led me to feel that there is a strong argument to be made for Jesus’ emphasis upon the present. His gospel was that God’s reign is at hand, not somewhere in the future. What sayings of his that we have been able to determine as authentic address the imminent rather than the remote or distant, and the prayer that has survived the millennia is for the kingdom to come to Earth as it is in heaven. Indeed, it is difficult to find anything that Jesus actually said about the hereafter precisely because his focus was primarily on the present. If Jesus’ offer of salvation is for the present rather than the future, we may have some serious rethinking to do about whether or not we even want to consider it.

Lent 2005 - Day Eighteen

Day Eighteen
Yesterday I tried to set the stage in the most concise way for where I think this series needs to head. The Gospel of John is so distinctive in comparison to the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke), and this includes the utterly unique supposition of the ‘paraclete’. While Paul’s influence is clearly seen in the synoptic works, it is not so readily apparent—if it’s there at all—in John’s testament. The synoptic gospels have the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup at the Last Supper—the foundation for the Sacrament of Holy Communion—while John relates only Jesus’ washing of the disciple’s feet. Likewise, there is no mention of the ‘paraclete’ in the synoptic versions, only in John’s.

There are at least two things about these differences that are significant. First, John casts a slightly different light on the purpose and meaning of Jesus’ life. Second, John opens the door to the possibility that the relationship with God through Christ is an ongoing process as opposed to a ‘done deal’. The Jesus Seminar deemed none of Jesus’ words recorded in the Gospel of John to be authentic. Hence we are examining a concept rather than a literal truth, but it is a fascinating one nonetheless. One aspect of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormons) that intrigues me is its contention that the story of Jesus did not end once the Christian New Testament was canonized. Alas, the LDS now claim that theirs in the final word.

What if it’s true that Jesus somehow implied that there was more to be taught and more to be learned after his death? The Trinitarian construct adopted so early on by the Church definitely identifies this ‘holy spirit’ as the third person of which God is composed, but it never really gives a clear idea of how it is to be made manifest. Is it the Bible? Is it the Church? In not so many words the claim is made for each and both, but not in such a way as to not be seen as ultimately self-serving. Further, how does personal salvation fit into all of this? If Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection brought about the redemption of humankind, then what need would there be for an advisor, counselor, or comforter? I’m beginning to think that there’s more to the story than we’ve been led to believe.