2023 The Heart of Christianity: Jesus

“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me.

SALT Commentary…

Big Picture:

1) This is the fifth of the seven weeks of Eastertide. Between now and Pentecost, we’ll continue exploring Jesus’ teachings on faith and intimacy with God.

2) This week’s reading from the Gospel of John includes one of the most famous — and infamous — verses in the New Testament: Jesus’ remark that “No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). Too often, this sentence is distorted into a dogma of exclusion, as if Jesus is saying, If you’re not Christian, you’re damned. As we’ll see, this is a drastic misunderstanding of what Jesus is actually up to in this story.

3) What’s he up to? He’s trying to reassure his anxious, heartbroken disciples. Why are they anxious and heartbroken? Jesus has just delivered a devastating one-two punch: first, the news that “I am with you only a little longer” and “Where I am going, you cannot come” (John 13:33); and second, that Peter — and by extension, the whole group — will deny and desert him in his imminent hour of need (John 13:38). For the disciples, worse news could scarcely be imagined. They’re stunned, and beginning to panic — and at precisely this moment, this week’s passage begins.

4) The larger context is John’s version of the Last Supper (John 13-17). John doesn’t include the Eucharist in his narrative, instead focusing on how Jesus washes the disciples feet and then delivers the so-called “farewell discourses” — basically his last words of guidance and consolation for his followers as he takes his leave. The broad strokes in this section of John, then, are that Jesus is on his way out, the Holy Spirit is on her way in (as we’ll see in next week’s reading; see John 14:15-26), and the post-Easter church is about to be born, a community that, Jesus insists, will go on to do even “greater works” than he did (John 14:12). Christians tend to valorize Jesus’ time “in the flesh” — but for John, the symphony of salvation continues to crescendo with each movement, and the rise of the Spirited-church-abiding-in-Jesus is an even “greater” phase of God’s redemptive work.

Scripture:

1) The disciples are distraught — and understandably so! Think of it: from their point of view, here is the Messiah, the one they believed would deliver them and the whole world, the one on whom they had pinned all their hopes, all their lives — and now he’s leaving? Not only leaving — now he’s going to suffer, to be humiliated, desecrated, vanquished? And his disgrace — in the end, wouldn’t it result in their disgrace as well? No wonder they’re disoriented, wide-eyed, and afraid. Thomas says out loud what they’re all thinking: “How can we know the way?” (John 14:5).  

2) This context of crisis and desperation is the interpretive key for understanding what happens next. Jesus’ response, so far from a cerebral, scolding lecture on salvation or “who will get to heaven,” is actually an exercise in urgent, poignant pastoral care. He’s assuring his companions that his imminent departure is not abandonment, but rather a move that will make way for an even deeper intimacy. It’s as if he’s saying, On one level, I’m about to leave you — but on a deeper level, we’ll be closer than ever. Don’t worry. Take heart. Trust me — and trust the One who sent me!

3) Thomas asks, “How can we know the way?,” and Philip follows up by asking Jesus to “show us the Father” — as if to say, At least give us some coordinates, so we can find our way to “God’s house” once you’re gone (John 14:5,8,2). Jesus’ response amounts to this: You already know the Way! You know the Way we’ve been traveling, the Truth we’ve been learning, the Life we’ve been living — so just keep going, and when you do, I’ll be right there with you, because I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I’m not merely your guide; I am the Way. So keep going and learning and living toward God, and we’ll be together as you go…

4) Remember, the Gospel of John begins by identifying Jesus with the divine Logos, the life-giving divine Word, Thought, Reason, Pattern (all legitimate translations of the Greek word, logos) underneath and at the heart of everything. For John, by living in and through this Pattern, by walking in and through this Way, we live and walk in communion with the One who, in the beginning, was with God and was God (John 1:1-5).

5) In other words, Jesus insists that even though he’s leaving, his followers’ everyday lives of living out his teachings — especially the new commandment he’s just given, to “love one another as I have loved you” — will be sure signs of their ongoing communion with him. The tone of this teaching, then, isn’t stern admonition; he’s not saying, If you want me to be with you, you’d better follow my instruction (much less, If you want salvation, you’d better be a Christian!). On the contrary, his tone is tender-hearted, since his aim is to console and assure his friends: Don’t worry. Just keep following my instruction, walking in the Way — and I’ll be with you. In fact, our companionship will be even closer than it is now. Today we walk side by side — but in the days to come I will live in you, and you in me. Today, you walk in my footsteps — but in the days to come you will walk, so to speak, ‘in my feet,‘ and I will walk in yours. You will be my body, my hands and feet and word for a world that needs healing and justice and good news. You see? I’m not abandoning you. On the contrary, I will abide in you, and you will abide in me (John 15:4). I will not leave you orphaned! (John 14:18).

6) The upshot of all this — Keep going in the Way, and we’ll be together, closer than ever! — is that Jesus wants to leave his disciples with a profound sense of confidence and equanimity: in a word, “peace” (John 14:27). John writes in Greek, of course, but in the background here is the ancient Hebrew notion of shalom — not just the absence of conflict, but the vibrant presence of personal and communal well-being. My peace I give to you, Jesus says near the end of this chapter, a sentiment he’ll repeat when he appears to the disciples after his passion and resurrection (John 14:27; 20:19,21,26).

Takeaways:

1) At its heart, this is a passage of consolation, of Jesus reassuring dismayed disciples — then and now — that he isn’t abandoning them. He will not leave them orphaned. And he doesn’t interrupt this care and consolation with a jarring aside, a stern pronouncement about excluding other people from salvation (!). No, his remark, “No one comes to the Father except through me” is intended to calm and console his friends, to give them “peace” in the midst of turmoil. He’s saying, Don’t worry: I’m leaving, but we’ll still be together. Just keep going toward God in the Way we’ve been traveling, and I’ll be with you — for I am the Way! I am the Divine Logos! As long as you’re going toward God, you’ll be going “through” and with me…

2) Here’s another way of looking at it: In this story, no one has asked Jesus, “Who gets to go to God? Just your followers? Or others, too?” If that were the question Jesus was responding to, then “No one comes to the Father except through me” would indeed be a doctrine of exclusion about salvation’s scope, as if to say, Only my followers get to go to God. But on the contrary, the question that actually arises in this story, the thing Jesus is actually responding to, is more like this: “We’re going to God, we’ve committed our lives to that journey — but without you, our shepherd, won’t we lose our way?” As a response to THAT question, “No one comes to the Father except through me” is a doctrine of consolation about Jesus’ presence, as if to say, Fear not — for as long as you are going to God, you’ll be with me, walking beside me and in me and “through” me — for I am the Way!

3) What’s more, as we explored last week, Jesus has already warned his followers against exclusionary presumptions: “I have other sheep,” he says, “that do not belong to this fold” (John 10:16). Jesus is indeed with us — and we dare not put limits on who is or isn’t included in that “us.”

4) We often think and speak of the good news of Christ’s advent, his arrival, his coming near — but here we learn of the good news of Christ’s departure, his “going away” (John 14:28). Jesus goes away like a tablet dissolves into water: the tablet is gone, but at the same time its presence pervades the water entirely. His absence, then, also makes way for a new presence of the Spirit, all of which gives rise to the community of the church, the movement that will go on to do even “greater works” (John 14:12). In other words, Jesus leaves in order to make possible an even more intimate communion with us, and with creation as a whole: “I am going away, and I am coming to you” (John 14:28).

5) This theme of mutual indwelling is shot through John’s Gospel, and also through the Bible as a whole. Genesis depicts human life itself as possible only via profound intimacy with God: we live each day precisely to the extent that divine breath is in us (see Genesis 6:3, where God says, “My spirit shall not abide in mortals forever…”). Likewise, in Galatians, Paul says, “it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). In Acts, Paul preaches to the Athenians that God is the One “in whom we live, and move, and have our being” (Acts 17:28). And in John, Jesus abides in the One who sent him, and we abide in Jesus, as deeply, organically related as a branch is to its vine (John 15:5). For John, the ultimate goal is not merely to follow Jesus or obey his commandments, but rather to live in Jesus as he lives in us.

6) In practical terms, what would such mutual indwelling look like? It would look like Jesus, and at the same time it would look like us — that is, it would look like us being true to ourselves, the people God made us to be. In a word, it would look like love: incarnate, tangible, down-to-earth love. And from another angle, it would look like peace: not just any peace, but what Jesus calls “my peace,” the shalom of God, a buzzing, blooming, fruitful community, coming and going, alive with the Spirit, healthy and whole.

2023 The Heart of Christianity: God

Why are you bothering with this whole faith thing?  Seriously – what’s your motivation?

I imagine that your responses are along the lines of learning about God, learning how to be a better person, making a difference in the world, etc.  Awesome.

If you blow the whole faith thing, what is your greatest fear?  If you turned your back on God entirely, what would you be most terrified might happen? Sorry for the clumsy wording – you get my point.

In the fourth chapter of his book, The Heart of Christianity, Marcus Borg walks the reader through three sets of comparisons: competing Worldviews, dominant Concepts of God, and resulting notions of the Character of God.  Here is a picture of those three sets for your observation:

 Most of you reading this are at least open to the idea that there is “MORE” to life than the particles and force fields that hold everything together in the universe.  I think I can safely assume that.  (For further reading on this subject I recommend Rob Bell’s What We Talk About When We Talk About God).

Assuming we’re on the same page in our pursuit of “MORE” leads us to thinking about God.  How we get our minds around God matters, as Borg notes: It makes a difference how we see the character of God, for how we see the character of God shapes our sense of what faithfulness to God means and thus what the Christian life is about (The Heart of Christianity, 66). 

With this last quote in mind, slowly read through the Concepts of God and The Character of God comparisons and imagine how these different perspectives shape what being “faithful” might mean.

For some of you reading this, your greatest fear if you blow off the whole faith/God thing is that you will pay a very serious price as soon as you die: hell.  Since CrossWalk is a church that seems to attract folks with no significant church background or those looking to recover from a damaging church background, I know this is true for a good number of you.  The reason you have this deeply rooted fear is because you have been operating in the Supernatural Theism way of orienting yourself to a God of requirements and rewards; a God of law.  Walk away from God and you’re screwed.  Forever.  Sucks to be you.  This view of God has been so strongly set in your brain that you experience real anxiety at the thought of challenging that view.  Yep, really sucks to be you – you can’t even question it without fear of burning for eternity.  Better not question anything.  Just keep doing what you’ve been told will keep God pleased and your butt out of hell…

I questioned it at a fairly early age – I was 13 years old.  I grew up in a mainline denomination as opposed to an Evangelical/Fundamental one.  This means that Supernatural Theism ruled the language, but the “turn or burn” rhetoric was absent from our pulpits.  The notion of forgiveness itself bothered me.  I couldn’t understand the whole “Jesus died as a sacrifice for my sins” piece.  I knew the story and the argument, but it just didn’t add up.  I even asked my sister  Ann, who went into a flurry of activity to help me “get it” – at one point she murmured under her breath, this kid is really screwed up…  True – I was not fitting into the Evangelical/Fundamental/Orthodox story even then.  That understanding of grace didn’t seem like grace at all.  It seemed incongruent that a loving God would punish someone forever if they didn’t believe the right thing.

Some people freak out when they hear or think this. They immediately jump to supposed heretical thinking about universalism, and counter with “axe murders and war mongers better not be in heaven”.  Borg has a good response to this: Unconditional grace is not about the afterlife, but the basis of our relationship with God in this life.  Is the basis for our life with God law or grace, requirements and rewards or relationship and transformation?  Grace affirms the latter(Ibid., 67).  Further, Borg connects the dots between hosting a view of Supernatural Theism versus Panentheism and the life it fosters:

What’s at stake in the question of God’s character is our image of the Christian life.  Is Christianity about requirements?  Here’s what you must do to be saved [and stay saved]. Or is Christianity about relationship and transformation?  Here’s the path: follow it.  Both involve imperatives, but one is a threat, the other an invitation (Ibid., 68).

If Supernatural Theism works for you and is making you more Jesus-like, then keep it going.  It is biblical – it’s just not the only biblical way to view God.  It is a way readily understood by our ancient ancestors who lived in a time when sacrifices were a regular component of religious cultic practices.  I can understand that perspective.  I can respect and appreciate the view.  But I do not espouse the view.  It does not resonate with me, and in many ways creates dissonance, is a distraction, and even a roadblock in my relationship with God and my quest to know God and become more aligned with God in my life.

The panentheistic alternative – also biblical – resonates deeply with me.  In that view there is room for wonder, mystery, awe.  As Borg notes, God is not separate, but right here, and more than here.  Expansive, yet deeply personal in God’s intention and interaction in my life.  I can tell you that I have experienced the reality of the presence of God in this approach, even at times when the other view would tell me it would be impossible to enjoy such presence given my state.

For those of you who have been reared in a Supernatural Theistic paradigm, making this shift really hard work.  Keep it up.  It is worth it.  If you cannot live with it, trust me as one you know personally that there is more to learn.  You can still respect what you were raised with and respect those who really resonate with it.  The songs and verses can still play a meaningful role when viewed in context.  But the good news is that there are new songs to sing that speak a different way that brings life and love into our lives and into the world, that raises the bar on behavior away from law and into covenant and love.  It leads to a deep, mature life of response to the love we experience, and helps us to love more fully personally and as proponents of social justice.  It is rich and deep.  A life-pursuit of discovery and growth.

Open and Relational Theology (ORT).  This approach to God has become part of our ecosystem at CrossWalk.  Tom Oord is one of many voices writing and speaking about it – I happen to think he is especially gifted at making academic thought accessible for everyday people who don’t have much experience with the language and style of academia.  Check out his book, Open and Relational Theology for a great, readable overview.  Here are a few claims from ORT:

·       God knows more than any other being.

·       God is the most powerful presence everywhere.

·       God’s PRIMARY characteristic is love, and therefore does not control anyone or anything.

·       God influences but never forces, which means the future is open and unknown - we affect it.

·       God’s character remains constant, but God constantly changes in response to creation.

The implications of ORT principles are far reaching, challenging long-held beliefs that may not have been valid in the first place.  This can be quite unsettling to say the least.  For me, however, the implications are exciting and hopeful because it means our lives actually matter because we really do have choices and power to cooperate with God for the wellbeing of everything and everyone.  This is better than a genie-in-a-bottle God that doesn’t exist anyway, or a Superman God who ends up not saving the day consistently enough to be very super.  How’s this messing with you?

The Heart of Christianity: the Bible

The Bible is foundational for the Christian faith.  Yet many people have left the church because of how the text has been handled, and how earlier Christianity has demanded that the Bible to be understood.  For people who grew up with the earlier Christian view, the Bible is seen as God’s product, so powerfully influenced by the Holy Spirit that it is inerrant (there are no errors) and infallible (it cannot be wrong).  To question this way of thinking about the Bible puts one immediately on thin ice, and may even call one’s faith into question.  According to foundational statements that support both Fundamental and Evangelical Christianity (both are earlier expressions of the faith), you are not a “real” Christian if you don’t see the Bible as God’s product.  And if you’re not a real Christian, you have no real hope.  Better invest in some fire-resistant pajamas for your afterlife experience…

If you’ve been raised in that earlier tradition, messing with the idea of the Bible as God’s product feels like heresy because that’s how you’ve been taught.  This is a terrifying venture.

Millions of people – and that number is growing – have simply walked away from even thinking about the Bible at all because they know enough to know that to see it as God’s product doesn’t make sense.  Yet the Bible is central to the Christian faith – to chuck it essentially destroys the faith, because it is the central text that shapes the faith in the first place.

This chapter of Borg’s book will be helpful for both types of readers, giving you a way to embrace the Bible without checking your brain at the door, and giving you confidence that your hope may not be in jeopardy – in fact, it may be emboldened.

The primary difference between the earlier-and-currently-loudest rendition of Christianity and what is emerging ultimately comes down to determining how the Bible came to be.  The earlier version quickly quotes from Paul’s letter to his protégé, Timothy: All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work (2 Tim. 3:16-17).  This quickly led to people creating the bumper sticker that says, The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it.  Essentially, that verse is interpreted as saying that God wrote the Bible, even if human hands were used.  It’s not a good or even correct interpretation, but it’s popular, and has been used to justify a lot of awful treatment of people in the world: slaves, women, the LGBTQ community, people of other faith traditions, and people who don’t agree with this interpretation.

The emerging view of Christianity view the Bible as a human product in response to God, written for their current audience with great care and prayer.  The Spirit of God was surely sought and received, but the scrolls the biblical writers wrote on were filled with their fingerprints: their worldview, their sensibilities, their agenda, everything.  If we think about who God is, we can affirm that God would not want to wipe those fingerprints away, as God uses people as they are, capitalizing on who they are, working in cooperation with people’s total identity to bring redemption into the world.  In this view, the Bible is an historical product of two historical communities: Israel and the early Christian movement.  The truth that it contains is related to the time and place in which it was written.  Some of those truths easily relate to all times.  Others are clearly time-specific, need to be appreciated, yet kept as a relic from the past that no longer speaks directly to our current reality.  When the Bible is approached this way, a lot of the problems disappear.

Within the emerging paradigm, the Bible is still understood to be divinely inspired: the Spirit of God surely moved in the lives of the people who produced the Bible.  Their written response to God’s movement is the Bible we hold.  By extension, this way of viewing the Bible has implications for the sacred texts of faith traditions beyond Judaism and Christianity.  Using the same criteria, we can appreciate what they are communicating in their time and place in history, too.

In the emerging view, the Bible is Sacred Scripture.  Our ancestors declared that what we have were the most important documents to the faith in it’s earliest expressions.  The Bible provides the foundation for our belief, identity, and wisdom for how we think about reality and how to live.  The text is sacred in the sense that it serves to connect us to the divine.  The Bible is no less important in the emerging tradition than the earlier tradition – the primary difference is essentially on who gets the most credit for producing it.

The final major distinction Borg recognizes as it relates to the Bible is that it needs to be appreciated as metaphor, and not necessarily literally.  This might initially freak people out who have been raised with the earlier paradigm, as it might conjure up the idea of the Bible-as-fiction, or worse, Fake News.  Borg notes that modern Western culture identifies truth with factuality, and devalues metaphorical language.  When we ask the question, “Is that story true?” we are usually asking, “Did that actually happen?”  This bias toward factuality blinds us to metaphorical truth – something we all operate and employ quite frequently and comfortably without apology, even while we denounce it. We are hypocrites in this regard, as I would guess the two most memorable teachings of Jesus which communicated great truth were parables.  The parable of the Prodigal Son and the parable of the Good Samaritan are widely known and embraced as communicating great truth about the love God has for people and what love looks like when it’s lived out faithfully.  Yet they are stories.  Not factual events.  They never happened, yet they’ve happened a million times.  Metaphor, as Borg notes, is not to be understood as less-than-factual, but rather more than literal.  Read that again.  Borg further contends that “the more-than-literal meaning of biblical texts has always been most important,” and that “only in the last few centuries has their factuality been emphasized as crucial.”

One of my favorite musicals is Into the Woods, which dovetails multiple children’s fables together into a crazy mish-mashed adventure.  I love it because of the truth it speaks about the human experience.  Great truth is communicated through the lyrics and characters and storyline.  The metaphor is more than factual.

With the understanding of the Bible as historical, sacred, and metaphorical, let’s take a look at a text (Luke 8:22-25, NLT) and see what we can do with it, and what God might do with us.

One day Jesus said to his disciples, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.” So they got into a boat and started out. As they sailed across, Jesus settled down for a nap. But soon a fierce storm came down on the lake. The boat was filling with water, and they were in real danger.
     The disciples went and woke him up, shouting, “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!”
When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and the raging waves. Suddenly the storm stopped and all was calm. Then he asked them, “Where is your faith?”
     The disciples were terrified and amazed. “Who is this man?” they asked each other. “When he gives a command, even the wind and waves obey him!”

Debate all you want as to whether this story is literally true.  At the end of the day, however, the metaphorical truth is what will be of actual value.  I am confident that over the millions of times this story has been shared, the application has not been, “So, if you’re ever in a small watercraft in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, and a storm comes on real fast and threatens to capsize you, remember that Jesus calmed the storm.”  I am certain the power of the story has come across something like this: “I felt like the storms of life were going to take me out.  I cried out to God for help.  Somehow, some way, a peace came over me that I cannot explain, and I got through it.  It’s like God gave me calm in the middle of the storm like Jesus did with the disciples.”  For a group of Christians in the first century who may have been consistently hiding from those who threatened to literally kill them, this was particularly comforting and true.  Truth spoken into their historical context.  It was part of the sacred story that helped them understand the nature of God and everything else, shaped their identity, and provided wise counsel to help them move forward in the way of Christ.  This story provided great truth, regardless of whether or not it actually happened literally. 

Here is a helpful tool to help you gain metaphorical truth from a text:

When I hear the story of ______, I see my life with God in this way: _____________.

Let’s  end with a Psalm and a reflection in light of the text we viewed.  Held together, we see that Luke was tying God and Jesus together, to encourage readers to see that thread and have hope.

God visits the earth and waters it.

God turns a desert into pools of water,

a parched land into springs of water.

The river of God is full of water.

God waters the furrows abundantly,

softening the earth with showers,

and blessing its growth.

– Adapted from Psalm 65:9-10

Christ sails with us to the other side.

Christ turns a raging storm into calm waters,

a place of terror into amazement.

The sea of Christ is full of possibility.

Christ rebukes the wind,

softening the storm with authority,

and accompanying our way.

So true.

The Heart of Christianity: Faith

The way we think about faith also varies from person to person, but the prevailing way most people in Western culture understand faith is simply believing in God, and believing certain things about God.  There is billboard that states in huge letters, “There is proof that God exists!”  For agnostics and atheists alike, faith and belief are about God’s existence.  Is that how people have always thought about faith?  Addressing primarily Jewish Christians everywhere, the Letter to the Hebrews in the Bible’s New Testament gives us a picture of faith:

By an act of faith, Abraham said yes to God's call to travel to an unknown place that would become his home. When he left he had no idea where he was going. By an act of faith he lived in the country promised him, lived as a stranger camping in tents. Isaac and Jacob did the same, living under the same promise. Abraham did it by keeping his eye on an unseen city with real, eternal foundations—the City designed and built by God.
     By faith, barren Sarah was able to become pregnant, old woman as she was at the time, because she believed the One who made a promise would do what he said. That's how it happened that from one man's dead and shriveled loins there are now people numbering into the millions.
     Each one of these people of faith died not yet having in hand what was promised, but still believing. How did they do it? They saw it way off in the distance, waved their greeting, and accepted the fact that they were transients in this world. People who live this way make it plain that they are looking for their true home. If they were homesick for the old country, they could have gone back any time they wanted. But they were after a far better country than that—heaven country. You can see why God is so proud of them, and has a City waiting for them. – Hebrews 11:8-16 (The Message)

The word faith is obviously a critical part of the equation in these verses.  In fact, some refer to the whole eleventh chapter of the Letter to the Hebrews as The Hall of Fame of Faith because it lists so many people in Jewish history who were champions when it comes to faith.  Did they understand faith the same way most Western people do today?

In short, the answer is no.  It’s not that we get it totally wrong so much as we don’t appreciate the fullness of the meaning of the word as those who have gone before us.  This is largely due to the massive paradigm shift that took place in the 1600’s whereby the scientific approach to everything bled into theology.  The reason we can be confident that we’re missing out on something is related to the meaning of the word faith over time in the Christian tradition.  In the history of Christianity, there have been four ways to think about faith, each described below.

Faith as Assensus (think “assent”).  The most dominant way most Western people think about faith is that it is an assent to belief in something as true.  Factually true, to be more precise.  Factually true even in the absence of evidence.  As Borg stated, “Faith is what you turn to when knowledge runs out.  Even more strongly, faith is what you need when beliefs and knowledge conflict” (30).  In contemporary culture, the earlier Christian view calls for faith that God created the world just as Genesis portrays, that the Red Sea really was parted, that the sun really did stand still during a battle, that a virgin really did become pregnant, and every other miraculous thing happened just as it reads in the Bible.  Borg points out that there was no conflict between belief and knowledge prior to the scientific revolution, because the conventional wisdom of the day (regarding everything) was totally aligned with theological thinking.  Faith required no effort then as it does now.  The opposite of this kind of faith is doubt and disbelief, which is often viewed and articulated as sin.  Borg contends that this faith-as-belief is relatively impotent because it holds very little transforming power.  This way of faith is one that remains largely in the head – a thinking exercise.  In contrast, the remaining three are relationally understood uses of the term.  What truths do we hold to as “fact”? How about “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; God’s mercies never come to an end – they are new every morning. Great is Thy faithfulness oh Lord!” (Lamentations 3:22-23).

Faith as Fiducia (think “trust”).  Rather than giving assent to a list of beliefs about God, this way of faith is “believing in God as trusting in God”.  Kierkegard described faith as akin to floating in a deep ocean.  Panicking and flailing your arms struggling to stay afloat will get you drowned in a hurry.  But trusting the ocean – that buoyancy is real – and relaxing will find you floating.  Think of the story of Peter walking on water to meet Jesus.  When his trust shifted from the Spirit of God to the choppiness of the waves, he sank.  The Bible depicts God as a rock, a fortress upon which we found our lives.  Jesus invited us to consider the birds of the air and the lilies of the field to teach about this kind of faith.  The opposite of this is mistrust, which leads to anxiety and worry, which is what motivated Jesus’ birds/lilies analogy.  Jesus taught that little faith, little trust in God led to anxiety.  The hope offered in this mode of faith, then, is a less anxiety-ridden life, which is a free life, free to live and love.  That kind of radical trust offers great transforming power. Trust God in the same way that you trust gravity.  Trust in the flow of God like you do the power of moving water over time – it transforms even the roughest terrain. Trust in the love of God to support justice over time – transforming even the hardest of hearts – painfully slowly at times, but surely.

Faith as Fidelitas (think “fidelity”).  This kind of faith refers to a loyalty to a person, a relationship.  Allegiance and commitment of self at the deepest level are intended here.  The opposite, of course, is infidelity.  Cheating on God – choosing not to be faithful – was an issue the Jewish nation struggled with in the form of idolatry.  The prophets told Israel they were guilty of adultery. Fidelity means much more than “not cheating”, however.  Faith in this way implies a radical centering on God so that to love God means to love what God loves.  Bells might be going off in your head as you recall the greatest and second greatest commandments: love God and love your neighbor with everything you’ve got.  It’s ethical, not just a head trip. Jesus’ eyes were changed. He began seeing “others” as “neighbors” and it changed the trajectory of his life. It also got him into trouble, because not everyone is ready or willing to see “others” unequal.

Faith as Visio: “Vision”.  In this mode, faith is a way of seeing, our vision of the whole, of what is.  Borg nods to theologian Richard Niebuhr in his unpacking three ways of seeing.  A first way of seeing envisions the world as hostile and threatening, which leads to a defensive posture warranting our desire for greater and greater security.  In earlier ways of thinking about Christianity, Godself needs to be feared as one who will “get us” in the end if we don’t get things straightened out.  A second way of seeing has us looking at everything as indifferent and uncaring.  While this does not breed the same level of paranoia as the first, it still makes us walk with a tight grip in order to maintain security.  The third type of vision sees “what is” as life giving and nourishing, even gracious.  Faith involves seeing God as generous which leads to radical trust in God, and a willingness to spend oneself for the sake of a vision bigger than self.  It is an orientation that recognizes and elicits freedom, joy, peace and love.  The Christian tradition itself in all its fullness is a metaphor for God – to live within one is to live hand in hand with the other.

Aside.  Borg points out that Martin Luther’s life changed dramatically because of his faith.  Earlier in his life he committed himself to a life of faith in the assensus kind of way.  In fact, it was after he tried his best to live in assent to beliefs about God and beliefs about rules to follow that he came to the conclusion that there had to be another way than the works of and assensus-type faith.  His transformation led him to see differently, trust God, and be faithful – the last three relational modes of faith. 

Is there value in the mode of faith that calls for assent to certain beliefs?  Borg says yes.  Within the faith tradition, there are some big notions that deserve big affirmations: the reality of God, the centrality of Jesus to the Christian faith, and the centrality of the Bible.  He notes that our heritage who created and affirmed the creeds of old weren’t simply making statements of items of belief, but that they were committing to a person – God.  Their affirmations were statements of loyalty.  For them, to believe was to belove. I would add that believing in love as the primary characteristic of who and what we call God is also worthy of our assent that is helpful in sustaining the other relational facets of faith.  Side note: many place omnipotence as God’s primary characteristic, but as Oord notes in his book, The Death of Omnipotence and the Birth of Amipotence, the notion of God being almighty is not founded in the original language of the Bible. Mistranslations have given us the words that connote God’s primary characteristic being all-controlling power.

As I’ve noted throughout, it is very likely that the dominant way you have understood faith is through the assensus vein.  Now that you have learned or been reminded of more ways to think about faith, I hope your appetite for God has been whet as well, that perhaps you’re realizing that you may have sold faith short, that there is more here than we’ve thought before.  Something incredibly rich, life giving, rewarding, inviting, and compelling.

Which aspect of faith do you sense God inviting you to explore more?  Here’s an idea.  Pick one of the ways to develop.  It’s not hard, just reflect on it, pray about it, and ask God to lead you toward it.  Then keep your eyes, ears, mind, heart, and hands open and see what develops.  If you need help, I’d be happy to sort some ideas out.  The point is to develop a robust faith that fosters more divine and less dust…

We conclude this session – as with each session – with a paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer (Jim Cotter):

Eternal Spirit,

Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver,

Source of all this is and that shall be.

Father and Mother of us all,

Loving God, in whom is heaven.

The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!

The way of your justice be followed by peoples of the world!

Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!

Your commonwealth of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth.

With the bread we need for today, feed us.

In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us.

In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.

From trials too great to endure, spare us.

From the grip of all that is evil, free us.

For you reign in the glory of the power that is love now and forever. Amen.

*Note: This is a twelve week series based on Marcus Borg’s seminal book, The Heart of Christianity, with significant input from  the group discussion book, Experiencing the Heart of Christianity by Tim Scorer.

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Easter: New Dawn. New Day. New Life.

Can you remember when...

·      TikTok didn’t exist? Snapchat? Facebook? Myspace?

·      COVID-19 wasn’t in our vocabulary?

·      Working remotely wasn’t viable?

·      Zoom meetings weren’t a thing?

·      Streaming your movies and shows wasn’t an option?

·      When your only way to watch your shows and movies was an arial antenna?

·      TV’s were a new luxury item?

·      Smartphones and tablets didn’t exist?

·      Mobile phones were the size of bricks and only used by wealthy people?

·      Telephones required cords?

·      Telephones didn’t have buttons to push – only a dial?

·      Bottled water only referred to those that sat upon a water cooler?

·      Nobody gave a second thought to drinking from a garden hose?

·      Your home didn’t have a flush toilet?

·      You last saw Elvis?

Can you remember when...

·      Very few churches broadcast their services on the radio or TV?

·      Attending church was only possible in person?

·      Most stores were closed on Sunday out of respect for Christian worship?

·      Bibles were actual books people carried instead of on their phones?

·      The only version of the Bible most people knew about was the King James Version?

·      “In God We Trust” and one nation “under God” were not part of our currency or pledge of allegiance?

·      Literally two thirds of the people in our country went to church on Sunday, and you were an outlier if you didn’t?

·      The dominant teaching of the Church was that God created the heavens and earth and everything in it in six literal 24-hour days?

·      The church was known more for its work championing the cause of fairness and safety for women and children than convincing people to believe as a means of guaranteeing heaven?

·      Most religious authorities viewed God as a distant, almighty judge ready to smite the earth?

·      Most human beings believed that the earth is flat?

·      Most human beings believed that the sun revolved around the earth and not the other way around?

·      There were three popes in power?

·      The Church split over whether or not communion bread should contain yeast?

·      The Church confidently declared that some people may suffer eternity in hell?

·      Religious leaders confidently declared there is no such thing as the afterlife for most people?

·      Jesus’ disciples were hiding in fear that they would face a similar fate as Jesus?

·      Jesus’ body could not be found in the tomb Easter morning?

·      Jesus’ followers came out of hiding and boldly began proclaiming the Good News just like Jesus did?

     Why was Easter so important to the earliest Jesus followers?  Easter served to validate their hope that there was more than the life of flesh and blood, sourced in the presence of God that so clearly anointed Jesus.  Easter also confirmed that the grace of God was extended to them –followers of the Jesus who was just executed by the joint effort of politics and religion.  Everything before Easter suggested that Jesus was wrong (because he died), and that they were hopeless fools with little-to-no-chance of being welcomed by God.  Their fate seemed sealed. The fact that they experienced Jesus alive in a beyond-flesh-and-blood way communicated to them that he was still being welcomed and empowered (blessed) by God.  As his followers, they felt assured that they would be, too.

     We live at a time and in a place where the overwhelming majority of people believe in God and, at least at funeral services, believe in a welcoming afterlife.  This is new, historically speaking. We live at a time of great transition that will be studied as one of the massive shifts in the Church’s history that happens every 500 years or so.  We’re somewhere in the middle of it, and the transition will outlive us.  People in the United States are leaving the Church in unprecedented numbers.  More shocking is the fact that they are also leaving the Christian faith itself, largely because of the poor reputation of the church being too dogmatic regarding its own positions, and far too critical, unbending, and even harmful regarding social issues deemed important today, like equality, fairness, opportunity and protection for women, children, immigrants, LGBTQ and BIPOC neighbors, plus being out of tune with the majority of the United States citizens regarding gun violence and reproductive rights.  Sprinkle in the covering up of the sexual exploitation of children and adults by clergy, and, well, good grief – what’s not to love here?!  Or maybe it is the Church’s demand that you sign off on a collection of books called the Bible as so heavily handed inspired that you must declare it to be without error and incapable of being wrong. Or the requirement to affirm the Virgin Birth, a six-day creation, a literal hell, and a golden ticket guaranteeing heaven because of the human sacrifice of Jesus that somehow means God forgives you 2,000 years later.   Maybe you have considered leaving the faith, too.  Yet, many people – millions, in fact – find great peace, hope, and strength in the same Church that is off-putting for millions more.  How does that make sense?

     Perhaps we should recognize that we are living in our time and space, with information our predecessors did not.  They did the best they could, and with the best intentions, to understanding what is inherently beyond our full comprehension even if we can experience this Greater Other we call God in many ways.  Maybe instead of walking away from the whole thing because of a binary that some have created is an overreaction.  Maybe we should wonder anew about the wisdom of those whose writing has endured, appreciating their worldview without having to embrace it, and seeking the wisdom they gained from their experience. 

     The truth is that the early followers of Jesus experienced something that was beyond flesh and blood in such a way that it drove out their fear and cowardice; something so powerful that it gave them courage to risk martyrdom, so important that most of them were martyred – not due to their violence, but due to their radical pursuit of shalom and the inclusion it demands.

     Their pursuit was like that of Jesus, who discovered fresh insights from the past that led to him proclaiming Good News that was also, simply, NEWS! – God is primarily known as the source of love. For everyone. For creation itself.  Which changes absolutely everything for those with ears to hear.

     Easter represents a new day for the disciples of old and calls us to embrace new days of discovery today.  What do you really believe?  Why? If the best faith has to offer is a more beautiful, more whole, more rooted, more connected, more unifying, more loving, more hopeful, more open, more gracious, more generous, more peaceful, more joyful, more patient, more kind, more of the qualities everyone wants – for everyone and everything – then isn’t it worth the effort and pursuit?

     I invite you to join me on the journey for the next weeks ahead – and discussion midweek if you can make it.  The study has helped many worldwide and many right here at CrossWalk to gain new insight, and to own and rebuild their faith.  The invitation to go deeper extends from beyond me – may you hear the gentle, respectful wooing of the Spirit of God calling you to discover anew what you may have begun to walk away from.

     The Lord’s Prayer is uttered globally every week, and several times a day by recovery groups in CrossWalk’s rooms.  After learning more and more what Jesus was about, I attempted a paraphrase of that prayer, which I invite you to pray with me now:

Our loving, supportive, holy Abba

Who art here and everywhere,

Thy Divine Commonwealth come.

Thy will be done through us.

We are grateful for the gift of food

and work for all to eat their fill.

May we work for a world

where mutual grace and respect abound,

modeled after You.

Strengthen us for the work we’re called to.

Amen. May it be so.

John 20:1-18 MSG

     Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone was moved away from the entrance. She ran at once to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, breathlessly panting, "They took the Master from the tomb. We don't know where they've put him."

     Peter and the other disciple left immediately for the tomb. They ran, neck and neck. The other disciple got to the tomb first, outrunning Peter. Stooping to look in, he saw the pieces of linen cloth lying there, but he didn't go in. Simon Peter arrived after him, entered the tomb, observed the linen cloths lying there, and the kerchief used to cover his head not lying with the linen cloths but separate, neatly folded by itself. Then the other disciple, the one who had gotten there first, went into the tomb, took one look at the evidence, and believed. No one yet knew from the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead. The disciples then went back home.

     But Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. As she wept, she knelt to look into the tomb and saw two angels sitting there, dressed in white, one at the head, the other at the foot of where Jesus' body had been laid. They said to her, "Woman, why do you weep?"

     "They took my Master," she said, "and I don't know where they put him." After she said this, she turned away and saw Jesus standing there. But she didn't recognize him.

     Jesus spoke to her, "Woman, why do you weep? Who are you looking for?"

     She, thinking that he was the gardener, said, "Mister, if you took him, tell me where you put him so I can care for him."

     Jesus said, "Mary."

     Turning to face him, she said in Hebrew, "Rabboni!" meaning "Teacher!"

Jesus said, "Don't cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go to my brothers and tell them, 'I ascend to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.'"

     Mary Magdalene went, telling the news to the disciples: "I saw the Master!" And she told them everything he said to her.

The Choice on Palm Sundays

Palm Sunday gives us a lot to chew on in our time, as it did then.  Jesus’ fans know that he intends to make a dramatic entrance into Jerusalem.  They are poised and ready to lay down their cloaks as a type of red carpet for him, and Jesus had apparently made prior arrangements to ride in on a donkey, which some would recall as a reference to the prophet Zecharaiah’s writing (see 2 Kings 9:13; Zech 9:9).  The crowd borrows from Zechariah shouting their proclamation that God’s chosen leader is arriving to bring peace.  Later that same week, Jesus would hear something quite different: “Crucify him!”  How do we make sense of this?

     The short answer provides a very simple explanation: the audiences were largely different from one another.  The Triumphal Entry crowd was mostly made up of Jesus fans (with others there, too), and the crowd before Pilate was made up of mostly different people (with a few Jesus fans trying not to be “outed”).  It wasn’t that people changed their minds so completely that they wanted Jesus dead after they heralded his arrival.  It’s that the people who wanted him dead probably wanted it before he arrived.  Who were in these different crowds?

     The latter crowd was very likely encouraged to gather by the Jewish leaders who were Sadducees – a branch of ancient Judaism that mostly lived in Jerusalem itself.  It was largely Law-oriented, politically powerful, more affluent, and protective of the status quo they were charged to maintain by Rome.  If they kept the Jewish people peaceful in Jerusalem, Rome allowed them to remain in office with power.  They were also known as ones who did not believe in life after death and took some shots at Jesus around this issue.  When Jesus came into town, disrupting the Temple life by overturning the money-changing tables (a way to seriously rip people off – like currency exchangers who give a poor exchange rate), Jesus made a serious stink.  He was literally challenging economic injustice that was being sanctioned and promoted by representatives of God.  By flipping tables, he was offering a Jubilee of sorts where the books got wiped out and the wealthy were forced to share with the poor whom they abused.  Jesus’ teaching that week further infuriated the Jewish leaders because Jesus was challenging their authority as he offered different interpretations of scripture.  The Jewish leaders, seeing that he had a strong following of people who wanted to see change saw him clearly as an antagonist who would ruin their nation.  They wanted him out, which means they wanted him dead.

     There were others in both crowds – Zealots – who were hoping and praying for God to support their violent overthrow of Rome.  The kind of Messiah they wanted was a Macho Man who would bring lots of bravado and military might to the battlefield.  There were many Jewish people from the region Jesus lived and taught that felt alienated and ripped off by Rome and the Sadducean elite who lined their pockets to stay in power at all costs.  They were confident that since Israel was God’s nation, God would be with them in the fight to save their nation through force.  They were fighting to protect and redeem their land – they were fighting for their faith itself – a holy war with Judaism on the line.  They likely had mixed feelings about Jesus on Palm Sunday.  They perhaps wondered if this guy who was drawing crowds and performing miracles clearly empowered by God would finally call his followers to arms during the Passover celebration – a fitting time for such a feat.  Maybe the donkey was a rouse?  The table flipping perhaps gave them some hope – that was an act of anger for sure. As the week wore on, however, he clearly showed no intention to bring a coup.  Judas Iscariot – the disciple who betrayed Jesus to the Jewish authorities who arrested, indicted, illegally tried and called for his execution – was likely a Zealot who turned on his leader out of deep disappointment.

     There were also Pharisees in the crowd who weren’t happy with the Sadducean leadership but were not willing to take up arms against them or Rome.  Jesus was a Pharisee, ardently followed Jewish Law, but, unlike the Sadducees, believed that there was more beyond the grave (and in this life, too).  As a group, they were not sure what to do with Jesus, who challenged their interpretations of scripture that gave him license to blatantly violate some of the laws they were supposed to uphold.  They may not have wanted to see Jesus killed, but they likely would have been happy to see him fade away.

     Jesus’ followers resonated with Jesus’ message.  They would have chosen to follow him more than they would the leading Pharisees, the loudest Zealots, and the richest Sadducees.  They recognized Jesus as clearly anointed by God, validated by miracles which then supported his authority to offer alternative interpretations of scripture.  This was not a decision without implications, like choosing Dawn dishwashing soap over Ivory or Dial or Palmolive.  To take such a stand was to inherently challenge those who were opposed to Jesus.  There was risk involved and they knew it.  In light of the reality of potentially being excommunicated from the faith community, or worse, getting arrested and beaten by religious authorities, or the very worst, martyrdom, do you suppose they treated their association with Jesus lightly?  Of course not!  With so much on the line, they had to have great confidence in their decision. The rabbis from both the Pharisee and Sadducee camps would have at minimum cautioned them from being lured away from time-honored traditions and interpretations.  The Zealots would have called them wimpy and faithless given their “cowardice” in not being willing to put their lives on the line for the land and people of God’s Chosen. It would have been far easier to simply align with one of the established camps.

     Do you see any parallels from the Jewish characters at Palm Sunday and the following week and Christianity in our time?  Are you aware of very similar dynamics at work today in the Church?

     The differences between various branches of Christianity are too many to address.  Yet I do want to address one issue that is strangely in debate. Like the Zealots of old, there is a branch of Christianity that envisions Jesus more akin to Rambo than Gandhi.  While he may have come in peace, when he comes again, so they believe, he’ll be coming with a very sharp sword.  There will be a lot of bloodshed where people are divided up for slaughter or salvation.  These modern Zealots, of course, will be strumming harps while men, women, and children are slain and the earth itself is destroyed.  No matter – God will make a nice, new shiny one for them in just a matter of six days! This apocalyptic vision of the end times is wildly popular and has basis in the Bible.  It is well known that the Jewish people expected God to bring wrath and justice at any moment, freeing them from Roman tyranny.  The Gospels themselves seem to portray two sides of Jesus – one that looks a lot like Gandhi, and the other, Rambo.  What do we do with this?  How do we reconcile two seemingly different images?

     The ramifications of which image we embrace are massive.  The Rambo branch not only has Jesus wearing all the military gadgetry possible, it also implies that his followers should, too.  And, since they believe that the United States is the world’s greatest Christian nation, then defending it and expanding it with military might is the act of the faithful. To defend and promote the American flag is to be a true Christian.  In this visage, America becomes the New Israel that God will defend to and through the end of time.  This particular branch of Christianity began developing after WWII, but began taking on more extreme positions through the 1970’s and 1980’s, all the way up to now.  They happen to be the loudest voice of non-Catholic Christianity in the United States, and the most powerfully organized and aligned religious body in the United States.  While their strength is waning as people in the United States are leaving churches and Christianity, they still own the largest publishing houses, seminaries, and religious media outlets.  The case they make is, on the face of it, hard to challenge on an emotional level.  Their position is that the Bible is inerrant (has no errors), infallible (it cannot be wrong), and should be read plainly (without the input of non-Christian schools of thought that represent higher criticism).  This means that we can simply read the text and apply it without much effort.  What could go wrong? With this approach, we can embrace a theology where God creates everything at God’s word, male and female are created as distinct, complementary genders never to be confused and therefore narrowly defining marriage, LGBTQ folks are an abomination not to be respected or treated fairly, we’re to take up arms as a matter of faith, and the world is going to be destroyed by God anyway, so no need trying to save it.  Massive implications.

     However, I don’t read the Bible that way. I think the Bible was written by serious, devout, faithful people who wanted to do their best to write what they wrote. I am sure they prayed for guidance and clarity, and I am sure that they sensed God being with them as they took on their project.  I am also sure that more than their fingerprints found their way into their writing.  Their interpretations and hopes and dreams – all informed by their worldview – made its way in, too.  A plain reading of the text doesn’t make much room for that because it is assumed the God essentially guided their quills.  It takes some Olympic level logical gymnastics to deal with inconsistencies and errors, often ending with, “we can’t make sense of it now, but once we’re in heaven it will all make sense.” 

     Is Jesus more like Rambo or Gandhi?  I’m going with Gandhi, who modeled his nonviolent approach to challenging English Imperialism after – can you guess? – Jesus.  What we see at Palm Sunday and through his last week of life is completely consistent with the Prince of Peace that Jesus was.  He rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, not a war horse, a bicycle, not a tank.  Are there passages that wreak of apocalyptic fever that are attributed to him?  Yep.  But I am not sure they are original to Jesus.  If they were, then Jesus didn’t live into them much since he was known for his pacifistic resistance and discouraging violence.  The overwhelming witness of Jesus’ teaching and lifestyle was nonviolence in pursuit of shalom.

     Just like in Jesus’ day, we have a choice to make on the same issue.  Do we really believe that Jesus was the Prince of Peace driven by deep love for all people and creation, or a tough talking, military-ready strongman? Whichever way you decide, there are repercussions.  If you choose the Prince of Peace, know that the largest and loudest non-Catholic voice in the United States challenges you.  It is not an easy stance.  And if Jesus really was the Prince of Peace, how does that affect our personal worldview about violence on an individual level, and on the national front? 

     I wonder if we should view every day as Palm Sunday, an opportunity to welcome and celebrate this one into our world, into our lives, and allowing Jesus to inform the use of our hands and feet, our minds our lips, our calendars, and our pocketbooks.

LOVESTRONG: We Are the Blind Man

The story in John 9 about Jesus healing a man born blind is so much more than a miracle story. This is another story of a character who begins literally blind to Jesus who progressively sees him as a healer, then as a prophet (truth and wisdom teller), and finally as one anointed by God.  The storyline conflict couldn’t have been set up better – a guy born into the epitome of sin and God’s judgment (blindness, as understood in the 1st century) gets healed by a means that required “work” (kneading mud like dough) on the Sabbath (when no work was to be done – one of the Ten Commandments) by an “ordinary sinner” (Jesus) who was not part of the Jewish leadership elite (where it was assumed God’s power for such things resided).  This is a story about what happens when God is clearly moving in unexpected – and unwelcome for some – ways that buck the system.  It’s a story the first disciples resonated with because they lived it out themselves.  Over their time with Jesus, they saw God working more and more in unconventional ways. Their view of him shifted from a magician to a truth and wisdom teller to one the God was clearly working through. Their seeing him differently led them into uncomfortable and painful consequences, starting with being alienated by religious leaders and for most of them martyrdom.

     We humans beings really like control.  It keeps everything in its place.  But how do you control a reality that is beyond our ability to confine, categorize, and predict?  You can’t.  Yet we try our best.  We are experiencing an upheaval in Christianity that has been centuries in the making.  Constantine made Christianity the Empire’s religion and the power immediately challenged the mandate to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly. About 1,000 years ago Church leadership began taking the faith into a dark period where corruption continued to run amuck with literally buying God’s forgiveness with cash or military service.  Roughly 500 years ago the Church doubled down on the inerrancy and infallibility of Scripture – something Jesus himself would not agree with – and categorically rejected science because it challenged the veracity of the Bible.  A century ago, a new flavor of American Christianity began to build strength with the help of politicians who wanted the Church out of the social conversation.  Fear of the Soviet Union and its atheism drove masses to revivals to “get right with God” in case their death came too soon as nuclear war broke out.  The lure of power and prestige led the leaders of those revivals to neglect horrific cultural issues, relegating Christianity to become little more than an individual, spiritual pursuit.  An entire political party so intertwined itself with this flavor of Christianity that to be one was assumed to be the other. Some of these decisions may have been well-meaning, but that doesn’t mean they were wise or congruent with the transformational faith Jesus taught and modeled. Those decisions are coming home to roost, witnessed in an unprecedented departure from not just church attendance, but Christianity itself.  The response from the faith leaders who have been supported by the system people are leaving? Doubling down on the very precepts and methodology that got them there in the first place.  History repeating itself all over again.

     And what might we expect to happen to those who see things differently and question positions that don’t add up theologically or otherwise?  The same thing that happened to the man born blind and the disciples who witnessed the whole thing: kicked out.

     The good news?  Jesus – the teacher and modeler or the transformative Way of living in the Spirit – sought him out, welcomed him, and invited him to follow.  The Sprit of God still does.  To all those who choose to see and proclaim, carry on.

Mary the Tower

I’ve been waiting for the right time to share this with CrossWalk. First, the message Diana Butler Bass brings to close out the Wild Goose Festival could not be better for a Sunday in March - Women’s History Month. Second, what she brings is so helpful for people trying to get their brains around the Bible, especially those who grew up in traditions that forced compliance with the false idea that the Bible is inerrant and infallible because it was essentially written by God through human hands - none of this three things are true, and this teaching offers a reason why we should take the Bible seriously, but with an open stance. Realize that what she is sharing is relatively new information regarding a text that has been in circulation for nearly 2,000 years! We are still learning about the origins of the text in the Bible. Third, the text of Lazarus being raised from the dead (John 11) shows up next Sunday - so we’re a little early but for good reasons. Fourth, the good reason I’m offering this today and not next week is because I am ill. I’ve got some sort of cold/flu thing with an infection to boot. to hear me teach today would be even more painful than usual! Grab a cuppa and enjoy!

LOVESTRONG: At the Bar

Warning!  The following story may be difficult if you have ever been the victim of a religious zealot who wanted to tell you how wrong you are about your faith – and how right they are. It may be challenging if you have ever experienced discrimination because of your gender. And it may be triggering if you have ever been shamed privately or publicly. The woman you are about to encounter had been treated as an apostate by any and all Jews living on every side of her country, had been mistreated as a woman because women are always mistreated to varying degrees depending on the context, and was shamed by her community, forcing her into isolation. What might Jesus do with such a person? How will he exhibit the weakness of God that is stronger than humanity’s greatest strength?

How do you relate to the woman in this story?

Who might you come across who has experienced the world differently than you? How will you approach such a person? What are typical, destructive approaches? Why are they chosen? What keeps us from following the path laid out by Jesus?

Commentary...

Lent 3 (Year A): John 4:5-42 and Exodus 17:1-7

Big Picture:

1) This is the third of the six Sundays in Lent. Matthew has been our main guide this year, and we’ll come back to Matthew on Palm Sunday — but as we follow the lectionary over the next three weeks, we’ll explore stories from the Gospel of John.

2) In Jesus’ day, Samaritans were the descendants of generations of intermarriage between (a) Jews left behind during the Babylonian exile and (b) Gentiles the conquering Assyrians settled in Israel. Thus Samaritans shared a common heritage with Jews, but also were quite different: for example, while Samaritans held that the proper place to worship God was Mount Gerizim (see Deut 11:29), Jews held that it was instead the Jerusalem Temple. Imagine Roman Catholics and Protestants in early modern Europe, with their mutual bigotries, suspicions, and appetites for vengeance. Jews and Samaritans were likewise enemies, their similarities only sharpening their contempt. All this would make this week’s story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman surprising to its early audiences, even scandalous — not least because for many Jews, “Samaritan” was a kind of shorthand for both “apostate” and “adversary.”

3) John presents this dialogue as a companion to a parallel exchange that happens soon after between Jesus and the crowds (John 6:25-35). Here, the woman asks Jesus for water; later, in John 6, the crowds ask for bread. Jesus responds to the woman that there is another, more deeply nourishing “living water”; and later, to the crowds, he says there is another, more deeply nourishing “true bread” (4:10; 6:32). Misunderstanding this special water as physical, the woman asks for it, saying, “Sir, give me this water”; likewise misunderstanding, the crowds say, “Sir, give us this bread” (4:15; 6:34). And then, in each story, with an “I am” statement, Jesus declares his identity (4:26; 6:35). In this way, John highlights a basic underlying choreography — encounter, misunderstanding, invitation to deeper insight — as a paradigm for the learning involved in discipleship (from the Latin discipulus, “student”). Through these stories, Jesus calls us, too, to move beyond narrow-minded ideas and adopt wider, deeper forms of trust in God.

4) This is part of a larger pattern in John in which people misunderstand Jesus because they are thinking too literally, prosaically, or conventionally. Think of Nicodemus (“How can anyone be born after growing old?” (John 3:4)), or the crowds who ask for bread (“How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” (John 6:52)), or the skeptical hometown crowd (“Isn’t this Jesus, whose parents we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” (John 6:42)). Prosaic misunderstanding is a recurring motif in John, and accordingly, should function for us as an important cautionary signal: don’t take things too literally! Open your minds to “higher” or “deeper” or more "poetic" insight, forms of thought more fitting for what Jesus himself, in his conversation with Nicodemus, calls “heavenly things” (John 3:12).

5) Just a page or two earlier in John’s story, Jesus launches his public ministry by driving the merchants, animals, and money changers from the Jerusalem Temple, in effect enacting Zechariah’s ancient prophecy: “there shall no longer be traders in the house of the LORD of hosts on that day” (Zech 14:21; John 2:13-22;see SALT’s commentary here). The idea seems to be that the traders are part of a layer of separation between God and humanity that will one day be overcome. Holiness will overflow conventional bounds, and the-temple-as-we-know-it will give way to a more widespread and direct mode of encountering God. This basic theme surfaces again in this week’s story.

Scripture:

1) What’s most striking about the conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman isn’t its content — it’s that it’s happening at all. They break two taboos at once: one against a religious teacher speaking with a woman in public, and the other against Jews and Samaritans interacting on such intimate terms (asking to share water, for example). John goes out of his way to call attention to this scandalous dimension of the dialogue — and sure enough, both the woman and the disciples are taken aback (John 4:9,27). Two fault lines of social division — gender and religious/ethnic sectarianism — are brought front and center.

2) From the outset, Jesus’ language signals to his listeners that he has in mind an unconventional meaning for the word “water,” just as he does later for “bread” in John 6:25-35. For here is “water” and “bread” that comes not from the ground or the clouds but from a person, and for those who partake, “hunger” and “thirst” are banished. This is something more than a meal ticket, and indeed something more than physical hunger and thirst. Jesus is talking about a deeper, more profound form of nourishment and wellbeing.

3) By John 6, it comes clear that Jesus is using “eating” as a metaphor for “learning,” for “taking in” and metabolizing the life-giving instruction of the incarnate Logos (see SALT’s commentary on John 6 here). This week’s story highlights two consequences of this instruction, two principal features of the Way of Life Jesus recommends: first, that we subvert and dismantle divisive hierarchies, like the one patriarchal societies create between men and women. And second, that we build bridges over religious and ethnic sectarian divides, like the one between Jews and Samaritans. In a word, the Way of Jesus comes down to this: reconciliation.

4) The conversation itself implicitly exemplifies this barrier-breaking and bridge-building, but it also makes explicit the reconciliation at the heart of the Gospel. The woman challenges Jesus to clarify an ancient dispute: “Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem” (John 4:20; the Greek word for “you” here is plural, as in, “you Jews”). Jesus proclaims that “the hour is coming” when this religious divide will be overcome, and both Jews and Samaritans will worship God “in spirit and truth” (John 4:21,23). Just as in the cleansing of the Temple, Jesus points toward a new epoch in which holiness will overflow conventional bounds, reconciling ancient enemies.

5) It’s worth remembering that the Gospel of John was written after the Roman armies had destroyed the Jerusalem temple, a period when both Jews and early Christians were struggling to make sense of the world without what they had considered its sacred axis. Rabbinic Judaism eventually refigured “the temple” in the home, and early Christians refigured “the temple” as the body of Jesus, which is also the body of the church.

6) In Exodus, too, the presence of “living water” is a sign of God’s abiding presence with us. In the story of Moses striking the rock, the wandering, anxious Israelites ask a fundamental question, the doubt lurking beneath all other doubts: “Is the LORD among us or not?” (Ex 17:7). The presence of a new spring gives them the courage and consolation they require; and likewise, the “living water” Jesus provides becomes a “spring of water” within us, an ongoing sign that Jesus is Emmanuel, “God with us” (John 4:14).

Takeaways:

1) For John, Jesus’ arrival signals the dawn of a new era, a new intimacy with God, a new conception of “the temple” not as a building but as a person “in spirit and truth,” Jesus himself, God’s Word made flesh. The old sacrificial system must end; there's no need for animals and money changers, and no need for competing sacred sites, either. In fact, these aspects of the old system are impediments to the dawning new day.

2) And “the old system,” as it turns out, is made of more than brick and mortar and money and sacrifice. It’s also made of social barriers between men and women, Jews and Samaritans, friends and enemies, insiders and outsiders, “us” and “them.” But Jesus heralds a new era of reconciliation: Take down the barriers!  Bridge the divides! For the hour is coming — and is now here! (John 4:23).

3) What’s driving Jesus in all of this? It’s the ancient passion of the Jewish prophets, a sacred zeal that moves against and beyond the sacrificial system of dead animals and toward an intimate simplicity of prayer, spirit, and truth, unbound by any particular building, mountain, or economic arrangement. 

4) And it’s an ancient passion, too, for the coming of God’s Jubilee, a new exodus from all bondage, a new freedom to abide in God, as God abides in us, in a world drenched with divine presence and glory. These ideas are shot through the prophets: think of Jeremiah’s “temple sermon” (Jer 7), or indeed his prophesied “new covenant” in which God’s law is written on our hearts (Jer 31:33). Think of the devastating critique of sacrifice in Isaiah, Hosea, and Amos (Isa 1:11; Hosea 6:6; Amos 5:22), or the famous verse in Micah, contrasting animal sacrifices with justice, kindness, and humility (Micah 6:6-8). In his own way, Jesus picks up this prophetic mantle. At its heart, his mission is about dismantling the barriers that keep us apart from God and neighbor — and in that sense, his mission is finally about reconciliation, mutual indwelling (“Abide in me, as I abide in you” (John 15:4)), and living a just, kind, and humble human life.

LOVESTRONG: Mysterious Ways

     Today we will be blessed by three examples of feminine power as we launch into Women’s History Month.

     In the year 486 BCE, Xerxes, son of Darius the Great and grandson of Cyrus the Great became King of the Persian Empire.  Susa, in present day Iran, was his home base.  Three years after he became king – and after a successful military campaign dealing with an uprising in Egypt – Xerxes threw a dinner party for all his buds.  His wife, Vashti, threw her own party for her girlfriends.  Thoroughly drunk on wine or ego or power or all the above, Xerxes started bragging about how beautiful his wife was to all the boys.  At one point he thought it would be neat to show her off so they could see for themselves, so he sent for her.  She refused to come for unknown reasons – a very powerful move.  Still drunk, he summoned his equally drunk advisors about how he should respond to such a public rejection.  Rather than find out if there was a good reason why she could not make an appearance, Xerxes and his “Yes Men” decided to make an example of her so that women everywhere would respect their husbands. She was stripped of her crown and banished from the King’s presence.  Women everywhere certainly got the message, but it probably wasn’t one of increased respect for Xerxes. Yet it probably did engender respect for Vashti.

     Once sobered up, Xerxes began to feel bad about his reaction. But before he got too mushy, his servants recommended that a wide search take place to find him a range of virgins from all over his Empire from which he could select new wives – one might even be suitable for Queen!  Sorrow was replaced by something else, and the search was on.

     Esther, a Jewish woman who lived in the area along with others in the diaspora, was apparently the exact kind of beautiful Xerxes liked. In 479 BCE, she became queen (but chose not to mention her Jewish ancestry).  Her adopted father-and-cousin, Mordecai, stayed close to guide and protect her from a distance.  At one point, he was instrumental in foiling an assassination attempt on Xerxes’ life.  Mordecai was a strongly principled man deeply committed to his Jewish faith.  When an antisemitic man named Haman became Xerxes’ top advisor, demanding to be bowed to wherever he went, Mordecai refused based on his allegiance to God, the only one worthy of such respect.  Such behavior drove Haman nuts – so much so that he went way over the top with a plan to seek revenge.  Instead of simply punishing Mordecai for his insolence, he instead deemed it appropriate to design a pogrom to commit genocide instead.  He even offered to fund it himself, but likely lined his pockets instead.  All Jews were to be killed and their property plundered in the last month of the year.

     Mordecai let Esther know of the plan and begged her to consider pleading with Xerxes on behalf of the Jewish people. Perhaps she was born for such a time as this? Esther immediately jumped at the idea and ran to Xerxes exerting her marital rights for an audience and demanded action. That’s nothing close to the truth.  Recall what happened to Vashti for simply refusing to get paraded around when she was hosting her own event.  Esther was surely aware of it.  More than simply refusing a visit, she would be challenging a decision he authorized.  How likely would Xerxes empathize with her, admit his mistake, and change everything? She was terrified for good reason.  She asked Mordecai for the Jewish people in Susa to join her in a three day fast leading up to her subtle request for an audience with Xerxes.

     In a series of strong moves from a strong woman, Esther put on her royal garb and stood outside Xerxes’ court, hoping he would notice her and welcome her presence.  He did notice her and called her to him, stretching out his scepter for her to touch – a weird way of offering the microphone. He asked her to speak her mind and make her request – anything she wanted, really.  She asked to host a dinner party for him and Haman.  He granted the request and showed up for dinner that night.  Again, he asked what she wanted, and she asked to host him again the following evening.  He granted that request. After dinner, he once again offered to grant whatever she wished.  She told him about what Haman had planned and begged for help.  He did!  One of the first ways he helped was to immediately hang Haman (on gallows created for Mordecai) and kill his sons to insure he couldn’t cause any more harm.

     Unfortunately, the edict was still in play, so Esther again bravely and passionately asked for help to craft a new edict granting the Jews permission to defend themselves against those who planned their demise. Xerxes granted the request, and the Jewish people were saved.  This week marks the Jewish festival of Purim, remembering the story of Esther and lampooning the foolish character Haman.  It is one of the few days that rabbis are encouraged to get thoroughly drunk and act like idiots.  Side note: The Book of Esther is the only book in the Bible that has no reference to God.  Hmmm. What do we make of that? Are we to assume God was not at work?

     During the first week of April, 30 CE, Jesus was in Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover.  One evening a respected Jewish leader and member of the Sanhedrin, Nicodemus, paid him a visit.  Nicodemus resonated with the Pharisaic tradition as did Jesus, which meant that he was devoted to the keeping of the Law and was also open to the nearness of God’s activity and the hope of life beyond the grave.  He came to get to know Jesus, who was gaining renown.  It was past sundown. The darkness mentioned wasn’t just about the time of day – John’s Gospel is hinting that Nicodemus himself was in the dark.

     The knowledgeable Nicodemus soon found himself out of his depth as Jesus talked about being born again from above, and being responsive to the Spirit of God like sailors would the wind.  To be born again is to live in God.  Looking upon and learning from Jesus brings healing and wellbeing, much like the snake on the staff that Moses lifted in his day.

     Jesus noted that all of what he was doing and saying originated with the love of God for the whole world, for the world’s healing and wellbeing, not judgment and destruction which religion all-to-often trumpets.  It was a lot for Nicodemus to take in.  He left with more questions than answers.  He would come around to understanding eventually, but it took time – as it nearly always does.

     Jesus was offering a fresh take on what it meant to be people of faith.  He was emphasizing a relational dynamic between God and people and planet that was far removed from our lizard brain tendency toward genie-in-the-bottle transactional thinking whereby we follow the rules and God looks out for us.  More crassly, we manipulate the game so that if we do our part, God must do God’s part if God is faithful. In this way we become God ourselves, giving into the second temptation Jesus entertained (and defeated).

    The Way Jesus was espousing is deeply relational and ever responsive, all aimed at transformation on every level.  It is more about being aware of the dynamics at play in ourselves and around us, listening for the still small voice to offer guidance. It doesn’t need to pay much attention to the letter of the Law and it’s keeping because in following the Spirit the Law is fulfilled.  This is where the magic happens.  Imagine if everyone, everywhere, was attuned to the leading of the Spirit of God.  How quickly would wars end, unjust economic structures torn down, inequality and unfairness be eliminated, sustainable approaches to healthy food production embraced, human trafficking stopped (and reparations of some sort made), and substance abuse no longer relevant? Consider any of the world’s ills – would they not be addressed comprehensively if we all followed the same voice?

     A critic may argue that this is impossible, because one person’s interpretation of the Spirit’s leading could be entirely different than another, right? Wouldn’t a Christian slave trader in the 1600’s believe they were doing God’s bidding given the teaching of the Church at that time? Same goes for the slave owner in early American history.  What about the antisemitic advocates of Nazism?  One person’s dreamy vision of God is another person’s nightmare.

     Yet that’s where Jesus’ own parameters come into play.  Jesus’ entire schtick is rooted in the love of God and in the Jewish idea of shalom – wellbeing, harmony, peace – for people and planet.  If love is the guiding force – a love that loves all equally – those attitudes and behaviors that are destructive toward self or others or creation itself would be off the table. Sorry, slave traders, slave holders, Nazis, and every other form of self-centered worldview that benefits itself at the expense of others.  Theologian and author, Tom Oord, in his book, Puriform Love, defines love as “to love is to act intentionally, in relational response to God and others, to promote overall well-being.”  When we understand that this is God’s nature, Jesus’ ethos, and our invitation, all our greatest hopes for ourselves and everyone and everything else come into view along with a roadmap.

     Following the Spirit of God – flowing with such Wind – is also incredibly freeing.  By the way, are you aware that the Holy Spirit in Hebrew and Greek are feminine words?  How much stronger can you get that the essence of God is feminine! For the love of God, pay attention Southern Baptist Convention – empower women to preach – God has been from the beginning!  This strong, feminine presence enabled Jesus and his followers to pick grain on the Sabbath to deal with their hunger, venture into leper colonies because they needed to be loved, offer grace to prostitutes, restoration to traitorous tax collectors, and friendship with Samaritans and all other foreigners.  The freedom of the Spirit allowed the newly formed Jewish Jesus followers to justifiably abandon the bulk of Jewish Law because, as Jesus noted, loving self and neighbor – in themselves an act of loving God – fulfills the entire Law.  He was essentially saying that love is the point of everything.  He also noted that God’s motive in empowering Jesus was love for the world, not disdain.

     It was my love and hunger for knowing God more deeply that transformed my life as a teenager, as a college student, as a young pastor, and even now as a not-quite-as-young-but-just-as-freakishly-muscular pastor... It has helped me think more deeply about some points of orthodoxy which simply don’t add up and let them go.  It has allowed CrossWalk to become the fluid body that we are, known mostly for our love expressed in service.

     While Jesus and Judaism certainly had much to say about the depths of love, the reality is that such whispers can be heard by everyone, everywhere, regardless of their theological leanings.  Love is deeply universal. Love is at the core of our being.  Even adamant atheists can hear the call of love and respond lovingly, thus somewhat unwittingly and faithfully following the Spirit of God they do not believe in!  The wrong questions revolve around the length of the train of God’s robe in heavenly dwelling places and how many angels can stand on the head of a needle.  The right query is about the nature and calling of love.

     Could it be that the only book in the Bible that does not mention God doesn’t need to because it is filled with God, with love?  What else would motivate Mordecai to caution the King regarding the assassination attempt?  What else would motivate Esther to risk everything in seeking Xerxes’ help?  Why would Esther call for a three day fast if she did not believe that something happens when people are so dedicated to such a mindful practice? Why would Esther risk her life again seeking more help from her disreputable husband? Love is present throughout the story, and it is powerful.  Jesus lived love.  His later disciples would say that God is love.

     You who have a messed-up life right now – what is your next loving move?  Take it.  You who are in conflict with your significant other – what is a loving move you could take?  Take it.  You who are caught up in the tension of our news cycle – what does self-love look like?  Do it.  You who are caught in a cycle of unforgiveness, realizing that carrying such hatred is like eating poison waiting for the object of your hatred to die – what does love instruct you to do? Do it.  You who are worried about the state of our earth – what does love compel you to do?  Do it.  Whatever your challenge, whatever your hope, listen for love and trust its source.  Put on your Nikes and just do it.

     We are living in the Spirit of God like fish live in water.  Ask a fish about water and the fish will ask back, what is water?  Could it be that we are so surrounded by the love of God that holds everything together that we are blind and deaf to it? May we today choose to see, choose to believe, and choose to love.  May we be brave enough to set aside our doubts about the particulars of theology and choose to fully embrace what we know to be the end and means of God – love.  May we celebrate with our Jewish brothers and sisters that Haman’s hatred was defeated by love, that even though his pockets were lined with bribes, there was a power greater than greed that won the day. May we celebrate by raising a festive glass and toast the wonderful news that we don’t have to have all the answers, we don’t have to have it all figured out, so long as we can agree on love and be love to one another. This is our invitation for eternity and for eternal life. Amen. May it be so. Amen.

Eternity is not infinity.

It is not a long time.

It does not begin at the end of time.

In its entirety it always was.

In its entirety it will always be.

It is entirely present always.

– Wendell Berry

LOVESTRONG: Tempted

After Jesus’ baptism, we are told in Matthew’s Gospel that he went into the wilderness for 40 days.  He fasted the whole time, which suggests that his time away was spent not for vacation but for spiritual clarity.  He was famished, but was he any clearer on who he was going to be?  Enter Satan, a prosecuting attorney type of character who, like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, was there to test Jesus’ mettle.  Three temptations were issued – turn stones to bread to satisfy hunger, jump off the pinnacle of the Temple in Jerusalem to see if God would catch him, and finally bow down to Satan to gain global power.

     There are some practical things we can learn from every temptation that can help us live better lives.  Being mindful of the why behind our needs and wants keeps us from being primarily controlled and motivated by our bellies/passions.  The fact that the moral behavior of self-identified Christians is not much different than those with no religious affiliation tells a story. Paul chastised the Corinthians about their eating habits that were out of step with Jesus’ Way. Being aware of our theology keeps us from playing God as evidenced in our prayers and piety – are we living out a transactional contract with God that puts us in control? Is that what faith is all about?  Unfortunately, there are plenty of examples of how Christianity opted again and again for dedication to an orthodoxy of “right beliefs” instead of one of “believing in the right way”, resulting in season after season of rigid, demanding legalism akin to what Jesus challenged in his day (which got him killed). The Apostle Peter struggled with this – as did the earliest disciples – and so do we.  Staying aware of our ongoing lust for power and control on every level of our lives helps keep us from giving in to such temptation.  There is no shortage of evidence regarding how the Church has failed here, often becoming the useful idiots of those in power unawares. Judas certainly struggled with this, as have others who have wanted power and domination instead of the weakness of God.

     The practical takeaways are helpful and good.  But they miss the deeper point.

     Jesus was Jewish. Any self-respecting Jew would have bells going off in their head at the mention of a 40-day trek through the wilderness as it would call to mind Israel’s 40-year journey through the wilderness enroute to the Promised Land after the exodus from enslavement in Egypt.  If that weren’t enough, every retort to the temptations was a quote from Moses found in the book of Deuteronomy, where he reminded the wandering people what they had learned along their four-decade journey. The journey was deeper than self-help practical tips for living a successful life.  Israel’s journey – and Jesus’, too – was a course on learning the Way of being in relationship with God, trusting in God more than our lizard brains.  Will we place our faith in our counter-intuitive, counter-cultural relationship with God or will we opt for what is familiar and comfortable?

     This LOVESTRONG series is built on Paul’s radical statement that the weakness of God is stronger than the greatest human strength.  It is the weakness that fools us because it initially doesn’t add up. The weakness can be thought of in a range of ways – humility, self-sacrifice, choosing the other over self, giving ourselves away and trusting that it will somehow work – none of these computes in a world of lust for immediate need fulfillment, control, and power.  But that lust and the way we are prone to react had led to perpetual pain and suffering, especially on the part of the most vulnerable.

     The Way of Jesus is different, just as the Way the people of Israel were taught.  The Way of God is a way of weakness that trusts in something deeper, more beautiful that works on a profoundly elemental level. The weakness of God trusts in the nature of reality to work as it should instead of controlling outcomes. It trusts that the Spirit of God is at work in ways we don’t fully understand.  When we follow that weak, humble way, people thrive in loving equality and equity because we won’t tolerate abuse of other human beings for the sake of passion, piety, profit, or power. We will not allow our home – creation itself – to be treated in ways that jeopardize the future based on our apathy, pride, and lust for more and more and more to our detriment.

     The Way called Israel to live deeper and weaker. The Way called Jesus.  The Way calls us to an entirely different operating system that looks weak yet is strong. Will we consider it as we are tempted by our passions, false piety, and power?  Will we choose the weak way of Jesus who humbled himself even to dying on a cross for the love of the world? Will we be wooed to loving ourselves, our neighbors, and our planet so deeply that all thrive?

Katie Choy-Wong

Enjoy this interview with Katie Choy-Wong, author of Building Lasting Bridges: An Updated Handbook for Intercultural Ministry. Hosted by Stephen Corley. Get this free workbook with lots of exercises to help us all build lasting bridges!

LOVESTRONG: Choosing Humility Over Hubris

The poet declares at the beginning of the longest Psalm which celebrates walking in the Way of God (Psalm 119:1-3 NLT):

Joyful are people of integrity,
    who follow the instructions of the Lord.
Joyful are those who obey his laws
    and search for him with all their hearts.
They do not compromise with evil,
    and they walk only in his paths.

     Sounds good. Simple, even. What’s so difficult about that?

     Moses, in his swan song, instructs the people he led out of Egypt toward the Promised Land to make a choice to follow the Way of God – something they had been learning to do during their 40-year Exodus from slavery:

“Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses. Now I call on heaven and earth to witness the choice you make. Oh, that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants might live! You can make this choice by loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and committing yourself firmly to him. This is the key to your life. And if you love and obey the Lord, you will live long in the land the Lord swore to give your ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20 NLT)

     Sounds a lot like the Psalmist. Still sounds simple.  Should be an easy decision.

     Many centuries later we catch up with Jesus as he was teaching his famous Sermon on the Mount.  In this section of what I call his stump speech, he encourages a broader and deeper understanding of the Way of God:

“You have heard that our ancestors were told, ‘You must not murder. If you commit murder, you are subject to judgment.’ But I say, if you are even angry with someone, you are subject to judgment! If you call someone an idiot, you are in danger of being brought before the court. And if you curse someone, you are in danger of the fires of hell (Gehenna – you’re throwing your life away). – Matthew 5:21-22 NLT

     Makes a lot of sense. Kind of simple and perhaps even obvious?

     Roughly two decades after Jesus died, the unlikely Apostle, Paul, wrote to the church he founded that was struggling in surprising ways:

But for right now, friends, I’m completely frustrated by your unspiritual dealings with each other and with God. You’re acting like infants in relation to Christ, capable of nothing much more than nursing at the breast. Well, then, I’ll nurse you since you don’t seem capable of anything more. As long as you grab for what makes you feel good or makes you look important, are you really much different than a babe at the breast, content only when everything’s going your way? – 1 Corinthians 3:1-3 NLT

     Hmmm.  Interesting. A little embarrassing for the Corinthian church members. Paul is saying that they were struggling with something that appears to be quite simple and basic: choosing the Way of God over less beneficial ways.

     Each of these forms of instruction was getting at the same thing: follow the Way of God, which inherently requires a different kind of strength than our human nature recognizes.  A way of being in the world that is countercultural and counterintuitive.  An approach to life that is generally not reflected in our images of heroism and strength.  This series, LOVESTRONG, seeks to examine the weakness of God that Paul was referring to, which he claimed to be stronger than the greatest human strength (1 Cor. 1:25).  How do we see it in the verses we see here?  What is the weakness of God?  What is it in contrast with?

     In his writing to the Corinthian church, the weakness Paul is referring to is a lived-out humility, a selflessness, a servanthood orientation reflected in Jesus’ death on the cross.  Jesus was falsely accused, wrongfully tried, found guilty on trumped up charges, and punished well beyond what would be appropriate for his actions, which included his torturous death. All the way through what we call the Passion, Jesus refused to play the game: he didn’t fight back with words or swing back with his fists. Instead, he chose humility.  What a wimp?

     We like our heroes tougher than Jesus.  At least in appearances.  There were some moments in Jesus’ life when he couldn’t hold back, and he called out religious leaders appropriately.  But what was he calling out?  Hubris.  The way Jesus was living and teaching – the Way of the Spirit of God – was and is humility, not hubris.  The religious leaders were rigid in their interpretation and execution of the Law.  They knew the right answers. They were certain.  Jesus, in his humility, offered ways to think that challenged such an approach, which is what got him in trouble. 

     Hubris – being a loudmouth, the invulnerable tough guy, the know-it-all – is easy.  We view hubris as confident strength as human beings.  Yet it takes great humility – which requires much more courage – to be vulnerable enough to be aware of what we’re thinking and feeling and why, of recognizing when we’re not seeing things accurately or fully, of choosing a different approach than we had before.  The Way of the Spirit of God requires humility because it constantly requires us to be humble, to assess where we are, what we’re thinking, and what we’re doing in light of Jesus. 

     Humility – a facet of the weakness of God – is incredibly strong.  When we have moments of clarity when we see our connectedness and unity over that which divides us, we find incredible power.  Think of moments when we have seen our country united even though the divisions were still there.  The aftermath of Pearl Harbor.  The response toward faith in reaction to the Soviet Union’s declared atheism.  The assassination of JFK.  The assassination of MLK. The tragic end of the Space Shuttle Challenger and crew.  Mass shootings when innocent lives were brutally taken.  9-11-2001. Natural disasters. In each of these instances – and there are plenty of examples – humanity came together with compassion.  We corrected our pride-focused lenses and saw ourselves and others as human beings.  This is a humility that is easily acquired, but often short-lived.  Such moments may lead to the immediate outpouring of support in many forms, but it often doesn’t last long.

     Real change, real transformation, requires a long-haul type of humility that takes incredible strength and courage, because our nature and support systems always want to pull us back to the status quo.  Moses was worried that this younger generation of Jews would make the same mistakes as their parents, choosing hubris that led them away from the heart of God over humility which saw the Spirit as the source of life and instruction.  Jesus was deeply aware of the reality that hubris had led to power plays by the religious leaders that hurt the people they led. Paul was disheartened to learn that the Corinthian Christians had a short memory and were stunted in their growth to the detriment of the more vulnerable members of the community.  All their counsel to their respective audiences carries all the way to us, asking the same question: are we people of hubris or humility?  Are we satisfied with a certainty that is stuck in the status quo or are we humble enough to be open to whatever the Spirit of God is calling us toward?

     Strong and courageous humility continually braves the question, how has my life experience shaped my way of seeing things?  Have you had one of those moments where you are looking for your sunglasses only to realize you were already wearing them?  We are always wearing lenses that shape how we interpret the world we live in.  We cannot help it, and we cannot not be shaped by it.  Our respective lenses help us see some things more clearly than others, yet also blur our vision in other areas.  Realizing that we are not seeing reality without “correction” is the first step toward seeing more clearly.  But that is difficult to do because our hubris rarely wants to admit that we may be wrong. This is a bummer, because our lenses are always on all the time, and if we aren’t humble enough to recognize it, we will be bumping into a lot of furniture and people, tripping our way through life potentially injuring ourselves and/or others, even unwittingly at times.

     This impacts all areas of life, and it informs how we think about race in the United States.  I celebrate the very significant strides we have made in our country regarding racial equality and equity.  Indeed, the arc of history has bent toward justice!  Yet we must remember that someone was doing the bending along the way, taking the incredibly challenging role of asking about cultural lenses that had been worn in our country since its founding.  A lot of people have died because those lenses were not recognized out of hubris.

     I grew up in a predominantly white environment.  I didn’t have much opportunity to get to know people from other cultures or skin tones.  While I am broad stroking my own story here, I can admit that while I was raised to be respectful, I didn’t understand why it appeared that black Americans seemed to really struggle.  They made the crime headlines more than others, were more likely to be arrested, more broken marriages, less education, lower income, more likely to live in poverty, etc.  This created a lens through which I interpreted race.  It left black Americans on the whole seeming like the problem children of our country.  Why can’t they collectively get their act together?  We never talked about race in my family, and schools only gave a paragraph or two in history classes: everybody knew about slavery and emancipation, segregation, and the civil rights movement, but that was about the extent of it.

     Don’t get me wrong – I was as respectful as I knew how to be and would not have welcomed any notion that my lenses needed to be challenged. It wasn’t’ until college that I began to see differently, in part, because I had meaningful friendships with black students. Partly because my coursework forced me to research just one facet of race: education.  My senior project took on the question of whether race should influence acceptance into college.  Since the 1980’s some colleges accepted black students over white students even though they didn’t perform as well academically.  On the face of it, it seemed patently unfair and unjust.  But the more we researched, the more we realized that we were only seeing the tip of the iceberg of a much larger, very complex, far-reaching issue.

     Black represents more than race and skin tone.  It represents culture as well.  Black culture – like any culture – has its own way of speaking and being in the world (and, of course, while there is a larger “black culture” in America, there are lots of nuances within it, just as in white culture).  Language is a big part of that. What happens if college entrance exams – the ACT and SAT – are written from a different cultural perspective, where the language reflects one culture and doesn’t really care about the other?  English may be the language, but that’s not the end of the story. What we learned was that the tests themselves, being designed by the dominant white culture, reflected how white people do language and communication.  The more distant a culture was from the dominant white culture, the worse they would perform on the tests.  This is just one piece of the issue where we need to be brave enough, courageous enough to question our lens instead of defending our hubris.  There is much, much more to know about the iceberg below the surface of the water that I would learn in the years since then – why reconstruction in the South failed after emancipation; why black people seemed stuck in less desirable housing markets; why public schools in black areas underperformed and were under-supported compared to other areas; how the GI bill that helped create the Middle Class after WWII left out black Americans, severely stunting the capacity for generational wealth and opportunity; voting rights and how they impacted elections; the politics of fear-mongering that was and often a thinly-veiled way to further support race-based anxiety; and the justice system that was not and still is not just in carrying out the basic commitment to fair trials under the law – it goes on and on.  It is much easier to double-down on hubris which does not want to recognize any deeper problems.  To wonder about our own lenses requires great humility and courage.  This is a choice, and the choice leads to greater life or more death.

     Moses, Jesus, and Paul in their own way were calling for humility – the weakness of God approach – to take seriously the choices before us.  To examine what is before us. To examine the lenses we are wearing.  Such humility requires great strength, and yet such a Way of being is also the only way that leads to lasting and increasing maturity and wellbeing.  We can’t hubris our way out of a hubris problem – it’s a live by the sword die by the sword type of thing. Jesus didn’t wield a sword.  Instead, he wielded a servant’s foot washing towel which had to be a swallowing pride moment for him and those who got their feet washed.

     I love what our country represents – protected rights and freedoms to pursue a good life.  I love it.  We have made massive strides toward everyone getting access to that dream.  The good news is that we have the opportunity to continue bending the arc of history in that beautiful direction!  It will not be easy, but what a gift!  We get to make our country a more beautiful, equitable place!  And our motivation runs even deeper than our patriotism – this desire for human flourishing is deeply imbedded in the Spirit of God that breathes equally into all lives everywhere, calling us to greater and greater life.

     This day, how will you choose?  The weakness of God that is stronger than the greatest human strength?  Hubris or humility?

LOVESTRONG: Meals of Resistance

     College freshman David Richmond, Franklin McCain, Ezell A. Blair Jr., and Joseph McNeil sat down to share a cup of coffee and a doughnut together.  It was February 1, 1960.  The store was a Woolworth’s Store in Greensboro, North Carolina – sort of like a large CVS with a Buttercream Bakery alongside (for Napans too young to know what a Woolworth’s was).  They did not get served.  Because they were black.  Woolworth’s was happy to sell them goods in the store but refused to serve them food.  This was nearly a century after the US passed the 13th Amendment forbidding slavery in our land and territories.  This led to many other people in many other cities to do the same, a nonviolent form of resistance drawing attention to the obvious difference in the treatment of blacks and whites.  All lot of meaning wrapped around four friends out to get a bite to eat.

     Meals shared by Jesus followers are more than they may first appear.  Why are they even mentioned – ever stop to think about that?  It turns out that a lot of action took place around the supper table – more than just the eating.  Significant events that informed the earliest Jesus followers.  Events that they would remember every time they came together as a community of faith.  Here are some of the meals that they would recount, and in their remembering, they would be renewed in their understanding of what it meant to be a disciple – each a form of resistance to the status quo, each a practice of the better which is the best way to critique what needs to change.

·      The wedding at Cana reminded them that Jesus was proclaiming that the Kingdom of God was at hand, and that it offered an abundance of life and joy and promise and celebration for all who embraced it. This was a resistance against Rome as the bearer of Good News and hope for the future.

·      Remembering the shared drink between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well brought radical inclusion to mind – of people and various theological beliefs.  True worshipers worship in spirit and truth. It reinforced the idea that there is living water that refreshes us and never runs out – the spirit of God. This was a drink of resistance against all the discrimination and hatred that had been building, and instead a choice to live in unity.

·      The feeding of the 5,000 reminded them that the humble witness of one who was willing to sacrifice what he had – a young boy with a sack lunch – could inspire thousands to share what they had so that nobody went hungry that day. Right after that, Jesus said I Am the bread of life – was he talking about God, his way of life, or both? That’s some good dinner discussion. This was a resistance to the fear-driven scarcity mindset and trust love and generosity instead.

·      One evening Jesus dined with some uptight religious leaders when a known immoral woman fell at his feet, weeping, and washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and hair.  Jesus was criticized by his hosts. Jesus turned the table on them, celebrating her hospitality. Then he announced to her that her sings were forgiven. This was a resistance to transactional thinking, an embrace of radical, transformative grace.

·      How could they forget the dinner with Lazarus? He was dead and entombed just days before, and now he’s eating with the gang because Jesus called him forth!  Lazarus’ sister, Mary, anointed Jesus with extremely expensive perfume – likely her dowry – an unwitting gift that would stay with him through his arrest, torture, and death. This was a resistance toward death itself, accompanied by an act of radical generosity.

·      During his last supper with his closest followers, Jesus washed everyone’s feet, reminding them of the chief principle of the way of God: selfless service. This would be exemplified even more on the cross, which Jesus silently endured as a statement of nonviolent protest in the face of political and religious power.  This weak way of God would challenge the worldview of all who understood it. This was a resistance to the way the world thinks of power. The Way views selfless service as the marker of true power.

·      After Easter, Jesus cooked breakfast on the beach while the disciples were out fishing.  The reinstatement of Peter to the fold – and act of forgiveness and redemption – reminded all who knew of it that grace is always available, and that the reinstatement was an invitation back to the way of selfless service, not a promotion to hold power over others. This was a resistance against cancel culture and an embrace of a grace that is honest and restorative.

     When the meal shared with the faith community did its work, it resulted in a deepening love and respect for God, each other, and others.  This was an act of resistance against the normal social order that valued, promoted, and perpetuated classism.  Everybody was welcome around the same table among the people of The Way.  Rich and poor together – crazy.  And yet, even the church in Corinth, founded by Paul, felt the power of the Change Back Attacks (Martha Beck), and needed to be corrected.  Selfishness was an issue.  Wealthier arrived to the shared meal earlier and ate and drank to the extent that the poorer members who arrived later found nothing to eat or drink.  This goes against the core meaning of proclaiming the Lord’s death until he comes, which is to remember that Jesus laid down his life in humility for those he loved – the embodiment of selflessness. Therefore, wait for each other out of love and mutual respect. To really follow Jesus means we choose selflessness, we choose to resist the cultural norms of power and position, and instead opt for a way of being that honors others as equal brothers and sisters.  This is scandalous.  This is the weakness of God Paul referred to that is stronger that the greatest strength of the world.

     On February 1, 1960, four college freshmen took a seat at a diner’s counter for coffee and a doughnut, a nonviolent way to shine light on the fact that they were not being treated as equals in a country that prided itself on equality, that also boasted – especially at that time in our history – as a nation founded on God (a reaction to the Soviet Union’s atheistic Communism).  Paul would have words for Woolworth’s, for local and state politicians, for national leaders, and for pastors and Christians who had succumbed to culture instead of serving Christ.  He would have applauded the four freshman and celebrated the hundreds more who followed their example.  He would have done so not because he wanted to create political noise, but because he chose to live in the footsteps of Jesus, to take the weakness of God approach over the great powers of the world.

     It is good to join our ancestors in the faith and rejoice that one meaning of the death of Christ is that we are forgiven and loved by God unconditionally, which frees us from much anxiety.  Yet to essentially stop there is a decision to remain in spiritual infancy.  Jesus was a man of deep faith in God’s love, grace, and presence.  That faith led him to bold action to bring the Commonwealth of God more and more into life on earth.  To follow Jesus is to choose the weakness of God, the selflessness, the attitude and action of humble service evidenced in the character of God and quite obviously in Jesus.  There is much work to do! We are invited to be part of bringing more and more shalom into the world, to help our country live up to its declarations and aspirations more and more, to deepen the maturity toward a more perfect union.

     Martha Beck offered an exercise that I found quite powerful from her book, The Way of Integrity.  See what it does for you...

Exercise: You are the world

1.     Sit with your eyes closed and picture Earth from space, a perfect sphere of blue, green, brown, and white, hanging in a pitch-dark vacuum.

2.     As you look at your home planet, think about the problems and sources of suffering that seem to threaten it most.

3.     Let yourself focus on something you find especially troubling. It might be racism, political corruption, poverty, climate change, cruelty to animals, war, or crime. Whatever sparks the strongest reaction in you, allow it. Don’t try to get the “right” answer, to choose what’s most virtuous or politically correct. Feel what you really feel.

4.     “Zoom in” on the issue you’ve identified. Though it will be painful, really focus on what’s going wrong. Remember everything you’ve ever learned about it. Know what you really know.

5.     As you let yourself feel outrage or despair about this issue, write down everything that’s wrong about it. Say what you really mean. Make a list. If necessary, continue the list on a separate sheet of paper.

The global issue that bothers me most is creating all these problems:

6. Now write down what must happen to fix this problem. You don’t need to have sophisticated answers, or even logical ones, at this point. Just say (or write) what you really mean: “People have got to stop seeing each other as inferior!” “We must not put any more garbage into the ocean!” “We’ve got to start treating animals as fellow beings, not objects!” Make another list:

Here’s what someone (or everyone) should do to fix these problems:

7.     Go back to your image of Earth. Now replace that image with your own body. If you have a negative reaction to that, know that your contribution to the planet is touched by that negativity.

8.     Look at the problem you’ve chosen as your area of focus. Ask yourself: Is there any way in which your treatment of yourself mirrors this problem? Here are some examples:

·       You may worry about polluting the land and sea but still put a lot of toxic substances into your own body.

·       You may be angry about some human beings seeing others as inferior while seeing yourself as inferior in some way.

·       You may hate cruelty to animals but drive your body—an animal—to keep overworking, staying cooped up when it longs to go outside, or forcing it to do work that it hates.

·       You may be distressed about poverty while “impoverishing” yourself by denying yourself things like relaxation, kindness, play, or free time.

When you think of a way you are inflicting on yourself the problem you see in the world, write it here:

Here’s how my “global issue” shows up in my own life:

FYI: Enjoy this article that speaks more into the countercultural nature of communion.

Becoming Our True Selves: Paradise

     Can you remember the feeling the first time you came across a magnificent sight like the ocean, the mountains, Yosemite’s granite-walled valley, the Grand Canyon, Lake Tahoe, a redwood forest, or the night sky from high elevation at new moon?  When we see such things, we feel awe.  Sometimes we don’t really have words to describe what we’re seeing and feeling.  We feel overwhelmed by the experience.  We just want to stare awhile and take it all in. We take a photo, but they never do it justice.

     Think of that kind of experience and try to imagine amplifying it by a factor of 100 or 1000.  We’re talking about a mind-blowing event in life.  There is a Japanese word for this phenomenon that doesn’t happen to everybody: Satori. Satori refers to experiences where the veil of reality is pulled back and we see things as they really are.  Some in the Christian tradition calls this a unitive vision from a liminal space.  When someone has such an experience, they are altered.

     I think Jesus had such an experience.  Maybe it was his baptism, since all four Gospel accounts remember it as a moment when the Holy Spirit anointed him – like a dove, the symbol of peace – and God was understood to have said, “This is my son, in whom I am pleased.”  After this, according to some of the Gospel accounts, he went into the wilderness.  I think he had a satori and it blew his mind.  He needed to break away and think about it for a minute.

     The Apostle Paul, one of the greatest champions of the Way of Jesus, responsible for taking the Good News from Israel to Rome and also given credit for 2/3 of the New Testament writings, wasn’t always a fan of Jesus.  Just the opposite. We are first introduced to Paul at the martyrdom of Stephen, who was stoned to death for his proclamation of Jesus as the anointed one whom everyone should follow.  Paul – known at that time as Saul (the Hebrew version of his Greek name), oversaw the coat check room.  He stood by guarding everyone’s garments so that they could more effectively throw rocks at a man whose crime was to challenge orthodoxy.

     Saul was extremely intelligent.  He was trained by the best a brightest and was on his way to Jewish Super Stardom.  He was zealous for God and Judaism – so much so that he is remembered for gaining letters of authority to extradite Jesus followers back to Jerusalem for trial, which would likely lead to their torture, imprisonment, death, or all three.  On his way to the ancient city of Damascus (which still stands today) he experienced a massive satori.  A brilliant, blinding light stopped him in his tracks (see Acts 9:1-19).  He heard a voice come from the light claiming to be Jesus – the one who caused all the trouble.  The voice gave him marching orders, which Saul obediently followed.  This experience radically altered Saul, who eventually changed his name to Paul to relate better to a Greek audience.

     The before and after pictures of Paul could not be starker.  Before, he was a zealous legalist who demanded strict conformity to the Jewish Law – all 613 of them – which at one point Paul would claim to be blameless of ever violating even one of them.  Jesus – who lived 10-15 years before Paul’s conversion – was clearly apostate since he challenged orthodox positions of Judaism and was guilty of violating (and challenging) the sabbath.  His teaching and behavior were so egregious that it prompted Jewish leaders to orchestrate his arrest and execution – better to kill one instead of many was their thinking.  In an instant, Paul became the greatest apologist, evangelist, and theologian for the Jesus movement.  He spent the rest of his life promoting Jesus, even though it at times resulted in being tortured, imprisoned, impoverished, and eventually martyred.  Inquiring minds want to know – what the heck happened in that satori to have such an impact?

  That’s actually what satoris do. When people get a true glimpse of “heaven”, they can’t unsee it.  It alters their view of everything in an instant.  Such experiences really cannot be described – they defy description.  Do you know what happened when Teddy Roosevelt sent paintings of Yosemite Valley back to Washington for them to consider it for protection?  They refused to believe the paintings were acurate!  They questioned the validity of what they were seeing!  Why?  Because who had ever heard of a 3,000-foot wall of granite, or a 2,425 foot waterfall, in a valley which has more waterfalls (in the Spring) than any other place on earth?  Who could make sense of Half Dome? The Sentinels?  It is an unbelievable sight. Satoris are all of that times 100 or 1000.

     While the specific experiences people have when they have such visions, there are some similarities, which I think is fascinating.  Two things in particular stand out to me.  First, people see the world differently.  They see the interconnectedness of everything.  It is apparently overwhelming in its beauty and complexity. Such experiences foster a view of the creation where it is seen not as dangerous, frightening, and meaningless, but safe, enticing, and alive (SEA).  They see the SEA.  One example that might help us understand what is seen is the reality of fractals in creation – repeated patterns that show up at all levels and in many things – maybe everything. Patterns of connectedness.  People who experience satori come away seeing themselves, everyone, and everything as interconnected.  We are one. There is one final error that Beck points out related to this: “the belief that there has ever been any distinction between the separate scraps of matter we imagine we are, and the all-inclusive truth that extends beyond anything we can conceive. When we fully dissolve the lie of being isolated within ourselves, we join Dante and everyone else, everything else. We forget ourselves as small, doomed beings on a threatened planet and remember ourselves as “the love that moves the sun and the other stars.”  Because we are connected and inherently joined by love, we naturally see others and creation itself as precious, and worthy of honor and respect. We also recognize that since we are connected, what we do matters – we affect everything one way or another, for good or not so good.

     This brings me to the second thing that jumped out at me about people who experience satori.  The result of the experience is compassion.  They do not emerge from such unitive vision caring less about others and instead choose to become more self-absorbed to the neglect of others.  Just the opposite.  When people see “heaven” they care more and do more for people and all of creation.  They set out to do healing work.  Often, according to Beck, what they do with their compassion is related in some way to their integrity, their true selves, which is connected to who they are as historical people – people with history.  Our healing work matches our true nature.  Where to go to find people to heal?  Where healing is needed, which takes them back into the Dark Wood of Error to help those who are struggling to find their way out.  Devoting themselves to such healing work brings peace wherever we go, a peace that is our true home.  The Jewish tradition had a word for this kind of peace: shalom.  That Hebrew word is what Jesus talked about referring to salvation and the Kingdom of God – they are both about bringing deep peace into the world.

     How did Jesus’ satori affect him?  Most likely, before his experience, he was aligned with the message John the Baptist was preaching.  Jesus was technically a Pharisee. He was spiritual, believing that there is more going on in the world than simply mechanics and biology, that God is active in some way.  And he believed in keeping the Law to maintain favor with God.  John’s message was to get our houses in order for the coming Messiah who was going to deliver Israel from the bondage of Rome in ways similar to what happened with Pharaoh in Egypt.  Jesus came to John to be baptized, a sign of his agreement with that message.  We do not have any evidence from Jesus’ life to suggest that he thought any differently than John as he went into the water.  We have conflicting evidence that John thought of Jesus any differently when he approached.  Something happened either immediately before and/or during and after the baptism: John recognized the anointing was taking place.  I believe a satori happened for Jesus at that moment that was so powerful he had to break away for a while to process it.  When he returned, his message was quite different than John’s, and quite different than what Jesus may have thought before.  Jesus didn’t come out of his retreat talking about hellfire and the end of the world – he did not preach a worldview that sees everything as dangerous, frightening, or meaningless.  Instead, Jesus came back valuing those who were most vulnerable, who had been told they had little value and were perhaps cursed by God.  He came back with an expansive and inclusive view of God, where God is known by love and grace (and related justice) and not wrath. Jesus was changed by heaven.

     But what about Paul?  Saul entrusted his life to the very “enemy” he was out to arrest. Ananias was a Jesus follower who God told to help Saul after his satori.  The fact that Saul trusted Ananias with his life speaks volumes. But maybe that was out of sheer panic.  What else can we look at to help us understand just how powerful this change was?  Instead of maintaining his course trying to eliminate Jesus followers, he almost immediately became one of their most vocal champions.  Unimpressed?  Imagine how startling it would be to hear that Matthew Gaetz , extreme-right Republican congressman from Florida, became a staunch advocate for Bernie Sanders overnight.  Or vice-a-versa.  Unthinkable!  Yet that’s what happened.  Furthermore, Saul mostly went by Saul, his Hebrew name, because he identified first and foremost as a Jewish man.  Yet in due time, he exclusively went by Paul to gain familiarity with Gentiles.  What about his theology?  Paul was a conservative theologian – near Zealot-like in his passion.  At one point he bragged about how exceptional he was:

Indeed, if others have reason for confidence in their own efforts, I have even more!

I was circumcised when I was eight days old. I am a pure-blooded citizen of Israel and a member of the tribe of Benjamin—a real Hebrew if there ever was one! I was a member of the Pharisees, who demand the strictest obedience to the Jewish law. I was so zealous that I harshly persecuted the church. And as for righteousness, I obeyed the law without fault.

     I once thought these things were valuable, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ and become one with him. I no longer count on my own righteousness through obeying the law; rather, I become righteous through faith in Christ. For God’s way of making us right with himself depends on faith. I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to suffer with him, sharing in his death, so that one way or another I will experience the resurrection from the dead! Philippians 3:4-11 NLT

     Paul shifted from reliance on the Law to reliance on faith in the very Christ he wanted to snuff out!  Holy Cow!  He even convinced the fledgling Christian leadership in Jerusalem to pare down the Jewish Law to just two – including the elimination of circumcision!  HOLY COW!  But what about Paul’s life, what changed there?  Paul shifted from persecutor to persecuted, taking whatever licks came to him for proclaiming the Way of Jesus Christ, leading eventually to his own martyrdom.  When we get a glimpse of what we call heaven, our vision changes, our beliefs change, our priorities change, and our hearts move us to care for others at great personal cost.  They are conduits for great peace in the world because that’s where their home is. They cannot not be agents of shalom.

     Martha Beck has not had a satori.  Yet she has learned from those who have that living in integrity – becoming our True Selves – leads us to be shalom bearers.  She has discovered that the greatest use of her life is to serve others.  When she does, she finds herself in peace, at home.

     Want to experience more heaven in your life?  You may at some point have a satori.  But don’t count on it.  Instead, seek the things that Jesus and Heaven are all about – shalom.  When you do, in alignment with truth, we find ourselves at home, too.  In shalom.

Human Trafficking 101

Pam Gumns, Co-Founder of Free The Girls, a nonprofit organization that serves enslaved women toward their freedom, shares much information about this global issue and what we can do about it.

Becoming Our True Selves: Purgatory

     Convergence. Today provides and interesting convergence.  The biblical texts that are being read today all over the world are about the declaration of Jesus as the Lamb of God who came to take away the sin of the world – and then called his disciples to come help him do it.  The Old Testament passage refers to a passage where Isaiah feels discouraged in his work as a prophet of God.  Psalm 40 is a song of deliverance and hope.  We are in part three of a four-part series journeying through Dante’s Divine Comedy with the help of Martha Beck’s wisdom from her book The Way of Integrity, which is about becoming our True Selves.  And all this lands on the weekend here in the United States when we remember, celebrate and recommit to the vision of Martin Luther King, Jr.  What fun!

     Snake Oil? My doctoral work had me take a deep dive into the Gospel of John as I plumbed the depths of Soteriology – the study of salvation.  I was at my wits end as a pastor, feeling like a snake oil salesman pitching a potion promising heaven.  My Doctor of Ministry degree program gave me the opportunity to discover the incredible depths and beauty of what God was trying to do in the world and for the world God created, loves, and believes to be very good.  Part of my struggle was that the classic understanding of Jesus’ life and death boiled down to his death on the cross as a sacrifice for sins, appeasing God’s wrath so that we are assured heaven.  That’s the snake oil potion – drink that Kool-aide and go to heaven.  Taking a comprehensive look at Jesus’ life, ministry, and teachings, however, made it obvious to me that while God’s grace was certainly central for him, penal substitutionary atonement was not.  Richard Rohr has noted multiple times that John’s declaration of Jesus as the Lamb of God to take away the sin of the world is singular, not plural.  Jesus came to address the sin of the world, not to atone for the billions of daily sins by becoming a final sacrifice (that idea developed much later).  So, we’re talking about the sin of the world.  The error of the world, the off-the-mark condition of the world, the something-is-off of the world.  The world, apparently, had adopted a storyline that wasn’t right which was leading to a lot of pain and suffering. The world was believing a story that was a lie, which led it into darkness – a collective Dark Wood of Error.  That lie needed to be seen for what it was – a trip through the Inferno was necessary, which is what Jesus was doing as a beacon of Light in the world.  Purgatory ensued as well, even as he continued to help those in the Dark Wood make their way in and through their respective Infernos.

     Lamb of God. This week a scholar pointed out something completely obvious that had escaped my attention – something that never struck me before.  Lambs were never a symbol for sacrifice.  Goats, sheep, bulls, and birds, yes.  But not lambs.  More specifically, considering the overall context of Jesus as a Jewish man living in the first century CE, and because of multiple related references, we can view Jesus as a Passover Lamb.  Not a lamb that was killed to forgive sin, but a lamb whose death paved the way for exodus – a people living in bondage freed to new life.  A people stuck in the Dark Wood of Error, recognizing their suffering, now being liberated to a new chapter. Jesus was the agent who guided people from the Dark Wood, through the Inferno, up through Purgatory, enroute to Paradise.  He invited and taught his disciples to do the same.  The Spirit of God is still inviting and teaching followers to carry out the same mission.

     Climbing Up Purgatory. Dante’s Purgatory is a mirror image of the Inferno.  Whereas the Inferno began with minor, innocent mistakes and descended to the most grievous errors of righteousness (liars), Purgatory begins with the steepest grades, the hardest climb at the beginning, with the ascent getting easier as it gains elevation.  What is purgatory?  This part of the human journey is when we begin to purge ourselves of the lie-based stories we’ve been living with.  We purge-a-story that needs to be replaced by truth.  Purging such stories is not easy – we face internal struggle and external pressures to keep the lie alive and in place.  Purgatory is where we learn to live in truth, which can be very difficult at first, because we’ve grown used to living the lie.

     Integrity and True Selves. The point of Purgatory is to help climbers become their True Selves, to live in the Way of Integrity: to know what you really know, feel what you really feel, say what you really mean, and do what you really want.  The salvation offered by God expressed through Jesus is not merely one of declaring that you are saved from the Inferno, but that you are meant to be a new creation.  Different than you once were. To be Christian is to be forever becoming, forever learning to walk in the Way of the Spirit, which yields the richest, deepest, and most meaningful life possible.  This is no self-centered, hedonistic life – that kind of paradigm is not born of the Spirit. Just the opposite.  When we are in lock step with the Spirit, we look more and more like Jesus, one decision at a time. Each decision comes with pushback.

     Change Back Attacks. Beck calls the external pressure Change Back Attacks.  What she is talking about is a core tenet of systems theory, which contends that systems work very hard to remain intact, so that when a part of the system steps out of line, the rest of the system works to get it back in place to keep the status quo.  Martha Beck experienced this quite fully when she committed to going a full year without lying. No lying to herself as much as she was aware.  No lying to others.  No matter the consequence.  Note: she did manage ways around social situations.  When someone would ask her how she was doing, instead of offering the culturally appropriate “I’m doing great!”, she instead replied, “I’m a hot mess!”, which would generally be met with a laugh, not any follow up questions. So, she was being truthful. Or she would change the subject and not answer the question.  Her truth-telling meant that she could no longer defend positions at BYU she knew to be false – be it doctrinal issues or lies about the Mormon culture that was oppressive toward women and was hiding moral atrocities as is seen in the rest of the global church.  Speaking such truth made the headlines – at least in Utah.  Her “Way of Integrity” crusade garnered a lot of attention as people found in her wisdom great hope and liberated lives.  She was, if I may be so bold (if not just obvious), doing the work of Jesus.  And, like Jesus, she experienced similar backlash.  The Mormon machine rose against her.  Her abusive father denied her accusations and her family denounced her.  People appealed to the good work her father had done, and that she should just keep quiet.  But to be silent is to lie when silence ultimately perpetuates the deceit.  This is purgatory – learning to live in the light of truth.  At the beginning of our journey to such new ways of being, the climb is very, very difficult.

     Pete’s Purgatory. I can relate a bit to that on a professional level.  As I discovered more and more what I believed to be true based on my academic pursuits, I shared more and more, albeit very carefully, yet organically.  It has not been easy knowing that what I shared over the years has barbequed one holy cow after another – precious pets of faith – making it painful to stay if you were happy where you were.  Many of you who are newer never knew those who once sat in your seats – who paid for your seats.  Purgatory is necessary.  But Purgatory also really sucks at times.  Yet now, 23 years into my role, I can say that while we have new challenges along different lines, the bulk of the theological heavy lifting is likely behind us and affirms something Dante discovered as he made the ascent: it gets easier.  I would even go further, echoing from the saints gone before us but also my personal experience: even if persecution returns, it will be easier, too, even if it is severe, because of where I’ve trod to get here.

     Stories of Liberation. In her book, Beck offers story after story of people who were in the Dark Wood, went through the Inferno to learn the lies they’d been embracing, and started their way up Purgatory.  A man miserable in his military career who stopped believing the lie that he had no choice retired and began new work that gave him joy.  A woman who was given a year to live who chose to use her remaining time checking off bucket list items even though she was in great pain.  Sharee was ready to take her own life out of great despair.  When she took one last moment to reflect, she realized how many lies she had been living with.  She marched back into her life and chose to live in truth instead.  While it was incredibly difficult, she emerged on the other side healthier, stronger, and happier.  Another woman put her life on hold to raise her kids, and felt she could never go after her dreams related to art.  That was a lie she believed.  Once she saw it, she started the climb up Purge-a-Story and found ways to make her life happen according to the truth.

     MLK, Bender. Martin Luther King, Jr., caught the vision and accepted the call to live in truth and help others do the same, which eventually called the entire nation to consider whether it had been living a lie, and whether it would choose to live in truth.  What happened when he began shining a light on the acts of racial prejudice with nonviolent protest?  Violent Change-Back attacks from law enforcement.  What happened when he nonviolently focused that light on the systemic framework that allowed that racial prejudice to perpetuate – the right to vote, the right to ride on any seat in the bus, the right to drink from any water fountain, the right to live in any neighborhood, the right to a good education, the right to military benefits promised to all vets but only given fully to white ones, etc.?  Vehement, concerted Change-Back attacks from politicians, police, and the public in the south.  Only when the nonviolent protestors were severely beaten crossing the George Pettus Bridge did the hearts of most Americans soften and warm toward the cause.  Legislation was passed, and many moves toward true equity have taken place, yet it is a climb that is still wrought with Change-Back attacks.  On January 6, a panel of three federal judges ruled that South Carolina’s First Congressional District is an unconstitutional racial gerrymander. Following the 2020 census, the Republican-dominated legislature moved 62% of the Black voters previously in that district into the Sixth District, turning what had recently been a swing district into a staunchly Republican one that Republican Nancy Mace won in November by 14 percentage points. District Judge Richard M. Gergel said: “If you see a turtle on top of a fence post, you know someone put it there…. This is not a coincidence.”  MLK once quoted another pastor from a century before him that said “the arc of the moral universe bends toward justice”. But it should be noted that it only bends toward justice when those who care about justice do the work of bending, which I believe is born from the heart of God and supported by the Spirit’s power.  Jesus was a bender.  His followers were benders.  Martin Luther King, Jr. was a bender. Martha Beck is a bender. All who strive to follow in Jesus’ footsteps are called to be benders – we cannot help it because we are Light bearers who, when seeing a lie, cannot any longer let it remain so.  Beck notes that the most dangerous places for creating change are also the ones where it’s most desperately needed. A friend of mine reflected on it this way:

     Martin Luther King Jr. from his speech on February 6, 1968, where he spoke out against the injustice of the Vietnam War:

     “On some positions cowardice asks the question, is it safe? Expediency asks the question, is it politic? Vanity asks the question, is it popular? But conscience asks the question, is it Right? And There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe nor politic nor popular, but he must take it because his conscience tells him it is right.”

     This resonates with me on a deep level. Being part of a minority that recently achieved its full natural rights of existence in this country in the last 8 years, I know what it is like to survive by playing it safe, to survive in the politic and to conform to what is popular. To survive meant being in the closet. But it is not enough to just survive. It is not right.

     It is through people like Martin Luther King Jr. and those who were drawn to him who stood up for what they believed, to say it is not enough to just survive, but to live fully and respected for who they were as human beings. That was not safe, that was not politic, and that was not popular. But it was right. It is not enough to survive, but to stand up against oppression of not only our neighbors here at home, but of our neighbors across the sea. That was not safe, politic, nor was it popular. But it was right.

     It is through people who stood up and asked “is it right?” that darkness has been beaten back to illuminate the humanity of those who were banished from society just for being a different color, a different gender, or a different orientation.

     And it is through people like you, who have all gathered here today in remembrance and respect of Martin Luther King Jr. that the torch is once again held high to continue the fight against the dark. And that is Right. 

     Come and See and Bend. The disciples who accepted Jesus’ invitation were all ordinary, everyday people.  They came with varying levels of readiness to embrace what Jesus was doing.  His simply invitation was, “Come and see.”  Some had more time than others when they heard the invitation.  Some were skeptical. Some were deflated.  All were invited to come and see.  The same is true for us.  The Spirit of God meets us in our Dark Wood of Error, guides us down through the revealing Inferno, and leads us to climb toward the heights of purgatory, where we learn to live more and more our True Selves as we purge story after story that is not based in truth.  None of the journey is easy.  Beck notes that the effort, accordingly to psychologists who study happiness, “puts us into a state called ‘flow.’ As we master it, our brains secrete hormones like dopamine and serotonin, which put us in bliss. It’s human life at its most delicious” (169).  Climbing Purge-a-Story is hard, yet so rewarding. So worth it, so liberating, so genuine, so powerful, so life-giving, so impactful, so meaningful, so eternal.  This is what living the Way of Integrity offers.  This is what we increasingly experience in Becoming Our True Selves.

A man went forth with gifts.

He was a prose poem.
He was a tragic grace.
He was a warm music.

He tried to heal the vivid volcanoes.
His ashes are
reading the world.

His Dream still wishes to anoint
the barricades of faith and of control.

His word still burns the center of the sun
above the thousands and the
hundred thousands.

The word was Justice. It was spoken.

So, it shall be spoken.
So, it shall be done.

+ Gwendolyn Brooks

Becoming our True Selves: The Inferno

If you are a real human being, it is very likely that in one form or another, you have been told to go to hell.  Maybe quite literally.  Maybe with “sign language”.  Maybe with looks that could kill.  It is not often that we are invited to go to hell on purpose, for a tour, so that we might learn a thing or two to help us get through all the hells we will eventually endure as human beings.  Roughly 700 years ago, Italian poet and philosopher Dante Alighieri wrote The Divine Comedy (which is not terribly funny – but lets us know the key character isn’t going to be dead by the end of the story). The unintended consequence of his writing was that it greatly informed the Church’s imagination regarding hell itself, which was a terrible, terrible misstep as his work was poetry not to be taken as some sort of literal guide for future travelers.  His goal was, in part, to say something about the human condition.  It resonated with people.  So much so that this work is among the classics to be appreciated for all time.

     Last week we began with Dante in the Dark Wood of Error, the beginning of the tale but the middle of his story.  Dante is lost and afraid.  The easy way out – climbing over Mt. Delectable – isn’t an option.  His favorite philosopher-poet from antiquity, Virgil, showed up as a guide at just the right time – as they often do – to lead him out of the Dark Wood of Error.  The bummer?  The only way out was to go through hell – as is generally the case.  Above the gate to the Inferno: Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.  In other words, what lies ahead on the only way out will not be easy.  Cowardice must be replaced by courage.

     Virgil leads Dante into the Inferno, an other-worldly place of torture and despair.  The reason Virgil is taking Dante into the Inferno, through hell, is not to leave him there, but so that he can observe – every step and every level – and learn from it.  What led to the souls being sentenced to their respective levels of torture?  What types of sin lead to increasing suffering at every deepening level?  Frequently, Virgil encourages Dante to ask questions of the damned, and sometimes, at Dante’s request, Virgil does the asking or prompting because Dante was too terrified to speak. Dante’s journey is a gift, an opportunity to see things differently so that he may live differently on the other side.  This puts the entire work of the Divine Comedy into a category with which we are very familiar, especially around the holidays.  A Christmas Carol, It’s a Wonderful Life, and The Family Man all represent the same general idea. The Church, unfortunately, got caught up too much in the imagery and missed the point.  Instead of understanding it as a form of wisdom literature, the Church used it as an almost literal field guide to life after death for the damned and used it quite effectively to scare the hell out of people so that they would clean up their act.  The Divine Comedy, however, rather than scaring the hell out of us about the afterlife, should wake us up to the challenges we face as human beings.  Coming into greater consciousness, we are then able to wonder about our own lives, our own decisions, our own passions, using what we see in Dante’s story as a reference of sorts. That’s where Dante’s work takes on relevance and continues to speak even today.

     The Inferno consists of nine levels, descending from the least offensive offenses that warranted an eternal sentence to the worst. Worsening grievances are accompanied by increasing severity of torture.  As Martha Beck notes in her book, The Way of Integrity, the dominant theme running throughout all of hell and every offense that landed its victims there revolves around truth and lies.  The lesser offenses, which comprise the first six layers of hell in Dante’s imagination, are what he calls errors of incontinence.  You read that right!  Babies who haven’t been potty-trained, adults who have lost the physical control they once had, and all others who have wet themselves while laughing too hard or have arrogantly sharted in private or at a party are all doomed to hell!  Sorry.  Okay, maybe Dante wasn’t talking about literal incontinence...  Martha Beck suggests we think of the first six layers more along the line of innocent mistakes that result in our suffering.  In Beck’s view, suffering naturally happens when we experience misalignment from integrity.  She would agree that this could also be expressed as not living from our True Selves but from our smaller selves that, to varying degrees have been more influenced by the cultural forces around us than what we would call the Spirit of God residing within us.  We live our True Selves more when we can distinguish the difference and live accordingly.  Beck also distinguishes between pain and suffering: “Pain comes from events, while suffering comes from the way we handle events – what we do about them and, especially, what we think about them”(The Way of Integrity, 77).  The Stoic philosopher, Epectitus, wrote similarly, saying, “What upsets people is not what happens to them, but their thought about what happens” (77).

     Appreciating Beck’s insight here, it makes sense that all of hell is ordered by truth and lies. What lies have we chosen to believe to be true, even if intellectually we know otherwise?  For the first six levels of hell, most of the suffering comes from giving into lies – some culturally propagated ones, some driven by lust and envy – that people simply were not challenging.  They just moved forward, not examining their interior world and finding themselves in pain and subsequent suffering.  The lowest three rings of hell are reserved for those guilty of the “errors of righteousness”, where we shift from innocence to consciously choosing to embrace a lie that works for us, doubling down in willful defiance of the truth.  Murderers are consigned to ring seven because they have willfully chosen to lie to themselves about the inhumanity of their victim which allows them to justify their actions.  A severe disconnect from the truth of our equality and connectedness.  The last two levels are for liars of another level – those that lie deeply to themselves, to others, and to God.  Why do these liars face a worse fate than murderers?  Because, as Maya Angelou noted, “lying is the cornerstone of all vices” (120).  Lying to and about ourselves, lying to others – especially the innocents – and ultimately lying to God are the chief offenses.  Dante – and Beck and Angelou and Epectitus and C.S. Lewis and many others – recognize that this is where the worst evil is rooted.

     One of the greatest gifts of Beck’s book is a method of checking ourselves using two phrases.  First, she instructs readers to ask the simple question of what we are telling ourselves: are you sure?  This simple pause can keep us from a great number of errors as it inherently reminds us of the need for humility before we launch into a verbal attack against someone (or ourselves).  The second phrase she borrows from Byron Katie, who takes it to a deeper level: Can you absolutely know that thought is true?  Katie’s phrase is strengthened by the word “absolutely” to quicken our attention.  Both statements rely not just on the power of pausing in the moment to gain clarity, catch our breath, and act with intention.  Both assume that the truth can be recognized on a deep level within us beyond factual analysis.  They assume we have a built-in capacity, an inner voice that speaks truth.  While it is the work of our lives to continually whittle away all the influences that are not true, I wholeheartedly agree with their core assumption.  The Jewish story of creation has human beings being breathed into being.  The divine nature is inextricably woven into us. The only separation between us and the divine is what’s happening between our ears.  When we can slow down, the answers to the questions are you sure and can you absolutely know that thought is true whispers in our ears.  Object if you want.  I only ask you to consider this, and even try it.  I have discovered that there is great power in this exercise that has incredible affect.  Note: lies we must always hold in tension is our propensity to think of ourselves more highly than we ought – another lie we embrace for our own comfort.  I understand the objections to the suggestion – yet I encourage you to embrace what may be very true about the exercise and try it instead of throwing it out because you see its limitations.

     With all this in mind, let’s take a look at an infamous story from the earlier testament about a chapter in the life of Israel’s beloved Jewish King, David, when he was deep in the Dark Wood of Error on one particularly infamous occasion.  He was no longer young, no longer fit for battle, no longer able to identify himself in the ways he used to, and it caught up with him.  The “Man after God’s Own Heart” made mistake after messy mistake that cost literal and metaphorical life.  He was lost.  A guide showed up for him – Nathan – who, in his own abbreviated way took David through hell.  Because the only way out is through.  Take time and think deeply about every part of this story, the lies that were embraced the whole way through.  David pretty much commits every sin that could take him to the ninth circle of hell.  Can you identify them?

     What are you struggling with currently in your life?  Where are you suffering?  What are you saying to yourself about your reality right now.  Take some time and space.  Are you sure about what you are hearing, seeing, interpreting, and believing?  Can you absolutely know that thought is true?  What is the Spirit of God whispering in your ear as you listen?  Put pen to paper – journal this stuff out – it will help.  As you work through this process, you will see more and more how you have settled for your small self and hear more clearly the voice of your True Self speak.

  For exercises related to The Way of Integrity, and a discussion guide for each section, click here.    

Becoming Our True Selves: The Dark Wood of Error

Have you ever had a moment in your life when you were not at your best?  Sometimes the moment lasts a day, sometimes a week, sometimes a season when, in retrospect (and sometimes in the moment) we feel like an alien took over our bodies or something, because the attitudes and behaviors we’re exhibiting really don’t reflect who we want to be, who we believe ourselves to be.  When we’re in such moments, we feel a bit lost and in the dark.  We’re not exactly sure how we got there or how to get out.  It’s not a pleasant experience.  Have you ever been there?  If you haven’t, I wonder how you are enjoying your cruise on the River Denial?

     I wondered if there are any biblical characters that went through such common experiences.  A few notables came to mind immediately, but the more I thought about it, the more stories came to mind of people who got lost.  Adam and Eve.  Caine and Abel.  Noah.  Abraham. Isaac. Jacob. Joseph. Moses. Aaron. Saul. David. Solomon. Hezekiah. Elijah. Hosea. Jonah. Job. Peter. Paul. Judas. James and John. John the Baptist. Jesus’ family.  Oh, and Jesus.  I am leaving out many more, but hopefully you get the point.  Every one of these characters spent time feeling lost, not living into or out of their True Selves.  For some it took time and consequences to wake them from their stupor.  For some, they woke up so late that they roused only to die.  We generally don’t wittingly choose to get lost – we simply find ourselves there.

     Martha Beck, Ph.D. is a renowned author and coach for people who realize they are a little or a lot lost.  In her book, The Way of Integrity, she takes her readers on a fantasy journey crafted by Dante in his classic, The Divine Comedy. Beck sees more than a sci-fi tour of hell in this prose.  She sees a journey that every person is invited to take as part of being human.  Not everyone makes it all the way to Paradise, where we find great freedom and peace, because getting there is difficult.  Some get stuck in hell.  Most remain lost in the Dark Wood of Error, which is that space when we realize we are not living as our True Selves, but rather our small selves.

     From Beck’s long experience, she offers some symptom signs that we may be in the Dark Wood of Error, where we have lost sight and touch with our True Selves – who we are made to be, who we can be and long to be, who we can get back to being.  You may be in the Dark Wood of Error if you are feeling purposelessness.  Or emotional misery. Or physical deterioration. Or experiencing consistent relationship failures. Or consistent career failures. Or can’t shake persistent bad habits.  Of course, there can be other reasons beyond being in the Dark Wood of Error for the symptoms.  Yet I imagine there may be something resonating with you here, because this reflects very real human experience.  Dante’s work became a classic for a reason.  He was onto something.  He wasn’t simply describing his central character’s experience, was he?

     Are you lost in the woods?  Try the following exercise from Marth Beck.

Exercise: Finding integrity in the dark wood

Here is a simple exercise that will put your feet squarely on the way of integrity, no matter how lost you may feel. Below you’ll find a list of simple statements. Your job is to say them out loud. Whisper them privately, proclaim them to a friend, shout them at the next telemarketer who interrupts your day. And just for a moment, as you say each sentence, tentatively accept that it might be true.

Now here’s the important part: as you speak each sentence, feel what happens inside you. Your pride may sting, your inner critic may put its back up like a startled cat. But does your body relax a little, despite the apparent negativity of a given statement? Does your breath deepen? Do you feel a battle easing in your gut, your heart, your head? Just notice this. Don’t worry about what comes next. Okay, go.

My life isn’t perfect.
I don’t like the way things are going. I don’t feel good.
I’m sad.
I’m angry.
I’m scared.
I’m not at peace.
I can’t find my people.
I’m not sure where to go.
I don’t know what to do.
I need help.

     If we realize we are in the Dark Wood, we might wonder how we got there.  Beck believes that our True Selves get drowned out by other influences from our respective cultures.  In the Western world, she believes that pursuing and portraying culturally defined success leads us astray because the achievement of such success rarely delivers what we really desire for our lives.  This drive to get out of the woods as fast and easy as possible is represented in Dante’s Mt. Delectable.  Yet when we try climbing the mountain, we quickly realize it will be in vain and worse, potentially deadly.

     Especially in places where consumerism drives culture, advertising can be an incredibly powerful influence in our lives, tempting us away from things that really matter to us.  Take a moment to engage Beck’s exercise to help us get her point.

Exercise: Culture or nature?

First, recall the last time you saw some sort of advertising that really appealed to you. It might have been a television commercial, an ad on social media, or a display in a storefront. As it grabbed your attention, you might have felt strong desire for whatever was being advertised. Suddenly, you wanted—really wanted—the latest model of that smartphone, or that slick new car, or a trendier jacket than any you now own. Write down the thing you wanted.

Something advertising made me want:

For a moment, think about having this thing. Notice how your body feels as you hold the thought. Maybe you almost thirst to own this item. Maybe you feel a little racy with hope, or bitter with the conviction that you’ll never have such an awesome object. As best you can, write down a description of the sensation you get when you let yourself want this item. What do you feel, physically and emotionally, when you think about getting it?

When I imagine getting the thing advertising made me want, I experienced the following sensations:

Physical sensations:

Emotional sensations:

Now, shake it out. Literally. (Shaking your head, hands, or whole body, the way an animal might as it climbs out of water, can help clear your mind and emotions.) Let go of the advertising image. Notice if this is hard for you, if you’re almost compelled to go place an order for the New Thing, or at least stare at images of it. Whenever you can let go of this wanting enough to feel centered in the present moment, answer the following question:

When you’re alone in the quiet—say, lying awake at night—what do you yearn for? Not just want, yearn for. Write down the first thing that comes to mind.

Something I yearn for when I’m quiet:

Allow the sensation of yearning for this thing to grow. Vividly imagine having it. How does this image affect your body and your emotions? List them below.

When I imagine getting the thing I yearn for when I’m quiet, I experience the following sensations:

Physical sensations:

Emotional sensations:

Can you pick up any differences? The exact experience will be particular to you, but people typically feel completely disparate sensations when they’re triggered by advertising, as opposed to letting their desires emerge spontaneously from within.

     A final influence she identifies is what she calls “cultural hustle”, doing things we really don’t want to do, things that are not aligned with or True Selves.  Give a look at Beck exercise and see what sticks.

Exercise: Detecting your hustle

If you found out that some of the things you do every day come from culture, not your true nature, you’re hustling up your own version of Mount Delectable. Are you ready to get radically honest about that? Then ask yourself the following questions, and pause after each until you can feel the real answer. (Again, you don’t have to do anything except allow for internal recognition of the real situation. Just notice the difference between things you genuinely love to do and things you do for other reasons.)

·       Do you ever hang out with people you don’t truly enjoy? Who are they?

·       Do you consistently make yourself do anything (or many things) you don’t really want to do? Make a list.

·       Are there things you do solely out of fear that not doing them will upset someone, or lower your value in someone else’s eyes? What are they?

·       Are there any times in your daily life where you’re consistently pretending to be happier or more interested than you really are? And what areas (relationships, job activities, places) do you tend to do this?

·       Do you ever say things you know aren’t true, or things you don’t really, truly mean? What are they?

     As Dante recognized that climbing the mountain was not going to work, he came across a guide from his imagination – his favorite poet, Virgil.  Beck notes that guides seem to show up when we are in the Dark Wood.  These Soul Teachers, as she calls them, are there to help us find our way.  She notes that there are some common themes that seem to show up for many people.  Soul teachers: Capture our attention.  Come with a dash of magic. Offer genuine love. Don’t share our culture’s values. Don’t care about our hustle. Know when to quit.

     Inner guidance is available to us as well, flowing from our True Selves.  This inner voice is capable of helping us live with integrity, making choices that foster the peace we desire.  Try this exercise on for size:

Exercise: Meeting your inner teacher

Maybe you’ve never had an experience of pure, sweet integrity. Do you want to have it? Or maybe you’re remembering an experience of feeling briefly but totally aligned with your own truth. Do you want that feeling back? If so, one powerful step you can take right now is to acknowledge not only that you’re feeling a bit lost, but that you would really like to have a soul teacher. Our society doesn’t encourage you to admit this, but if it’s true for you, your heart won’t stop yearning for the mentor to arrive. Allow this feeling and keep your eyes open—your soul guide may show up any minute, from virtually anywhere. And if you’d like something to do while you’re waiting for that to happen, here’s a way you can access your inner teacher right now.

For this exercise you’ll need five to ten minutes in a quiet place where you won’t be interrupted. You’ll also need something to write with. You can use your own paper for this exercise, or fill in the spaces provided here.

1.     In the previous chapter you wrote down a few things you consistently make yourself do, even though you don’t really want to do them. Now pick one of these things (or think of a brand new one) and write it here.

2.     With this activity in mind, say to yourself, “I am meant to do [this thing].” For example, if your activity is “take out the garbage,” mentally repeat, over and over, “I am meant to take out the garbage.”

3.     As you repeat “I am meant to [take out the garbage],” notice any physical sensations. Scan your body, noting the feelings in your muscles, joints, stomach, gut, skin surface, and so on. Write down anything you notice:

4.     Now turn your attention to your emotions. As you repeat “I am meant to [take out the garbage],” what emotional reactions arise? Anxiety? Bliss? Apathy? Write them down:

5.     Answer this question yes or no: As you mentally repeat “I am meant to [take out the garbage],” do you feel free? Now let go of the thought “I am meant to [take out the garbage].” Instead, mentally repeat this sentence: “I am meant to live in peace.” You don’t have to believe this, just repeat it in your mind over and over.

6.     As you repeat “I am meant to live in peace,” again notice your physical sensations. Scan your whole body with your attention and write down what you’re feeling physically:

7.     Still repeating “I am meant to live in peace,” notice any emotions arising. Write them down:

8.     Finally, answer this question yes or no: As you mentally repeat “I am meant to live in peace,” do you feel free?

     Let’s take stock for a moment.  We recognize that there are times in our lives when we find ourselves in the Dark Wood of Error. We are lost there because we have been influenced by external cultural factors that are not necessarily aligned with our True Selves.  These influences may encourage an easy out via Mt. Delectable, but such a pursuit is perilous.  When the time is right – when we are ready – we discover that guides are available to help us move forward.  We also recognize that deep within us our True Selves speak, helping us discern those decisions that lead us to deep peace.  This is all well and good. 

     What might not seem well and good is the news Virgil shares with Dante – the same news all worthy guides share with us.  The only way out of the Dark Wood of Error is through the Inferno which has inscribed above its gate, Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.  The hope that needs to be abandoned is that we can keep on living exactly as we have been and somehow also live our True Selves. This is called denial, which is a separation from reality.  Our living from our small selves got us into the Dark Wood of Error.  The Inferno holds secrets about ourselves, the things that have influenced us.  The Inferno is the place where we can look in the mirror and see what has been there all along.  Some of that which we will see is much too traumatic to look at alone – we need trained professionals.  But much of what needs to be seen simply requires honesty, which requires great courage.  When we choose to step through the hell gate and into the Inferno, into the total honesty zone, we realize that we do not control what happens next.  Beck offers a newsflash: we really don’t control anything, anywhere, anyway!  Time to let go of our denial and pursue the truth that just may set us free.

     Guts are required to move forward.  Our cowardice will sometimes tempt us back into the Dark Wood and set up camp.  Beck offers an exercise to help us defeat cowardice and replace it with courage.  Quite simply, she encourages us to realize that in each moment we have what we need to survive.  We fret over what might happen, but in reality, we only have right now. We are not living in the past.  We cannot live in the future.  We only live right now.  When we focus on our present, our Now, we find peace and strength. Meditation revolving around breathing helps us find peace in the moment, which gives us strength and courage because, guess what? – the future is filled with moments where we can walk in peace.

    Next week, we’ll enter hell. What could go wrong?

2022 Christmas Day Incarnation: God is NOWHERE

John’s Prologue (John 1:1-5 NLT)

In the beginning the Word already existed.

The Word was with God,

and the Word was God.

He existed in the beginning with God.

God created everything through him,

and nothing was created except through him.

The Word gave life to everything that was created,

and his life brought light to everyone.

The light shines in the darkness,

and the darkness can never extinguish it.

     Christ isn’t Jesus’ last name.  Christ means anointing.  Jesus was clearly anointed by God given his teaching, his lifestyle, and his ministry (especially of miracles). 

     Christ is the presence of God that permeates everything.  We witnessed it in Jesus – an ordinary man by his own account and preference – who woke up to the presence of God that is everywhere, always, and inextricably intertwined in all of creation, including ourselves.  We are not separated from God as the tracts tell us – not literally – because that is impossible.  Our separation is in our blindness, in our incapacity to recognize what’s been here the whole time.  Jesus was unique in this – he took a major step forward from the great prophets Elijah and Elisha, and from Moses.  For Jesus, God was never “up there” but in here and everywhere.  That Good News changed his perspective which changed his life and eventually changed ours!  Richard Rohr notes,

“We daringly believe that God’s presence was poured into a single human being, so that humanity and divinity can be seen to be operating as one in him—and therefore in us! But instead of saying that God came into the world through Jesus, maybe it would be better to say that Jesus came out of an already Christ-soaked world. The second Incarnation flowed out of the first, out of God’s loving union with physical creation” (The Universal Christ, 16, 14-15).

     If Rohr is right – and I believe he is, perhaps we need to train our eyes differently.  Amy E. Herman, in her A Lesson on Looking TED Talk, refers to her work on “seeing” that has helped people from a wide range of industries pay attention to things they might otherwise ignore. Could it be that we need to learn from her when it comes to our faith?  Is it possible that if we had eyes to see, we could discover God in the midst of the artwork of our lives as often as we are willing and able to look and see?

     Author Madeleine L’Engle (1918–2007) saw incarnation this way:

     A sky full of God’s children! Each galaxy, each star, each living creature, every particle and sub-atomic particle of creation, we are all children of the Maker. From a sub-atomic particle with a life span of a few seconds, to a galaxy with a life span of billions of years, to us human creatures somewhere in the middle in size and age, we are . . . children of God, made in God’s image.

     Christ, the Second Person of the Trinity, Christ, the Maker of the universe or perhaps many universes, willingly and lovingly leaving all that power and coming to this poor, sin-filled planet to live with us for a few years to show us what we ought to be and could be. Christ came to us as Jesus of Nazareth, wholly human and wholly divine, to show us what it means to be made in God’s image. Jesus, as Paul reminds us, was the firstborn of many brethren [Romans 8:29].

     I stand on the deck of my cottage, looking at a sky full of God’s children, knowing that I am one of many brethren, and sistren, too, and that Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.

     Bathed in this love, I go into the cottage and to bed.

     Writer and organizer Kelley Nikondeha describes how the context of Jesus’ birth demonstrates God’s Incarnation amongst those who suffer and are oppressed: 

     The advent narratives demand we take the political and economic world of Roman Palestine seriously. The Gospel writers named the empires of Caesar and Herod not for dramatic effect; they didn’t mention a census or massacre for literary flourish. The Gospel writers used contextual markers to describe in concrete ways the turmoil of the times that hosted the first advent.

     It is this very context that makes the advent narratives contemporary—whether in Israel-Palestine or lands beyond. Our troubled times, shaped by all manner of injustice, cause continued suffering, making the loud cries of lament and cries for peace timely, as they are answered by advent. . . .

     The Incarnation positions Jesus among the most vulnerable people, the bereft and threatened of society. The first advent shows God wrestling with the struggles common to many the world over. And from this disadvantaged stance, Jesus lives out God’s peace agenda as a counter-testimony to Caesar’s peace.

     This is the story of advent: we join Jesus as incarnations of God’s peace on this earth for however long it takes. God walks in deep solidarity with humanity, sharing in our sufferings and moments of hope. Amid our hardship, God is with us. Emmanuel remains the name on our lips in troubled times (Kelley Nikondeha, The First Advent in Palestine: Reversals, Resistance, and the Ongoing Complexity of Hope).

     And how about this?  Father Greg Boyle is the Founder of Homeboy Industries, which offers jobs, services, and dignity to former gang members. He has witnessed the healing that comes from having reverence for reality—which is where we bump into God: 

     We remember the sacred by our reverence.... This is the esteem we extend to the reality revealed to us. Jesus didn’t abandon his reality, he lived it. He ran away from nothing and sought some wise path through everything. He engaged in it all with acceptance. He had an eye out always for cherishing his reality. A homie, Leo, wrote me: “I’m going to trust God’s constancy of love to hover over my crazy ass. I’m fervent in my efforts to cultivate holy desires.” This is how we find this other kind of stride and joyful engagement in our cherished reality. The holy rests in every single thing. Yes, it hovers, over our crazy asses....

     I always liked that Saint Kateri Tekakwitha’s name “Tekakwitha” means “she who bumps into things.” What if holiness is a contact sport and we are meant to bump into things? This is what it means to embrace a contemplative, mystical way of seeing wholeness. It gives a window into complexity and keeps us from judging and scapegoating and demonizing. If we allow ourselves to “bump into things,” then we quit measuring. We cease to Bubble-Wrap ourselves against reality. We stop trying to “homeschool” our way through the world so that the world won’t touch us. Hard to embrace the world . . . if we are so protective and defensively shielded from it. A homie told me once, “It’s taken me all these years to see the real world. And once ya see it—there’s only God there.”

     Boyle closes the gap between the secular and the sacred: 

     We don’t want to distance the secular but always bring it closer. It’s only then that ordinary things and moments become epiphanies of God’s presence. Some man said to me once, “I want to become more spiritual.” Yet God is inviting us to inhabit the fullness of our humanity. God holds out wholeness to us. Let’s not settle for just spiritual. We are sacramental to our core when we think that everything is holy. The holy not just found in the supernatural but in the Incarnational here and now. The truth is that sacraments are happening all the time if we have the eyes to see... the Infinite is present in it all... (Gregory Boyle, The Whole Language: The Power of Extravagant Tenderness).

     And finally, Rachel Held Evans sums it here:

To understand Mary’s humanity and her central role in Jesus’s story is to remind ourselves of the true miracle of the Incarnation—and that is the core Christian conviction that God is with us, plain old ordinary us. God is with us in our fears and in our pain, in our morning sickness and in our ear infections, in our refugee crises and in our endurance of Empire, in smelly barns and unimpressive backwater towns, in the labor pains of a new mother and in the cries of a tiny infant. In all these things, God is with us—and God is for us.

     May we have eyes to see, really see, and appreciate and embrace the incarnation of God in all of creation, and at this time, in Jesus, that we might embrace the reality of incarnation in ourselves.  May that truth permeate us, change our vision of ourselves and all others.  May we find great strength and courage and self-esteem to move forward in the knowledge that we are forever loved, forever held, forever included in the grace of God.

A Closing and Opening Prayer: God, Lord of all creation, lover of life and of everything, please help us to love in our very small way what You love infinitely and everywhere. We thank You that we can offer just this one prayer and that will be more than enough, because in reality every thing and every one is connected, and nothing stands alone. To pray for one part is really to pray for the whole, and so we do. Help us each day to stand for love, for healing, for the good, for the diverse unity of the Body of Christ and all creation, because we know this is what You desire: as Jesus prayed, that all may be one. We offer our prayer together with all the holy names of God, we offer our prayer together with Christ, our Lord. Amen.