Jesus: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free." (Luke 4:18)
Eugene Debs: "While there is a lower class, I am in it; while there is a criminal element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free." (Statement to the Court Upon Being Convicted of Violating the Sedition Act, September 18, 1918)
Luke: "The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common. With great power the apostles bore witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great favor was accorded them all. There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need." (Acts 4:32-35)
Marx: "In a higher phase of communist society, after the enslaving subordination of the individual to the division of labor, and therewith also the antithesis between mental and physical labor, has vanished; after labor has become not only a means of life but life's prime want; after the productive forces have also increased with the all-around development of the individual, and all the springs of co-operative wealth flow more abundantly – only then can the narrow horizon of bourgeois right be crossed in its entirety and society inscribe on its banners: From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs!" (Critique of the Gotha Programme)
Wednesday, August 24, 2022
8/24/22
I feel like there's been a lot going on in my spiritual life lately, like a fertile rain after a long drought. I've had a few email exchanges with Pastor Robyn and Dir. Vinci the last couple of days regarding membership at Spirit of Grace and an upcoming retreat at Mt. Angel. I'm actually meeting up with Pastor Robyn tomorrow afternoon to discuss possibly becoming a member. And I've secured my spot in a carpool out to Mt. Angel for an upcoming day-long retreat, "Engaged Spirituality: East and West, Meditating with Thich Nhat Hanh and Thomas Merton" presented by Peggy Lindquist and Terry Moe. Definitely something up my alley, and it'll be my first time visiting the Benedictine sisters.
I also heard from Pastor Amanda, who wrote, "I still owe you writing. And haven't forgotten it!" I know she's been busy and also dealing with health issues, so I haven't pestered her about our delayed correspondence. But I'm looking forward to hearing her thoughts and reconnecting at some point.
On top of that, I feel like a lot of the spiritual themes that have been popping up lately are all connecting to one another, from meeting a group of people interested in contemplativism and the upcoming retreat on a topic close to my heart to the topics at church mirroring things in Richard Rohr's daily medications. For example, last Sunday's homily touched on actively going against the flow of oppressive social institutions and mentalities, mentioning Jesus's mission to bring glad tidings to the poor, proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, and to let the oppressed go free; and today's reflections from CAC teacher Brian McLaren was very much tapping into the same spirit:
It feels kind of exciting having so much going on and so many things to look forward to.
I also heard from Pastor Amanda, who wrote, "I still owe you writing. And haven't forgotten it!" I know she's been busy and also dealing with health issues, so I haven't pestered her about our delayed correspondence. But I'm looking forward to hearing her thoughts and reconnecting at some point.
On top of that, I feel like a lot of the spiritual themes that have been popping up lately are all connecting to one another, from meeting a group of people interested in contemplativism and the upcoming retreat on a topic close to my heart to the topics at church mirroring things in Richard Rohr's daily medications. For example, last Sunday's homily touched on actively going against the flow of oppressive social institutions and mentalities, mentioning Jesus's mission to bring glad tidings to the poor, proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, and to let the oppressed go free; and today's reflections from CAC teacher Brian McLaren was very much tapping into the same spirit:
The Spirit leads us downward. To the bottom, to the place of humility, to the position and posture of service . . . that's where the Spirit, like water, flows. . . .
If you listen to the Spirit, here is what will happen to you. You’ll be at a party and you'll notice on one side of the room all the beautiful people laughing and having fun together. In a far corner, you'll notice a person who is alone, feeling awkward, not knowing anyone. The Spirit will draw you to the person in need. You may become the bridge that connects the outsider to the insiders—and in that connection, both will be better off. . . .
Here's what will happen to you if you listen to the Spirit. You will realize that someone is angry at you or resentful toward you . . . or worked behind your back to do you harm. Everything in you will want you to write them off or get them back. But the Spirit will draw you toward them in humility. . . .
Here's what will happen if you listen to the Spirit. You will see a person or a group being vilified or scapegoated. Everyone is blaming them, shaming them, gossiping about them, feeling superior to them, venting their anxieties on them. . . . But the Spirit will draw you to differ courageously and graciously. . . . You will risk your reputation in defending the person or people being scapegoated. And in that risk, both you and they will know that God's Spirit is alive and at work in your midst.
If you listen to the Spirit, here's what will happen to you. It will be late. You will be tired. There will be dishes to do or clothes to pick up or trash to empty. Someone else should have done this, you will think with anger. You will rehearse in your mind the speech you will give them. And then you will think, But I guess they're just as tired and overworked as I am. So maybe I can help. You won’t do this as a manipulative ploy but as a simple act of service. . . .
There is a prison near you. A hospital. A park or a bridge or an alley where homeless people sleep. . . . There's a country in great need or a social problem that few people notice. If you listen to the Spirit, you will be drawn toward an opportunity to serve. At first, the thought will frighten or repel you. But when you let the Spirit guide you, it will be a source of great joy—one of the richest blessings of your life.
It feels kind of exciting having so much going on and so many things to look forward to.
Sunday, August 21, 2022
8/21/22
I made the effort to visit Spirit of Grace again this weekend since I enjoyed it so much last time, and my experience this time around was similarly pleasant. Today, Pastor Robyn led the service. The homily was based on Luke 13:22-30, the parable of the narrow door (or narrow gate in some translations):
The basic idea I took away from it is that the door you must walk through to be recognized by God, the door to truly joining the righteous community of the faithful and being a good person generally, isn't necessarily easy to walk through. The wider and more easily accessible door is ultimately one that'll tend to leave you out alone in the cold. The more modern-day analogy used by Pastor Robyn was that of a moving walkway, much like the ones you see at airports. And she compared the forward motion of these walkways to the wider door, meaning it's the easier way, the path of least resistance, the way of the world. And why does this door or walkway lead to being cast out? Because this is the way often characterized by evildoing, oppression, and harm, and dominated by institutions of power and control that lead to security and pleasure (at least for those in positions of power and control), perhaps because it's often easier to let ourselves be motivated by greed, anger, and delusion than their counterparts, or else remain complacent out of fear or ignorance. The narrow door, in contrast, is to actively walk in the opposite direction, choosing to act out of nongreed, nonanger, and nondelusion, and to be brave in the face of fear.
One example Pastor Robyn gave is when Jesus drives out the merchants and money changers from the temple and overturns their tables, saying that these people were exploiting the poor who were obligated to make ritual sacrifices at the temple and profiting off of them, that the economics of the temple was harmful to them. But this was a commonly accepted situation, and most went along with it whether they saw it as just or otherwise. And certainly the merchants, money changers, and religious leaders were benefiting from it. So when Jesus overturned their tables and drove them out of the temple, he was striking at the economic heart of his society and religion out of love for the people and walking in the opposite direction of the proverbial moving walkway.
Another example was how most of the professed Christians in Nazi Germany, millions of both Catholics and Protestants, went along with, or even supported, the Third Reich. And some even went so far as to develop their own brand on Christian nationalism that consciously incorporated the racist, white supremacist ideology of the Third Reich into their own theology. It was something supported by both the political and religious leaders of Germany. Some were seduced into believing in the correctness of this ideology. Some saw how they would benefit. And some just followed the walkway because that was the easiest thing to do as they themselves were out of harm's way. But some spoke out. Some worked to undermine the Third Reich. And some tried to save the victims of their policies and intolerance, especially the Jewish targets of their violence. Essentially, the two kinds of doors represent two kinds of Christianity or approaches to religion in general. Pastor Robyn illustrated this with a quote from Fredrick Douglas:
Pastor Robyn then used as a third example the long history of slavery and racism in the US, which many accepted because they were seduced into believing in the ideology of white supremacy, benefited from it directly, or simply went along with it because it was just the reality of how things were. And many Christians went so far as to take quotes from the Bible to justify it on a religious basis as well as economic and racist ones. But there were also those who spoke out against slavery, and some even willing to help slaves escape to free territories. And while Pastor Robyn focused on racism and the perpetuation of white supremacy within the makeup up of our thought and material structure of our institutions, I think it's possible to extend this idea to the broadest possible struggles against any form of harmful, oppressive, and exploitative ideologies, economic systems, and social institutions. But to go against the flow of the walkway is often difficult and dangerous. For one, you have to put in a lot more energy to walk in the other direction and not be passively carried towards an arguably undesirable destination, which would make you in some sense complicit. And doing so means that you'll likely not share in the comfort or security that simply going with the flow provides. You may stumble and fall and not be accepted by those around you, like Jesus' rejection in his own hometown of Nazareth. And worse, it can be dangerous because it can put you into conflict with worldly powers, and there are many guarding the walkway and willing to protect it and the status quo. Walking in the opposite direction or trying to stop the walkway entirely is to challenge the power and privilege of those on the walkway, and especially those who created and own it, illustrated by Jesus' execution in Jerusalem by the political and religious elites of his time.
Pastor Robyn referenced something Jesus says earlier in Luke, when he's reading a scroll from the prophet Isaiah and essentially summarizing his own spiritual mission, near the end of her homily:
And she more or less explained that when Jesus says things like "some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last," it can be understood to mean some who are first — i.e., political and religious leaders in positions of power who use that power to exploit, harm, and oppress others — will find themselves last and left outside. Conversely, some who are last — i.e., those who suffer under that exploitation, harm, and oppression or fight against it and are in turn harmed — will find themselves first and reclining at table in the kin-dom of God to the anguish of those who are cast out. There are so many morals and warnings here that I could spend hours reflecting on them, but a big one is that: just because you find yourself in a position of power and privilege doesn't mean that you're worthy of it and in a position to judge others; and just because you find yourself in the position of being poor, marginalized, or oppressed doesn't mean that you deserve it or that you're unworthy of justice or love. And in the words of Pastor Robyn, our duty as followers of Christ is to walk as fast as we can in the opposite direction, holding the hands of others, and being the change Christ came to bring to the world. Which is why being a follower of Christ to me means often being rebellious and radical and standing on the side of the poor, the incarcerated, and the oppressed.
After the service, the person sitting behind me, Gini, introduced herself and asked me what brought me to Spirit of Grace and if it has what I'm looking for. I said that I wasn't sure yet as it was only my second time visiting and that some of the things I'm looking for aren't typical. She asked what those were, and I mentioned that the church seems great but I also have a very contemplative aspect to my spirituality that isn't as prevalent in most places I visit, whereupon she proceeded to explain she's a teacher of centering prayer and has been deeply involved with it since learning it from the modern-day pioneers like Bede Griffiths and Thomas Keating, and there are others here who have a similar interest in contemplation. It was kind of a crazy coincidence and did seem a little like fate or the holy spirit at work. I also spent a bit of time talking to Rachel a little more and met a few other members/visitors before heading home. It definitely feels like I'm being called to spend more time here.
He passed through towns and villages, teaching as he went and making his way to Jerusalem. Someone asked him, "Lord, will only a few people be saved?" He answered them, "Strive to enter through the narrow door, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough. After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door, then will you stand outside knocking and saying, 'Lord, open the door for us.' He will say to you in reply, 'I do not know where you are from.' And you will say, 'We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.' Then he will say to you, 'I do not know where [you] are from. Depart from me, all you evildoers!' And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God and you yourselves cast out. And people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God. For behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last."
The basic idea I took away from it is that the door you must walk through to be recognized by God, the door to truly joining the righteous community of the faithful and being a good person generally, isn't necessarily easy to walk through. The wider and more easily accessible door is ultimately one that'll tend to leave you out alone in the cold. The more modern-day analogy used by Pastor Robyn was that of a moving walkway, much like the ones you see at airports. And she compared the forward motion of these walkways to the wider door, meaning it's the easier way, the path of least resistance, the way of the world. And why does this door or walkway lead to being cast out? Because this is the way often characterized by evildoing, oppression, and harm, and dominated by institutions of power and control that lead to security and pleasure (at least for those in positions of power and control), perhaps because it's often easier to let ourselves be motivated by greed, anger, and delusion than their counterparts, or else remain complacent out of fear or ignorance. The narrow door, in contrast, is to actively walk in the opposite direction, choosing to act out of nongreed, nonanger, and nondelusion, and to be brave in the face of fear.
One example Pastor Robyn gave is when Jesus drives out the merchants and money changers from the temple and overturns their tables, saying that these people were exploiting the poor who were obligated to make ritual sacrifices at the temple and profiting off of them, that the economics of the temple was harmful to them. But this was a commonly accepted situation, and most went along with it whether they saw it as just or otherwise. And certainly the merchants, money changers, and religious leaders were benefiting from it. So when Jesus overturned their tables and drove them out of the temple, he was striking at the economic heart of his society and religion out of love for the people and walking in the opposite direction of the proverbial moving walkway.
Another example was how most of the professed Christians in Nazi Germany, millions of both Catholics and Protestants, went along with, or even supported, the Third Reich. And some even went so far as to develop their own brand on Christian nationalism that consciously incorporated the racist, white supremacist ideology of the Third Reich into their own theology. It was something supported by both the political and religious leaders of Germany. Some were seduced into believing in the correctness of this ideology. Some saw how they would benefit. And some just followed the walkway because that was the easiest thing to do as they themselves were out of harm's way. But some spoke out. Some worked to undermine the Third Reich. And some tried to save the victims of their policies and intolerance, especially the Jewish targets of their violence. Essentially, the two kinds of doors represent two kinds of Christianity or approaches to religion in general. Pastor Robyn illustrated this with a quote from Fredrick Douglas:
I love the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ; I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial, and hypocritical Christianity of this land. Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity. I look upon it as the climax of all misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels.
Pastor Robyn then used as a third example the long history of slavery and racism in the US, which many accepted because they were seduced into believing in the ideology of white supremacy, benefited from it directly, or simply went along with it because it was just the reality of how things were. And many Christians went so far as to take quotes from the Bible to justify it on a religious basis as well as economic and racist ones. But there were also those who spoke out against slavery, and some even willing to help slaves escape to free territories. And while Pastor Robyn focused on racism and the perpetuation of white supremacy within the makeup up of our thought and material structure of our institutions, I think it's possible to extend this idea to the broadest possible struggles against any form of harmful, oppressive, and exploitative ideologies, economic systems, and social institutions. But to go against the flow of the walkway is often difficult and dangerous. For one, you have to put in a lot more energy to walk in the other direction and not be passively carried towards an arguably undesirable destination, which would make you in some sense complicit. And doing so means that you'll likely not share in the comfort or security that simply going with the flow provides. You may stumble and fall and not be accepted by those around you, like Jesus' rejection in his own hometown of Nazareth. And worse, it can be dangerous because it can put you into conflict with worldly powers, and there are many guarding the walkway and willing to protect it and the status quo. Walking in the opposite direction or trying to stop the walkway entirely is to challenge the power and privilege of those on the walkway, and especially those who created and own it, illustrated by Jesus' execution in Jerusalem by the political and religious elites of his time.
Pastor Robyn referenced something Jesus says earlier in Luke, when he's reading a scroll from the prophet Isaiah and essentially summarizing his own spiritual mission, near the end of her homily:
"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord."
And she more or less explained that when Jesus says things like "some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last," it can be understood to mean some who are first — i.e., political and religious leaders in positions of power who use that power to exploit, harm, and oppress others — will find themselves last and left outside. Conversely, some who are last — i.e., those who suffer under that exploitation, harm, and oppression or fight against it and are in turn harmed — will find themselves first and reclining at table in the kin-dom of God to the anguish of those who are cast out. There are so many morals and warnings here that I could spend hours reflecting on them, but a big one is that: just because you find yourself in a position of power and privilege doesn't mean that you're worthy of it and in a position to judge others; and just because you find yourself in the position of being poor, marginalized, or oppressed doesn't mean that you deserve it or that you're unworthy of justice or love. And in the words of Pastor Robyn, our duty as followers of Christ is to walk as fast as we can in the opposite direction, holding the hands of others, and being the change Christ came to bring to the world. Which is why being a follower of Christ to me means often being rebellious and radical and standing on the side of the poor, the incarcerated, and the oppressed.
After the service, the person sitting behind me, Gini, introduced herself and asked me what brought me to Spirit of Grace and if it has what I'm looking for. I said that I wasn't sure yet as it was only my second time visiting and that some of the things I'm looking for aren't typical. She asked what those were, and I mentioned that the church seems great but I also have a very contemplative aspect to my spirituality that isn't as prevalent in most places I visit, whereupon she proceeded to explain she's a teacher of centering prayer and has been deeply involved with it since learning it from the modern-day pioneers like Bede Griffiths and Thomas Keating, and there are others here who have a similar interest in contemplation. It was kind of a crazy coincidence and did seem a little like fate or the holy spirit at work. I also spent a bit of time talking to Rachel a little more and met a few other members/visitors before heading home. It definitely feels like I'm being called to spend more time here.
Sunday, August 14, 2022
8/14/22
I finally had a chance to visit Spirit of Grace today. I read about them a while ago while searching for churches in my area and had planned on checking them out at some point. At the time, I was mainly looking for local Catholic and Reconciling in Christ ELCA churches, and Spirit of Grace caught my eye because they're an intentional community of Catholics and Lutherans who worship together, with alternating celebrants. Today happened to be the first time Patrick Hannon, C.S.C joined them for their hybrid service. He's a Catholic priest out of the University of Portland. Next week, Pastor Robyn, who I met at St. Andrew Lutheran years ago, will offer communion. The homily was given by a Vinci, Director of Catholic Ministries at Spirit of Grace, and it was based on the day's readings (Jer 38:4-6, 8-10 and Luke 12:49-53) and inspiration from the series Little Fires Everywhere. It was mainly about the little fires that our faith ignites within us and encourages us to be brave and speak and act even when doing so is difficult or puts us in harm's way. Doing what's right isn't always easy and sometimes puts us in difficult situations or in conflict with others.
It was really interesting to see an entire community intentionally doing what I've been doing on my own the last couple of years. While I'm sure the local Catholic Bishop would frown upon it, I'm happy I'm not the only one straddling these two traditions. I see my Catholic and Lutheran double-belonging similarly to how I do my Buddhist and Christian double-belonging. For me, it's very much in line with the universality of Christ and the open arms of the church I find within the New Testament (e.g., Gal 3:28, Mt 22:1-10 and Luke 14:15-24, Romans 15:1-7, etc.), as well as my own perennialist leanings. After the service, one of the parishioners, Marcia, introduced herself and started a conversation with me about what brought me to Spirit of Grace and my spiritual background. She also introduced me to Pastor Robyn, who in turn introduced me to April, who delivered the children's sermon, and Rachel, a seminary student in her final year (although she'll have to take one more in an ELCA affiliated program to be ordained within the ELCA). They were all nice and patiently listened as I awkwardly rambled on about my spiritual interests in monasticism and background in both Buddhism and Christianity and how I saw them complementing one another, balancing the contemplative confrontation with internal suffering with the active confrontation of external suffering in the world. They seemed to understand where I was coming from at least, and were all very welcoming. All in all, I had a pretty positive experience and I definitely think that I'll visit again.
It was really interesting to see an entire community intentionally doing what I've been doing on my own the last couple of years. While I'm sure the local Catholic Bishop would frown upon it, I'm happy I'm not the only one straddling these two traditions. I see my Catholic and Lutheran double-belonging similarly to how I do my Buddhist and Christian double-belonging. For me, it's very much in line with the universality of Christ and the open arms of the church I find within the New Testament (e.g., Gal 3:28, Mt 22:1-10 and Luke 14:15-24, Romans 15:1-7, etc.), as well as my own perennialist leanings. After the service, one of the parishioners, Marcia, introduced herself and started a conversation with me about what brought me to Spirit of Grace and my spiritual background. She also introduced me to Pastor Robyn, who in turn introduced me to April, who delivered the children's sermon, and Rachel, a seminary student in her final year (although she'll have to take one more in an ELCA affiliated program to be ordained within the ELCA). They were all nice and patiently listened as I awkwardly rambled on about my spiritual interests in monasticism and background in both Buddhism and Christianity and how I saw them complementing one another, balancing the contemplative confrontation with internal suffering with the active confrontation of external suffering in the world. They seemed to understand where I was coming from at least, and were all very welcoming. All in all, I had a pretty positive experience and I definitely think that I'll visit again.
Wednesday, August 3, 2022
8/3/22
"Love and ever more love is the only solution to every problem that comes up. If we love each other enough, we will bear with each other's faults and burdens. If we love enough, we are going to light that fire in the hearts of others. And it is love that will burn out the sins and hatreds that sadden us. It is love that will make us want to do great things for each other. No sacrifice and no suffering will then seem too much." — Dorothy Day
If only I knew how to truly love in this way and not let my own pride and selfishness get in the way. I pray to one day love like this, to love as Christ loves.
If only I knew how to truly love in this way and not let my own pride and selfishness get in the way. I pray to one day love like this, to love as Christ loves.
Sunday, July 24, 2022
7/24/22
I feel as if my faith, which itself was hard to come by, is being tested unlike ever before. None of my friends and family are religious, and most are hostile towards religion because of past abuses, intolerance, and current attitudes of discrimination. Mainstream religion has a way of wrapping violence and bigotry and discrimination with a blanket of patriotism and morality that seemingly flies in the face of religion's heart. Comparing the words and actions of Jesus, for example, with that of present day Christians, one has to wonder what the connection even is.
Jesus went out of his way to spend time with the lower classes and those who his parent religion shunned as being sinful and unclean, showing compassion and mercy and an open heart, while constantly taking the religious authorities to task for their hypocrisy. Jesus had nothing but the clothes on his back, and encouraged his disciples to give what they had to the poor and follow his example of ministering to the people of his community regardless of their social status or lifestyle, going so far as to include people his community considered unclean or outright enemies. Jesus listened. Jesus fed. Jesus healed. Jesus sat and ate with those who the religious leaders of the day thought were the most sinful, unclean, and unworthy, going so far as to cross the street in order to avoid them, even if they were in need of help. Jesus and his followers transgressed religious laws out of love and in the service of healing others. Jesus preached a radical form of love and forgiveness while being a harsh critic of people in positions of power who excluded and harmed members of the community, including the occupying forces who inflicted violence onto that community. Yet today's followers seem intent on judging and excluding anyone who falls outside of their rigid orthodoxy.
Today, many seek to exclude women from positions of power and authority, prevent non-cis and non-hetero-normative people from having a family, and force people who are pregnant to give birth even against their will. They cover up church abuses and live in opulence as they scoff at the poor on the streets asking for change, all the while professing faith in the life and teachings of Jesus. And I just don't understand how. What Jesus are they following? What religion are they practicing? Do they not see the harm they are doing, or how this is contrary to everything Jesus said and did?
Looking back, it's interesting and rather kind of amazing that I end up being a follower of Christ. I made my way into the Church through a very long and roundabout way. I started out extremely hostile of everything Christian, and the Catholic Church in particular. It was authoritarian, judgmental, hypocritical. Popes lived in palaces and wore gold and silk while people went hungry. It placed women in subservient positions. It treated gay people and those of different faiths with contempt and often violence. It stifled progress and condemned scientific advances and philosophical innovations. It was nothing but an outdated way of thinking that brainwashed people into accepting it as the sole authority regardless of the harm it did in the name of God.
But then I saw it from a different perspective. I saw its long history and beautiful traditions and rituals. I saw its monastic and contemplative traditions and the deep wisdom they contained. I saw people guided by the example of Jesus to go out and suffer with the poor and marginalized and stand with them against their oppressors. I was welcomed into many of their communities even though I was not Christian and held decidedly heterodox views from Catholic orthodoxy. I discovered people who lived close to the way Jesus did, open and welcoming and willing to bring everyone into the community while being critical of those who actively tried to keep them out because they weren't pure enough. I discovered the works of Thomas Merton and visited a Trappist monastery. I was introduced by providence to the Paulists and a community that truly welcomed all. I made acquaintances with people who accepted me for who and where I was, a Buddhist, a socialist, and an agnostic skeptic and cynic who was nevertheless inexplicably drawn towards God.
And as my experience with and understanding of this faith grew, I found others who took that experience and understanding to the next level, people who I saw as truly understanding the heart of religion and of the life and teachings of Jesus, combining both its deeply contemplative and unitive heart and its active expression of love and compassion in the world, people like Oscar Romero, Dorothy Day, Paul Knitter, Marcus Borg, Thomas Keating, Richard Rohr, Paul Tillich, and Martin Luther King, Jr. I began to see all the things that I'd previously missed, all the things that drew me consciously and unconsciously towards spirituality and religion despite my reservations and misgivings, all the things that inspired Marx to call religion "the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of our soulless conditions." And I fell in love with it despite my past antagonisms and the negative effects it's had on the world.
Jesus went out of his way to spend time with the lower classes and those who his parent religion shunned as being sinful and unclean, showing compassion and mercy and an open heart, while constantly taking the religious authorities to task for their hypocrisy. Jesus had nothing but the clothes on his back, and encouraged his disciples to give what they had to the poor and follow his example of ministering to the people of his community regardless of their social status or lifestyle, going so far as to include people his community considered unclean or outright enemies. Jesus listened. Jesus fed. Jesus healed. Jesus sat and ate with those who the religious leaders of the day thought were the most sinful, unclean, and unworthy, going so far as to cross the street in order to avoid them, even if they were in need of help. Jesus and his followers transgressed religious laws out of love and in the service of healing others. Jesus preached a radical form of love and forgiveness while being a harsh critic of people in positions of power who excluded and harmed members of the community, including the occupying forces who inflicted violence onto that community. Yet today's followers seem intent on judging and excluding anyone who falls outside of their rigid orthodoxy.
Today, many seek to exclude women from positions of power and authority, prevent non-cis and non-hetero-normative people from having a family, and force people who are pregnant to give birth even against their will. They cover up church abuses and live in opulence as they scoff at the poor on the streets asking for change, all the while professing faith in the life and teachings of Jesus. And I just don't understand how. What Jesus are they following? What religion are they practicing? Do they not see the harm they are doing, or how this is contrary to everything Jesus said and did?
Looking back, it's interesting and rather kind of amazing that I end up being a follower of Christ. I made my way into the Church through a very long and roundabout way. I started out extremely hostile of everything Christian, and the Catholic Church in particular. It was authoritarian, judgmental, hypocritical. Popes lived in palaces and wore gold and silk while people went hungry. It placed women in subservient positions. It treated gay people and those of different faiths with contempt and often violence. It stifled progress and condemned scientific advances and philosophical innovations. It was nothing but an outdated way of thinking that brainwashed people into accepting it as the sole authority regardless of the harm it did in the name of God.
But then I saw it from a different perspective. I saw its long history and beautiful traditions and rituals. I saw its monastic and contemplative traditions and the deep wisdom they contained. I saw people guided by the example of Jesus to go out and suffer with the poor and marginalized and stand with them against their oppressors. I was welcomed into many of their communities even though I was not Christian and held decidedly heterodox views from Catholic orthodoxy. I discovered people who lived close to the way Jesus did, open and welcoming and willing to bring everyone into the community while being critical of those who actively tried to keep them out because they weren't pure enough. I discovered the works of Thomas Merton and visited a Trappist monastery. I was introduced by providence to the Paulists and a community that truly welcomed all. I made acquaintances with people who accepted me for who and where I was, a Buddhist, a socialist, and an agnostic skeptic and cynic who was nevertheless inexplicably drawn towards God.
And as my experience with and understanding of this faith grew, I found others who took that experience and understanding to the next level, people who I saw as truly understanding the heart of religion and of the life and teachings of Jesus, combining both its deeply contemplative and unitive heart and its active expression of love and compassion in the world, people like Oscar Romero, Dorothy Day, Paul Knitter, Marcus Borg, Thomas Keating, Richard Rohr, Paul Tillich, and Martin Luther King, Jr. I began to see all the things that I'd previously missed, all the things that drew me consciously and unconsciously towards spirituality and religion despite my reservations and misgivings, all the things that inspired Marx to call religion "the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of our soulless conditions." And I fell in love with it despite my past antagonisms and the negative effects it's had on the world.
Wednesday, July 6, 2022
7/6/22
Randomly thinking about the universe and how, at the earliest point in history that we can currently extrapolate, the entire universe was a dense, hot ball of energy roughly the size of a human being or smaller. And that insanely hot, infinitely dense ball containing all the matter and energy that comprises our universe exploded (or expanded very, very rapidly), for whatever reason (quantum fluctuations, conscious will?), creating both space and time and everything else we can see—a universe that's now estimated to be 13.8 billion years old and 46.1 billion light-years in radius. It makes me wonder, where did that dense ball of energy come from? Was there a first cause, or an infinite succession of causes? What did the universe expand into? What lies at the beginning? And does existence and being itself end at its edges? Every possibility blows my mind — naturalistic or otherwise, finite or infinite, single universe or multitudes — but combining what I've been reading about panentheism and what we know about the universe, I've begun to envision the Big Bang as the word of God speaking matter, space-time, and existence into being, and the universe expanding into the infinity that's God, who's both within and without the observable universe. Like the Kabbalistic saying, "God is the Place of the world, but the world is not God's place." Paradoxically immanent yet transcendent. Or as Paul Tillich would say, God isn't a being; God is Being-Itself. And it's worthy of reverence in its own respect regardless of our relationship with it and vice versa.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)