NOTE: This blog and the preceding one were written to post on Facebook, where many of my friends are conservative Christians, so here I focus on Christian versions of exclusivity; obviously, the blessings and curses of exclusion are not limited to Christians.
Although rigid exclusivity of faith has become so unpopular as to be brandied with the name “fundamentalism,” an important impulse lies at the heart of exclusion. As we grow and develop, we often long to find or develop an identity. We have a need for community and belonging. Spirituality calls for an ethos; simply discerning right from wrong calls for an ethic. If we do enjoy a spiritual path, we need sacred space and separation of holy ground. Marriage and special relationships are defined by often exclusive emotions of love and affection. In logic alone, we need definitions, critical thinking, division and classification. However, groups segment and build walls. Accusations of cultural appropriation arise. Fear of discrimination and invasion appear on both sides of polarized fences. Into the sometimes good impulse of exclusivity, Christians have certain categorical statements that sometimes get fired like bullets and that do not seem to be understood well: (1) Be separate from the world; (2) There is only one name by which we can be saved; and (3) no one comes to the father but by Jesus. I will deal with these Christian versions of exclusivity for now and leave to the side the exclusivity of other identities and religions. (1) Be separate from the world: in the extreme this means isolating in a church group but sometimes is assumed to mean avoiding drinking, dancing, movies, certain clothing, and other behaviors. Of course, are told to be in the world and not of the world. So we often see separation as a matter of the heart: we render to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s, we have a business without greed, look at art without lust, or drink a little wine without addiction. To the pure, all things can be pure, even other cultures, spiritual practices, and mythology. (2) There is only one name by which we can be saved: sometimes this phrase is assumed to mean one must be baptized into a certain church or sign a specific statement of faith, perhaps expanded in some people’s minds as any faith that follows Christ’s general teachings. However, the interpretations are so diverse and groups so splintered that ultimately you are only included if you associate yourself with the English name spelled J E S U S. The literal name of Jesus appears in the Hebrew as “Joshua” and means “He Delivers”: this divine identity actually has many names and faces. But even the God of the Bible has shown himself to have many names and faces, stating with the Trinity of Father, Son, and Spirit—so ingrained as to cause no flinch of polytheism except among Jewish and Islamic believers or Jehovah’s Witnesses. In the Old Testament, though, even apart from theophany and appearances of the Angel of the LORD—such as appearing to Abraham as three men, there seem to be multiple names and faces of God: Elohim, El Elyon, El Shaddai, the YHWH of the Tetragrammaton, the LORD my Provider, the LORD my Peace—and Healer, Banner, Righteousness, Shepherd as well as many other names revealing facets of the Eternal. The New Testament has other divine names, including our Father, Abba, Alpha and Omega, and a least seven identifications with “I am,” such as Way, Truth, Door, Good Shepherd, Life, and Light. He is called Logos, the Word, Faithful and True. In Him we live and move and have our being, and Paul finds Him in the poems and art of the secular as well as in the halls of religion. (3) No one comes to the father but by Jesus: Again, this phrase sometimes seems to be cast like a stone or slammed like a door in the face of those who do not sign a certain statement of faith or join a certain church or use a certain bumper sticker. However, the significance is a grace found in many hearts and many faiths: we cannot save ourselves. In alcoholics anonymous, the first step to freedom is admitting one is powerless and finding help from beyond oneself, a Higher Power. The core truth is that only by God’s grace is anyone going to make it: no amount of education, exercise, or even religion is going to get us anywhere without God. We tend to form human methods and traditions of how we think this supernatural Bridge—this Stairway to heaven--must work. The transcendent truth gets filtered into experiences of individuals and cultures: people argue over whether they need to be sprinkled or immersed in water, whether those who never hear the name of Jesus can be saved. Yet by grace all those who respond to light given them will are given more light. Unfortunately, the important concepts of love, of belonging, of holiness, and of sacred space get translated into rigid exclusivity and even hate.
0 Comments
NOTE: This post was written for my Facebook feed, which is composed mostly of Christians, so the emphasis is biblical and meant as a bridge of understanding of the divine feminine for Bible believers.
This Mother’s Day, I want to reflect on the Mother Heart of God as beautifully reflected in the Jewish and Christian scriptures but often forgotten in patriarchal culture and religious traditions. In the beginning, when the earth was without form, in darkness, the Book of Genesis describes the Spirit of God hovering over the watery chaos with similar vocabulary for a hen that warms eggs in a nest. This motherly Spirit was the nurturing potential of God in creation. The Shekinah, the manifest presence of God in the Most Holy Place, I am told is a feminine word form, yet it describes a force so heavy and strong that Solomon’s priests could not stand. This Holy Spirit is described as gentle as the breath of life, breathed by God to make humanity in his own image, an image described as “male and female” as “created he them.” Although this Spirit is sometimes a gentle breeze and a still, small voice, it is sometimes as powerful as a whirlwind or consuming fire. Yet the burning fire appears to Moses with such gentleness as not to even harm a desert shrub. The gentle dove that returned with the olive branch as a sign of God’s grace to Noah has become the emblem of peace for the United Nations, showing how the powerful imagery has spread to human culture. The Spirit descended on Jesus in the form of a dove at his baptism as the Father’s voice announced him as a beloved Son, giving a picture almost of a divine family of three. The gentleness of the Spirit is seen in Christ as he weeps over Jerusalem and longs to gather the people as a hen gathers chicks under her feathers. The Psalms sometimes describe God as keeping us under his protective wings. Although, ultimately, we know God is not a literal fire or dove, man or woman, sometimes our worship and imagery has neglected important aspects of his character. If these aspects are hard-wired into our nature—as well as celebrated in Scriptures, sometimes they make their way out in whatever ways possible. Veneration of Mary as the divine Mother is one way, perhaps, that the human heart as found to celebrate the Mother heart of God with so many paintings and icons displaying the holy mother and child. Even Protestants seem to honor the image in manger scenes and greeting cards each Christmas. Some seekers with a heart for the aspects of God reflected in women have taken the path of finding Sophia—Greek for Wisdom—the iconic face of the feminine divine found in the Book of Proverbs. Thomas Merton writes, “The Diffuse Shining of God is Hagia Sophia. Sophia is Gift, is Spirit, Donum Dei. She is God-given and God Himself as Gift. Sophia in all things is the Divine Life reflected in them.” Joyce Rapp, convinced by that quotation, also writes in her article “Desperately Seeking Sophia”, “In Jewish scripture, Sophia is a feminine voice, in contrast to a God of dominion and force. Jesus, too, has a Sophia heart, not the heart of someone seeking power. Sophia is concealed but ready to reveal just as Jesus is ‘the hidden wisdom of God’ (1 Cor. 2:7), ‘the revelation of the mystery kept secret for endless ages’ (Rom. 16:25). So this Mother’s Day 2019, I want to honor the Mother Heart of God. When I have suggested a message like this to pastors, I have sometimes received a smile or even a laugh, as though the concept is humorous or odd. But I wonder whether this concept of God is strange or whether our culture is unbalanced, even primitive. Ignoring the divine feminine in a way marginalizes or makes less significant women, motherhood, children, and even marriage and family. To put it bluntly, ignoring the Mother Heart of God is similar to archaic superstitions such as branding left-handed or red-headed people as evil or saying God is only worshiped on a mountain in Jerusalem. Yesterday was Good Friday 2019, and I felt as though I communicated with people from many different worlds: a priestess who is helping me understand interactions with Odin, my Messianic sister who was holding a Passover Seder, a Chinese professor who told me the bread of Christian communion literally turns into the body of the physical Jesus, a Canadian pastor who explained how Christian baptism came from old Jewish rituals that symbolized washing away of an old life to start a new one—for example, beginning a life as a king or husband or priest or new convert.
The “Many Worlds Theory” appears in science fiction stories where there are parallel universes co-existing and where people sometimes travel from one to another. Yesterday gave me this feeling as I felt these different experiences and perceptions converge. A Chinese friend was being baptized in a home swimming pool at our Friday night gathering. Tao spoke beforehand and told how he always knew there was a wisdom or power in the universe but he now felt it calling him through the Bible. At the same time, this Good Friday 2019 was his biological birthday, and on the table next to the bread and wine of communion was a birthday cake. Good Friday this year was also my wife Kristin’s birthday, and the Jewish Passover. Yesterday I also felt led to request my first monthly reading from a priestess-healer, feeling this may be a time of breakthrough as I finish my second round of Prednisone prescribed by a medical doctor to clear out gout once and for all. The sacred and mundane, the spiritual and physical seem intricately woven together. I thought back to my baptism, the day before my own biological birthday in 1991, when I first broke free of alcohol, self-destruction, and despair. Although recently I am expanding spiritually, I do not want to forsake the gifts and grace that have been given me, the foundation on which my life has been built. As I participated in the baptism and communion with people from China and America, with people from at least four different churches, I still felt a part of my sister’s faith, of the priestess’s beliefs, and of Tao’s wife Dixie who still has agnostic doubts. I find value in the Chinese professor with the literal ideas about communion and believe that his expression accesses some spiritual truth that his heart needs. Somehow these “many worlds,” these flowing perspectives within me, within any group, or within the world are like the river of Heraclitus. The river is the physical water and place but is at the same time the ever-changing current and the reflected rays of sun and warmth and the relativity of time itself. There is something here among us all that is absolutely the river, but perhaps a river of many worlds. |
Alan>Performing magician, >English teacher, Archives
March 2021
Categories |