The literature on Jesus is daunting, and I refer to more books and articles in this book than I cite below. But the following are the books that I kept close at hand while working on this project. Many of them have been old friends over many decades. Some are recent additions to my library. I referred to them often as I wrote this study.
Allison, Dale C. Jr. Jesus of Nazareth: Millenarian Prophet. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1998.
— Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010.
Armstrong, Karen. A History of God: The 4,000 Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. New York: Knopf, 1993.
— The Bible: A Biography. New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 2007.
Barnstone, Willis and Marvin Meyer, eds. The Essential Gnostic Scriptures. Boston: Shambhala, 2010.
Bauckham, Richard. Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2006.
Beilby, James K. and Paul Rhodes Eddy, eds. The Historical Jesus: Five Views. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009.
Bond, Helen K. The Historical Jesus: A Guide for the Perplexed. London: T & T Clark, 2012.
Borg, Marcus J. Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time. New York: Harper-Collins, 1994.
— with N. T. Wright. The Meaning of Jesus: Two Visions. New York: Harper-One, 1998.
Bourgeault, Cynthia. The Wisdom Jesus: Transforming Heart and Mind – a New Perspective on Christ and His Message. Boston: Shambhala, 2008.
Boyarin, Daniel. The Jewish Gospels: The Story of the Jewish Christ. New York: The New Press, 2012.
Brown, Raymond E. An Introduction to the New Testament. New York: Doubleday, 1997.
Bultmann, Rudolf. Theology of the New Testament. New York, Scribner, 19S5.
— New Testament & Mythology and Other Basic Writings. Trans. Schubert M. Ogden. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984.
Charlesworth, James D. Jesus and Archaeology. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2006.
Chilton, Bruce. Rabbi Jesus: The Jewish Lift and Teaching that Inspired Christianity. New York: Doubleday, 2000.
Crossan, James Dominic. The Historical Jesus: The Life of a Jewish Mediterranean Peasant. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1991.
— The Power of Parable: How Fiction by Jesus Became Fiction about Jesus. New York: HarperCollins, 2012.
Drury, John, The Parables in the Gospels. New York: Crossroad, 1985.
Funk, Robert W., Roy W. Hoover, and the Jesus Seminar. The Five Gospels: The Search for the Authentic Words of Jesus. New York: Macmillan, 1993.
Jeremias, Joachim. Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1969.
Levine, Amy-Jill, Dale C. Allison, Jr., and John Dominic Crossan, eds. The Historical Jesus in Context. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006.
MacCulloch, Diarmaid. Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years. New York: Penguin, 2009.
Meier, John P. A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus: The Roots of the Problem and the Person, Vol 1. New York: Doubleday, 1991.
— A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus: Mentor, Message and Miracles, Vol 2. New York: Doubleday, 1994.
— A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus: Companions and Competitor, Vol 3. New York: Doubleday, 2001.
— A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus: Law and Love, Vol 4. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2.007.
Otto, Rudolf. The Idea of the Holy. Trans. John W. Harvey. New York: Oxford University Press, 1923.
Pagels, Elaine: The Gnostic Gospels. New York: Random House, 1979.
— Revelations: Visions, Prophecy, and Politics in the Book of Revelation. New York: Viking, 2012.
Pelikan, Jaroslav. Jesus Through the Centuries: His Place in the History of Culture. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985.
Ratzlnger, Joseph (Pope Benedict XVI). Jesus of Nazareth. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2007.
Sanders, E. P. Jesus and Judaism. London: SCM, 1985.
Tillich, Paul. The Courage to Be. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1952..
— The Dynamics of Faith. New York: Harper & Row, 1957.
Vermes, Geza. Jesus the Jew: A Historian’s Reading of the Gospels. London: Collins, 1973.
— Jesus in the Jewish World. London: SCM, 2010.
Wills, Garry. What Jesus Meant. New York: Penguin, 2006.
— What the Gospel; Meant. New York: Penguin, 2008.
Wilson, A. N. Jesus: A Life. New York: Norton, 1972.
Wright, N. T. How God Became King: The Forgotten Story of the Gospels. New York: HarperOne, 2012..
— Jesus and the Victory of God. London: SPCK, 1996.
— The Resurrection of the Son of God. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003.
— Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Victory of Christ. New York: HarperOne, 2008.
Jacob Wrestling with the Angel – Rembrandt Genesis, chapters 25-50
Jacob wrestles with God
Jacob’s story: Jacob’s story takes up 25 chapters in Genesis. (It’s a family saga, and it’s also a Biblical soap opera.)
Today’s reading: Jacob is still traveling, and preparing to meet his brother Esau again; even after many years, he’s still afraid of what Esau may do to him and his family. (Whatever Esau chooses to do, Jacob knows he deserves it.)
Wrestling with fear: Jacob doesn’t sleep, but wrestles all night with the unknown future that waits in the morning. (But there’s Someone else there along with the dangers – Someone who won’t let him go.)
Wrestling with God: It turns out Jacob is meeting God again; first it was the dream of a ladder joining heaven and earth (Genesis 28); now, it’s a God who won’t let him go (Genesis 32).
We all wrestle with God
I believe every human being wrestles with God, whether they believe in God or not. There is Something – or Someone – who calls us, accompanies us on our way through life, Someone or Something who won’t let us go.
Andy’s story: For many years, as he struggled with mental illness, our son Andy was haunted by the kind of Christianity that pictures God as judgmental and even eternally condemning. After he died, his last journal was sent to us, and we found notes he’d written while listening to a radio sermon about Jacob.
God never lets us go: There were pages of notes from this sermon that captivated Andy, but the bottom line was this: Jacob was a ‘schemer’– and so was Andy – but God loves them anyway, and will never let them go.
Face to face with God: In listening to this sermon, Andy had come face to face with the loving God of Jesus.
Finding the Face of God in the Bible
Each of our lessons today reminds us of a time when someone came face to face with God.
Jacob wrestled with God in the desert, and learned that God was with him every step of the way. (God left his mark on Jacob, a wound he would carry for the rest of his life.) Genesis 32
Moses wrestled not just with God, but with the people of Israel – Jacob’s descendants. (God gave Moses the Commandments, and afterwards his face shone with the intensity of the encounter.) Exodus 34
Jesus wrestled with God’s call (not just with the devil!) in the desert;and for the rest of his life he followed the direction God had given him. (On the mountain, the disciples came face to face with God’s presence.) Luke 9
Paul never met Jesus in the flesh, but he met him on the road to Damascus: in a blinding light, Paul came to understood he was moving in the wrong direction. Years later, Paul would write, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three, and the greatest of these is love.” Acts 9; 1 Corinthians 13
This is the God of redeeming love that Andy finally met again at the end of his life – seen through Jacob’s story, read in the light of Jesus.
Our culture wrestles with Jesus – or at least wrestles with ideas about Jesus:
Some ask, “Did Jesus really exist?”
Others ask, “Was Jesus really the Son of God?
Some say, “You must believe in Jesus (my version of Jesus) to gain eternal life.”
Others say, “Jesus a great teacher, but his lessons were meant for a simpler world.”
Many Christians believe Jesus is still a window into the nature of God.
I believe that the God of Jesus Christ is a God of unending love and compassion.
What do you see when you wrestle with Jesus?
Preached at St. Benedict’s Episcopal Church, Los Osos August 6, 2017
This Sunday and next, Jesus tells parables about seeds (see Matthew 13:1-32).In these parables, some seeds land on barren pathways; some seeds are thrown among rocks and brambles; other seeds crowded out by weeds. And some seeds fall into good soil, becoming great trees strong enough to support the growing kingdom of God.
This Sunday and next, the lessons begin with Jacob’s story (see Genesis 25:19-33:17). We can hear Jacob’s saga as one of Jesus’ “good seeds”. His story has it all – the barren land, the rocks and brambles, and plenty of wicked weeds. But Jacob – in spite of himself – also turned out to be “good soil” where the promises of God can start growing into the kingdom.
The saga begins by telling us that Jacob and his brother Esau were twins, and were in conflict even in their mother’s womb. (Esau was born first, but Jacob came out holding onto his brother’s heel.) Things got no better as they grew up. As grown men, they continued to compete, and when their father was dying Jacob even connived to steal the blessing that was meant for his brother Esau.
Then, wisely, Jacob ran away from home and fled into the desert.
Don’t glorify that desert in your imagination. Jacob’s desert was as desolate as the Mojave, as barren as the vast wastes of Nevada – the last places you would expect to find God’s comfort and promise for the future. (And don’t glorify Jacob, either. He was a rascal. But this rascal’s story shows us that whatever our faults, God loves us and stays with us, and God’s promises to us will bear fruit, if only we – like Jacob – learn to listen and love.)
Genesis 28:10-17, in St. John’s illuminated Bible
Jacob came to a certain place and stayed there for the night, and he dreamed there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it reaching to heaven. The angels of God were ascending and descending on it…
Jacob’s Dream, by Marc Chagall
And in the dream the Lord stood beside Jacob and said, “Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go…” Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it…”
For at least 3,000 years, Jacob’s story has been a favorite. As adults we’ve seen his story in great art, and as little children many of us learned all the verses of “Jacob’s Ladder”.
Jacob’s story is a favorite because it reminds us that God meets us in many places… and some of those places are very ordinary. Like so many people, whether wandering in strange lands or close to home, Jacob found the presence of the Living God in an unexpected place, in a place where he wasn’t even looking. And so Jacob said,
Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it…
In the crowd at the Paris airport
Last month I went on a pilgrimage to holy places in France. One was Taize, a modern pilgrimage site, where thousands of young people come each week to spend seven days.
My pilgrimage really began with a taxi ride from the Paris airport. I was badly jet-lagged, but struck up a conversation with the driver, who had emigrated from Mauritius 20 years ago. My French is pretty minimal, and his English was only slightly better, but we managed. As we approached downtown Paris, the traffic slowed to a crawl… I noticed a sad man holding a piece of cardboard saying that he was a Syrian refugee.
Promptly, my driver rolled down the window and gave him some coins. At the end of our ride together, I told him that I was moved by his generosity and gave him much more than the usual tip — suggesting that perhaps he could give some of it to other refugees. He responded with a broad smile and a hearty handshake.
Clearly, my pilgrimage was not just to churches.
Three days later, our group of 16 pilgrims, led by three Presbyterian pastors and a Roman Catholic priest, climbed into two vans and headed south for Vezelay, which has been a pilgrimage site since the 11th century.
The next morning, we were led into the chapter room of the basilica for a deeply moving service in which we were formally commissioned and given medallions which we would wear for the next two weeks.
After three days based in Vezelay, our next stop was Taize…where each week thousands of pilgrims, mostly young, come through the gate to spend a few days.
Pilgrims arriving at Taize
Several times each day, people gather with the brothers in their large worship space….
to sing Taize chants, to listen to Scripture, and to pray. But Taize’s method is much more than music and prayer.
Pilgrims at worship
When young people come to Taize, they gather for prayer three times each day, singing chants and praying with the brothers, yes…
…but they also gather every day for Bible Study/Reconciliation. The young pilgrims are assigned to groups where not everyone speaks the same language. Perhaps you speak French, and also some English and German. Others speak German, and just a little Polish. (Some are American, and speak only English.) To talk with each other, they have to listen hard, they learn to translate for each other, and they have to struggle to share their own thoughts and beliefs. Through these daily conversations they are not only speaking their own truths, but learning to listen to each other…. that is, learning the languages the others speak.
Years ago, when we were in Oberlin, we began an evening Taize prayer service. Many college students came to the service, where they learned and loved the Taize chants. Eventually, two of those students decided to go to Taize to experience it for themselves.
Several weeks later, in the complete darkness of midnight, we heard people singing on the sidewalk below our bedroom window. The student pilgrims were back, singing “Jubilate Deo!” in a joyful round.
The next day, the pilgrims told us more of what Taize is really all about. Both were the children of divorce, and neither had been in contact with their fathers for years. But while at Taize, in the midst of the sharing circles, struggling to communicate with others who didn’t speak their language, singing and praying in worship, both decided to try to contact their fathers, and try again. Over the next year, that contact happened for both of them, and the family began to talk to each other again.
And so we learned that Taize is not just singing, but a Way:
A way of singing, a way of praying, and a way of reconciliation.
Saturday vigil Rob:
Most who come to Taize spend a week there, from Sunday afternoon through noon the following Sunday.
Worship for each week follows the pattern of Holy Week, leading up to Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. Our pilgrimage was planned so that we could worship at Taize each of these three days.
On Friday, our first day, most of our group huddled together next to the wall, yearning to be fully a part of this worship experience, but reluctant to sit on the floor in the midst of hundreds of youngsters.
On Saturday we split up and moved towards the center. Part of the Holy Saturday worship is having a candle you are holding lit by a neighbor, and then passing the light on. I noticed that several people behind me did not have candles. Beginning to feel confident about this place, I went to get them some. Having found that the candle bin was empty, I gave them mine. A tiny gesture, but meaningful to me.
Brother Roger, the founder of Taize, wrote:
The heart of worship at Taize, as at Taize-style worship around the world, is meditative singing. Songs so simple that they are easily memorized. Short songs, repeated many times, so that the singer can enter a meditative state. Songs in many languages, so that all will be included. And in the middle of the songs, silence.
Brothers and Muslim refugees
After worship on Sunday, our group met with Brother John, one of three American members of the Taize community. He told two stories that showed how Taize continues to develop new modes of reconciliation.
Brother John’s first story was about the Muslims coming to France from the Middle East. Like religious communities in many countries, Taize began by housing several refugee families on their grounds. Slowly, the numbers grew.
Then, in November of last year, the French government called: They were closing a refugee camp at Calais, on the English Channel, and would Taize be a reception center for unaccompanied minors? Taize did and, as with their earlier refugee residents, helped them integrate into French society.
Then the brothers began to study Islam to better understand their new neighbors, and created a three-day program to enable Christians and Muslims to pray together and work on reconciliation. This has been warmly received by the French Muslim community, and will continue.
Brother John’s second story was about St. Louis, Missouri, from which he had just returned after spending several months there. Following the violence in Ferguson in the summer of 2014, the local archbishop had asked the brothers to come to St. Louis, to help with reconciliation between the black and white communities.
St. Louis Pilgrimage of Trust
Modeled on Taize’s usual process, in St. Louis there was much singing, talking and praying in small groups. But the reconciliation process involved much more; as in Taize itself, the citizens of the St. Louis area had to learn each other’s languages. (Not only did blacks and whites have to work with each other, but Catholics had to learn how to listen to Protestants, and vice versa.) And to more fully express the hopes and dreams of the black community, Gospel music was added to the usual Taize chants.
(Did you know that “We are climbing Jacob’s ladder” is an African-American spiritual, and that the very last verse says, “Do you want your freedom”? Growing up white, we thought we knew every verse of “Jacob’s Ladder”, but we never heard that last verse.)
In Jacob’s dream, the Lord told him,
You shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south; and all the families of the earth
will be blessed in you and in your offspring…
Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said,
Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it…
And he said,
How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God,
and this is the gate of heaven.
And so Taize has become one of God’s many gates to heaven,
and a potential blessing for all the families of the earth.
We truly believe that all around the world, we can learn to do the same, because… wherever there is charity, and love…God is there….
Today’s Scriptures all point to the Trinity, even though the word itself isn’t in the Bible.
Genesis 1:1-2:4 Six centuries before Jesus was born, an unknown poet-priest imagined God at the beginning of time: hovering over the void, creating life out of chaos. Sun, moon, and stars are born; the earth is formed, with its mountains and seas; plants spring up, animals begin to roam the earth, and human beings are created. When we read this particular verse (Genesis 1:26), we hear God saying that we are made in the divine image – but we often fail to notice that God is speaking in the plural voice: Let us make humankind in our image. Here, in the first chapter of the Bible, is the God of Trinity.
1 Corinthians 12:1-13:13 In the first century, St. Paul used a powerful metaphor to describe the church – he called it the body of Christ, where each member of the body contributes to the life of the whole. But there’s another metaphor in this passage, a metaphor which may be even more helpful to us as we try to understand the Trinity: Now there are different gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are different ministries, but the same Lord; and there are different energies, but the same God, operating in everything. The Greek word Paul used was energeia (which is the root for our own word “energy”). Paul can use the metaphor of the body, and speak of the divine energy that flows through it, because the Corinthians are already experiencing the energy of God’s Spirit moving through them. This passage ends with its most famous sentence and its major point: Now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13) The word for this energeia, in every language, is Love; and the Christian word for the energeia of Love is Trinity.
The early church: By the fourth century, Eastern theologians had found another metaphor to describe how God’s energy works: perichoresis (a word we can loosely translate as “circling around”, and the root for our own word, “choreography”). If you ever saw the movie, “Zorba the Greek”, you’ve seen a perichoresis– because modern Greeks still use the same word for their ancient folk dance. In perichoresis the dancers join hands and move in a circle, stepping faster and faster as the music speeds up – until, watching from the sidelines, by-standers can no longer see individual dancers, only the moving energy of the whole circle. Searching for a metaphor to describe God’s nature and activity, the Eastern theologians looked at perichoresis and said, “That’s what the Trinity is like.”
The Trinity is a harmonious set of relationships bound together by the energy of love. But the Trinity is not consumed by its own life and relationships; Trinity moves in the world, and acts on the world, sharing its energy with the world. So look again – within this relationship of love – within the embrace of Creator, Spirit and Jesus – there is more room. There is space for everyone, even for a whole cosmos. No one needs to be on the sidelines of the Trinity – all are invited to join the dance.
Everyone who has ever loved someone knows this dance of love. Whenever we love, whoever we love – whether a baby, a parent; a beloved friend, a spouse; a neighbor or co-worker – we are connecting deeply with that person. We share our life’s energy with them; we dance alongside them. And often, when we love, our love becomes so deep and so full that it spills over into the lives of our families and friends, and they dance along with us. Whenever we truly love, we invite new people into the dance. That’s perichoresis, and that’s how the Trinity works.
Come join the dance!
There’s an Episcopal Church in San Francisco that feels in many ways like a Greek church, and it has a Greek name – Sr. Gregory of Nyssa.
St. Gregory’s is never empty. Around its upper walls of St. Gregory’s there is a parade of saints, each participating in the never-ending dance. These saints come from every century of the church. http://www.saintgregorys.org/saints-by-name.html
On Sundays at St. Gregory’s we find the congregation, today’s dancing saints, circling the altar as they worship. These saints come from every part of San Francisco, and beyond. http://www.saintgregorys.org/
On Fridays at St. Gregory’s we find members of the congregation again, now circling the altar to distribute food to the neighborhood.
What a powerful demonstration of God’s love for all – and what a powerful metaphor for the God of Trinity!
But you don’t have to go to San Francisco to join this dance. The dancing God of Trinity is found wherever there are communities of people joined together in the dance of love, moving together, using the energy of love for peace, harmony, and justice.
The dancing God of Trinity leads us to pour out our love for each other, just as the Creator, Son and Spirit share their mutual love. When the God of Trinity leads us in the dance, every member of the community has equal worth and equal place. No one is left out, and others are always invited in.
If God is a dancing community, so is St. Benedict’s, Los Osos! The dancing God of Trinity – joyful, dynamic, interactive, sharing, loving, serving – provides the model for our own dance. Every Sunday we come together to practice perichoresis. When Sunday’s music comes to an end, we are sent forth to dance in the world – to bring healing and hope to others, and to invite others to join the dance.
So once again, as we do every Sunday, let’s join the dance of Trinity:
Come, join the dance of Trinity, before all worlds begun –
the interweaving of the Three: Creator, Spirit, Son.
The universe of space and time did not arise by chance,
but as the Three, in love and hope, made room within their dance.
Come, see the face of Trinity, new-born in Bethlehem;
then bloodied by a crown of thorns outside Jerusalem.
The dance of Trinity is meant for human flesh and bone;
when fear confines the dance in death, God rolls away the stone.
Come, speak aloud of Trinity, as wind and tongues of flame
set people free at Pentecost to tell the Savior’s name.
We know the yoke of sin and death, our necks have worn it smooth;
go tell the world of weight and woe that we are free to move!
Within the dance of Trinity, before all worlds begun,
we sing the praises of the Three: Creator, Spirit, Son.
Let voices rise and interweave, by love and hope set free,
to shape in song this joy, this life: the dance of Trinity.
But our small selves cannot see these truths easily.(This is exactly why we need elders who will mirror life truthfully for us.)
Wisdom about our need for “mirrors”….
True elders mirror back the goodness they find in us. These intimate relationships are the greatest mirrors of all, because they can lead us to our True Selves.
(Not-so-mature people will mirror their own un-lived and confused lives onto us; only those who respond to the real you, good or bad, can help us in the long run.)
By the second half of life, other people have less power to infatuate us or hurt us. Now we can tell the difference between who we really are and how others see us. And so we begin to step out of the hall of revolving and self-reflecting mirrors.
But we can usually do this only if we ourselves have had a true mirror – at least one loving, honest friend to ground us (even the accepting gaze of the Friend).
Wisdom about the “second journey”….
The second journey is ours to walk or to avoid. If we don’t want to go on that journey, it’s our choice.
That means no one can keep us from the second half of our own life except ourselves. Nothing inhibits the second journey except our own lack of courage, patience, and imagination.
Some falling apart on the first journey is necessary for this to happen – so do not waste a moment of time lamenting… Pain is part of the deal.
God will always give you exactly what you truly want and desire. So make sure you desire deeply – desire God, and desire your True Self.
All your emptying out is only for the sake of a Great Outpouring. God, like nature, abhors all vacuums, and rushes in to fill them.
As we finish “Falling Upward”, I’m remembering Mary Oliver’s poem, “The Summer Day”, which we read after discussing the first chapter. What does the poem say to you now?
The Summer Day – by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean –
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down –
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
It is rare to really absorb the deeper meaning of the Gospel in the first half of life. When we were building (and then protecting) our ‘containers’, we may have settled for the answers our families and churches passed on to us.
But when we move into the second half of life, we can become impatient with institutions, including the church. We know that every institution needs to be concerned about practical things like membership, policies, and principles, but we’re now aware that most of these concerns are ego needs, not soul needs.
Now our intimate circles may be growing smaller. We may bless others who are doing what they feel they must do for a group, but we may no longer be able to join them.
As we distance ourselves, we may feel a certain loneliness. But that loneliness can be accompanied by a new ability to be alone – and even to be happy alone.
We all tend to move towards a needed introversion as we get older. Such introversion is necessary in order to unpack all that life has given us and taken from us.
Now we can begin to engage in contemplation.
Dualistic, ‘black-and-white’ thinking helps us by making comparisons. The dualistic mind compares, competes, conflicts, conspires, condemns, cancels out any contrary evidence (and at times can even crucify).
But dualistic thinking doesn’t help us in most real-life situations. We’re meant to see in wholes, not in parts.
The most important issues in life need ‘both-and thinking’. Split people see and create splits in everything and everybody. Whole people see (and create) wholeness wherever they go.
Where will we find others who will join us in the contemplative life?
Jesus defined church not as an institution but as those places “where two or three are gathered in my name” (Matthew 18:20).
In his parable of the seed, Jesus reminded his disciples that every seed needs receptive soil before it can grow (Matthew 13:4f).
Receptive people help us grow. These people are the ‘good soil’. Two or three people, gathered in Jesus’ name and seeking deeper truth, can create whole new levels of dialogue and friendship.
Could such people support you as you practice the contemplative life? Could they also support you as you move from prayerful contemplation to constructive action?
Some questions from the Companion Journal:
Could ‘both-and’ thinking help you (or your loved ones) when facing suffering and/or death? (p. 159)
Could ‘both-and’ thinking help you deal with issues at work, in your community, or in political debates? (p. 160)
Could ‘both-and’ thinking help you respond to a troubling world with courage and compassion? (p. 160)
Could ‘both-and thinking’ help you move from prayerful contemplation to constructive action? (p. 160)
Spiritual maturity is largely a growth in seeing – but learning to see fully seems to take most of our lifetime.
When we are young, we all identify so strongly with our personas that we become masters of denial – and we l earn to eliminate or deny anything that doesn’t support our self-image.
By the second half of life, we’ve all bumped up against our shadow selves; regular contact with our shadows gradually detaches us from the personaswe worked so hard to construct in the first half of life.
Neither our persona nor our shadow is evil in itself; they just allow us to do evil and not know it. (Remember, hypocrite is a Greek word that simply means “actor”, someone playing a role rather than being “real”.)
Our shadow is what we refuse to see about ourselves, and what we don’t want others to see.
Our persona (which is Greek for “stage mask”) is what we choose to identify with, what other people want from us – and reward us for. This “stage mask” is not bad, or necessarily egocentric; it is just not “true”.
So our self-image nothing more than that – an image – which isn’t worth protecting, promoting, or denying. Our self-image is not substantial or lasting; it is just created out of our own minds, desires, and choices – and other people’s choices for us!
As Jesus said, if we can begin to “make friends” with those who bring us challenging messages, we’ll begin to see some of our own shadow. But if we aren’t willing to see our shadow, we’ll miss out on much-needed wisdom, and end up “imprisoned” within ourselves or “taken to court” by others:
Make friends with your opponent quickly while he is taking you to court; or he will hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the officer, and the officer will follow you into prison. You will not get out until you have paid the last penny.” (Matthew 5:25-26)
The “opponent taking us to court” is a telling metaphor for what we allow inner stories to do to us. We can create entire and self-justifying scenarios of blame, anger, and hurt – toward ourselves or toward others. But Jesus is saying, “Don’t go there!”
Moving to second-half-of-life wisdom comes through healthy self-critical thinking, including necessary shadow work. Gradually, we learn to see ourselves beyond our own shadows/disguises.
Shadow work in humiliating work, but properly so. And I am sorry to report that it continues until the end of life, the only difference being that we are no longer surprised by our surprises or so totally humiliated by our humiliations!
The saints learn and grow from encountering their shadows. A saint is someone who no longer has an “I” to protect or project. They saints learn they will never be perfect – and they’ll never be perfectly right; so they just try to live in right relationships. In other words, they try above all else to be loving.
The reason that mature or saintly people can feel so peaceful – so accepting of self and others – is that there is not much hidden shadow self left. (There is always and forever a little more, however! No exceptions. Shadow work never stops.)
Shadow work is almost another name for falling upward, because the closer we get to the Light, the more of our shadow we will see. Lady Julian of Norwich put it best of all: “First there is the fall, and then we recover from the fall. Both are the mercy of God!”
There will still be darkness in the second half of our lives. But as we grow spiritually, we developed greater ability to hold the darkness creatively and with less anxiety. (This is what St. John of the Cross called “luminous darkness” – deep suffering and intense joy can coexist within us.)
In the second half of life, the boundaries of our container have been enlarged by the constant addition of new experiences and relationships. (We are like expandable suitcases, and our lives have stretched us, almost without knowing!)
In the second half of life, it is good to be a part of the general dance; we no longer have to stand out on the dance floor. We are able and eager to generate life from our own abundance and for the benefit of following generations. (This is what Erik Erikson called the “generative” stage of life. )
In the second half of life, we’ve learned to fight things only when we feel directly called and equipped to do so. We have learned ever so slowly, and with much resistance, that most frontal attacks on evil just produce another kind of evil in ourselves. (And we now know that daily life requires prayer and discernment more than knee-jerk responses.)
And, ironically, in this second half of life we’re more able than ever to change people – but we don’t need to, and that makes all the difference. Now we can aid and influence other people simply by being who we are. In the poet’s wonderful words, we’ve found that:
… nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
Last Sunday, we stood on the mountain of the Transfiguration, looking ahead to the light of Easter. This Sunday, we are standing with Jesus in the desert, looking ahead to Pentecost…
But why Pentecost? It’s still three months away!
On Pentecost we’ll remember how the Holy Spirit came to Jesus’ disciples. There they were, gathered in the upper room, waiting as Jesus had told them to do. But they felt abandoned and they were afraid. They were afraid that Jesus was never coming back. But suddenly the Spirit came upon each of them – reassuring them that Jesus was still with them, and giving them courage for the future. (see Acts 2:1-4)
Did you think that they remembered Pentecost because it was such an exciting spiritual experience? I don’t think so – they remembered it because they knew that Jesus, the man they had known so well, was now present through the Spirit. The Holy Spirit has Jesus’ personality, which points constantly to a compassionate and loving God. (In the New Testament, the Holy Spirit is even called “the Spirit of Jesus”. See Acts 16:7)
That Spirit would now work through the disciples, by pointing the way forward. Even today, the same Spirit who pulled Jesus into the desert, who filled the disciples with courage, is pulling us into the future.
The God of Relationship
The God of Relationship, the God of compassion is also the God of Becoming, the God of dynamic change, who is calling us to become co-creators of the future.
Can we – you and I – really help create the future? On Maundy Thursday we’ll remember the Last Supper, when Jesus began to tell his disciples about the coming Spirit. And he said to the disciples (who didn’t believe it any more than we can believe it about ourselves), “Because of the Spirit, you will do greater things than I…” (see John 14:12)
How the magnet works:
In his book, The God of Becoming and Relationship, Rabbi Bradley Artson tries to explain how prayer works. He remembers when he was a very little boy, playing in the field behind his house. He’d take his magnet out in his pocket, sit down on the ground and begin to run his magnet through the dirt. All the bits of iron, that were resting in the soil, unseen by human eyes, began to cling to the magnet. The magnet took on a “tail” of filings, each of which was being oriented internally to the pull of the magnet.
For Rabbi Artson, this is what happens whenever we pray: God is pulling us forward, the Spirit is shaping us internally, and we are being pointed towards God. Process Theology calls this pull the “lure” – God calling us forward, into acts of love, compassion, and justice.
Lures in the desert:
Fish swimming in a river look up and see food floating above them. But not all the “lures” above them are actually healthy food. Some of the “lures” have been cast there by fishermen, hoping to catch their own dinner.
The Spirit “lured” Jesus into the desert. We might even say, as Mark’s Gospel tells us, that the Spirit “drove” – or even propelled – Jesus. That’s the same Spirit that came to the disciples on Pentecost! (See Mark 1:12).
But there were other “lures”. the Tempter also “lured” Jesus in the desert, with offers of bread to satisfy his hunger, political power over the world, and spiritual power that would draw all eyes to him.
How did Jesus resist the Tempter? His life had already been shaped by the faith passed on to him by his parents, by his village synagogue, and by his reading of Scripture. Notice how Jesus responds to each of the Tempter’s offerings: he quotes Scripture:
We do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God. (Deuteronomy 8:3)
Do not put the Lord your God to the test. (Deuteronomy 6:16)
Worship the Lord your God, and serve only God. (Deuteronomy 6:13)
Now, in addition to his faith and his Scriptures, Jesus is also being guided by the Spirit, who takes him to the desert to show him the direction God has for him.
With faith, Scripture, Spirit, Jesus knew the direction towards God – and he knew when he was being “lured” in the wrong direction.
There are lures all around us: We are called forward by God, and we are also tempted – how will we know which “lure” to choose? We need the ”magnet” – to be lured, pulled, and shaped by the Spirit
So many choices, so many “lures”
Do you know about the “lures”on your smart phone? First, make sure that your screen – with all its attractive “apps” – is on; and make sure that your sound is off!
Then look at all those choices before you:
You could play Solitaire…
You could look at Facebook…
You could text a friend…
You could surf the net…
You could turn on your timer to see how long this sermon is going to last….
Or, tomorrow morning around 5 a.m., you could use your cell phone to send out your latest “tweet” – so all the world will be talking about you, and glory and honor will abound for you all day long.
Did you know you have a compass on your phone?
Find your compass…
Now find “North”….
Now imagine that “North” points you to Jesus…
Now imagine that this “app” will lead you through Lent and all the way to Pentecost.
There are “lures” all around us
Last night I was explaining this wonderful sermon illustration to my husband Rob, who was looking at me with that look I’ve known for more than 60 years – which says, “You’re off base, but I’m too polite to say so.”
But humoring me, Rob looked at his compass – and suddenly he found that his “North” wasn’t pointing in exactly the same direction as my “North.” Now he was interested – depending on where he was standing in the room, “North” was swinging back and forth.
What was going on?
Whenever Rob came near something metal the compass wavered. And when he came near the iron étagère, his compass really started swinging…. And he finally told me, “Well, cell phone compasses are notoriously unreliable!”
Rob’s right – a cell phone compass is not the most reliable way to find “North”, and we couldn’t use a cell phone compass in a desert where there’s no service.
Fortunately, we don’t need modern technology to walk the Way of Jesus – we only need what Jesus had:
A Pathway into the Presence of God The Sunday of the Transfiguration: February 26, 2017
Today we find ourselves on the Mount of the Transfiguration, looking at Jesus standing in the blazing light of God.
From this mountain, from this light, Jesus will walk all the way to Jerusalem, where the cross awaits him. Beyond that cross another blazing light, the light of Easter, waits for Jesus – and for us.
But to get to that light, to get to Easter, we’ll have to walk the same road Jesus walks.
On Sundays, the road of Lent will bring us stories of disciples – not the familiar disciples like Peter, James and John, but others who met Jesus along his way: a man born blind, a Samaritan woman, Nicodemus the teacher, Martha and Mary of Bethany. The Gospels tell us that each of them, when they met Jesus, asked the same question we ask when we meet Jesus for the first time:
“Who is this man Jesus, and do I want to follow him?”
On weekdays, the road of Lent can lead us into a world shaped by different values – the values lived and taught by Jesus. These steps were originally outlined by St. Benedict in the 6th century, and adapted by Sr. Joan Chittister in the 20th century. Following these steps brings the answer to another question Christians always ask:
“How can I learn to live like Jesus?”
Over the centuries, St. Benedict’s steps have been a pathway into the Presence of God for millions of Christians. Even today, as we practice each new step, we will feel the Spirit of God gradually re-shaping our lives, and eventually leading us to our own Easters.