Transcendent Bullshit

I must admit that prayer has confused me for some time now. I used to pray on a semi-regular basis, as any good evangelical would. If I was honest though, most of my prayer life surrounded asking for things like safety of loved ones, direction in life, good weather, or a hollandaise sauce that didn't suck. Oh, I'd add the requisite praise section so I didn't piss off God. And of course the, I'm-so-sorry-for-my-sins bit, just to make sure I ended up in heaven. After all I didn't want to end up like my neighbour who has blown my driveway every winter, all winter, for the past 23 years, but doesn't call himself a Christian. But, basically I was just asking God to do things for me. I didn't see anything wrong with this as most of the sermons, or books that I came across on prayer seemed to be about how to get God to do stuff for you.

Then I started down my current spiritual path that questioned everything, including prayer. I quickly became disgusted with my prayer life. How can I pray for safety, when others who pray just as hard are killed? How can I pray for food when others in the world are starving? Do I deserve it more? Or, more importantly, do they deserve it less? What about those that are riddled with cancer, did they not pray hard enough? I quickly stopped praying. I loved God too much to pray with such disrespect. Plus, any God that I could control with prayer wasn't worth worshiping.

There is so much discussion, controversy, and opinion about prayer - everyone seems to think they have the answer - that I'm starting to think that, like all things that have a lot of conflicting opinions, nobody's right. I wonder if we've missed the point entirely. What if prayer has nothing to do with the content of your prayer like praising God, or asking forgiveness, or manipulating? What if it doesn't matter if you're a health-and-wealth pentecostal, or an ascetic living in the desert? What if it does matter if you're speaking in tongues, or reciting the liturgy, because that's not the point.

What if the only point to prayer, no matter how you do it, is just to keep us connected to the divine? To make us realize that there's something other than ourselves out there. That there is something transcendent to aspire to? That there's more to life and living than just us? Maybe when you pray for something, and you get it (and I have, or so it seems), maybe it's just coincidence. Maybe it would have happened if you had prayed or not. Maybe that's why people pray for food and still starve to death, or pray for safety and still get killed, or pray for healing and still end up in a pine box. Maybe the tapestry illustration is just bullshit, but that's ok, because through it all we've remained connected to the transcendent - to something beyond ourselves.

There's a story about some famous guy - I forget his name - but, apparently he said, "I have so much to do today, I couldn't possibly get it all done without 3 hours of prayer". Perhaps he just wasted 3 hours of his day that could have been spent more productively. Or maybe, like a Buddhist, he spent 3 hours transcendently connected to the divine, and whatever happened that day would have happened anyway.

Dandelions and Daffodils

Let it never be said that I can't change my mind! I have recently changed my mind on one of my most fundamental beliefs - something I've held since was in my teens. In fact I have written about it on this very blog.

Denominationalism.

There is a blog that I follow a bit, and sometimes post comments on. It has become more and more apparent that the author of the blog, and most of her commenters are charismatic. In fact I would say that a good chunk of the people on the blog also go to the same church.

The other day the topic was Spiritual Gifts. Now I have been mulling over this topic for awhile, and not really sure where I stand on this, but I posted a comment that took a different point of view than most of the others, and was basically summarily dismissed. Needless to say this just annoyed me. I can handled someone having a different opinion - thats fine - but to just dismiss it outright I felt was just rude. I wasn't impressed.

But then something happened.

A picture of a field of wild flowers popped into my head. At first I didn't know what to make of this. Had that burrito at lunch finally returned to that it's revenge? Were the mushrooms I bought off the guy on the street actually magic like he said? But then it slowly dawned on me; this is how God sees all the different versions of Christianity. Each one is beautiful in its own way. Each one has a certain type of attraction. Not all people are attracted to the same kind of flowers, so it takes differing kinds. Not only that, but it is actually the variety that is beautiful. A field that is all one type of flower is not as beautiful as one that is filled with all sorts of flowers. One might say yes, but there is beauty in a monolith. And while that is true, the monolith is only beautiful in contrast to its surroundings. Not only is the variety beautiful, but God wants this variety because each one celebrates a different aspect of his essence: the timelessness of the liturgy, the emotion of the charismatic. the fervency of the evangelical, etc.

I didn't necessarily think that everyone should believe like me, but I did think that there shouldn't be any distinctions. And this is where there is a very big BUT (you knew there had to be one). The field of wild flowers is only beautiful if they aren't fighting with one another, or thinking they should be the only ones in the field, and trying to take over - when that happens we call them weeds - and we pull them out and burn them. And the problem with this whole thing is that I'm not sure that humanity, particularly certain conservative protestant denominations, can actually stop thinking they should be the only ones in the field. I mean let's be honest, Catholics, Anglicans, Methodists, Lutherans etc don't have this problem.

It's the old joke about the guy who dies and goes to heaven. St Peter meets him at the pearly gates and as he leads him in he says to the guy "be quiet as we pass the next room". In the room are a bunch of people praising and worshipping. The guy asks St Peter "who are they?" St Peter says "oh, them. Those are the (insert whatever conservative protestant denomination you want in here) . They think they're the only ones here".

For my part though, I'm going to be ok with whatever denomination or tradition you belong to. I may not agree with everything you believe, but I will try to look for the common ground between us. After all, I can't control what other people think. I can only control what I think, and that's hard enough most times.

Seeing Through the Eyes of God

Several years ago a friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer – for the second time. He had previously been married, and in a cruel twist of timing, the day he started planning his second wedding, he also had to start planning his funeral.

Over the course of the next five years or so he steadily, and inevitably, declined. First getting thin from loss of appetite, and then getting thick, but only in spots, as the evil inside him started to show itself and take over his body.

I visited him regularly and did odd jobs for him around the house as his ability to do those things faded like an old memory, but sometimes we just sat and talked. Surprisingly, there was lots of laughter; he maintained his sense of humor to the end. Eventually he asked me if I would be co-executor with his second wife. I felt honored, so I accepted. All I would need to do is help her out with a few things he said.

Little did I know.

During that time I was part of the religious spectrum that believed one had to say the ‘prayer’ in order to get to heaven. So, one day, while we were visiting, I felt I needed to do my duty. I told him about God and how much He loved him - how it was never too late. Despite the sun streaming into the window there was a shadow of death in the room, and it made the whole conversation seem empty and pointless. So I hung my head and mumbled something about, as a friend, I felt I needed to tell him this, but I would never bring it up again - unless he wanted to. He politely thanked me, and told me that there were other people who had told him the same thing.

We never talked about it again.

Eventually he succumbed and, as promised, I helped his wife with the execution of the Will. Part of his estate was leaving a small sum of money for all his kids. His youngest daughter had challenges. Technically it wasn’t Autism, but you could easily be forgiven for calling it that. All the kids got their money, except the youngest, who we set up a trust fund for.

Over time everything was taken care of except the administration of the trust fund. And that’s when the fun started. His first wife wanted that money for herself - and wanted it bad - but we knew he didn’t want that.

When I was younger I would often go for a drive if I needed to work out a problem. Driving seems to put me into a meditative state where the possibilities are endless. One day while driving to work, I was thinking about his ex-wife and all the problems I was having. I must admit that some of those thoughts weren’t very Christian. I hated her: I hated her selfishness, I hated her greed, I hated all the grief she was causing me.

And then I felt bad.

After awhile the thought occurred to me; “I wonder how God views her?” And then another thought; “I should ask God to show me how he views her, maybe that would help”. So I asked God to show me how he sees her. I expected one of two responses; either nothing at all, or some kind of warm fuzzy glow in the middle of my chest, like a shot of Gin knocked back too quickly.

I wasn’t prepared for what actually happened.

My vision blurred. My nose plugged up. Within a minute I could barely see. I just about had to pull over to the side of the road I was crying so hard. The tears were burning rivers down my face, and the snot in my nose couldn’t get out fast enough. I was bawling like a schoolgirl rejected by her first boyfriend. These were tears of sadness and love, and they were inconsolable. They were the tears a parent sheds for a wayward child they love with every fiber of their being, and it destroys them to see the self-destructive path they have chosen.

It was terrifying.

In retrospect I don’t know if it was God or, as the Buddhist say, some moment of enlightenment, but it’s quite possible I will never make that request of God again. There was something very primal about it, yet very sacred. It was if I had stepped into an area where only God can dwell, and where only God should dwell. I felt like I was trespassing on a rich man’s property. I had touched the Holy and was found wanting.

I would like to say that everything worked out with his ex-wife, but it hasn’t. However, it did make me see that I cannot hate. But more than anything it made me see how much God, or whatever word you chose, loves us - all of us - not just those in our tribe: a love that’s meant to be lived through us.

Everybody Hates Karl

Karl Barth, for those that don't know, was a German Theologian in the early 20th century - a contemporary of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I have read many quotes from Barth and couldn't figure out what all the fuss was - he seemed to make a lot of sense to me. From what I heard, we evangelicals hated Barth - or were supposed to hate Barth. So, never being one to conform, I bought one of his books, and having the tremendous grasp of the obvious that I do, quickly realized what the problem was.

Here are a few excerpts from his chapter on Free Grace;

Strange Christianity, whose most pressing anxiety seems to be that God's grace might prove to be all to free on this side. That hell, instead of being populated with  many people, might some day prove to be empty! ...

Even in the midst of hell, grace would still be grace, and even in the midst of hell it would have to be honored and praised and therefore announced to the other inhabitants of hell...

We must reckon with the fact that [grace] can always be at work outside the walls of the Church and can be announced even by quite other tongues than those which have been given to us. Its being so free brings fresh air again and again into the Church. We need this fresh air, and we should not try to shut it out with the holy games of our churchly speaking and behavior...

We ought not to act as if we knew this or that, even in an elementary way, when we are only guessing. That God's grace is free grace will be impossible for us to overlook at this point,.... But this much is sure: it is also here, and precisely here it is grace. We know just one thing: that Jesus Christ is the same also in eternity, and that His grace is whole and complete, enduring through time into eternity, into the new world of God which will exist and be recognized in a totally different way, that it is unconditional and hence is certainly tied to no purgatories, tutoring sessions, or reformatories in the hereafter...

One cannot deal with the free grace of God the way one can deal with a principle. The heralds of free grace cannot advertise themselves as, or behave like, purveyors of a principle. In fact they must deny the "human self-assurance" which seeks to "put the lord's word and work to the service of any arbitrarily chosen wishes, goals and plans”. The message of free grace has never remained pure, has always been perverted into its opposite when it has been put into some sort of service or framework which is foreign to it, whether worldly or spiritual, philosophical or theological, ...

If the Church does not love the message of free grace (if it stands apart from people with too many scruples, if it meets them with too many reproaches), if it is afraid of that message and is too pious and moralistic for people - what is the Church then? Nothing, nothing at all!

I can see why we evangelicals are supposed to hate Barth; he completely undermines our dualistic, us vs them mentality. He says things like; "Jesus Christ is the same today, tomorrow and forever", where's that in the bible! (insert sarcasm emoticon here). And worse than that he agrees with such obvious heretics as CS Lewis.

Seriously though, what an incredible freedom and relief of pressure, to have the ability to say "I don't know". That even if a loved one died without "knowing Christ" that you do know that God's grace is forever. That there may be validity to someone else's point of view. That we don't have to have all the answers. That God loves everyone, no matter what, or when. Maybe then we evangelicals could relax, and just love people for who they are. Now that would be good news!

I hope Karl is right.

An empty cup of tea

Th Master Nan-in had a visitor who came to inquire about Zen, but instead of listening the visitor kept talking about his own ideas. After awhile Nan-in served tea. He poured tea into his visitors cup until it was full. Then he kept pouring. Finally the visitor could not restrain himself, "Don't you see it's full?"he said. "You can't get anymore in." "Just so", replied Nan-in, stopping at last. "And like this cup you are filled with your own ideas. How can you expect me to give you Zen unless you offer an empty cup?"

I think we as evangelicals are very much like this cup of tea, especially if we've been in the church all our lives. We know all the answers, we've been told what to believe. We've been told that we have all the knowledge, and that even though there may be other traditions who seem to sincerely believe that, "they are sincerely wrong".  Our cups are so full and overflowing that not only can we not get anymore in, we can't even move the cup to someplace useful.

Mark Buchanan has just put out another book, "Your Church is too Safe". Mark is a good writer, who pastors out of British Columbia. His books try to get Christians to think outside the box, at least a little, although I don't know how successful he is - he might be a bit too subtle. In an excerpt from this latest book, he makes two distinctions between the definitions of the words Traveler / Tourist and Disciple / Believer.

Traveler literally means "one who travails." He labours, suffers, endures. A traveller.. ...gets impregnated with a new and strange reality, grows huge and awkward trying to carry it, and finally, in agony, births something new and beautiful. To get there, he immerses himself in a culture. learns the language and customs, lives with the locals, imitates the dress, eats what's set before him. He takes risks, some enormous, and makes sacrifices, some extravagant. He has tight scrapes and narrow escapes. He is gone along time. If he ever returns, he returns forever altered...

A tourist, not so. Tourist means, literally, "one who goes in circles." He's just takes an exotic detour home. He's only passing through, sampling wares, acquiring souvenirs. He tastes more than he eats what's put before him. He retreats each night to what's safe and familiar. He picks up a word here, a phrase there, but the language and the world it's imbedded in, remains opaque and cryptic, and vaguely menacing. He spectates and consumes. He returns to where he comes from with an album of photos, a few momentos, a cheap hat. He's happy to be back. He declares there's no place like home...

....At some point we stopped calling Christians disciples and started calling then believers. A disciple is one who follows and imitates Jesus. She loses her life in order to find it. She steeps in the language and culture of Christ until his word and his world reshape hers, redefine her, change inside and out how she thinks and dreams and, finally, lives....

...A believer, not so. She holds certain beliefs, but how deep down these go depends on the weather or her mood. She can get defensive, sometimes bristlingly so, about her beliefs, but in her honest moments she wonders why they've made such a scant difference....

... You can't be a disciple without being a believer. But - here's the rub - you can be a believer and not a disciple. You can say all the right things, think all the right things, believe all the right things, do all the right things, and still not follow and imitate Jesus...

...The Kingdom of God is made up of travellers, but our churches are largely populated with tourists. The Kingdom is full of disciples, but our churches are filled with believers.

I would hope it isn't happening in Mark's church, but the issue that I see is that those in the pews  are being filled to overflowing with the notion of being a tourist-believer. This is exactly where the pulpit wants people, but it's not where God wants them. We have phrases like; 'this world's not my home; I'm just passing through; strangers in a strange land; be ye in the world not of the world (this last one has been mis-read for centuries to justify the previous ones. Taken in it's proper context it has nothing to do with separating yourself from the world).

Those of us who are serious about being Traveler-Disciples need to take our cup to the sink, dump it out, and start letting God - and only God - fill it back up again. When God fills our cup, there's always room for more; more of him and more of others.

 

 

 

The wheels are in the box - or - Do as I say, not as I do

Did you ever have one of those moments where you think to yourself; "What was I thinking?" I usually have little moments like that, but the other day I had a bigger one.

It was pre-Christmas, and I was wandering through Costco looking for something specific (as if that justifies it). It was packed with shoppers and getting worse by the minute. Actually, to say wandering is a bit misleading, it was more like a speed walking at the olympics.

At one point I went past the section where they have all the bulky items that they don't really sell a lot of; things like mixers, filing cabinets - you know what I mean. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a smallish woman coming out of that section, struggling with a fairly large box.

She doesn't have a cart.

I assume she is heading towards the checkouts - I'm not. I remember thinking to myself; "Why doesn't she get a cart?" So I shrug my shoulders, and continue my search.

I get to the area that I think my item is going to be, but it's not. Growing more frustrated, it occurs to me that there is an area close to the checkouts where it might be, so I head that direction.

On my way to the checkouts I come across the same woman and she is obviously still struggling. We are now side by side. I look at her. She looks at me. We smile. I see that what she is struggling with is a set of luggage in a box. Then I say to her; "You know they have wheels?" She politely laughs and says; "Yes, but they're in the box".

We part company.

I find what I am looking for eventually, and leave Costco. It's not until I'm half way home that I realize what an idiot I am. I spout all this nonsense on this blog, and to anyone who will listen, that we need to reflect the image of Christ. That we are in this world to make a difference. Blah, blah, blah. But when I have an opportunity to live that - and do one small act of kindness - not only do I not do it, but I mock the person instead! I could have easily helped her; I didn't even have to go out of my way!

Ok, so, read previous post. God doesn't care about who I was, only who I am. I think I'll get into the lotus position and chant that mantra for a couple of hours. Maybe it'll make a difference.

How about you? Ever had one of those brain farts where you actions just don't fit your beliefs?