PENTECOST: ECSTATIC UTTERANCES IN A UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE

Today is Pentecost.  Pentecost is more meaningful to me than either Christmas or Easter.  To me, the meaning of the Pentecost story universalizes the experience of the divine world intersecting with the material world.  In the story, at a gathering of people from different cultures, religions, and linguistic backgrounds, Spirit intervenes and allows them all to understand one another.  What a wonderful metaphor! The flames of fire appearing above the heads of the people in the gathering burned the sense of division out of them so they could truly listen to one another.

Can an atheist listen and respect a theist?  Can a theist do the same?  Can a Christian fundamentalist respect a member of the Christian “left” and vice versa?  Can a Democrat and Republican truly listen to one another?

The Pentecost story is one that reminds us that it’s possible to dive beneath differences among us and recognize our shared humanity/divinity.  Here’s wishing one and all a flaming Pentecost!

EARTH DAY 2016: BREAKING THE GREAT CHAIN OF BEING (starting with anthropocentrism)

(For the last few years, I’ve published most of the blog below on Earth Day.  I’m newly inspired after seeing “The Jungle Book” a few days ago.  It touched me and  it was lots of fun!  So I’m posting it again.)

The problem with “Earth Day” is similar to that of Mother’s Day or Valentine’s Day. The day comes and goes and often our attention does the same.  Earth consciousness is critically important every day, so creating a special day has its risks.

Nevertheless, setting apart a special day can potentially serve as a reminder to look around and cherish our island home.  Whenever I think about honoring mother earth, I’m immediately reminded of how anthropocentrism interferes.  The view that humans are the most important part of nature is a major source of its degradation.

Anthropocentrism – a most toxic form of hubris – always makes me wonder about its source.  Where did we get the idea that we are so damn important?!!  Sometimes it appears that we think we’re Gods!  This observation leads me to explore the intersection between biblical stories and earth consciousness.

Biblical stories contain great wisdom, but as they percolated up through time and various cultures, they accumulated some interpretations and additions that were not earth-friendly. The influence of the Greeks was marked by a kind of dualism between spirit and matter that is still evident today.  Spirit was seen as somehow better than matter thus creating a hierarchy of goodness.  Rather than seeing that God is in matter, the view came to be that God was somehow separate from matter.  Descartes reified this mind/body split even further by claiming that the body was like a machine and the mind, or soul, was immaterial and not governed by the laws of physics.

Dualism underlies the loss of our focus on the natural world as being of God and puts God into some other realm that is seen as better.  The shift of our gaze to the immaterial results in our missing God’s presence right under our collective nose!   Thinking of God as only in “heaven” causes a de-sacralizing of nature at least, and a form of violence against it at worst. Dualism persists today in the consciousness of modern people.

I’m not horrified by dualism in and of itself.  It’s the medieval notion of the Great Chain of Being that I believe is to blame for many evils in our world.  The central concept of the chain of being is that everything imaginable fits into it somewhere, giving order and meaning to the universe.  First comes God at the top; then angels; then men, women, mammals, birds, fish, plants, and finally minerals. Descartes believed that only humans had minds, and there was a time when it was arguable whether or not women had souls! The hierarchical nature of how the cosmos was to be regarded mimicked the hierarchical nature of dominant cultures of the time, and even today.  This belief in a God-given hierarchy would certainly serve an imperialist Christianity, support the domination of women, and cause thoughtless and short-sighted use of natural resources (non-human animals, trees, water, etc.). 

The Great Chain of Being is not so great.  The Great Net of Being makes more sense to me.

Easter Message from Obi-Wan Kenobi: “The Force will be with you, always.”

Several years ago during Easter dinner, a young friend asked, “What’s up with Easter?”  This particular Easter celebration was a secular one and my friend was unschooled in religious stories and symbols.  I think her curiosity was sincere and that she hoped for some insight about the Easter message. 

How would you answer that question?  If you’re not into Biblical crucifixion and resurrection stories, maybe you’d say it’s about eating a special dinner with family and friends.  It might be about enjoying Easter egg hunts and candy.  Maybe you’d mention that Easter is about celebrating spring, bunnies, and chicks – symbols of fertility and rebirth.  Perhaps you have no interest in the question so you’d shrug it off and take a bite of Easter ham or a vegan quiche.

So what did I say?  I surprised myself by proclaiming, “You can’t kill God.”  I’ve thought about my response off and on ever since then.   What exactly did I mean?  I’m taking the occasion of this Easter, several years later, to speculate.

I believe that the empty tomb symbolizes the impossibility of killing God.  We may think God is dead – perhaps brutally tortured and murdered as in the Biblical accounts – but death is an illusion.  As the story goes, the execution was a failure because there was no body in the tomb that Easter morning.

Historically, governments have tried to kill God by outlawing religion.  They have failed.  Atheists have tried to kill God by insisting that rationalism and science are the only avenues to truth.  They have failed.  God keeps popping back up no matter what.

Who or what is this “God” that I’m claiming won’t die?  Is it like “The Force” in George Lucas’ Star Wars, a binding, organized, and ubiquitous power that surrounds and penetrates us?  

 

Is it like the Tao described in Chapter 4 of Lao-tzu’s Tao Te Ching?

                The Tao is like a well:

                Used but never used up.

                It is like the eternal void:

                Filled with infinite possibilities.

                It is hidden but always present. (Translation by Stephen Mitchell.)

Is it God (“The Force,” The Tao) that fuels compassion, love, hope, courage, creativity, justice, beauty, truth, kindness, wisdom, and reason?  I chose to believe it is.  No matter what we call the source of these things, I believe it is always present.  It may be hidden by depression, cruelty, indifference, and ignorance, but it never dies.  Its green shoots sprout up in the most desolate of landscapes, both cultural and personal.  Easter is a joyful reminder to wake up to the experience of God’s presence, even if you believe that God is dead.

I have chosen to believe in God who is bigger than life and death – a God that is beyond all polarities and yet contains them.  God cannot die.  Lao-tzu tells us that the Tao is “used but never used up.”  “The Force will be with you, always,” says Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

So, I say again, “You can’t kill God.”  That’s what’s up with Easter.

CAN THERE BE EASTER WITHOUT GOOD FRIDAY?

A wise Rabbi (thanks Zari Weiss) once asked: “Can you reach the promised land without slavery?  Can there be Easter without Good Friday?”  Can there?

“The impossibility of religious faith has been a theme in the work of Edward Hirsch over the years; yet in the presence of doubt, in the experience of yearning, in encountering a small yield of sweetness, he finds something perhaps equivalent, or faith enough. “Green Figs” seems appropriate reading for Good Friday as well as the first seder of Passover tonight.”

(From Knopf Poetry <knopfpoetry@information.randomhouse.com.)

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Green Figs I want to live like that little fig tree     that sprouted up at the beach last spring         and spread its leaves over the sandy rock.All summer its stubborn green fruit     (tiny flowers covered with a soft skin)         ripened and grew in the bright salt spray.The Tree of the Knowledge of Good     and Evil was a fig tree, or so it is said,         but this wild figure was a wanton stray.I need to live like that crooked tree—     solitary, bittersweet, and utterly free—         that knelt down in the hardest windsbut could not be blasted away.     It kept its eye on the far horizon         and brought honey out of the rock. (Excerpt from THE LIVING FIRE: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS © 2010 by Edward Hirsch.)

I’M GIVING UP GUILT FOR LENT

Lent is the season of penitence and many people sacrifice something as a nod toward their notion of holiness – something they might feel guilty about.  I’ve been guilty of scrupulosity, so as a Lenten discipline I’m trying to abstain.  What – you may ask – is scrupulosity?  The word comes from the Latin scrupulum, sharp stone – like a stabbing pain on the conscience.   It means ruminating about sins and it’s often a feature of obsessive-compulsive disorder.  For many it has a decidedly religious flavor, but for me scrupulosity is mostly a dysfunctional and annoying psychological habit.  Giving it up has been easier than I thought it would be. 

In my wild and callow youth, I was totally selfish.  I broke all 10 commandments and committed all of the seven deadlies (wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony) many times over – and that’s just for starters.  However, for many years now I’ve been intentionally steering toward the Light.  I started by leaning into it, then walking, occasionally striding – even running – but mostly just trying to remain quietly mindful of the magnetic force of Goodness. 

Of course I’m still flawed, so I’m not going to ignore my unkind thoughts and behaviors. I’m just going to avoid feeding them to the smouldering fire of guilt.  I will stop festishizing my shadow.  I’ve spent too much time being mesmerized by it and have been overly attached to it.  Enough already!

So in this penitential season, I am trying to gently hush that nagging voice of shame, doubt, and guilt.  I’m tuning in to the loving voice of compassion and nurturance.  It’s been there all along but was drowned out by the endless chorus of self-recriminations.  This pure and harmonious sound is creating space so that the sweet scent of Spirit can drift in.  So far, so good…

ASH WEDNESDAY AND THE THIRD EYE

On Ash Wednesday many of us will have ashes put on our forehead, on our “third eye,” if you will.  Why do we engage in this pagan-like behavior?  (Yes, this ceremony, like others practiced by many Christians, has pagan roots.)  Why do we present our foreheads for this “imposition of ashes?”

Of course, I can only speak for myself about my reasons.  Each individual participating in this ritual has his or her own take on it.  At one level of understanding, I present my forehead to be marked with ashes as a reminder that our embodiment is limited.  We come from dust and to dust we shall return.  Remembering that each moment of our our finite lives is precious and to be lived mindfully is a wonderful thing.  That’s enough of a reason right there to participate in this religious ritual! 

But wait!  There’s more!  That’s not the whole story – at least not the way I think about it.  At another level of understanding, marking the third eye represents the importance of opening up to a higher wisdom than what is typically experienced through the senses and reason.  Even though embodied, we can still catch glimpses of glory, glimpses of a larger and more beautiful realm than what our usual experience allows.  The cross – an intersection – is drawn on our 3rd eye chakra.  It’s a visceral and visual reminder of that mysterious area – that “thin place” – between life and death, between the secular and the sacred, between any two things that are seen as opposites.  This symbolic gesture can help us  realize that what may seem to be contrary forces are interconnected and interdependent, like in nature.  If we can think this way, we might see that opposites can only exist in relation to each other.  Yin and Yang.  This transcendence gives rise to new ways of seeing and being.

Many wisdom and mystical traditions recognize the importance of the third eye – including Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, Taoism, and mystical Christianity.  For example, when I practice qigong meditation, my teacher has us spend some third eye training time, but without the ashes.  My understanding of the ashes comes from a widespread belief that fire is something that purifies and also regenerates, and since ashes are the residue of fire, they have the same properties.  Purification and regeneration are certainly major themes in Lent – more on that in a blog to come.

So, in summary, I invite the imposition of ashes in order to cherish embodiment, and to remember the importance of transcending dualities. Franciscan friar, Richard Rohr tells us that this transcendence”…happens whenever, by some wondrous “coincidence,” our heart space, our mind space, and our body awareness are all simultaneously open and nonresistant. I like to call it presence. It is experienced as a moment of deep inner connection, and it always pulls you, intensely satisfied, into the naked and undefended now, which can involve both profound joy and profound sadness at the very same time.”

CASTRATING THE EGO

As we approach the new year, it’s time to purge.  I find it’s a good time to take stock and empty myself in preparation for the unknowns to come. You may have heard the story of the zen master who tells the student who is full of knowledge and opinions to empty his cup so he can learn something.  Here’s what Hafiz has to say about this: 

 A GIGANTIC EGO by Hafiz (translated by Daniel Landinsky)

The only problem with not castrating
A gigantic ego is

That it will surely become amorous
And father
A hundred screaming ideas and kids

Who will then all quickly grow up
And skillfully proceed

To run up every imaginable debt
And complication of which your brain
Can conceive.

This would concern normal parents
And any seekers of freedom
And the local merchants nearby
As well.

They could very easily become forced
To disturb your peace;

All those worries and bills could turn to
Wailing ghosts.

The only problem with not lassoing
A runaway ego is

You won’t have much time to sing
In this sweet world.

Angelus Silesius, a seventeenth-century Catholic poet put it this way:

God, whose love and joy  are present everywhere, Can’t come and visit you  unless you aren’t there. (translated by Frederick Franck) HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!

Christopher Hitchens: R.I.P.?

If you haven’t yet heard, Christopher Hitchens died at the young age of 62.  He’s the guy who wrote God is Not Great and was a celebrated essayist railing against religion and for rationalism.  He really knew how to piss people off and clearly thought outside the box, although his understanding of world religions was amazingly shallow and narrow.  Nevertheless, he gained many followers.

As a brilliant writer, he cleverly argued against blind allegiance to any orthodoxy and ended up creating just another orthodoxy, or at least that’s how it seems to me.  His followers became “Hitchenites” and touted “Hitchenism” to anyone who would listen.  They claimed their superiority over those who had interest in realities greater than what the senses can detect.  Rationalism and science received their blind allegiance (dare I say “worship?”).  Many could not or would not acknowledge other frontiers of knowledge and referred to those who went beyond these “Gods” as “superstitious.”

I don’t think he would want to “rest in peace.”  He deliberately didn’t live in peace.  I would like to think that he would have evolved beyond the cognitive structures he so carefully built.  After all, he was one who liked to rattle cages. I think it’s possible that, had he lived, he may have gotten tired of hearing his followers spout what became fairly predictable “Hitchenisms.” I’d like to think that he would have come up with some new way to amuse himself and sell his material – some new ways to rattle cages. 

I don’t care about his belief or non-belief in “God” (whatever that meant to him).  I admired his willingness to challenge the status quo.  I would like to have seen what might have come from his challenging his own orthodoxy, and I think he would have done that eventually.  I’m sorry he died.  Rebellis interruptus…

MUSINGS OF A MALL SANTA

Behind the big window I sit

in the North Pole set,

sweating in red and white,

scratching the skin behind my long white beard.

The elves herd long lines of harried parents

     hoping to create flashbulb memories 

     clutching the small hands of apprentice consumers

     providing kindling for the fires of want.

As the thin high voices chanting their desires

fade into the background,

I drift into wondering.

             How can I transform my own raging river of wants

             into a quiet pool of prayer?

First, I let go,

remembering I’m not in charge.

            Worry is gently nudged

            to make room for the petals of consciousness

                        to receive the cool rain

                        to be warmed by the sun

                        to create a crucible for transforming moths into butterflies.

I’m called back to the North Pole

by a child sitting on my knee.

She looks in my eyes and asks

“What do you want for Christmas, Santa?”

 

                                                                                    Nancy Jago Finley

                                                                                    1999

‘TIS THE SEASON…

’tis the season to be quiet.  It’s advent.  It’s dark and still.  That is, it’s dark and still except for all the holiday lights and non-stop Christmas music, the mad pace of consumerism, the stress of high expectations. 

For those of us who like to observe the advent season as a contemplative time of waiting and watching for signs of hope and light, we create filters to screen out the noise as best we can.  The screeching demands