Showing posts with label Emergent Spirituality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emergent Spirituality. Show all posts
Friday, July 6, 2012
Spiritual Formation Through Serving Others
I am convinced that few of us truly comprehend the enormity and the depth of what Christ accomplished through his sojourn In this world, his mission, death, resurrection, ascension, and divine infilling of everything in the universe. (For more info on this divine infilling, see Ephesians 4:10) . Whenever I speculate on the scope of the mission Christ undertook when he left the spiritual realm and landed in that manger in Bethlehem, I am often overwhelmed. Christ’s mission, when seen in its enormous, multi-faceted wholeness, is much like a prism. When you shine light through a prism you will see different colors, depending upon the perspective you are viewing from. It is the same with the work of Christ, depending on the angle you are looking from, you will see different aspects. In the end, the mission gave rise to what we call the gospel and, just like the mission itself, the gospel is also multi-dimensional.
Referring to the work of Jim Marion, Cynthia Bourgeault concurs that Jesus saw the “Kingdom of Heaven” as a state of consciousness that viewed this unified and universal indwelling of Christ:
It is a whole new way of looking at the world, a transformed awareness that literally turns the world into a different place. Marion suggests specifically that the Kingdom of Heaven is Jesus’ own favorite way of describing a state we would nowadays call a “nondual consciousness” or “unitive consciousness.” The hallmark of this awareness is that it sees no separation – not between God and humans, not between humans and other humans. …….No separation between God and humans. When Jesus talks about this Oneness, he is not speaking in an Eastern sense about an equivalency of being, such that I am in and of myself divine. What he more has in mind is a complete, mutual indwelling. I am in God, God is in you, you are in God, we are in each other. His most beautiful symbol of this is in the teaching in John 15 where he says, “I am the vine, and you are the branches. Abide in me as I in you.”
In these passages in John 15, as well as later in his great prayer in John 17, the Master is stressing the reality of the divine intimacy now made possible through his incarnation, his successful mission in this physical world, his coming ascension and the arrival of the Holy Spirit. Through his accomplishments and through his ongoing presence within everything that exists, Christ is facilitating the restoration of the divine interconnection that existed in the original relationship between the Creator and Creation. This interconnection is brought about by the deepest intimacy possible and this unparalleled intimacy is the natural flow of God’s nature – love. God is love and, created in his holy image, so are we. Bourgeault continues:
There is no separation between humans and God because of this mutual interabiding which expresses the indivisible reality of divine love. We flow into God – and God into us – because it is the nature of love to flow. And as we give ourselves into one another in this fashion, the vine gives life and coherence to the branch while the branch makes visible what the vine is…………The whole and part live together in mutual, loving reciprocity, each belonging to the other and dependent on the other to show forth the fullness of love.
Personally, I find the Master’s use of the metaphor “vine” and “branches” particularly profound as it gives us a clear picture of what our vertical relationship with he and the Father is. Notice I said “is” rather than “is like.” I did this for a reason and perhaps it is the same reason Jesus used metaphor rather than simile. Simile uses words such as “like” or “as” to draw an analogy between two things. For example, it Jesus had used a simile he would have said, ‘I am like the vine, and you are as the branches.” The Master, however, wanted to make his point perfectly clear and part of that clarity was the fact that this divine intimacy transformed the identity of those involved. Metaphor does not use like or as, but instead, says that something is something. “I am the vine; you are the branches.” Our mutually interdependent relationship is not “like” vines and branches, it “is” vines and branches. It is a very subtle distinction but one that makes all the difference.
Taking this theme and the Master’s metaphor, let’s turn now to the horizontal aspect of our relationships – human to human. Again, Christ makes a very subtle distinction. Cynthia Bourgeault explains this quite succinctly:
One of the most familiar of Jesus’ teachings is “Love your neighbor as yourself.” But we almost always hear that wrong. We hear “Love your neighbor as much as yourself.” (And of course, the next logical question then becomes, “But I have to love me first, don’t I, before I can love my neighbor?”) If you listen closely to Jesus’ teaching, however, there is no “as much as” in there. It’s just “Love your neighbor as yourself” – as a continuation of your very own being. It’s a complete seeing that your neighbor is you. There is not two individuals out there, one seeking to better herself at the price of the other, or to extend charity to the other; there are simply two cells of the one great Life. Each of them is equally precious and necessary. And as these two cells flow into one another, experiencing that one Life from the inside, they discover that “laying down one’s life for another” is not a loss of one’s self but a vast expansion of it.
This expansion of our identity and our subsequent actions based on our sense of horizontal intimacy with others reveals two prongs that characterized Jesus’ ministry and mission perhaps more than anything else: wisdom and compassion.
Christ revealed the true nature of God as a being of infinite love – a being of kenosis, who emptied himself into all creation through Christ. Since then, things have never been the same on this planet and they never will. Through the blessings of the Incarnation, blessings far too sublime for us to ever wrap our minds around, Christ revealed the heart of God. When I reflect on these themes, I suddenly and profoundly see John 3:16 in an entirely new light:
For God gave his only begotten son, so that whosoever believes in him should never perish, but have everlasting life.
Our mission is one of continuing incarnation, of becoming the hands, feet, and especially, the heart of Jesus in this hurting world. Nowhere does scripture reveal a more cogent, relevant, and profound truth than in Matthew 25:35-40, where the following exchange between Christ and the disciples is recorded:
“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me drink; I was a stranger, and you invited me in; naked and you clothed me; I was sick, and you visited me; I was in prison, and you came to me Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty, and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and come to see you? And the King will answer and say to them, “Today I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers and sisters of mine, even the least of them, you did it to me.” (NAS)
This world we find ourselves living in is broken in many ways. Some theologians and biblical scholars call our world “fallen,” but I think this misses the mark somewhat. Is this world steeped in what Christians typically call “sin.?” Without a doubt. Is this world populated by a majority that operates on the premise that you should always “look out for Number 1” You bet it is. Is this world a place where trust and openness more often leads to pain than comfort? Just try it and see.
My point here, however, is not to detail how much our world has fallen from God’s standards and ideals. No, my point is just the opposite:
This world, with all its suffering, pain, and injustice, is the ideal place for us to grow spiritually through following Christ’s example of kenotic self-transcendence.
This world, warts and all, provides us with the proper venue to hone our spiritual skills in ways a utopian society never could. Rather than seeking to find ways to accelerate our way back to our pristine spiritual homeland, we are to embrace this world, find out where God is working, and join in, utilizing the spiritual gifts that God has already placed in us. This is the way to become the optimal version of ourselves and, along the way, attain spiritual fulfillment.
If the Church is to reach the growing post-Christian culture in ways that are relevant and effective, several things must be seen with clarity and focus. First, the primary question that must be answered is not, “How can we evangelize these people?” Instead, the relevant question must be, “How can I help you?” It is through this sort of proactive Christian service that the Church’s evangelistic witness can be best fostered.
Secondly, the Church must reconsider how it can best present the truths of the faith in new wineskins that are more appropriate than the 19th Century model that is commonly used, even today. We must re-introduce people to God, to Christ, to the Scriptures, and to the Church and this must be done in ways that are both practical and palatable, given the parameters of the environment in which the Church now lives, moves, and has its being.
(c) L.D. Turner 2011/2012/All Rights Reserved
Saturday, March 14, 2009
The Essence of Spirituality: Radical Compassion
L. Dwight Turner
Jesus Christ was not a man of compassion; he was a man of radical compassion. From his voluntary mission to this broken world, to his mysterious ascension back into the heavenly realm, there was no theme he stressed more in both word and deed. From his opening salvo quoting Isaiah about bringing release to the captives and good news to the poor, to his dying plea of, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,” Jesus exemplified a compassion far beyond what the world had seen before. Indeed, it was and is a radical compassion.
Jesus’ stories about the Prodigal, the Good Samaritan, and his treatment of the woman caught in adultery all point to the need for a compassion that transcends the normal boundaries defined by contemporary culture, then and now. Indeed, it was and is a radical compassion.
Five-hundred years before Jesus, another prophet of radical compassion graced our world. Gautama Buddha was an example of grace and perfect love incarnate. After finding his awakening under the Bodhi tree, the Buddha went about spreading the truth that he had discovered, a truth that when astutely applied to life, could liberate beings from endless rounds of suffering. Just as with Jesus who would come later, Buddha taught through sermons, informal talks, parables, and above all, his actions.
Just as Christ would later set an example for his disciples to follow, the Buddha also would serve as the divine prototype for the essence of “metta,” or “loving-kindness.” In Metta, there is an internal manifestation and an external manifestation. Internally, increasing feelings of loving kindness give rise to a vital sense of compassion that is also based on the realization of the oneness of all things. These internal states of loving kindness and compassion result in the external manifestation, which is proactive service to the world.
This eventually gave rise to the Mahayana Buddhist ideal of the Bodhisattva. On a theoretical level, one can accurately say that the ultimate goal of the Bodhisattva is enlightenment and to some extent this is true. However, on a highly practical level, the Bodhisattva’s highest goal is selfless service. Personal enlightenment takes a back seat to serving others, spiritually and materially. Perhaps no where in the sacred writings of the world is this reality presented so directly as in the 13th Chapter of the Gospel of John.
Radical compassion is compassion with legs; radical compassion is a verb. Just as the Bible tells us in the Letter of James that faith without works is dead, also, compassion without concomitant action is a lifeless phenomenon. Many sincere aspirants have the mistaken notion that the ultimate goal of the spiritual path is enlightenment. Although a sincere desire for motivation is one of our most treasured possessions, it is actually penultimate. The real aim of the spiritual journey is simply this – Sacred Service. All that we do is dedicated to the greatest good of all beings in all the worlds. Our gain is their gain, our loss is their loss, our advancement is their advancement, and it is to this sacred reality that we offer our benedictions at the end of our times of meditation and prayer.
In the Christian faith especially, personal enlightenment takes a back seat to serving others, spiritually and materially. Perhaps no where in the sacred writings of the world is this reality presented so directly as in the 13th Chapter of the Gospel of John.
Imagine for a moment that you are one of Jesus’ twelve disciples and you, your band of rag tag friends, and the Master arrive at the Upper Room after a long, tedious, dusty day going about your business. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and unwind a few moments before you go wash up for the evening meal. You close your eyes for a few minutes, only to feel something or someone taking off your sandals. And to your utter disbelief, kneeling in front of you is the Master Jesus with a basin and a towel. Incredible….
The Master taught his disciples, and all of us who have read of this amazing episode, a clear and concise example of the essence of spirituality: selfless service with a heart of humility. If only more of us, especially those who claim to be followers of Jesus, would take this lesson to heart, our world would have much less pain.
The Kingdom of God is a divine realm of proactive compassion. This is the message that Jesus came to deliver and through his actions as well as his words, he delivered it consistently. In all that he did and he said, Jesus revealed to us the nature of God. This incarnational revelation was hinted at in the Master’s magnificent prayer in John 17. In the 21st verse the Master says:
I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one – as you are in me, Father, and I am in you. And may they be in us so that the world will believe you sent me.
In the Bible’s most well known verse, John 3:16, it is stated that for God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life. (NLT)
Now, to make this even clearer, let’s look at one more verse in John 17. In verse three John records:
And this is the way to have eternal life, to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, the one you sent to earth. (NLT)
Putting all this together, Jesus gave us a powerful but very real theology in this prayer and his disciple, John, fully caught its significance by saying in 3:16 that God loved the world so much that he sent his Son to save it. On God’s part, this was a perfect example of “proactive compassion” or what we often call “grace.” Motivated by the purest form of love, God was moved to have compassion on we fallen creatures, even in our blind ignorance, and he literally gave that compassion flesh by sending us the Master Jesus.
In order for compassion to become more than just a nice idea or a sentimental feeling, it must flow out of the internalized wisdom of the ages, particularly as related to the reality of “interconnectivity.” The idea of interconnectivity, now confirmed by the field of quantum physics, has been around for many centuries and is at the core of interspiritual mysticism, that one aspect of world religion that seems to transcend culture, time, and especially theology. It is a mystical connectedness that promotes compassion and engaged action to make the world a better place for all who dwell here. In essence, it is a deep wisdom that gives flesh to grace. The great spiritual writer Kahil Gibran spoke of this interconnected reality when he said:
Your neighbor is your other self dwelling behind a wall. In understanding, all walls shall fall down. Who knows but that your neighbor is your better self wearing another body? See that you love him as you would yourself. He too is a manifestation of the Most High.
In India, for example, we have the story of Indra’s Net, which is strung throughout the universe with a precious jewel at the places where the cords of the net intersect. These jewels, in turn, reflect all of the other jewels. Similar to the modern discovery of the hologram, the image of Indra’s Net is filled with symbolic wisdom depicting the interconnectivity of all that is. Gary Zukav, in his groundbreaking book entitled, The Dancing Wu Li Masters tell us:
…the philosophical implications of quantum mechanics is that all things in our universe (including us) that appears to exist independently are actually parts of one all-encompassing organic pattern, and that no parts of that pattern are ever really separate from it or from each other.
In the Christian tradition, the writings of the great mystic teachers echo these same truths, often in symbolic and metaphorical ways. Julian of Norwich especially comes to mind as well as Hildegard of Bingen and Madame Guyon. The writings of Saint Theresa of Avila and the life and work of St. Francis also point to the interconnectivity of all life and the necessity of having a heart of radical compassion.
The great Romantic poets like William Wordsworth and Percy B. Shelley have voices that ring loudly with the sense of the interrelated aspects of the natural world and their American counterparts, the Transcendentalists, in the writings of Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman, also echo this theme of divine connectivity. And then there is the work of that master of the arcane, William Blake who spoke of the mystic’s ability:
To see a World in a grain of sand,
And Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
The world that we interact with each day only appears to be solid. In point of fact, it is an intricate dance of sub-atomic waves and particles that obey none of the traditional or expected moves of predictable choreography. At its core level, our apparently solid, material world is less like classical music and more like jazz. Just when we think we have a handle on how things are, these very things change, morphing into something totally unexpected and often totally mysterious. Someone wise, I forget who, once said the life is not a riddle to be solved but a mystery to be lived. How true, and the sooner a person grasps this fundamental truth, the less frustration will appear in his or her life.
It is not my intention to travel too far down this road of quantum physics at this juncture. Suffice to say that contemporary science is increasingly coming to grasp the same fundamental truths that mystics and shamans have voiced for many centuries. Simply put: Everything is interrelated and interdependent and when one part is affected by something, at a very core level, every other part is also impacted.
In teaching about the interrelated aspect of the universe, I often use a simple analogy that explains these principles in a basic way. I use the example of raisin Jell-o. Imagine you have concocted a delicious tub or raisin Jell-o. Choose your favorite flavor if you like. The raisins are the important thing, here. Now, what happens when you take your index finger and thump one of the raisins? All the raisins move. Crude as this metaphor is, it makes the point that all the raisins in the bowl are connected and if one raisin moves, they all move. This is what the mystics, and the quantum physicists, are talking about when they speak of interconnectivity.
As the church moves into the second decade of the 21st Century it has already become apparent that great changes are in the wind. I feel some of these changes are connected with an increased understanding of how God’s magnificent creation is put together in this incredible holographic manner in which each part contains the totality of the whole and every aspect of his world exists in an interdependent relationship with every other part. This is no romantic sentimentalism I am speaking of. Instead, it is a living, vibrant reality that, when one takes it to heart, changes everything. For the church, the message of the gospel become less of “let me show you the way,” and more of “What do you need?”
This move toward proactive compassion is a move of grace. Perhaps you are not accustomed to looking at grace that way, but grace is what we are dealing with. As stated earlier, a major part of Christ’s incarnation and our ongoing mission is to give flesh to grace. Caroline Myss makes this cogent observation in her book, Invisible Acts of Power:
What really happens inside you when you respond to someone in need? Why do some people jump out of their seats to help another person, while others look the other way? No doubt, some people have been taught to be kind and others may be naturally thoughtful. But I think something greater than compassion or good manners is at work, something beyond the motivation of the strong to help the weak or the wealthy to help the poor. I think it is the invisible power of grace, moving between the open hearts of give and receiver. The action itself, the lifting of a heavy piece of luggage or the drink of water offered to the thirsty man, may be small. But the energy that is channeled through that action is the high-voltage current of grace. It contains the power to renew someone’s faith in himself. It even has the power to save a life.
It should not be too difficult of an intellectual jump to see why this concept of interrelated reality should lead to a true and radical sense of compassion. What happens to me in the ultimate sense, happens to you and vice versa. When a child dies of hunger or disease in a poverty stricken nation, some part of each of us dies. We may not feel it, understand it, or even recognize it. Still, it is a fundamental spiritual and quantum truth. It is wise to remember the words of the 17th Century poet John Donne as he spoke of the custom of the time which involved ringing the town’s bell whenever someone died:
Any man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind;
Therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
© L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved
Jesus Christ was not a man of compassion; he was a man of radical compassion. From his voluntary mission to this broken world, to his mysterious ascension back into the heavenly realm, there was no theme he stressed more in both word and deed. From his opening salvo quoting Isaiah about bringing release to the captives and good news to the poor, to his dying plea of, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,” Jesus exemplified a compassion far beyond what the world had seen before. Indeed, it was and is a radical compassion.
Jesus’ stories about the Prodigal, the Good Samaritan, and his treatment of the woman caught in adultery all point to the need for a compassion that transcends the normal boundaries defined by contemporary culture, then and now. Indeed, it was and is a radical compassion.
Five-hundred years before Jesus, another prophet of radical compassion graced our world. Gautama Buddha was an example of grace and perfect love incarnate. After finding his awakening under the Bodhi tree, the Buddha went about spreading the truth that he had discovered, a truth that when astutely applied to life, could liberate beings from endless rounds of suffering. Just as with Jesus who would come later, Buddha taught through sermons, informal talks, parables, and above all, his actions.
Just as Christ would later set an example for his disciples to follow, the Buddha also would serve as the divine prototype for the essence of “metta,” or “loving-kindness.” In Metta, there is an internal manifestation and an external manifestation. Internally, increasing feelings of loving kindness give rise to a vital sense of compassion that is also based on the realization of the oneness of all things. These internal states of loving kindness and compassion result in the external manifestation, which is proactive service to the world.
This eventually gave rise to the Mahayana Buddhist ideal of the Bodhisattva. On a theoretical level, one can accurately say that the ultimate goal of the Bodhisattva is enlightenment and to some extent this is true. However, on a highly practical level, the Bodhisattva’s highest goal is selfless service. Personal enlightenment takes a back seat to serving others, spiritually and materially. Perhaps no where in the sacred writings of the world is this reality presented so directly as in the 13th Chapter of the Gospel of John.
Radical compassion is compassion with legs; radical compassion is a verb. Just as the Bible tells us in the Letter of James that faith without works is dead, also, compassion without concomitant action is a lifeless phenomenon. Many sincere aspirants have the mistaken notion that the ultimate goal of the spiritual path is enlightenment. Although a sincere desire for motivation is one of our most treasured possessions, it is actually penultimate. The real aim of the spiritual journey is simply this – Sacred Service. All that we do is dedicated to the greatest good of all beings in all the worlds. Our gain is their gain, our loss is their loss, our advancement is their advancement, and it is to this sacred reality that we offer our benedictions at the end of our times of meditation and prayer.
In the Christian faith especially, personal enlightenment takes a back seat to serving others, spiritually and materially. Perhaps no where in the sacred writings of the world is this reality presented so directly as in the 13th Chapter of the Gospel of John.
Imagine for a moment that you are one of Jesus’ twelve disciples and you, your band of rag tag friends, and the Master arrive at the Upper Room after a long, tedious, dusty day going about your business. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and unwind a few moments before you go wash up for the evening meal. You close your eyes for a few minutes, only to feel something or someone taking off your sandals. And to your utter disbelief, kneeling in front of you is the Master Jesus with a basin and a towel. Incredible….
The Master taught his disciples, and all of us who have read of this amazing episode, a clear and concise example of the essence of spirituality: selfless service with a heart of humility. If only more of us, especially those who claim to be followers of Jesus, would take this lesson to heart, our world would have much less pain.
The Kingdom of God is a divine realm of proactive compassion. This is the message that Jesus came to deliver and through his actions as well as his words, he delivered it consistently. In all that he did and he said, Jesus revealed to us the nature of God. This incarnational revelation was hinted at in the Master’s magnificent prayer in John 17. In the 21st verse the Master says:
I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one – as you are in me, Father, and I am in you. And may they be in us so that the world will believe you sent me.
In the Bible’s most well known verse, John 3:16, it is stated that for God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life. (NLT)
Now, to make this even clearer, let’s look at one more verse in John 17. In verse three John records:
And this is the way to have eternal life, to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, the one you sent to earth. (NLT)
Putting all this together, Jesus gave us a powerful but very real theology in this prayer and his disciple, John, fully caught its significance by saying in 3:16 that God loved the world so much that he sent his Son to save it. On God’s part, this was a perfect example of “proactive compassion” or what we often call “grace.” Motivated by the purest form of love, God was moved to have compassion on we fallen creatures, even in our blind ignorance, and he literally gave that compassion flesh by sending us the Master Jesus.
In order for compassion to become more than just a nice idea or a sentimental feeling, it must flow out of the internalized wisdom of the ages, particularly as related to the reality of “interconnectivity.” The idea of interconnectivity, now confirmed by the field of quantum physics, has been around for many centuries and is at the core of interspiritual mysticism, that one aspect of world religion that seems to transcend culture, time, and especially theology. It is a mystical connectedness that promotes compassion and engaged action to make the world a better place for all who dwell here. In essence, it is a deep wisdom that gives flesh to grace. The great spiritual writer Kahil Gibran spoke of this interconnected reality when he said:
Your neighbor is your other self dwelling behind a wall. In understanding, all walls shall fall down. Who knows but that your neighbor is your better self wearing another body? See that you love him as you would yourself. He too is a manifestation of the Most High.
In India, for example, we have the story of Indra’s Net, which is strung throughout the universe with a precious jewel at the places where the cords of the net intersect. These jewels, in turn, reflect all of the other jewels. Similar to the modern discovery of the hologram, the image of Indra’s Net is filled with symbolic wisdom depicting the interconnectivity of all that is. Gary Zukav, in his groundbreaking book entitled, The Dancing Wu Li Masters tell us:
…the philosophical implications of quantum mechanics is that all things in our universe (including us) that appears to exist independently are actually parts of one all-encompassing organic pattern, and that no parts of that pattern are ever really separate from it or from each other.
In the Christian tradition, the writings of the great mystic teachers echo these same truths, often in symbolic and metaphorical ways. Julian of Norwich especially comes to mind as well as Hildegard of Bingen and Madame Guyon. The writings of Saint Theresa of Avila and the life and work of St. Francis also point to the interconnectivity of all life and the necessity of having a heart of radical compassion.
The great Romantic poets like William Wordsworth and Percy B. Shelley have voices that ring loudly with the sense of the interrelated aspects of the natural world and their American counterparts, the Transcendentalists, in the writings of Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman, also echo this theme of divine connectivity. And then there is the work of that master of the arcane, William Blake who spoke of the mystic’s ability:
To see a World in a grain of sand,
And Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
The world that we interact with each day only appears to be solid. In point of fact, it is an intricate dance of sub-atomic waves and particles that obey none of the traditional or expected moves of predictable choreography. At its core level, our apparently solid, material world is less like classical music and more like jazz. Just when we think we have a handle on how things are, these very things change, morphing into something totally unexpected and often totally mysterious. Someone wise, I forget who, once said the life is not a riddle to be solved but a mystery to be lived. How true, and the sooner a person grasps this fundamental truth, the less frustration will appear in his or her life.
It is not my intention to travel too far down this road of quantum physics at this juncture. Suffice to say that contemporary science is increasingly coming to grasp the same fundamental truths that mystics and shamans have voiced for many centuries. Simply put: Everything is interrelated and interdependent and when one part is affected by something, at a very core level, every other part is also impacted.
In teaching about the interrelated aspect of the universe, I often use a simple analogy that explains these principles in a basic way. I use the example of raisin Jell-o. Imagine you have concocted a delicious tub or raisin Jell-o. Choose your favorite flavor if you like. The raisins are the important thing, here. Now, what happens when you take your index finger and thump one of the raisins? All the raisins move. Crude as this metaphor is, it makes the point that all the raisins in the bowl are connected and if one raisin moves, they all move. This is what the mystics, and the quantum physicists, are talking about when they speak of interconnectivity.
As the church moves into the second decade of the 21st Century it has already become apparent that great changes are in the wind. I feel some of these changes are connected with an increased understanding of how God’s magnificent creation is put together in this incredible holographic manner in which each part contains the totality of the whole and every aspect of his world exists in an interdependent relationship with every other part. This is no romantic sentimentalism I am speaking of. Instead, it is a living, vibrant reality that, when one takes it to heart, changes everything. For the church, the message of the gospel become less of “let me show you the way,” and more of “What do you need?”
This move toward proactive compassion is a move of grace. Perhaps you are not accustomed to looking at grace that way, but grace is what we are dealing with. As stated earlier, a major part of Christ’s incarnation and our ongoing mission is to give flesh to grace. Caroline Myss makes this cogent observation in her book, Invisible Acts of Power:
What really happens inside you when you respond to someone in need? Why do some people jump out of their seats to help another person, while others look the other way? No doubt, some people have been taught to be kind and others may be naturally thoughtful. But I think something greater than compassion or good manners is at work, something beyond the motivation of the strong to help the weak or the wealthy to help the poor. I think it is the invisible power of grace, moving between the open hearts of give and receiver. The action itself, the lifting of a heavy piece of luggage or the drink of water offered to the thirsty man, may be small. But the energy that is channeled through that action is the high-voltage current of grace. It contains the power to renew someone’s faith in himself. It even has the power to save a life.
It should not be too difficult of an intellectual jump to see why this concept of interrelated reality should lead to a true and radical sense of compassion. What happens to me in the ultimate sense, happens to you and vice versa. When a child dies of hunger or disease in a poverty stricken nation, some part of each of us dies. We may not feel it, understand it, or even recognize it. Still, it is a fundamental spiritual and quantum truth. It is wise to remember the words of the 17th Century poet John Donne as he spoke of the custom of the time which involved ringing the town’s bell whenever someone died:
Any man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind;
Therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
© L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved
Monday, October 20, 2008
Pilgrimage: A Four-Dimensional Model
L. Dwight Turner
On several occasions I have mentioned the need for effective models in which one can gain a deeper understanding of the Christian faith in general and the sometimes complex aspects of the spiritual journey with Christ in particular. In my experience, having a framework through which we can view the process of growing as a Christ-follower makes things clearer and gives me a broader perspective on why certain things are essential and why others things are not.
I recently discovered one such model and I would like to share a bit about it with you. Basically, it is a “Four- Dimensional Model” of the Jesus path to spirituality and is directly modeled on the life of Christ. This model is found in Ken Wilson’s fine book, Jesus Brand Spirituality: He Wants His Religion Back. Great title, isn’t it?
The map put forth by Wilson is designed to assist individuals and churches move more toward the center, the heart of Jesus’ spiritual path, rather than existing on the periphery. It is divided into four dimensions as follows: active, contemplative, biblical, and communal. In discussing the general principles of the four dimensional approach to “Jesus Brand Spirituality,” Wilson makes clear that these four aspects are interdependent and do not stand alone. He compares them to the four dimensions in the space-time continuum, length, width, height, and time. Again, the author underscores the fact that these four dimensions are interconnected:
We separate them to examine them, but as soon as we’re done, they reconnect. We must resist the temptation to force-fit these into a preordered path: ‘First we take the active step, then the contemplative step,’ and so on. It doesn’t work like that. Depending on where we find ourselves on this pilgrimage, we may be drawn to one dimension or the other first or next. But as we move forward into one dimension of Jesus brand spirituality, our understanding of all the others will be affected because they are four dimensions of one reality.
Wilson is wise to put this caveat out there right at the beginning. From our own experience here at LifeBrook, we have found that it is very common for believers to try to fit new ideas into a pre-ordered program, somewhat like a ladder leading upward one step at a time. In our program The Mirrors of Optimal Living we especially witness this tendency. In our teaching, we always stress that this process is not like climbing a ladder. It is more like a spiral staircase, frequently winding back upon itself. When teaching these issues, I often use the analogy of a bowl of Raisin Jell-o. If you thump one single raisin, all the raisins move.
It is the same with Wilson’s four-dimensional model of Jesus brand spirituality.
Wilson goes on to make the point that these dimensions emerge naturally from studying Jesus’ life and teaching as presented in the New Testament. This was essentially the spiritual path Jesus himself followed.
Stated simply, the active dimension of Jesus’ spirituality occurred because there was a lot going on in First Century Palestine. Jesus and his followers were constantly on the move from one place to another, encountering people, teaching, and engaging in various forms of service such as healing, assisting the poor, and, in the words of Wilson, “mobilizing a movement with an agenda.” For Jesus, all of these ministry activities were a part of his overall spirituality. Throughout his entire mission, teaching was essential. However, the methodology used by Jesus was also action-oriented. According to Wilson:
His training method? Jesus invited curious onlookers to help him do what he was already doing so that his actions would have even greater impact. As we’ll see, his actions were about addressing the pressing problems of his day.
The contemplative dimension of Jesus’ spirituality was also readily apparent to those who were near him over the long haul. Further, this dimension is recorded in the gospels so consistently that it is hard to understand those fundamentalist critics of contemplative practice. Even more directly, Wilson accurately points out that Jesus brand spirituality is, at its core, mystical.
Jesus’ spirituality was also contemplative, because everyone feels there’s more to this world than meets the eye. The world is a mystical playground where, according to the quantum physicists, the most elemental particles – things called quarks and muons and gluons and bosons – pop into and out of existence all the time. No, I don’t understand it, either. But the world is, according to those who can do the math, not as it seems.
For Jesus, this unseen world was very real and he took great pains to make contact with it on a regular basis. I guess it is understandable that he did so. After all, this realm was his home. Even more important, Jesus took what he found when contacting the spiritual realm and brought it to bear on his environment in this world. Wilson continues:
Jesus got up early in the morning and went out to lonely places, and there he prayed (Mark 1:35). When he came back from those times of prayer, you get the impression he must have been making some kind of conscious contact with the divine, because life seemed to blossom wherever he went.
According to Wilson, Jesus brand spirituality is also biblical. After discussing how these days the Bible is often used in either highly selective ways (in order to prove one’s point) or in negative ways (in order to brow beat a lowly sinner into shame and guilt). For Jesus, however, the Bible became something entirely different. Wilson points out that:
…in the hands of Jesus the Bible became a different kind of book. It became a living thing full of the unexpected and the unconventional. It was a book Jesus turned against the browbeaters of his day with one hand, and with the other he comforted and consoled and energized those who had been bludgeoned with it…The Bible in the hands of Jesus tells a story that has a place for us within it. If we could find our way into the Bible through the door that Jesus entered, we might find the storyline of our lives and the world we live in changing for the better as a result.
Finally, for Jesus, the essence of true spirituality was communal. Wilson points out that for Jesus spirituality was about forging connections between people, between people and all living things, and, because God is a living thing, also between people and God.
Wilson has put together an excellent book and I would highly recommend it to the casual reader and the serious student of spiritual formation as well. It is a highly insightful, well-organized work that forces the reader to think outside the box and in so doing, encounter a spirituality that is often a far cry from what we often see in our churches.
© L.D. Turner/All Rights Reserved
On several occasions I have mentioned the need for effective models in which one can gain a deeper understanding of the Christian faith in general and the sometimes complex aspects of the spiritual journey with Christ in particular. In my experience, having a framework through which we can view the process of growing as a Christ-follower makes things clearer and gives me a broader perspective on why certain things are essential and why others things are not.
I recently discovered one such model and I would like to share a bit about it with you. Basically, it is a “Four- Dimensional Model” of the Jesus path to spirituality and is directly modeled on the life of Christ. This model is found in Ken Wilson’s fine book, Jesus Brand Spirituality: He Wants His Religion Back. Great title, isn’t it?
The map put forth by Wilson is designed to assist individuals and churches move more toward the center, the heart of Jesus’ spiritual path, rather than existing on the periphery. It is divided into four dimensions as follows: active, contemplative, biblical, and communal. In discussing the general principles of the four dimensional approach to “Jesus Brand Spirituality,” Wilson makes clear that these four aspects are interdependent and do not stand alone. He compares them to the four dimensions in the space-time continuum, length, width, height, and time. Again, the author underscores the fact that these four dimensions are interconnected:
We separate them to examine them, but as soon as we’re done, they reconnect. We must resist the temptation to force-fit these into a preordered path: ‘First we take the active step, then the contemplative step,’ and so on. It doesn’t work like that. Depending on where we find ourselves on this pilgrimage, we may be drawn to one dimension or the other first or next. But as we move forward into one dimension of Jesus brand spirituality, our understanding of all the others will be affected because they are four dimensions of one reality.
Wilson is wise to put this caveat out there right at the beginning. From our own experience here at LifeBrook, we have found that it is very common for believers to try to fit new ideas into a pre-ordered program, somewhat like a ladder leading upward one step at a time. In our program The Mirrors of Optimal Living we especially witness this tendency. In our teaching, we always stress that this process is not like climbing a ladder. It is more like a spiral staircase, frequently winding back upon itself. When teaching these issues, I often use the analogy of a bowl of Raisin Jell-o. If you thump one single raisin, all the raisins move.
It is the same with Wilson’s four-dimensional model of Jesus brand spirituality.
Wilson goes on to make the point that these dimensions emerge naturally from studying Jesus’ life and teaching as presented in the New Testament. This was essentially the spiritual path Jesus himself followed.
Stated simply, the active dimension of Jesus’ spirituality occurred because there was a lot going on in First Century Palestine. Jesus and his followers were constantly on the move from one place to another, encountering people, teaching, and engaging in various forms of service such as healing, assisting the poor, and, in the words of Wilson, “mobilizing a movement with an agenda.” For Jesus, all of these ministry activities were a part of his overall spirituality. Throughout his entire mission, teaching was essential. However, the methodology used by Jesus was also action-oriented. According to Wilson:
His training method? Jesus invited curious onlookers to help him do what he was already doing so that his actions would have even greater impact. As we’ll see, his actions were about addressing the pressing problems of his day.
The contemplative dimension of Jesus’ spirituality was also readily apparent to those who were near him over the long haul. Further, this dimension is recorded in the gospels so consistently that it is hard to understand those fundamentalist critics of contemplative practice. Even more directly, Wilson accurately points out that Jesus brand spirituality is, at its core, mystical.
Jesus’ spirituality was also contemplative, because everyone feels there’s more to this world than meets the eye. The world is a mystical playground where, according to the quantum physicists, the most elemental particles – things called quarks and muons and gluons and bosons – pop into and out of existence all the time. No, I don’t understand it, either. But the world is, according to those who can do the math, not as it seems.
For Jesus, this unseen world was very real and he took great pains to make contact with it on a regular basis. I guess it is understandable that he did so. After all, this realm was his home. Even more important, Jesus took what he found when contacting the spiritual realm and brought it to bear on his environment in this world. Wilson continues:
Jesus got up early in the morning and went out to lonely places, and there he prayed (Mark 1:35). When he came back from those times of prayer, you get the impression he must have been making some kind of conscious contact with the divine, because life seemed to blossom wherever he went.
According to Wilson, Jesus brand spirituality is also biblical. After discussing how these days the Bible is often used in either highly selective ways (in order to prove one’s point) or in negative ways (in order to brow beat a lowly sinner into shame and guilt). For Jesus, however, the Bible became something entirely different. Wilson points out that:
…in the hands of Jesus the Bible became a different kind of book. It became a living thing full of the unexpected and the unconventional. It was a book Jesus turned against the browbeaters of his day with one hand, and with the other he comforted and consoled and energized those who had been bludgeoned with it…The Bible in the hands of Jesus tells a story that has a place for us within it. If we could find our way into the Bible through the door that Jesus entered, we might find the storyline of our lives and the world we live in changing for the better as a result.
Finally, for Jesus, the essence of true spirituality was communal. Wilson points out that for Jesus spirituality was about forging connections between people, between people and all living things, and, because God is a living thing, also between people and God.
Wilson has put together an excellent book and I would highly recommend it to the casual reader and the serious student of spiritual formation as well. It is a highly insightful, well-organized work that forces the reader to think outside the box and in so doing, encounter a spirituality that is often a far cry from what we often see in our churches.
© L.D. Turner/All Rights Reserved
Monday, October 13, 2008
Themes In Faith Formation: Align and Abide
L.Dwight Turner
If a person is discerning enough to see beneath the sea of “Sunday smiles” and outward displays of spiritual satisfaction, it would quickly become apparent that many Christians seem to be living, in the words of Thoreau, lives of "quiet desperation.” It is as if many sincere believers are staggering about under a dark cloud of disappointment and, deep in their inner core, asking themselves, “Is this all there is?” Although Jesus came to give abundant life, depression, anxiety, fear, and a host of other negative emotional states ride on the backs of sincere Christians and, to make matters worse, most have no clue as to why.
Even the most superficial scan of scripture will reveal that this is not the way things were intended to be. We are, in fact, promised to "have life more abundantly". So what is the basic issue here? Why are so many within the Body of Christ so beset?
The basic issue here seems to be one of misalignment. Let me explain this in brief. Scripture reveals that we are composed of three aspects, Body, Psyche, and Spirit. Space does not permit a detailed description of this tripartite makeup of our being, but a few words of explanation or in order.
1. Our body is the home of our being while here on earth. God created us primarily as spirit beings, but in order to dwell in the physical world, we need a physical home, thus our physical bodies.
2. Things become a bit more complicated when discussing our mind. The biblical term most often used to describe this aspect of our being is “soul” and the Greek word is “psuche.” It is obvious that our English term “psyche” is derived from this word. Our psyche includes our cognitive life (thoughts), our emotions, our will and our habituated responses to life (our habits). Since the Fall, our Spirit has been inactive and our soul or psyche has been in charge. This was not what God intended and the results of this usurpation of power have been dismal.
3. Our Spirit is the key to living a life in accordance with God’s will and plan. As mentioned, our human spirit became inactive at the Fall, and was dethroned by our psyche. Yet, God intended for our human spirit to be the vehicle whereby the Holy Spirit could communicate with each of us. It is interesting to note that the Greek word for the human “spirit” is “pneuma” and is the same word as the one used in Holy “Spirit.” Obviously, God intended a strong connection between our spirits and the Holy Spirit. Further, it was our human spirit that God intended to be used when we communicated with the spiritual world.
Once our spirit is reactivated through conversion, we are supposed to live a life where the Spirit is in the pilot's seat so to speak, directing the thoughts and actions of the mind and body. But here is the rub. Just because we become Christians, the mind doesn't just go away. The old mind remains strong and active. Here perhaps a better word is psyche. The psyche is composed of our thoughts, feelings, temperament, and affections.
It is important to understand that the psyche has a life of its own and, more importantly, it has its own agenda. All of our life, the psyche has been in charge. The psyche has called the shots and it isn't about to give up this role without a fight. So the fact of the matter is that as soon as we enter the Christian walk, a battle is set up inside between the psyche and the spirit. This battle is basically between our old self and our new self or, as Paul puts it, between our flesh and our spirit.
As Christians, we are called to walk in the Spirit. What does this mean? It means the Spirit is supposed to take precedent in our lives. The Spirit is the presence of God within us. This is our new command center. But, as stated earlier, there is an internal war in progress and the fact is, our enemy in this sense is our psyche. It is our psyche that has to be put under control of the spirit. This process is never easy and we can never accomplish it on our own. But we are not left alone to fight this battle. God has promised to empower us to emerge victorious. He has said in Ezekiel that He will remove our heart of stone and give us a heart of flesh; a new and living heart, controlled and directed by the Holy Spirit.
The problem is most Christians lose this battle on a daily basis because they have not been taught, or if they have been taught, they have resisted, the methodology of how to procure the necessary tools to fight the enemy and ultimately gain victory over their old self.
The solution to this problem is complicated on some levels perhaps, but basically it is quite simple. We have to undergo a realignment whereby our bodies, psyche, and spirit become a functioning whole with a unified purpose. This new alignment is under the direction of the Spirit. As we go through the process of this alignment, we are also told by Christ that we are to abide. "Abide in me.." he tells us. So we can say that what we are called to do is to align and abide. The problem is that most Christians never learn how to do this. There are many reasons for this but space does not allow for a discussion of that here. At its core, this problem I think has resulted from the ongoing faith/works controversy and has placed much of the church in a position of being dis-empowered and paralyzed spiritually. What the church must now do is to rediscover how to align and abide. I say rediscover because the methodology for this process has been around since the beginning of the church.
One other note here. Any discussion of alignment should include the fact that this process has an inner dimension and an outer dimension. Actually, there is no real distinction in essence, but to define it in these terms seems more comprehensive. The inner dimension involves achieving an alignment as follows:
Spirit
Psyche
Body
The outer dimension involves the alignment spoken of by Christ in the Gospel of John when he prays that we are in Him as he is in the Father. So the outer dimension looks like this:
God
Christ
Human
Looked at from this perspective, the inner dimension reflects the reality that the mind, when controlled by the Spirit in proper alignment, is the mediator between the Spirit and the body and thus, the mediator between the Spirit and our actions in the world. That is why we have to "renew our minds" or, again in the words of Paul, "have the mind of Christ". Only by doing so can we then effectively incarnate the Spirit through us and into the world. The outer dimension reflects the reality of the Gospel in its essence. It is only through Christ that we can connect with the Father and this awareness sheds light on Jesus' statement that he who has seen me has seen the Father. It is also scripturally sound in that it reflects the words of Paul that alludes to the fact that there is one mediator between God and man, and that is Jesus Christ.
How then are we supposed to bring the needed realignment about? The process is quite simple to understand, but sometimes difficult to apply. What we have to do is:
1. Trust God to do what He says he will do. We have to trust in and rely on the Holy Spirit.
2. We have to look to Christ as our model of how to walk in faith.
3. We have to rediscover the value and the power of "Spiritual Disciplines"
4. We have to directly confront and, with the help of the Spirit, deal with the psyche in all its subtle ramifications and retrain it to be subordinate to and in line with the directions of the Spirit. This is accomplished by following the Spirits lead as it "convicts of sin.” Many times what we call "sin" is a direct result of "misalignment". I think it can also be said that our problem with misalignment began with the Fall, when the original couple tried to “be as god” and wound up putting the soul (psyche) on the throne where Spirit should rule. That is where all behavior that we call sin comes from.
5. At LifeBrook, we often stress what we call “conscious cognition” as a vital part in abiding. Basically, this refers to the process of renewing the mind in general and dealing with our thought life in particular. Conscious Cognition involves directly dealing with our thoughts, taking thoughts captive for Christ, tearing down strongholds, and learning to think in more positive, optimistic, and constructive ways.
6. Perhaps the most significant aspect of establishing a life that is aligned with God and continues to abide in His will is obedience. More than anything else, obedience allows us to abide in God’s will more continuously and to manifest that will in proactive ways.
A misalignment where the psyche is dominant and the Spirit negated, even if it accomplishes much, can accomplish nothing that does not, at least at a subtle level, bear the taint of selfishness. Secondly, in order to accomplish this we must "renew our minds" and I can think of no better way to do this than by actively sowing the seed of the Word of God into our hearts. Remember, “As a man thinks in his heart, so is he.”
The sequence is important: first we align, and then we abide. Abiding is nothing more or less than maintaining our connection with the life giving Spirit of Christ. We align by initiating a practice of spiritual disciplines that have been used for centuries in the church; practices such as prayer in its various forms, meditation (sacred silence and listening to God), study of and reflection upon Scripture, submission, service, and any other practice that is biblical, places Christ at the center, and seeks to discern God’s will and carry it out.
Again, proper alignment is central to every aspect of the Christian life. Without proper alignment we are more prone to walking in our own illusions and making mistakes, sometimes big and sometimes small. And what is it we are to align with? The answer is a simple one. We are to align with the Spirit of God that has been placed within us by the loving hand of the Father. At conversion our human spirit again became what it was in Genesis, alive. The Hebrew word for this is chay and the Greek is Zoe. New Testament writers almost always used this word, zoe, to describe life.
As we are able align and abide, our zoe, our very life, becomes more vital and spirit-filled. More importantly, with proper alignment it is spirit-controlled. We then abide and, in the words of Paul, walk in the Spirit.
(c) L.D. Turner 2008/ All Rights Reserved
If a person is discerning enough to see beneath the sea of “Sunday smiles” and outward displays of spiritual satisfaction, it would quickly become apparent that many Christians seem to be living, in the words of Thoreau, lives of "quiet desperation.” It is as if many sincere believers are staggering about under a dark cloud of disappointment and, deep in their inner core, asking themselves, “Is this all there is?” Although Jesus came to give abundant life, depression, anxiety, fear, and a host of other negative emotional states ride on the backs of sincere Christians and, to make matters worse, most have no clue as to why.
Even the most superficial scan of scripture will reveal that this is not the way things were intended to be. We are, in fact, promised to "have life more abundantly". So what is the basic issue here? Why are so many within the Body of Christ so beset?
The basic issue here seems to be one of misalignment. Let me explain this in brief. Scripture reveals that we are composed of three aspects, Body, Psyche, and Spirit. Space does not permit a detailed description of this tripartite makeup of our being, but a few words of explanation or in order.
1. Our body is the home of our being while here on earth. God created us primarily as spirit beings, but in order to dwell in the physical world, we need a physical home, thus our physical bodies.
2. Things become a bit more complicated when discussing our mind. The biblical term most often used to describe this aspect of our being is “soul” and the Greek word is “psuche.” It is obvious that our English term “psyche” is derived from this word. Our psyche includes our cognitive life (thoughts), our emotions, our will and our habituated responses to life (our habits). Since the Fall, our Spirit has been inactive and our soul or psyche has been in charge. This was not what God intended and the results of this usurpation of power have been dismal.
3. Our Spirit is the key to living a life in accordance with God’s will and plan. As mentioned, our human spirit became inactive at the Fall, and was dethroned by our psyche. Yet, God intended for our human spirit to be the vehicle whereby the Holy Spirit could communicate with each of us. It is interesting to note that the Greek word for the human “spirit” is “pneuma” and is the same word as the one used in Holy “Spirit.” Obviously, God intended a strong connection between our spirits and the Holy Spirit. Further, it was our human spirit that God intended to be used when we communicated with the spiritual world.
Once our spirit is reactivated through conversion, we are supposed to live a life where the Spirit is in the pilot's seat so to speak, directing the thoughts and actions of the mind and body. But here is the rub. Just because we become Christians, the mind doesn't just go away. The old mind remains strong and active. Here perhaps a better word is psyche. The psyche is composed of our thoughts, feelings, temperament, and affections.
It is important to understand that the psyche has a life of its own and, more importantly, it has its own agenda. All of our life, the psyche has been in charge. The psyche has called the shots and it isn't about to give up this role without a fight. So the fact of the matter is that as soon as we enter the Christian walk, a battle is set up inside between the psyche and the spirit. This battle is basically between our old self and our new self or, as Paul puts it, between our flesh and our spirit.
As Christians, we are called to walk in the Spirit. What does this mean? It means the Spirit is supposed to take precedent in our lives. The Spirit is the presence of God within us. This is our new command center. But, as stated earlier, there is an internal war in progress and the fact is, our enemy in this sense is our psyche. It is our psyche that has to be put under control of the spirit. This process is never easy and we can never accomplish it on our own. But we are not left alone to fight this battle. God has promised to empower us to emerge victorious. He has said in Ezekiel that He will remove our heart of stone and give us a heart of flesh; a new and living heart, controlled and directed by the Holy Spirit.
The problem is most Christians lose this battle on a daily basis because they have not been taught, or if they have been taught, they have resisted, the methodology of how to procure the necessary tools to fight the enemy and ultimately gain victory over their old self.
The solution to this problem is complicated on some levels perhaps, but basically it is quite simple. We have to undergo a realignment whereby our bodies, psyche, and spirit become a functioning whole with a unified purpose. This new alignment is under the direction of the Spirit. As we go through the process of this alignment, we are also told by Christ that we are to abide. "Abide in me.." he tells us. So we can say that what we are called to do is to align and abide. The problem is that most Christians never learn how to do this. There are many reasons for this but space does not allow for a discussion of that here. At its core, this problem I think has resulted from the ongoing faith/works controversy and has placed much of the church in a position of being dis-empowered and paralyzed spiritually. What the church must now do is to rediscover how to align and abide. I say rediscover because the methodology for this process has been around since the beginning of the church.
One other note here. Any discussion of alignment should include the fact that this process has an inner dimension and an outer dimension. Actually, there is no real distinction in essence, but to define it in these terms seems more comprehensive. The inner dimension involves achieving an alignment as follows:
Spirit
Psyche
Body
The outer dimension involves the alignment spoken of by Christ in the Gospel of John when he prays that we are in Him as he is in the Father. So the outer dimension looks like this:
God
Christ
Human
Looked at from this perspective, the inner dimension reflects the reality that the mind, when controlled by the Spirit in proper alignment, is the mediator between the Spirit and the body and thus, the mediator between the Spirit and our actions in the world. That is why we have to "renew our minds" or, again in the words of Paul, "have the mind of Christ". Only by doing so can we then effectively incarnate the Spirit through us and into the world. The outer dimension reflects the reality of the Gospel in its essence. It is only through Christ that we can connect with the Father and this awareness sheds light on Jesus' statement that he who has seen me has seen the Father. It is also scripturally sound in that it reflects the words of Paul that alludes to the fact that there is one mediator between God and man, and that is Jesus Christ.
How then are we supposed to bring the needed realignment about? The process is quite simple to understand, but sometimes difficult to apply. What we have to do is:
1. Trust God to do what He says he will do. We have to trust in and rely on the Holy Spirit.
2. We have to look to Christ as our model of how to walk in faith.
3. We have to rediscover the value and the power of "Spiritual Disciplines"
4. We have to directly confront and, with the help of the Spirit, deal with the psyche in all its subtle ramifications and retrain it to be subordinate to and in line with the directions of the Spirit. This is accomplished by following the Spirits lead as it "convicts of sin.” Many times what we call "sin" is a direct result of "misalignment". I think it can also be said that our problem with misalignment began with the Fall, when the original couple tried to “be as god” and wound up putting the soul (psyche) on the throne where Spirit should rule. That is where all behavior that we call sin comes from.
5. At LifeBrook, we often stress what we call “conscious cognition” as a vital part in abiding. Basically, this refers to the process of renewing the mind in general and dealing with our thought life in particular. Conscious Cognition involves directly dealing with our thoughts, taking thoughts captive for Christ, tearing down strongholds, and learning to think in more positive, optimistic, and constructive ways.
6. Perhaps the most significant aspect of establishing a life that is aligned with God and continues to abide in His will is obedience. More than anything else, obedience allows us to abide in God’s will more continuously and to manifest that will in proactive ways.
A misalignment where the psyche is dominant and the Spirit negated, even if it accomplishes much, can accomplish nothing that does not, at least at a subtle level, bear the taint of selfishness. Secondly, in order to accomplish this we must "renew our minds" and I can think of no better way to do this than by actively sowing the seed of the Word of God into our hearts. Remember, “As a man thinks in his heart, so is he.”
The sequence is important: first we align, and then we abide. Abiding is nothing more or less than maintaining our connection with the life giving Spirit of Christ. We align by initiating a practice of spiritual disciplines that have been used for centuries in the church; practices such as prayer in its various forms, meditation (sacred silence and listening to God), study of and reflection upon Scripture, submission, service, and any other practice that is biblical, places Christ at the center, and seeks to discern God’s will and carry it out.
Again, proper alignment is central to every aspect of the Christian life. Without proper alignment we are more prone to walking in our own illusions and making mistakes, sometimes big and sometimes small. And what is it we are to align with? The answer is a simple one. We are to align with the Spirit of God that has been placed within us by the loving hand of the Father. At conversion our human spirit again became what it was in Genesis, alive. The Hebrew word for this is chay and the Greek is Zoe. New Testament writers almost always used this word, zoe, to describe life.
As we are able align and abide, our zoe, our very life, becomes more vital and spirit-filled. More importantly, with proper alignment it is spirit-controlled. We then abide and, in the words of Paul, walk in the Spirit.
(c) L.D. Turner 2008/ All Rights Reserved
Friday, September 26, 2008
Are You Open For Business?
Mick Turner
Our culture, it seems, is on some kind of spiritual quest. As I cruise about the Internet these days I often encounter articles, web sites, and discussion groups throwing about the term “spirituality.” With increasing frequency I also find sincere seekers, including professed Christians, attempting to define what true spirituality is. Some of the definitions are profound while others are more arcane than the tax code.
For Christians, the definition of true spirituality should not be a mystery. The meaning of the word, given to us by Jesus with alarming clarity, may not be the answer we are looking for. The definition of spirituality provided by the Lord had nothing to do with esoteric philosophical speculations, nor did it encompass the need for expanded knowledge of a multi-dimensional universe. On the contrary, Jesus told us what real spirituality was in a very direct and precise manner. He didn’t explain it to us; he showed us.
Jesus gave a new definition of what true spirituality consisted of when, as described in the 13th Chapter of John’s Gospel, he shocked his disciples by performing the lowly act of cleansing their dirty, dusty, and most likely, fetid feet. In this act, Jesus then said that he had provided an example. In his words:
I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you… (John 13:14)
As Christ-followers, we are called to no less. We are called to the ministry of the towel. For the Christian, that is the meaning of spirituality. We are to be of service. Everything else, no matter how profound, is superstructure.
At its most fundamental level, proactive service, motivated by love and compassion, is what incarnational Christianity is all about. No matter what setting in which we find a need to be addressed, we are to obey and go. No matter how filthy, grimy, or smelly, we are to take up our towel and basin and hit the ground running. This is our calling and this is our duty. This is what Christ did and we are to do no less.
Even as sincere believers with a genuine desire to manifest active Christian love to our hurting world, we often complicate this issue of service to an extreme. “What is my true mission?” we often ask ourselves. “Is helping with this situation something I am gifted to do?” Other times we vacillate by comparing ourselves to others. “Are there other people far more skilled than I to help with this?” Moses tried this approach and God didn’t buy it. Although there is nothing wrong with assessing our talents and gifts, we need to realize in any situation, there is some type of service we can provide. There is at least some need we can meet. Just about anyone can fold chairs, clean a kitchen, drive a van, or deliver food.
At the end of the day, this issue of Christian service boils down to one word: availability.
We must each look into our hearts and, with the help of the Holy Spirit, ask ourselves: Am I available to be used by God? We need to be rigorously honest with ourselves in answering this all-important question. If we answer in the negative, then we need to explore the reasons why we feel we cannot currently follow Christ’s call to service. If we answer in the affirmative, then we need to find a place to serve, a way to serve, and get on with it. It is of vital importance that we keep in mind that we are Christ’s representatives here in this broken world. We are his hands, his feet, and his heart. And, we are his agents no matter where we are. Gary Thomas explains how this has come to work in his life:
Once I begin surrendering my body to be transformed, I become a living and breathing center of possibility. I become a force that God can use to impact the world. This truth teaches me to see my life as a call to represent Christ wherever I go, whether it is at a high school basketball game, a family get-together, the dreaded Department of Motor Vehicles office, a local Starbucks, or my own home. Regardless of my location, I can live with a sense of offering myself up to God so that he can encourage his children and reach out to the lost.
Individual Christians are not alone in over-thinking the issue of service. Entire congregations can do the same thing. Instead of diving in and providing immediate relief or help to those in need, churches often choose to conduct exhaustive investigations and hold endless committee meetings, trying to design a program that will address a community need. Again, research and planning are essential, but not at the expense of allowing people to suffer while we weigh our options. Jerry Cook, in his informative book The Monday Morning Church, strikes at the heart of the issue:
I am convinced that as Christians we are not about programs. We’re not about bigger or better blessings. We’re about responding to people who call for help because their world is falling apart. These individuals aren’t looking to be converted – they’re looking for help! Being their help – by being the presence of Christ in their lives – is the only thing we’re about. Everything else we do is secondary and can even detour us from carrying out the true purpose of the church…You are filled with the Spirit of God. You are living in this window in time called the last days. You are where you are because God has strategically placed you there. The question is, are you open for business?
Cook makes a poignant statement here and asks the pivotal question, a question that each of us must answer with truth and honesty: Am I open for business?
Each of us must find somewhere to begin his or her own unique mission, in whatever setting God has placed us. So, again, where do we begin? Why not start where Christ himself began? As he picked up the Holy Scriptures in the synagogue at Nazareth he spoke clearly and without reservation, echoing his Father’s words from the 61st chapter of Isaiah. Christ said he had left his comfort zone in the spiritual realm and incarnated on this fallen planet in order:
To bind up the broken hearted
To proclaim liberty to the captives
To comfort all who mourn
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.
Surely, these words pertain to someone or some situation you are aware of. Are you aware of anyone who is broken hearted or held captive by some form of addiction or behavior? Do you know someone who is in dire need of comfort at this time? Is there anyone in your family, your church or your neighborhood who is in need of a little beauty and joy in life; maybe someone who needs help with depression or some other type of spiritual heaviness?
As stated earlier, the first salient question is not so much “How shall I go about doing good?” No, the question is, “Are you open for business?”
Are you ready to become someone God can use? Are you ready to become, in the words of Gary Thomas, a living and breathing center of possibility?
Our culture, it seems, is on some kind of spiritual quest. As I cruise about the Internet these days I often encounter articles, web sites, and discussion groups throwing about the term “spirituality.” With increasing frequency I also find sincere seekers, including professed Christians, attempting to define what true spirituality is. Some of the definitions are profound while others are more arcane than the tax code.
For Christians, the definition of true spirituality should not be a mystery. The meaning of the word, given to us by Jesus with alarming clarity, may not be the answer we are looking for. The definition of spirituality provided by the Lord had nothing to do with esoteric philosophical speculations, nor did it encompass the need for expanded knowledge of a multi-dimensional universe. On the contrary, Jesus told us what real spirituality was in a very direct and precise manner. He didn’t explain it to us; he showed us.
Jesus gave a new definition of what true spirituality consisted of when, as described in the 13th Chapter of John’s Gospel, he shocked his disciples by performing the lowly act of cleansing their dirty, dusty, and most likely, fetid feet. In this act, Jesus then said that he had provided an example. In his words:
I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you… (John 13:14)
As Christ-followers, we are called to no less. We are called to the ministry of the towel. For the Christian, that is the meaning of spirituality. We are to be of service. Everything else, no matter how profound, is superstructure.
At its most fundamental level, proactive service, motivated by love and compassion, is what incarnational Christianity is all about. No matter what setting in which we find a need to be addressed, we are to obey and go. No matter how filthy, grimy, or smelly, we are to take up our towel and basin and hit the ground running. This is our calling and this is our duty. This is what Christ did and we are to do no less.
Even as sincere believers with a genuine desire to manifest active Christian love to our hurting world, we often complicate this issue of service to an extreme. “What is my true mission?” we often ask ourselves. “Is helping with this situation something I am gifted to do?” Other times we vacillate by comparing ourselves to others. “Are there other people far more skilled than I to help with this?” Moses tried this approach and God didn’t buy it. Although there is nothing wrong with assessing our talents and gifts, we need to realize in any situation, there is some type of service we can provide. There is at least some need we can meet. Just about anyone can fold chairs, clean a kitchen, drive a van, or deliver food.
At the end of the day, this issue of Christian service boils down to one word: availability.
We must each look into our hearts and, with the help of the Holy Spirit, ask ourselves: Am I available to be used by God? We need to be rigorously honest with ourselves in answering this all-important question. If we answer in the negative, then we need to explore the reasons why we feel we cannot currently follow Christ’s call to service. If we answer in the affirmative, then we need to find a place to serve, a way to serve, and get on with it. It is of vital importance that we keep in mind that we are Christ’s representatives here in this broken world. We are his hands, his feet, and his heart. And, we are his agents no matter where we are. Gary Thomas explains how this has come to work in his life:
Once I begin surrendering my body to be transformed, I become a living and breathing center of possibility. I become a force that God can use to impact the world. This truth teaches me to see my life as a call to represent Christ wherever I go, whether it is at a high school basketball game, a family get-together, the dreaded Department of Motor Vehicles office, a local Starbucks, or my own home. Regardless of my location, I can live with a sense of offering myself up to God so that he can encourage his children and reach out to the lost.
Individual Christians are not alone in over-thinking the issue of service. Entire congregations can do the same thing. Instead of diving in and providing immediate relief or help to those in need, churches often choose to conduct exhaustive investigations and hold endless committee meetings, trying to design a program that will address a community need. Again, research and planning are essential, but not at the expense of allowing people to suffer while we weigh our options. Jerry Cook, in his informative book The Monday Morning Church, strikes at the heart of the issue:
I am convinced that as Christians we are not about programs. We’re not about bigger or better blessings. We’re about responding to people who call for help because their world is falling apart. These individuals aren’t looking to be converted – they’re looking for help! Being their help – by being the presence of Christ in their lives – is the only thing we’re about. Everything else we do is secondary and can even detour us from carrying out the true purpose of the church…You are filled with the Spirit of God. You are living in this window in time called the last days. You are where you are because God has strategically placed you there. The question is, are you open for business?
Cook makes a poignant statement here and asks the pivotal question, a question that each of us must answer with truth and honesty: Am I open for business?
Each of us must find somewhere to begin his or her own unique mission, in whatever setting God has placed us. So, again, where do we begin? Why not start where Christ himself began? As he picked up the Holy Scriptures in the synagogue at Nazareth he spoke clearly and without reservation, echoing his Father’s words from the 61st chapter of Isaiah. Christ said he had left his comfort zone in the spiritual realm and incarnated on this fallen planet in order:
To bind up the broken hearted
To proclaim liberty to the captives
To comfort all who mourn
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.
Surely, these words pertain to someone or some situation you are aware of. Are you aware of anyone who is broken hearted or held captive by some form of addiction or behavior? Do you know someone who is in dire need of comfort at this time? Is there anyone in your family, your church or your neighborhood who is in need of a little beauty and joy in life; maybe someone who needs help with depression or some other type of spiritual heaviness?
As stated earlier, the first salient question is not so much “How shall I go about doing good?” No, the question is, “Are you open for business?”
Are you ready to become someone God can use? Are you ready to become, in the words of Gary Thomas, a living and breathing center of possibility?
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Fragrance of God
Mick Turner
This morning when I woke up and shook the fog out of my head, I became aware that I was thinking back on an experience I had undergone many years ago. Perhaps I had dreamed about it or it could be that the Sacred Spirit was bringing it to my attention for some reason. As I go through my day I need to be aware of this, in case the Spirit is indeed trying to communicate something to me. I have found that, at least in my case, God often gets messages past my thick mind by speaking to me in this indirect but unmistakable manner.
Sometimes I wish I could hear from God a little more easily. I find myself from time to time wishing that I could just walk out in my back yard first thing in the morning and find God waiting there to talk to me out of a burning bush. I would even settle for a braying donkey. It doesn’t matter so much how he did it, just that it was a little less troublesome and inconsistent.
My old friend Jesse often tells me that God speaks to all of us all of the time, but we rarely have ears to hear. He claims that many people’s dependence upon thing like Bible reading, sermon-listening, and book study have blinded us, or perhaps I should say deafened us, to the crystal clear voice of God. For Jesse, God speaks through three primary media, nature, the inner light and other seekers. It could very well be that Jesse is right when he says we have become so dependent upon the ways we have been instructed to hear God’s voice that we can’t discern his speaking when it comes in other ways.
Jesse reminds me of my grandfather when he talks like this. I have mentioned my grandfather before on this blog. A southern, rural man to the core, my grandfather was devoutly attuned to the rhythms of the natural world. As a child I often marveled at his knowledge, wisdom, and uncanny ability to see things that others couldn’t see. A Quaker and a mystic by birth, from the time he was a teenager my grandfather was a consternation to his parents because of his stubborn resistance to going to First Day Meeting as the Society of Friends called it. “Church” is basically what it was to others. This resistance did not go away once my grandfather reached his adult years and now, rather than to my great-grandparents, his absence became a consternation to his wife, my grandmother.
The reason I mention all of this is that it was often through my grandfather that I learned that God did indeed speak through venues other than the church, the preacher, the Bible, and, in his day, radio-evangelists. I carry to this day one distinct memory of my grandfather’s approach to religion that was for me an epiphany of sorts. I was 12-years-old and our family was visiting my grandparents during the Easter season. Little did I know at the time that this would be a Palm Sunday I would never forget.
As usual, my grandfather had resisted the family’s repeated entreaties that he join them for the Sunday morning meeting at the “Meeting House.” Even more to my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to stay home with him and “help him take care of a few things.” You can’t imagine my delight at this turn of events. I responded that I would love to stay home and help him and that pretty much settled the matter.
After putting out some extra feed for his two mules, my grandfather took me for a walk in the woods adjacent to his farm. Eventually we came to a clearing, a meadow actually, that was dotted with patches of wild flowers. From our vantage point, the meadow seemed to extend forever and the patches of flowers were like explosions of color in a sea of green. As was often the case, we walked and talked about all kinds of things. I had something I wanted to ask him about and finally got around to it, although I was somewhat apprehensive about asking him.
“PaPa,” I began. “Why is it you never go to church with the family? I have only seen you go a couple of times. Do you hate church?”
“No, son….I don’t hate church. In fact, I like it,” he replied, chuckling under his breath. “I just like to spend my Sabbath day being with God.”
I recall being mystified by his answer and, after scratching my head for a minute or two, go around to asking the logical question a 12-year-old boy might ask.
“But church is where God is,” I said. “If you want to be with God, why don’t you go to church? It doesn’t make sense, PaPa.”
“God isn’t in church much these days, son. At least I haven’t seen him there in awhile,” responded PaPa. “At church preachers preach (they were Evangelical Quakers), singers sing, prayers pray, and gossipers gossip. That doesn’t leave much time for God to say anything.”
I remember he paused for quite awhile to let his words sink into my still young mind.
“I figure if I need to be with God, to talk to him and listen to him, I need to come out here where it is quiet,” he continued. “God didn’t build that church, but he sure as hell made these woods and this meadow. I figure if I want to talk to God I need to go where he lives.”
“I think I understand, PaPa,” I recall saying. “But isn’t religion important? My Mom says my religion is the most important part of life and that when I grow up, I can’t live without it.”
After a long silence, my grandfather looked me squarely in the eyes and told me in no uncertain terms what he thought about my question.
“Just keep in mind a few things and it will make your spiritual life easier and less troublesome,” he said. “First, understand that religion doesn’t have anything to do with God, and vice versa.” My grandfather had to explain what vice versa meant. I was only 12.
“Religion is an invention, just like the wheel and the telephone,” PaPa continued. “Spirituality is sometimes a part of religion but most of the time it isn’t. Unlike religion, spirituality is not an invention. It is something as much a part of being human as breathing, sleeping, and sex. All of those things are built into us from the start. So is spirituality. Our job is so make our lives spiritual every day. Religion is supposed to help with that, but most of the time it prevents spirituality, it doesn’t create it.”
I guess my grandfather was one of the early people to be dealing with the religion vs. spirituality conflict. These days the familiar adage about being spiritual but not religious is so commonplace it has lost much of its real impact. I should not be surprised, however, at my grandfather’s words. As I mentioned, he was a Quaker and a mystic throughout his life. In fact, he knew the Quaker mystic Rufus Jones quite well and often told stories about Jones. I never had the opportunity to meet Rufus Jones, although I would have loved to. Jones died in 1948 I think, which was a year before my birth.
As for me, I was thoroughly confused by this time. I struggled to understand what my PaPa had said, especially the business about spirituality and religion. I asked grandfather if he could tell me again about the difference between the two. Here is where the epiphany came in and also where Rufus Jones fits into this story.
“Come over here,” said PaPa as he got up and walked toward one of the flower explosions in the meadow. “Now, pay close attention and I think you will get the picture.”
Grandfather kneeled down and picked an absolutely beautiful bright purple flower. As I knelt beside him, he said, “I want to teach you something Rufus Jones taught me many years ago. This is probably the most beautiful flower in this whole meadow. Imagine this is the church. Sometimes churches can be really beautiful places, inside and out. And the folks inside can be beautiful, too.”
I listened carefully and appreciated the flower, but wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
“Now, hold the flower to your nose and take a good whiff. Smell it deeply.”
Taking a deep breath I held the flower to my nose and smelled of it. Oddly, there was no fragrance, either good or bad.
“There is no smell, PaPa,” I reported.
“Isn’t it strange that a flower so attractive can have no fragrance?” said PaPa. “Churches can be like that as well. Our family goes to a church a lot like that.”
He then picked another flower, not unattractive by any means, but far less striking than the first. He held it to my nose.
“It is wonderful, PaPa,” I said after drinking deeply of the fragrance of this rather ordinary looking flower. “What is it, PaPa?”
“Spirituality,” he said in a serene voice filled with certainty.
© L.D. Turner 2008/All Rights Reserved
This morning when I woke up and shook the fog out of my head, I became aware that I was thinking back on an experience I had undergone many years ago. Perhaps I had dreamed about it or it could be that the Sacred Spirit was bringing it to my attention for some reason. As I go through my day I need to be aware of this, in case the Spirit is indeed trying to communicate something to me. I have found that, at least in my case, God often gets messages past my thick mind by speaking to me in this indirect but unmistakable manner.
Sometimes I wish I could hear from God a little more easily. I find myself from time to time wishing that I could just walk out in my back yard first thing in the morning and find God waiting there to talk to me out of a burning bush. I would even settle for a braying donkey. It doesn’t matter so much how he did it, just that it was a little less troublesome and inconsistent.
My old friend Jesse often tells me that God speaks to all of us all of the time, but we rarely have ears to hear. He claims that many people’s dependence upon thing like Bible reading, sermon-listening, and book study have blinded us, or perhaps I should say deafened us, to the crystal clear voice of God. For Jesse, God speaks through three primary media, nature, the inner light and other seekers. It could very well be that Jesse is right when he says we have become so dependent upon the ways we have been instructed to hear God’s voice that we can’t discern his speaking when it comes in other ways.
Jesse reminds me of my grandfather when he talks like this. I have mentioned my grandfather before on this blog. A southern, rural man to the core, my grandfather was devoutly attuned to the rhythms of the natural world. As a child I often marveled at his knowledge, wisdom, and uncanny ability to see things that others couldn’t see. A Quaker and a mystic by birth, from the time he was a teenager my grandfather was a consternation to his parents because of his stubborn resistance to going to First Day Meeting as the Society of Friends called it. “Church” is basically what it was to others. This resistance did not go away once my grandfather reached his adult years and now, rather than to my great-grandparents, his absence became a consternation to his wife, my grandmother.
The reason I mention all of this is that it was often through my grandfather that I learned that God did indeed speak through venues other than the church, the preacher, the Bible, and, in his day, radio-evangelists. I carry to this day one distinct memory of my grandfather’s approach to religion that was for me an epiphany of sorts. I was 12-years-old and our family was visiting my grandparents during the Easter season. Little did I know at the time that this would be a Palm Sunday I would never forget.
As usual, my grandfather had resisted the family’s repeated entreaties that he join them for the Sunday morning meeting at the “Meeting House.” Even more to my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to stay home with him and “help him take care of a few things.” You can’t imagine my delight at this turn of events. I responded that I would love to stay home and help him and that pretty much settled the matter.
After putting out some extra feed for his two mules, my grandfather took me for a walk in the woods adjacent to his farm. Eventually we came to a clearing, a meadow actually, that was dotted with patches of wild flowers. From our vantage point, the meadow seemed to extend forever and the patches of flowers were like explosions of color in a sea of green. As was often the case, we walked and talked about all kinds of things. I had something I wanted to ask him about and finally got around to it, although I was somewhat apprehensive about asking him.
“PaPa,” I began. “Why is it you never go to church with the family? I have only seen you go a couple of times. Do you hate church?”
“No, son….I don’t hate church. In fact, I like it,” he replied, chuckling under his breath. “I just like to spend my Sabbath day being with God.”
I recall being mystified by his answer and, after scratching my head for a minute or two, go around to asking the logical question a 12-year-old boy might ask.
“But church is where God is,” I said. “If you want to be with God, why don’t you go to church? It doesn’t make sense, PaPa.”
“God isn’t in church much these days, son. At least I haven’t seen him there in awhile,” responded PaPa. “At church preachers preach (they were Evangelical Quakers), singers sing, prayers pray, and gossipers gossip. That doesn’t leave much time for God to say anything.”
I remember he paused for quite awhile to let his words sink into my still young mind.
“I figure if I need to be with God, to talk to him and listen to him, I need to come out here where it is quiet,” he continued. “God didn’t build that church, but he sure as hell made these woods and this meadow. I figure if I want to talk to God I need to go where he lives.”
“I think I understand, PaPa,” I recall saying. “But isn’t religion important? My Mom says my religion is the most important part of life and that when I grow up, I can’t live without it.”
After a long silence, my grandfather looked me squarely in the eyes and told me in no uncertain terms what he thought about my question.
“Just keep in mind a few things and it will make your spiritual life easier and less troublesome,” he said. “First, understand that religion doesn’t have anything to do with God, and vice versa.” My grandfather had to explain what vice versa meant. I was only 12.
“Religion is an invention, just like the wheel and the telephone,” PaPa continued. “Spirituality is sometimes a part of religion but most of the time it isn’t. Unlike religion, spirituality is not an invention. It is something as much a part of being human as breathing, sleeping, and sex. All of those things are built into us from the start. So is spirituality. Our job is so make our lives spiritual every day. Religion is supposed to help with that, but most of the time it prevents spirituality, it doesn’t create it.”
I guess my grandfather was one of the early people to be dealing with the religion vs. spirituality conflict. These days the familiar adage about being spiritual but not religious is so commonplace it has lost much of its real impact. I should not be surprised, however, at my grandfather’s words. As I mentioned, he was a Quaker and a mystic throughout his life. In fact, he knew the Quaker mystic Rufus Jones quite well and often told stories about Jones. I never had the opportunity to meet Rufus Jones, although I would have loved to. Jones died in 1948 I think, which was a year before my birth.
As for me, I was thoroughly confused by this time. I struggled to understand what my PaPa had said, especially the business about spirituality and religion. I asked grandfather if he could tell me again about the difference between the two. Here is where the epiphany came in and also where Rufus Jones fits into this story.
“Come over here,” said PaPa as he got up and walked toward one of the flower explosions in the meadow. “Now, pay close attention and I think you will get the picture.”
Grandfather kneeled down and picked an absolutely beautiful bright purple flower. As I knelt beside him, he said, “I want to teach you something Rufus Jones taught me many years ago. This is probably the most beautiful flower in this whole meadow. Imagine this is the church. Sometimes churches can be really beautiful places, inside and out. And the folks inside can be beautiful, too.”
I listened carefully and appreciated the flower, but wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
“Now, hold the flower to your nose and take a good whiff. Smell it deeply.”
Taking a deep breath I held the flower to my nose and smelled of it. Oddly, there was no fragrance, either good or bad.
“There is no smell, PaPa,” I reported.
“Isn’t it strange that a flower so attractive can have no fragrance?” said PaPa. “Churches can be like that as well. Our family goes to a church a lot like that.”
He then picked another flower, not unattractive by any means, but far less striking than the first. He held it to my nose.
“It is wonderful, PaPa,” I said after drinking deeply of the fragrance of this rather ordinary looking flower. “What is it, PaPa?”
“Spirituality,” he said in a serene voice filled with certainty.
© L.D. Turner 2008/All Rights Reserved
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