* to encourage a reasoned awareness of how our beliefs impact the way we interact with the world around us
* to foster intelligent and open dialogue
* to inspire a sense of spirituality that has real meaning in day-to-day life
Showing posts with label John 13. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John 13. Show all posts

Monday, April 27, 2015

John 13: Loving One Another

The foot washing scene moves immediately to several chapters of theological monologue. In some respects, these passages express a sort of theological framework for the community of the authors. In other respects, these passages seem to be intended as encouragement to people who are being persecuted. The obvious intention is for the reader to identify with the disciples in the story, as a recipient of the promises, directives, and encouragement of the Jesus character. We will continue to explore these writings from the perspective that the Jesus character is intended as an exemplar with whom the reader could identity. The concluding paragraphs of John 13 include some plot devices that make this a little more challenging, however, so we'll see what use we can make of it.

First, Jesus finishes washing the feet of his disciples and proclaims that someone among them will betray him. He seems disturbed by this, according to the text, and he and Simon Peter engage in a little subterfuge, working out a secret sign to reveal the betrayer. Of course, the readers already know the tale, but this singles Peter out as someone special -- someone in the inner circle. We've already explored how the metaphor of Satan entering Judas represents him being driven his own fearful thoughts and beliefs. It's odd that Peter doesn't stand up and accuse Judas, given the implication of the secret message exchange with Jesus, but for whatever reason, he doesn't let the cat out of the bag to the other disciples.

This is probably just as well, since by the end of the chapter, Jesus will make the unsettling prediction that Peter will also soon betray their friendship. It's important to remember that the gospels that made it into the Bible are stories with a narrative structure, and stories need some elements to keep the plot moving forward. Probably, we could comment that every relationship will have moments in which one party throws the other under the bus, valuing personal pride or apparent safety over loyalty or devotion. People are complicated, so relationships are bound to be complicated. It's what the authors have Jesus say in between the announcement of Judas' betrayal and the forecasting of Peter's betrayal that actually provides a meaningful framework for complicated relationships.

Here, the authors put forth a "new commandment": Love one another. There are obviously old commandments. Most simply, we could view the "ten commandments" as the old covenant that the Israelites perceived as their responsibility to uphold. There are a lot of other laws and commandments in Hebrew Scripture that are proclaimed as divinely authoritative, but some of these laws are clearly peculiar to an ancient culture. By contrast, the "thou shalt nots" of the ten commandments are generally moral and ethical admonitions that most people can agree with. Don't kill people. Don't steal things. Don't commit adultery. Don't lie. We quickly invent exceptions, of course, but we generally agree with the ethical premises.

The exceptions are where we get into trouble, though. Many times, we make exceptions to moral and ethical principles because we are afraid of something. "I'm afraid I'll get into big trouble, so I'll just tell a little lie." "We're afraid that our loved ones aren't safe, so it's alright if we kill someone else's loved ones to prevent them from hurting us." "I'm afraid that I'm not lovable, so I'll indulge in someone else's affection, even though I know it's wrong to betray the trust of my partner." Our exceptions, whether we realize it or not, are steeped in fear about ourselves or other people, and when we come up with enough exceptions, the ethical principles have little value.

Even when people consider their ethical principles to be commandments from God, they orchestrate clever arrays of exceptions. Then, they orchestrate convoluted processes by which their exceptions can be excused. People wind up with complicated patterns of exoneration behavior (going to church, doing some kind of social work, praying for forgiveness, etc.) in order to make up for equally complicated integrity gaps. "I hold this ethical principle, except in the following 219 special circumstances."

Many believers are even sketchy with regard to the old commandments to honor God and keep the sabbath holy. They define God as a supernatural who agrees with their perspective. They define keeping the sabbath holy as going to church, or watching it on television, or at least praying for their team before they sit down in the bleachers at the stadium. And these principles were already squishy two thousand years ago. This is not really a commentary on current society. The Jewish religious leaders had to invent a convoluted set of laws to put boundaries on just how far one could reasonably go to skirt the ethical principles.

Some will say that the old commandments are still in place, and this is true to the extent that we all agree on many of the ethical principles. To put a Humanist spin on the whole array: We are better off honoring our own authentic selves than trying to live up to some externally defined standard of success or worthiness. We are better off when we set aside time for rest and introspection. We are better off when we are impeccable with our word. We are better off when we consider the loving advice of our elders, even when we wind up disagreeing with that advice and heading in a different direction. We are better off when we are committed to finding non-violent solutions. We are better off when we are honest, when we honor the trust of our relationships, when we recognize our own abundance. We are better off when we manage our own anxiety about not measuring up and we relax into living with integrity and intention. And we are better off when we let other people express their own authentic selves without believing that we need to convince them, compete with them, correct them, or condemn them.

The authors, through the character of Jesus, are trying to simplify all of that. They are attempting to simplify the convoluted guidelines that define the laws that clarify the ethical principles. Perhaps they are even hoping to stem the potential for excuses and complex patterns of behavior to make the excuses palatable. Love one another. Act in ways that reflect genuine regard for one another's well-being. Ask yourself before you say or do what you are about to say or do, "Will this demonstrate love?" If the answer is Yes, go right ahead. If the answer is No, reconsider your decisions.

Who is one another, then? Did the authors mean just the disciples sitting in the room with Jesus? Probably not. They are writing these words to a community of people generations after the events of the narrative were supposed to have happened. Does one another just apply to members of the same community, then? So, show love to people who believe the same things you do, but you aren't obligated to demonstrate love toward anyone else? This is certainly the way some people seem to interpret it. This seems like another clever way of making excuses for claiming an ethical or moral position and still getting to treat people however you want to.

The point of having a "new commandment" is to establish a guiding principle for the community that is in some way superior to the previous principle(s) by which the community made decisions. Meaning, the authors are suggesting that if people "love one another," there won't be any need for rules about avoiding specific behaviors. People who love one another don't kill each other. People who love one another don't lie about each other. People who love one another don't steal from each other. They don't let their fear provoke them into doing harm or taking things personally. If "love one another" is taken seriously, without leaving room for excuses when love is inconvenient or uncomfortable, you don't need a long catalog of rules or an itemized list of what to avoid.

It isn't always clear what the most loving action would be in certain situations. There is certainly room for discussion about how to create the greatest good for the greatest number of people. That's rarely our motivation, though. Our motivation is more often, How can I seem loving at the least cost to my own sense of safety and comfort? This new commandment the authors are suggesting to their community takes a lot of thought and lot of work. It requires people to be very intentional in the way they treat people. It isn't weak or easy, and most people simply don't buy it.

Love people. How many excuses just popped into your head? Who do you think you don't have to love? What problems can't be addressed by love? What are you unwilling to give up when it comes to loving other people?

Part of our problem is a flimsy definition of love. We might reasonably define love as demonstrable concern for another's well-being. There is an element of compassionate connection in the word perhaps, but there is nothing about love that requires permissiveness, or giving up one's own authentic self for the sake of someone else's comfort. Love, as a foundational value, directs us toward actions that align with the guiding principle that every person has inherent worth and dignity. Love as a principle holds us accountable in a very different way from a checklist of avoided misdeeds.

Love one another. Respect other people's boundaries, and be clear about your own boundaries.

Love one another. Do what is within your means to contribute to the well being of people around you without being judgmental or condescending.

Love one another. Care for yourself well enough that you will be able to offer your best to others.

Love one another. Take responsibility for only what you are responsible for, and let other people be responsible for their own feelings, beliefs, and decisions.

Love one another. Listen compassionately without trying to fix people.

Love one another. Seriously. Get to the heart of what that means, and make your life about that. This is no small adjustment or simple task. This is a lifelong commitment to a deep value that permeates every relationship.

Love one another. When it starts to settle in that this is not a platitude, but that this is the very core of what it means to be fully human, you'll be on the right track.




Monday, April 13, 2015

John 13: Washing Feet

As you may recall, a few passages back in the story, Mary (sister of Lazarus) lavished expensive perfume on Jesus' feet, and the disciples were somewhat irate (one in particular). Now, in the first paragraphs of John 13, Jesus humbles himself and washes the disciples' feet. As is par for the course in all of the gospel narratives, the disciples don't quite get it, at least not at the time.

Yes, we have to decide what to do with the assertion that the devil put something into Judas' heart that made his impending betrayal a foregone conclusion. Actually, the way the gospel of John keeps preparing the reader with dramatic foreshadowing about Judas' betrayal is quite interesting. It's as if the authors recognize that everyone already knows the story, and their job is to help place meaning on the details. They do this from their own perspective, of course, but they can't actually know some of the things they assert. 

Case in point, they can't know that a supernatural influenced Judas in any way. It was part of their worldview that demons and angels were active in the lives of people, primarily because they had no other explanation for some of what they experienced. Disease was mysterious. Epilepsy and depression and schizophrenia were not even meaningful concepts. As with many people today, luck and coincidence seemed less likely reasons for certain turns of events than the idea that supernaturals were influencing reality in one way or another. We are still prone to making up stories about why people do the things they do, and the idea of demonic influence is still a hot topic in our fictions. 

Human behavior has human causes. I don't know that there was an actual Judas, but even in the story, I don't know what was in the mind of the character Judas. I know what the authors of John believed about the situation, but I also know that human behavior is never the result of a supernatural force. Judas' "devil" was his own thoughts and beliefs, his own fears about himself and others. This is influential enough to account for the whole spectrum of human behavior. 

Beliefs are powerful, especially fear-laden beliefs. When we read of Judas' betrayal later in the narrative, it would behoove us to interpret the devil entering his heart as his own fears running rampant and unchecked. Although Judas presumably has the same capacity as anyone else for rational thought and intentional management of his fear, he will choose to let his fear guide his behavior. We know people (and we ourselves may sometimes be those people) who continue to let their fear guide their behavior. If we know what to look for, it's easy to see it when it's happening, just as the Jesus character may have seen the telltale signs of fear in Judas' demeanor.

The Jesus character doesn't react with his own fear about Judas. He doesn't kick Judas out. He doesn't plead with Judas. He doesn't berate and embarrass Judas in front of everyone. He doesn't tell Judas that he's wrong. He doesn't argue with Judas. The Jesus character just continues with his own intentional actions with the barest acknowledgment that he knows what's cooking in Judas' mind. The Jesus character keeps teaching and modeling a way of being, even though he is fairly certain that all of his instruction will be lost on this person who is so wrapped up in his own fear that he can't see anything else. 

Much has been written in Christian circles about the foot washing scene. It's often a highlight of religious services the Thursday before Easter. In some traditions, this day is called "Maundy Thursday," a name derived from the Latin for "mandate" or "command," taken from the statement at John 13:34, "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another." The demonstration of love in washing their feet is only the most recent of many examples of Jesus' love for others. The example set in the story is that love is more powerful than fear -- that in our lives, love-centered behavior is preferable to fear-driven actions.

This is true in our personal relationships as it is true in our professional decisions. If we are driven by fear, we will inevitably act in a way that harms other people and ourselves. If we are principled in our decisions, we are more apt to make decisions with integrity. Saying that love should be at the heart of what we do is not to say that foolish decisions are justifiable if we make those decisions with loving intentions. Wisdom and thoughtfulness are still worthy ideals. We might get side-tracked by a flimsy definition of love as an affectionate emotion. If love is defined as demonstrative concern for another's well-being, however, it becomes clearer that we must be thoughtful in order to contribute meaningfully to actual well-being in someone's life.

The Jesus character in this passage demonstrates concern for the well-being of his closest friends by serving them in a way they don't expect. He takes a vulnerable, humble position with them, and yet he still has his own clear boundaries. When Simon Peter protests, the Exemplar doesn't shift his actions, he gently and firmly explains that he is being thoughtful and intentional in his decision. 

Life is full of stress and anxiety. Even though we may not have a friend and teacher about to be executed, and even though we may not be driven into hiding because our group has attracted unwanted attention from authorities, we have no trouble finding things to be anxious about. When we are humbly thoughtful of how we might be of service to other people, it might shift our perspective away from the focus on anxiety that tends to be our default. The Exemplar in this story is not seeking after his own power or fame or reward. He is committed to a particular way of being because it resonates with his deepest values. He wants his closest friends to get that, to see their own potential for living that level of integrity.

We cannot honestly care only for ourselves. Our actions influence other people. We can't not be connected to others. This being the case, it's worth a little consideration how we will influence others. Our fears will suggest certain courses of action. Our deepest values will suggest a different way of being. We get to choose which we will follow. 

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Mark 10: Inappropriate Shame

Following some difficult words on wealth, Mark 10 contains a third prediction about Jesus' death, which can be taken as a literary device of either foreshadowing or framing the stories of Jesus' activity. We will consider the implications of these predictions at greater length when we come to the passion narrative. Then, there is a request by James and John to be given a place of honor in the kingdom they think Jesus is establishing. As the gospel of Matthew tells the story, it is their mother who makes the request on their behalf, and the gospel of Luke's version not only doesn't mention James and John by name, but also suggests a place of honor for all of the disciples, in contradiction of the message about being of service. Given that the author or editors of the gospel of Luke may well have been attempting to legitimize the authority of the leaders of the early Christian sect, it is perhaps more worthwhile to look at what these passages hold in common.

Incidentally, this same message is conveyed through Jesus' act of washing the disciples' feet portrayed only in the gospel of John. To wash one another's feet in the context of that time and culture was to perform the lowest duties of the most base servant, making the message in the gospel of John even more extreme than the more bland teaching of the gospel of Mark. What is it that the authors are suggesting through Jesus' words and actions? What value does that have for us?

In the first century, as now, prestige had value. One's position in society was an indication of one's worth and value -- a sign of one's merit. James and John are asking here for positions of authority in the new world order they believe Jesus will establish. These fishermen desire to be in positions of power. They seem to have missed the point of Jesus' teaching up to this point. Jesus corrects them by pointing out that things don't have value just because the world thinks it so. He is not establishing a way of being that looks just like the old way of being, just with different personnel. He is establishing a new way of being -- a new way of defining self and others and relationship. He is defining a way of being that does not revolve around having power over other people, but rather of recognizing one's own power to positively effect the lives of others. His disciples, like many believers today, seem to have thought that the rhetoric was just a nice way of expressing regime change and a domineering claim over society. Doublespeak. Spin.

One of the most devastating issues that humanity has yet to deal with effectively is the issue of shame. We use shame to control other people, and it's a very effective control. I think we use shame against others, though, because we don't know what to do with our own shame. Shaming others makes us feel superior, which alleviates our own sense of shame, however inappropriate or misguided any of that shame may be. James and John may have felt some shame at being fishermen and having no real power in their society. There's no real reason for this, except perhaps that they believed what their society said about some people being worth more than other people.

In our own society, we still use shaming others to make ourselves feel better. When one says to a panhandler, "Why don't you just go get a job instead of begging for money?" the panhandler is not often given the chance to respond, "Because I have a mental illness and no access to adequate medical care. I don't even have enough money to keep a roof over my head, and I don't know where my next meal is going to come from. I have no way to shower for a job interview and no clean clothes to change into, and I've developed an addiction because it's the only respite I have from this hopeless way of life."

We have become accustomed to shaming the homeless. We shame the uneducated. We shame the mentally ill. We shame the poor. We shame the unemployed. We shame people who need assistance to provide for themselves and their families. We shame addicts. We even try to find clever ways to shame people who look different from us, come from different cultures than us, speak a different language from us, or love different people than we do. We think of and treat those people as if they are worthless, or if not utterly worthless, at least worth less than we are. Therefore, we can feel proud of our jobs, our education, our homes, our mental health, our resources, our marriages, and our more socially acceptable addictions. We can ignore our own shame because there's someone we can point to who "should" feel more shame than we do. Sometimes our jobs, our education, our homes, and our resources are actually sources of shame for us, so we try extra hard to turn them into points of pride.

Some of our shame is appropriate. The shame that we feel when we have caused harm to another person is appropriate shame. It isn't pleasant, though. So, often we contrive a way to shame the victim in order to alleviate the shame of the culprit. Nowhere is this more blatantly apparent in our society than in the issue of rape. There is nothing that a person can do to warrant being sexually assaulted, and yet by shaming the victims for their behavior or clothing or naivete, the culprits somehow become satisfied that their actions were justifiable or permissible. In all honesty, those culprits most likely feel some degree of shame -- I have to believe that their humanity demands that they feel some degree of shame. Yet, we may not even recognize the feeling of shame if we've spent a lifetime blaming others for our own harmful behavior. We may even see ourselves as victims who deserve more power, authority, wealth, or respect, without ever considering how the pursuit of those things aligns (or fails to align) with our guiding principles or the world we most want to create.

We can't actually even know our guiding principles clearly if we are bound by shame. Even those of us who carry around inappropriate shame (which is probably all of us) have to figure out what to do with that shame. Most of the time, we choose one of two responses. We either give in to lies about ourselves or we combat them with every ounce of our being. Many of us buy into the inappropriate shame that someone put on us and believe that we are lazy, worthless, stupid, ugly, unlovable, incompetent, failures, or at the very least, less important than everybody else. We live out that identity in our decisions and our relationships, playing a role less than the reality of our authentic being. This does not truly serve anyone.

On the other hand, many of us do everything we can to convince ourselves and the world that we are not those things. We overwork ourselves to prove that we are not lazy. We earn as much as we can to prove that we are not worthless. We enter into and remain in shallow or abusive relationships to prove that we are lovable. The problem is that we can never do enough to eradicate the fear that the lies are true -- that deep down inside we are shameful beings. And despite what some people may tell you, no amount of positive affirmation will convince you of something that your mind just doesn't believe.

How do we address inappropriate shame, then? One way is to stop trying so hard to prove ourselves. We may discover some truths about ourselves just from being willing to look honestly at who we are and what matters to us. Dismantling lies that we have held onto since we were kids, though -- that can take some time. It's almost a lifestyle choice to look honestly at why you believe what you do about yourself and to decide who you want to be in the world. Self-examination is a discipline, and like many disciplines, it is often easier to practice in community with other people. Certainly, such a community must be a safe place, and finding that can sometimes be a challenge. If we are committed to releasing inappropriate shame from our lives, however, we absolutely must get to the heart of the lies we believe about ourselves and dismantle them.

How do we know what the lies are, though? Maybe we are honestly ugly or stupid or lazy, right? Well, first of all, the reality of who we are is probably not the same as our poorest, most critical image of ourselves. Secondly, we don't need to define ourselves only by superficial characteristics. For instance, why does our physical appearance matter so much? If it's a matter of wanting to be healthier somehow, there are probably some habits that we can change to improve our physical health. If we're worried about our physical appearance just because we think we need to fit with someone else's ideal of beauty, then that's a lie worth dismantling. Understanding why we believe the things we do about ourselves is hard work sometimes, but what we get out of that is the ability to be more authentic and whole in our lives.

This authentic wholeness is what the conversation in Mark 10 tends toward. Positions of power can't ever convince us that we are worthwhile individuals if we believe or fear that we are worthless. When the title can't convince us, we may try to extend our power or we may abuse our power to control other people's lives. Even then, there is never enough that we can do to prove our own worth if we are trapped in inappropriate shame because of some lie we've been told about our identity and value. When we stop trying to prove ourselves and inhabit our authentic selves more fully, we have the opportunity to see other people more authentically as well. When we recognize our own inherent worth and dignity, we can connect more meaningfully with others. The work of dismantling our lies about ourselves yields the opportunity for us to connect with our own deepest, most noble selves as well. We can create a purpose for our lives beyond trying to prove ourselves or trying to shift our shame to someone else. We can discover what is truly meaningful for us, and we can live that out more consistently, more joyfully, and more courageously.

Ultimately, we can hopefully recognize that we are enough as we are. We do not have to feel shame for not living up to someone else's expectations. We do not have to be anything more than or less than who we are. This is not a selfish declaration, although it is something that focuses on accepting who we are, honestly and authentically. Dealing with our inappropriate shame, dismantling the lies that we believe or fear about ourselves, serves the world too, because it allows us to engage more meaningfully and passionately in creating something better than what we know today. Let's stop carrying around inappropriate shame, and let's stop foisting shame on others. Instead, let's do what we can to find out what a world full of authentic, compassionate, courageous, creative people looks like.