One of the biggest problems with reading the Bible is that so much of it was written a bit cryptically. The language is simple, but laced with mystical terminology that doesn't have a clear meaning. Most likely, those more mystical words were defined in the context of a community, with a particular culture of terminology. The intent of the writing was not to convey meaning, but to provide a framework on which meaning could be placed. So, the language of the writing is subject to interpretation, especially by people who aren't part of the community in which the original words were written. Lots of scholars, preachers, and everyday believers have their own opinions about what the biblical text means, but since no one is a part of the ancient community in which all the biblical terminology was given meaning, it becomes a matter of whose opinion is most convincing.
Just as a reminder, in John 3, Jesus and Nicodemus are characters in a story written by someone in the late first century or early second century. This is not a transcription of a historical conversation. No one can legitimately claim, "Jesus really said that," or "Jesus never said that," because no one has any clue what Jesus said, or even if he said anything at all. Our goal is not to prove anything about Jesus; our goal is to find some value for our own lives. I'm not going to pretend that I know what the original authors intended by their words. I suspect that I probably wouldn't agree with their worldview, since people two thousand years ago they believed an awful lot about the world that we now know just isn't true. So, instead of pretending to express the authors' meaning, I'm going to translate the terminology of John 3 into something that I think is more useful.
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Now, there was an important spiritual teacher named Nicodemus. He came to Jesus at night in secret and said to him, "Teacher, we know that you are an authentically good person; for no one can do the good things you do without being empowered by goodness."
Jesus answered him, "Listen carefully, no one can be aware of the significant action of good in the world without being awake. No one can see the full potential for well-being without being conscious."
Nicodemus said to him, "Are we not awake now? Are we not conscious? Does a person get out of bed and go through the day and yet remain asleep?"
Jesus said, "Some do. Listen carefully, no one can experience abundance of life without being awake to the self. Physical wakefulness is only partial wakefulness. Those who are aware of their deepest, most noble selves are more fully awake. Doing those things that reflect intentionality and integrity with one's deepest self has greater power and impact in the world than merely satisfying physical needs.
"Do not be astonished that I am telling you to wake up! Once you are fully conscious, a whole new process of growth begins. The wind blows all around, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. The wind isn't concerned about end results; it is simply wind. So it is with those who have awareness and integrity to their guiding principles and their deepest, most noble self."
Nicodemus said to him, "How is this possible?"
Jesus answered him, "Are you a spiritual teacher, and yet you do not understand these things? Listen carefully, we are only able to teach what we know and have experienced, yet those who are still asleep cannot understand what we say. If I have told you about the most basic things and you do not accept it, how can you accept any deeper truths? No one has truly delved into themselves except the person who returns enlightened. And just as the old story says Moses lifted up a bronze serpent in the wilderness [to magically heal poisoned Israelites by presenting a visible object] so must the awakened be lifted up as an example, that whoever is willing to emulate the awakened can find healing for the poison of fear, and discover within themselves the way of integrity and intentionality. If you believe in the possibility of living without irrational fear, you will have a more abundant experience of life."
For our deepest, most noble selves do not lead us to harm, but lead us out of our habit of being consumed by fear and into a deeper, more fulfilling experience. This is possible for everyone. Indeed, our deepest, most noble selves lead us toward greater well-being for everyone, even those who are still asleep.
Awareness is not a weapon. Belief in the freedom to exhibit intentionality and integrity based on your guiding principles without being limited by irrational fear "saves" you from your default future -- changes the course of your life from reactive to responsive. Those who emulate the awakened and trust in their own ability to be more conscious have hope; but those who accept their default future remained trapped in their fearfulness and reactivity. This is the real tragedy, that their deepest, most noble selves are available to them to open the way toward a more fulfilling experience of life, yet they are so accustomed to fear that they ignore the opportunity. For those who see the world as a threatening place do not want to be left vulnerable, and yet some part of them feels shame and guilt over the harm they cause because of their fear.
But those who practice truth recognize that the true character of every person desires well-being for all, and their action gives meaning to their belief in themselves and in others, so that it may be clearly seen that people are capable of being guided by a sense of well-being and creativity that runs deeper than their fear -- that another way is possible for human beings.
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A Little Experiment: Wake up. What is one little thing you can do to be more aware of your own vision for yourself and for the world? Try spending 10 minutes in silence and solitude every day for a week. Don't judge what comes up for you, just be aware of it. This is the beginning of connection with yourself. 10 minutes not long enough for you? Give yourself permission to spend more time in introspection.
Another Little Experiment: Know thyself. Write down your guiding principles -- the things that matter most to you in life. These are not the ways that you think you need to protect yourself from a hostile world. These are the things that you believe would make the world better for everyone. How do you most want to show up? What do you want to contribute to a better world? Write down your guiding principles, even if you aren't living by them very well right now, and read over them a few times this week.
One More Little Experiment: Be the wind. How often do you not do something you think is right because you are afraid of what other people will think of you? Try pushing through that fear and acting with integrity. This is not about being impulsive or letting yourself react out of anxiety. This is about acting with integrity to your deep values or guiding principles. If you haven't clarified your deep values yet, don't try this experiment.
Showing posts with label creativity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creativity. Show all posts
Monday, October 6, 2014
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
John 1:1-18 Introductions (meet the book, and meet your ideal self)
We could press forward with Isaiah at this point. The tone shifts dramatically, and the events around which the next chapters were composed are much later historically than the first third of the book. However, our practice had been to look at the “historical” books first, and then to take a look at the “prophetic” books that responded to those events. We also have not spent much time in the New Testament since our completion of Mark. As we saw, Mark has many similarities with the books of Matthew and Luke. John is a rather different reflection on the Jesus story, and it includes a great deal of wisdom that transcends Christian mythology. So, let’s begin to delve into John, and we’ll intersperse that exploration with a continuation of Old Testament texts.
The gospel of John was written sometime between the years 85 and 110 CE, by a Christian (or a community of Christians, possibly in Asia Minor) who followed a distinct mystic path within the Christian cult. This volume is theologically distinct from the other three (synoptic) gospels because it expresses certain traditions connected to a specific interpretation of Christianity. Most likely, this was to ensure clarity and consistency as the influence of this particular spiritual culture grew. It is apparent that the authors know the Jesus stories of the other gospels, which means that these other documents must have been at least partially written and distributed prior to the composition of the gospel of John.
There is a wisdom and logic to nature. Everything that exists, exists within a predictable array of patterns. Human beings also follow some predictable patterns, even though we don’t always realize that we are engaging in destructive patterns that can’t get us where we most want to go. There is a way of seeing ourselves and other people -- a way of seeing reality -- that creates well-being rather than destroying, and no amount of destructive human behavior can make that way of seeing -- or way of being -- inaccessible.
This is a story. It’s a story about a man who got it -- who saw things creatively rather than destructively. A man who knew who he was, and who knew what kind of world he most wanted to live in. To some people, such a person is really obvious -- a glaring beacon. One of our biggest mistakes would be to assume that we cannot be that person. This is a story about a man, a symbol, an example. This is also a story about all of us.
Such a person who sees the world differently -- who lives differently -- is going to seem unusual to a lot of people. Such a person might be really difficult for some people to accept. Doing things differently is scary. Even if the way we are accustomed to doing things hurts us and the people around us, change is difficult. But, those people who are willing to see themselves, others, and the world a little differently -- those people who follow the example of the man in this story -- they are going to have the power to create something new. They will understand love in a new way. They will understand themselves in a new way. It will be like an awakening -- like a new birth. You could be one of those people.
Imagine that a deeper kind of wisdom took shape in a person. Imagine that there was an individual who didn’t practice the kinds of destructive patterns we all default to when we get scared or anxious. Can you picture what that person would be like? From that image, that ideal, we can derive a new vision of ourselves. Nobody has ever seen any evidence of a supernatural divine being, but we can imagine what qualities such a being would have. A lot of those qualities are qualities we could have -- qualities we already have, if we choose to express them.
If you can imagine a person like that --
a person who sees the world through eyes of love rather than eyes of fear,
a person who is personally responsible and conveys honor and respect for all things,
a person who tells the truth without blame or judgment,
a person who acts from a place of authenticity --
if you can imagine a person like that, you can imagine a best possible version of yourself. And if you can imagine a best possible version of yourself, you can live into that ideal day by day. And if you can live into that ideal day by day, you can create something new. You can change the world. That’s what this story is about.
The gospel of John was written sometime between the years 85 and 110 CE, by a Christian (or a community of Christians, possibly in Asia Minor) who followed a distinct mystic path within the Christian cult. This volume is theologically distinct from the other three (synoptic) gospels because it expresses certain traditions connected to a specific interpretation of Christianity. Most likely, this was to ensure clarity and consistency as the influence of this particular spiritual culture grew. It is apparent that the authors know the Jesus stories of the other gospels, which means that these other documents must have been at least partially written and distributed prior to the composition of the gospel of John.
The final version of the gospel of John as we have it expresses a mature, yet distinct, theological interpretation of the Jesus tradition, with less of an interest in chronology and historical accuracy and a greater interest in spiritual truth. It may even be possible that the seven purposefully chosen miracle stories in this gospel reflect sacraments or creeds of a particular community. So, it’s likely that this theology with mystic overtones matured in a Christian community that developed a nuanced set of Jesus traditions distinct from, yet compatible with, Christianity as it was interpreted through Paul and Peter. This document may also have grown over time as the theology of the community developed and spread.
Often, this gospel is seen as portraying Jesus, Son of God, as the divine miracle worker, through whom eternal life is available (through the gift of the Holy Spirit) because of his death and resurrection. The authors’ seven miracle stories are connected with statements of the character of Jesus about himself, and these “I am” statements have parallels in Jewish Wisdom literature. (Indeed, the identification of Jesus as the Word in this book is a re-framing of the Jewish characterization of Wisdom herself.) However, we will also see that Jesus is depicted here as the ideal example for human behavior, characterized as one who serves out of desire and not obligation, who seeks love and unity rather than making demands of others, and who maintains integrity in the midst of societal misunderstanding and hostility. It is entirely possible to interpret these human qualities and practices as being the source of abundant life.
The introductory 18 verses of John have been analyzed in various ways, with some scholars assuming that the author is commenting on a preexisting hymn because of textual clues. However, there is no evidence of a preexisting text on which this introduction is based, although it could have gone through several revisions before it reached the version we now read. In any case, these first verses set up an authorial tone that is poetic and mysterious, almost as though one needs to be an “insider” to really comprehend the nuances of language. Our goal isn’t necessarily to get inside the author’s head, though. Our goal is just to draw some wisdom or insight that is useful in our own lives.
The introductory 18 verses of John have been analyzed in various ways, with some scholars assuming that the author is commenting on a preexisting hymn because of textual clues. However, there is no evidence of a preexisting text on which this introduction is based, although it could have gone through several revisions before it reached the version we now read. In any case, these first verses set up an authorial tone that is poetic and mysterious, almost as though one needs to be an “insider” to really comprehend the nuances of language. Our goal isn’t necessarily to get inside the author’s head, though. Our goal is just to draw some wisdom or insight that is useful in our own lives.
John 1:1-18 begins with an echo of Genesis 1:1. In the beginning... suggests that something new has happened. We are beginning religious history anew. Capitalization is not a feature of ancient Greek, so turning the Word into a title is an editorial decision on the part of translators. It is apparent that the Word is symbolic of something, though. In Greek, this would be Logos, or the principle of reason and judgment -- more simply, wisdom. Earlier Jewish writings ascribe a feminine gender to Wisdom, but it’s obvious the author is headed in an intentional direction.
So, Wisdom has always been around, and nothing human beings behold came into existence without following the principle of reason and judgment. This thought is often used to justify creationism, even suggesting that Jesus was around before the beginning of the universe. Maybe that’s what the author is actually saying, but without any evidence to support such a claim, it’s just a creative idea. We can say, however, based on all the evidence available to us, that everything that exists follows predictable, natural patterns. There is a certain reasonableness to nature, and we can recognize this even as we continue to learn more about the predictable natural patterns of the world we share and the universe as a whole. The idea of wisdom (or absolute, ultimate Wisdom) didn’t precede human beings, though. Natural processes have been around since there has been anything we might consider natural. Natural processes don’t have any inherent qualities like wisdom, though. The processes aren’t good or bad; they’re just natural.
Yet, once we start evaluating things -- particularly human behavior -- we certainly find it easy to assess some things as good and other things as bad. We don’t always agree with each other, but we are usually pretty convinced of our own assessment of things. There is a light -- a way of seeing, an insight -- that is available to everyone, and yet not everyone recognizes the value of that perspective. The gospel of John will personify that perspective, that insight, that light. We may not really know what the author’s original intentions were, but we can certainly appreciate the concept of using a character in a story to demonstrate an ideal. The view that many believers take is that everyone should accept that the Light is a unique individual (Jesus) who should be worshiped and upon whom one must rely for salvation. It is an equally legitimate perspective to read John’s Jesus as an exemplar to be emulated -- the embodiment of an ideal that leads to salvation from a very real sort of destruction.
What we might expect from a more Humanist introduction to the gospel of John, then, could perhaps be expressed:
There is a wisdom and logic to nature. Everything that exists, exists within a predictable array of patterns. Human beings also follow some predictable patterns, even though we don’t always realize that we are engaging in destructive patterns that can’t get us where we most want to go. There is a way of seeing ourselves and other people -- a way of seeing reality -- that creates well-being rather than destroying, and no amount of destructive human behavior can make that way of seeing -- or way of being -- inaccessible.
This is a story. It’s a story about a man who got it -- who saw things creatively rather than destructively. A man who knew who he was, and who knew what kind of world he most wanted to live in. To some people, such a person is really obvious -- a glaring beacon. One of our biggest mistakes would be to assume that we cannot be that person. This is a story about a man, a symbol, an example. This is also a story about all of us.
Such a person who sees the world differently -- who lives differently -- is going to seem unusual to a lot of people. Such a person might be really difficult for some people to accept. Doing things differently is scary. Even if the way we are accustomed to doing things hurts us and the people around us, change is difficult. But, those people who are willing to see themselves, others, and the world a little differently -- those people who follow the example of the man in this story -- they are going to have the power to create something new. They will understand love in a new way. They will understand themselves in a new way. It will be like an awakening -- like a new birth. You could be one of those people.
Imagine that a deeper kind of wisdom took shape in a person. Imagine that there was an individual who didn’t practice the kinds of destructive patterns we all default to when we get scared or anxious. Can you picture what that person would be like? From that image, that ideal, we can derive a new vision of ourselves. Nobody has ever seen any evidence of a supernatural divine being, but we can imagine what qualities such a being would have. A lot of those qualities are qualities we could have -- qualities we already have, if we choose to express them.
If you can imagine a person like that --
a person who sees the world through eyes of love rather than eyes of fear,
a person who is personally responsible and conveys honor and respect for all things,
a person who tells the truth without blame or judgment,
a person who acts from a place of authenticity --
if you can imagine a person like that, you can imagine a best possible version of yourself. And if you can imagine a best possible version of yourself, you can live into that ideal day by day. And if you can live into that ideal day by day, you can create something new. You can change the world. That’s what this story is about.
Monday, July 28, 2014
Isaiah 33: Selective Well-Being Is Not Genuine Well-Being
People make enemies. Usually, people make enemies by their reactivity, when fear drives the bus and prompts people to act in ways that don't align with their deepest values. The leaders of Judah made enemies through political decisions intended to preserve power and protect resources. Unfortunately, their adversaries were operating under an equally false impression of power and well-being. The tyranny of emperors has never been sustainable in human culture, but that still doesn't stop tyrannical people from thinking that they will be the exception to the rule. Tyranny is based on fear, just as Judah's defiance of the Assyrian Empire was based on fear. Of course, when we talk about "Judah's defiance," it isn't as if an entire country rebelled with a common sense of purpose. The entire country suffered, but it was the decision of a single leader (informed by his counselors) that determined the fate of the people he governed. It would be a mistake to assume that everyone in Judah was in agreement about international relations, primarily because most people didn't know that much about the specifics of politics.
Many people are satisfied with not suffering. They don't necessarily care what is going on politically, and especially in other parts of the world, as long as they are not personally suffering. We concoct excuses why other people are suffering while we are not, and we practice behaviors designed to protect what we have and preserve the power we have over our lives and possessions. If we get too attached to having more power than some other people, more wealth than some other people, or (bluntly) more well-being than some other people, we run the risk of making enemies. Being comfortable with a status quo in which some people have greater well-being than other people is not far from being comfortable with the idea that some people are worth more than other people. This is not a path to mutual respect or peace.
Isaiah 33 issues a promise of deliverance from enemies. As many of the promises in the prophetic books, this one is empty. It is an empty promise because it relies on an external supernatural to take care of human problems. This is rather like a child expecting that a parent will clean up any messes and whisk away any consequences that result from the child's behavior. In other words, it is devoid of personal responsibility. The problems that human beings create must be addressed by human beings, and they must be addressed more responsibly than just waiting for a supernatural to decide that it's time to fix things. A supernatural is not going to be your salvation in time of trouble. If we have any salvation, it is in human beings and our capacity to make better decisions than what we have made in the past.
If we take the definition of divinity as something that is within every person -- an inherently human characteristic -- then we might create a workable interpretation of Isaiah 33. Without any attempt to retain the poetic nature of the original text,
Thus, it is not the case that power and wealth and well-being are bad things. When our goal becomes preserving our own power and protecting what we have, then we go off the rails and cease to have integrity with our guiding principles. However, it is possible for us to recognize the resources at our disposal and allow our deepest values to determine what we do with those resources. The reality is that some people have more power than other people. Some people have more money than other people. Some people have more intelligence than other people. Some people have advantages in some facet of well-being that others do not have. The point is not to reject what we have haphazardly, but to use the resources at our disposal to create something better than current reality. Rather than trying to preserve and protect what we have (or gain more to hoard for ourselves -- another fear-based reaction), we could be using what we have in ways that align with our deepest values.
Nor is this an entirely selfless position. The underlying message of Isaiah 33 is that what some people think of as security and well-being is just an illusion. Piling up wealth and power for oneself isn't going to create lasting meaningful benefits. True well-being for ourselves requires the well-being of the people around us. When we share our resources with our own neighborhoods, we create better environments for our own lives. When we share our resources with other parts of the world, we create a better future to live into. Our deepest, most noble selves do not encourage us to sacrifice our own well-being for the benefit of others, but to sacrifice our false sense of scarcity and our irrational fears about other people and ourselves, so that we might have genuine well-being in our own lives.
Many people are satisfied with not suffering. They don't necessarily care what is going on politically, and especially in other parts of the world, as long as they are not personally suffering. We concoct excuses why other people are suffering while we are not, and we practice behaviors designed to protect what we have and preserve the power we have over our lives and possessions. If we get too attached to having more power than some other people, more wealth than some other people, or (bluntly) more well-being than some other people, we run the risk of making enemies. Being comfortable with a status quo in which some people have greater well-being than other people is not far from being comfortable with the idea that some people are worth more than other people. This is not a path to mutual respect or peace.
Isaiah 33 issues a promise of deliverance from enemies. As many of the promises in the prophetic books, this one is empty. It is an empty promise because it relies on an external supernatural to take care of human problems. This is rather like a child expecting that a parent will clean up any messes and whisk away any consequences that result from the child's behavior. In other words, it is devoid of personal responsibility. The problems that human beings create must be addressed by human beings, and they must be addressed more responsibly than just waiting for a supernatural to decide that it's time to fix things. A supernatural is not going to be your salvation in time of trouble. If we have any salvation, it is in human beings and our capacity to make better decisions than what we have made in the past.
If we take the definition of divinity as something that is within every person -- an inherently human characteristic -- then we might create a workable interpretation of Isaiah 33. Without any attempt to retain the poetic nature of the original text,
People who seek to destroy or betray others in order to preserve an imbalance of power create only the illusion of well-being for themselves. They have to live in perpetual fear of reprisals and spend so much time protecting what they have that they never learn to use it wisely.
Our deepest, most noble selves influence us in a different direction and reveal the values that will lead to more authentic well-being. We cannot lose the voice of our deepest, most noble self; there is no way for us to blot out our truest selves completely. This voice of truth, beauty, and creativity within us shows us the path to mutual well-being, equity, and justice. The counsel of our deepest, most noble selves offers stability in our lives and in our relationships, boundless integrity with ourselves and reconciliation with others, and sustainable insights toward lives free of irrational fear.
People will lose all of the things they try to hold on to out of fearful self-interest. There is no strategy born of anxiety that will pay meaningful dividends. Peace, justice, and genuine well-being come from other sources.
If we heed the voice of our deepest, most noble self, it will be impossible for others not to notice. Our lives will look so different from the lives of those who live by fear that it cannot leave the world unchanged.
Here are some specifics: our actions would have obvious integrity with our values and our words would be impeccably honest, we would find ways to have what we need without supporting the oppression of other people, we would seek what creates the greatest good for the greatest number of people rather than what provides immediate gratification in our own lives, we would not accept violence as an acceptable solution to human problems, and we would not justify abusive behavior by the ends it is intended to achieve. When we do what we know to be right, by the testimony of our deepest, most noble selves, we will create well-being in every dimension of our lives, and we will promote multi-dimensional well-being in the lives of the people around us.
The world cannot be sustained by fear. There is no hope in the priority of preserving power and control of resources among an elite few. We don't have to learn what justice and well-being would look like. We already know these things. Yet, there is no point in resentment against those who have lived out of fear. The way forward creates a better world for everybody, where everyone has enough and no one has reason to be afraid.None of this is to say that it is easy to live with integrity, or even to know what our deepest values are if we have never really thought about it. It takes time and practice to allow our deepest, most noble selves to have greater influence in our lives than the irrational fear and anxiety by which we are accustomed to living. Our greatest strength is that we already know what justice and well-being would look like. We just operate under the impression that it would be impossible to have true justice and well-being for everyone. Maybe we have to start small -- in our own lives and in our own neighborhoods -- so that we can develop greater hope for more people. We know what justice and well-being look like. We just have to commit ourselves to creating that to whatever extent we can.
Thus, it is not the case that power and wealth and well-being are bad things. When our goal becomes preserving our own power and protecting what we have, then we go off the rails and cease to have integrity with our guiding principles. However, it is possible for us to recognize the resources at our disposal and allow our deepest values to determine what we do with those resources. The reality is that some people have more power than other people. Some people have more money than other people. Some people have more intelligence than other people. Some people have advantages in some facet of well-being that others do not have. The point is not to reject what we have haphazardly, but to use the resources at our disposal to create something better than current reality. Rather than trying to preserve and protect what we have (or gain more to hoard for ourselves -- another fear-based reaction), we could be using what we have in ways that align with our deepest values.
Nor is this an entirely selfless position. The underlying message of Isaiah 33 is that what some people think of as security and well-being is just an illusion. Piling up wealth and power for oneself isn't going to create lasting meaningful benefits. True well-being for ourselves requires the well-being of the people around us. When we share our resources with our own neighborhoods, we create better environments for our own lives. When we share our resources with other parts of the world, we create a better future to live into. Our deepest, most noble selves do not encourage us to sacrifice our own well-being for the benefit of others, but to sacrifice our false sense of scarcity and our irrational fears about other people and ourselves, so that we might have genuine well-being in our own lives.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Isaiah 29: Creating the Future
Human creativity (and our fear of being wrong about anything) make prophetic passages like Isaiah 29 potentially dangerous. Not all prophecy is prediction about the future, but this chapter clearly is intended as such. Whether the authors are predicting a literal future or are figuratively depicting a hopeful future is up for debate, but it is clear that the chapter is intended to predict a future that is different from current reality.
Our creativity may become doubly engaged when we place confidence in prophecies. We begin to interpret exactly what is meant by the words, and we may begin seeking out ways to cause the prophecy to be true. If a horoscope tells us, "You will receive a gift today," we might be sure to check the mail and keep all of our appointments. If we don't actually receive a physical gift, we might start thinking through the day to discover what the intangible gift was. Perhaps it was the moment when someone sat and deeply listened to us, or perhaps it was the kind person with a full cart of groceries who let us go ahead of them with our three items. Most likely, we can figure out something that we would consider a kindness if we have been engaging with people all day expecting to receive something.
Some predictions are more vague, however, and place things a bit more in our control. What if, instead of passively receiving a gift, I told you that you would find a treasure? Now, the responsibility is even more on your shoulders to make the prediction true. Even if you find a quarter on the ground, you can prove the prediction correct. The question is whether you are more likely than usual to find a quarter on the ground if you are expecting to find a treasure. It may be that once you hear such a prediction, your subconscious is more attuned to finding something even if you aren't consciously seeking it out. Prophecies are sometimes even more vague than that, though. Instead of telling you that you will a treasure, I might say, "A portion of your wealth will spring up from the ground." You could interpret that in such a way that finding a quarter makes it true, but your mind might also do a great many things with that statement. Maybe you will invest more in fossil fuels. Maybe you will plant a garden, so that you spend less on groceries. Maybe you will be entrepreneurial and leave your job to start a palm tree farm.
Of course, you may be thinking, "I wouldn't do anything at all. I don't believe in your ability to make such predictions." Fair enough. The trustworthiness of the source certainly would seem to be an issue. This is why biblical prophecy is so problematic. The empirical trustworthiness of the Bible is fairly low when it comes to prophecies. The problem is that people have proclaimed that the source is infallible, and therefore every bit of biblical prophecy that seems not to be true is interpreted as symbolic or yet to come. Each of these has its own pitfalls.
Interpreting biblical prophecy as symbolic is a convenient way of not having to address inaccuracies and false predictions. Perhaps it is convenient that there is no way to verify the symbolic meaning. If a hundred people point to a hundred different events as the "fulfillment" of a particular passage of prophecy, there is no way to determine which of them, if any, is "correct." We have to rely on how much we trust the person making the claim, and we have to decide whether the claim makes sense to us. We are relying on our own emotions and intellect to draw these conclusions, not the source of the prediction. There is no way to take the event back to a biblical author and say, "Is this what you meant?" In reality, biblical authors making predictions were probably either (a) commenting on events relevant to their own people in their own time, or (b) forecasting vague hopes for the future in order to quiet the minds of powerless oppressed people with wavering faith.
When we interpret biblical prophecy as "yet to come," we run into even more problems, however. Just like the person who would decide to start a palm tree farm if told, "A portion of your wealth will spring up from the ground," people can start looking for ways to make prophecies true. Or, at least, they can behave as if their interpretations of the prophecies are true -- as if all of their actions have foregone conclusions. Isaiah's prophecy that all peoples would stream to the "holy mountain" Jerusalem for wisdom and guidance from Yahweh was intended to offer comfort and hope to people, not to inform geopolitical decisions thousands of years into the future. Yet, there are some who continue to believe in the inevitability of this prophecy. If the interpretation is that this prophecy has not yet come to pass, this interpretation directly influences the way one views and deals with modern Israel and other nations in the Middle East. There is thus a dangerous potential for a misappropriated ancient text to inform military and political decisions, perhaps even overriding a clear sense of what would bring the greatest good to the greatest number of people.
Thus it is that Isaiah 29 is a dangerous piece of writing, not because the authors were malicious, but because they were wrapped up in their own ethnocentricity, and twenty-first century readers misapplying the words to themselves find justification for closed-mindedness and self-aggrandizement. Consider,
And the multitude of all the nations that fight against Ariel,In verse 2, Isaiah identifies Ariel as Jerusalem, and for twenty-first century people, this might be interpreted as the city of Jerusalem (although probably only the Jewish and Christian portions of the city!), the nation of Israel, or the whole of Christianity. Enemy nations might be interpreted literally or figuratively, but the gist of the prophecy is that what seem to be powerful foes will disappear like a dream. This will happen because of something Yahweh does -- because of a supernatural will -- and thus can be beyond the explanation or understanding of human beings. What would you decide to do in your life if you believed that everyone who could possibly oppose you would eventually just disappear? This could be a very empowering idea. However, some opposing forces can help us maintain our integrity. We could become quite bull-headed, failing to see the long-term consequences of our actions, failing to see how what we decide affects other people, if we took this mandate to extreme.
all that fight against her and her stronghold, and who distress her,
shall be like a dream, a vision of the night.
Just as when a hungry person dreams of eating
and wakes up still hungry,
or a thirsty person dreams of drinking
and wakes up faint, still thirsty,
so shall the multitude of all the nations be
that fight against Mount Zion. (Is 29:7-8)
The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord,Again, this seems quite nice. The neediest people shall have reason to celebrate, and there will be justice. The problem is that very few of us cast ourselves in the role of villain in our own story. We believe that we are the one in the right. We believe that we deserve to win our lawsuits. We are the meek and humble sufferers who will eventually be lifted up. And if that is how we cast ourselves, that means that the people who find fault with our way of thinking are the scoffers. Those who keep us from doing what we want (and from forcing others to do what we want) are the tyrants. If we have a promise that those scoffers and tyrants will be taken care of, then we have no reason to listen to their perspective now. If we have confidence that justice will eventually be done, then we can obviously (egotistically) trust that we will be exonerated.
and the neediest people shall exult in the Holy One of Israel.
For the tyrant shall be no more,
and the scoffer shall cease to be;
and those alert to do evil shall be cut off --
those who cause a person to lose a lawsuit,
who set a trap for the arbiter in the gate,
and without grounds deny justice to the one in the right. (Is 29:19-21)
Please bear in mind, I am not attempting to interpret the words of the authors of Isaiah as they intended them to be interpreted. I am not even attempting to provide an interpretation that is viable in light of the entirety of biblical scripture. I am simply demonstrating the way that prophecy can be twisted and manipulated into self-legitimizing "promises," based on what I have personally read and heard from believers. It is important to understand that there is no viable way to talk someone out of a belief or "debate someone into reasonableness" when they have confidence that their personal scoffers, enemies, and tyrants will one day vanish into nothing because of God.
One more short verse, the final one of the chapter: "And those who err in spirit will come to understanding, and those who grumble will accept instruction," (Is 29:24). This is, for some believers, a blatant promise that one day everyone else will understand things as they do. It is confirmation that they are right, and that everyone who has a different interpretation of reality is erring in spirit or grumbling, but only temporarily. Perseverance without questioning one's perception is thus made into a virtue.
I've alluded to a couple of problems with thinking that we know the future, but let me clearly state the three biggest ones that seem to emerge from trusting biblical prophecy as yet to come. Then, I want to propose a better option. The first big problem is that we can be thoughtless about our own actions and beliefs if we believe that we know the future. This even counts for thinking that we know about an afterlife. If we believe we know what's going to happen, we have less reason to be thoughtful about what we do and believe right now. When we are willing to examine our own beliefs and actions, we have the opportunity to grow. When we grow, we get better at being the kind of people we actually want to be. If we don't grow, we stagnate.
Second, we stop listening when we think we know what is going to happen. If we believe that we know the way to eternal life, we stop caring what anyone else thinks about it. If we believe we know the way to happiness, we stop listening to anyone else's ideas. Once we think we know what is going to happen, it seems like the only reason we have to listen to other people is to tell them that they are wrong if they disagree with us. We need other people. It isn't that case that other people are just useful tools for us to gain knowledge and can be discarded once we know all we need to know. First off, we never know all we could possibly learn from other people, but beside that, we need relationship one another as human beings. We need connection with one another. When we stop really listening, we stop connecting.
Finally, we might stop making a difference when we think we know what is going to happen. Belief in an afterlife is one of the greatest detractors to justice and equity in the world. If you believe that good people (whatever your definition of that is) will go to heaven for eternity, you have less reason to make sure that their life here on earth is worth living. "Those people may suffer now, but they'll be able to celebrate for eternity if they just believe as I believe." What drivel! Even the belief that God is going to take care of things here in this reality is a bit demotivating. If God's will will be done no matter what, then we have no reason to act. If we believe that God will take care of all our enemies and scoffers and tyrants, then we are probably under the impression that he will do that when he's good and ready, and we need not worry our little heads about it. Meanwhile, we can also just wait for God to take care of all the other problems we see around us. Hunger, violence, slavery, disease -- they seem like insurmountable challenges, and it's understandable why we would just want to believe that one day, they will supernaturally disappear. Human problems won't just go away. We have to act, to whatever degree we are capable, if we want to see a better world.
Since prophecies are so problematic (particularly since so few risky prophecies ever turn out to be true), and since we cannot know what's going to happen, we have to base our beliefs and our actions on something different. Believers and non-believers alike can do this. If there is an afterlife, you don't know anything about it. You might think or hope or believe some things about it, but you honestly only know about this reality. You don't know the future. You might be able to make some reasonable predictions, and you might hope for some less reasonable things, but you honestly do not know the future. Recognizing that is the first step.
One thing we can know is what we value. As I have repeated many times, we all have a deepest, most noble self that reflects our innate truth, beauty, and creativity. We also heap on a pile of lies and fears about ourselves, other people, and the world we share. We have to dismantle those fears and lies and recognize what we really value -- the principles that we most want to guide us. We can't know the future, because we haven't created it yet. And we can't create the future we most want unless we know what we value most.
This is the point at which our defensive mechanisms kick in and we get sarcastic. "What I value most is for all the idiots to just leave me alone." "What I really value is a warm day with a cool margarita when I can just kick back and relax." "I want to create a future where I keep my paycheck instead of paying more taxes than all those other people." When your mind starts in with those defensive routines, recognize them for what they are. You're trying to protect yourself from realizing what really matters most to you. If you recognize what really matters most to you, you might have to do something about it. You're trying to protect yourself from dreaming big. If you dream big, you might get disappointed or hurt.
Even though they had no control over how twenty-first century narcissistic believers would twist their words, the biblical prophets knew how to dream big, and they knew what they valued. They were products of their time -- more than 2500 years ago in the case of Isaiah's authors -- so their values may look a little different from ours. We can be just as bold, however, in casting vision for what could be. Casting vision isn't the same as claiming to know the future. Casting vision is saying, "This is what I wish the world were like, and this is what I'm willing to do to move it a little bit closer to that vision." Powerful vision isn't based on our fears or lies about ourselves and other people, and it isn't based on our defensive routines. Powerful vision is based on our deep guiding principles -- the things that we most want to guide our behavior and decisions, even though we often let other things get in the way.
Guiding principles aren't complicated. For me, the idea that all people have inherent worth is a guiding principle. I don't always carry that idea forward into my life as well as I would like, but my values are all tied back to that principle. As I cast vision for the future, that principle is at the heart of what I envision. Your guiding principles don't have to match mine, but whatever they are, your guiding principles and your values are what empower your vision for the kind of world you want to create. We cast vision and create a better world by starting in our own lives. If you envision a world with greater compassion, what needs to happen in your life to start making that a reality? If you envision a world where clean water is available to all, what do you need to do to move things in that direction?
What principles do you most want to guide your life?
What do you value most deeply?
What would a world built on those principles and values look like?
What can you do to allow your life to embody that vision?
We do not know the future. We create the future. We can choose to create a future based on our deeply held values, or we can continue forward on auto-pilot. I know which one seems most compelling to me.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Isaiah 27-28: Authentic Hope
We're going to push through to Isaiah 39, which recounts the illness and naivete of Hezekiah that we saw in 2 Kings and 2 Chronicles (about a year ago now). It seemed like a good idea to intersperse the books of prophets with the "historical" books that most clearly connect to them, but given the time it takes to get through a book like Isaiah, this may have been an ill-conceived plan. Still, we'll cover everything eventually, so we may as well continue through the break in Isaiah.
That being said, there's an awful lot that has already been said about the content of Isaiah, with the people of Judah seeing themselves and their religion as superior to all others, without much evidence on which to base that opinion. Isaiah 27 clearly expresses one of the main purposes of this book: to offer hope to people in a pretty hopeless situation. Isaiah 28 balances this with the assertion that hope has to be genuine and sincere in order to be meaningful. Clearly, the author(s) of these chapters believed their own words to be sincere and honest.
It's worth mentioning yet again that there is obvious figurative language going on here, particularly with regard to the sea dragon that Yahweh will kill with his "cruel" sword. Most folks will not look at this and assume an actual sword or an actual sea serpent. A great percentage of the Bible is written in this sort of figurative language, and yet for some reason, many people want to take as much of it as possible literally. Don't be over-simplistic when you read mythology or other ancient writing. Look for the meaning underneath the words and you'll learn a great deal more about the people who wrote the words.
In Isaiah 5, the imagery of a vineyard is used to suggest that the Israelites have fallen short of their calling to create a just and righteous society. This imagery is used again in Isaiah 27 to suggest that all is not lost. There is still hope. The authors forecast a time when Yahweh will guard Jerusalem and there will be no competitors to the city. Fortified cities will be ruins useful only for grazing cattle. If anyone opposes Yahweh in that time (produce something different than what he wants from his vineyard), he will destroy those people. Otherwise, everyone will have a splendid time.
What Yahweh apparently wants from people is a society built on justice, but the authors are also clear that Yahweh wants exclusive adoration as the people's supernatural. Everyone who goes against this monotheistic mandate will be destroyed. So, this idea of creating a just society is not because it will be better for everyone, but because direct assault from the deity will be the response to anything less. This hopeful vision has dark implications. This is not a vision of a time when everyone will get along peacefully because there is greater understanding, this is a vision of a time when people will have peace by force, when the supernatural will take direct action against those who act differently. This is fascism, pure and simple, with a supernatural in the role of supreme commander.
No wonder that the authors desired a different sort of flawless leadership. Isaiah 28 suggests that the religious and political leaders were of little use to the people. They spent their time in drunkenness and lies, and when they had any words of hope to offer, those words were hollow. The chapter indicates that suffering at the hands of enemies is punishment from Yahweh that has a fruitful purpose. However harsh the punishment, it would not last forever, and eventually the people of Judah would be of some use. They would be beaten into usefulness. Of course, this is not a message to individuals, but to the people as a collective. An individual life might not see any purpose behind the suffering, but hope lies in the story of one's people, not in one's personal story.
It is unfortunate that passages like this have been twisted and interpreted into a perverse exaltation of suffering. There are those who believe that suffering makes a person more holy or more honorable, that the experience of suffering is somehow useful in and of itself. Even worse, there are those who believe in a supernatural who desires that people suffer, because they are being purified for some greater work. This is complete rubbish. While it is true that some people come out of experiences of suffering strengthened and determined to do great things, there are many more people who simply suffer, reaping no benefit from the experience. Suffering happens, and some people are able to make sense of it and turn that experience into an asset. This should not be held up as an ideal, however. Needless suffering is not a blessing or a gift.
Moreover, suffering is never something that we should inflict on others, with the expectation that it will make them stronger. There is no supernatural glorification in human suffering, and there is no supernatural who desires human suffering. We experience suffering, and there are potentially some words of hope that can help us through that experience, even help us draw strength from the experience, but those words are not, "God wants you to suffer." Especially those words are not, "God wants you to suffer because he has something great in store for you." Not only is such a claim trite, it is dishonest. There is no god in control of our suffering or in control of what happens in the wake of our suffering.
Often natural processes cause suffering. Nature is unintelligent and has no emotional impulse toward people, so there is no greater meaning to natural suffering. Sometimes people get sick. Sometimes people are caught in an area of natural disaster. It is possible that people can make meaning from the suffering they experience, but the experience itself has only the meaning that we give it.
Other suffering is caused by human action. Some people inflict suffering on others. This is the sort of suffering that we might set our sights on ending. Most of the time, fear is the emotion behind suffering inflicted by human beings, not the tough love of a supernatural. Human beings do horrible things to one another, and it isn't part of a divine plan. People commit atrocities when they give their fear control. Again, we might learn to draw some personal strength from our experiences of suffering, but there is no greater meaning or message than what we give it.
Of course, some will claim that suffering through the pain of surgery is necessary for healing in some circumstances. Suffering the experience of childbirth is necessary for life to continue. Suffering through difficult classes is necessary for the process of learning to take place. Yes. Fine. Draw the definition of suffering as widely as you like. The authors of Isaiah were writing to people who were besieged by foreign armies to the point that many people starved to death or at least considered eating their own children. They had no place to put the bodies of those who died from lack of food or water, and there was no efficacious way to treat the diseases that erupted in a city when it swelled with all of the people who sought refuge in its walls. When the siege was finally broken, many survivors were enslaved by the conquering army, taken to a foreign land with a foreign language and a foreign culture to live out the rest of their days. Their entire lives were shattered. Isaiah says that this was because Yahweh had a plan. He caused this to happen because he was crushing them like grain for bread. This is not a palatable message of hope.
We do not have a supernatural who is going to take control one way or the other. No one will be exacting punishment or crushing us for greater usefulness, and no supernatural will be standing guard over us as we grow into just and compassionate people. There is no real hope in that myth. The real hope is with us. We are the hope of the human story, as individuals and as a collective. Our potential to act in a way that brings justice, equity, and compassion is hope for others. In our own lives hope lies in the understanding that things do not have to be as they are. Hope also springs from the recognition that no one deserves suffering. Our worth and identity are not based on the suffering we endure. Every person has inherent worth and dignity just by virtue of being human; the rest is a matter of experience.
Things do not have to be as they are. This is true in our personal lives as well as in larger systems of power. Whatever suffering that exists in the world because of human action, there is a way to address this suffering. When the government of Uganda recently passed a law against their LGBT citizens, the Quakers established a New Underground Railroad to get people out of immediate danger. This is one small example, but think about your own community. How many organizations exist to help alleviate systemic suffering? From solving the problem of homelessness to ending human trafficking, there are people collaborating right now to build a better world than what we see today.
This is perhaps the most important message of hope: We are stronger together. People are relational, and while we value our individuality, we can accomplish great things when we work together. No one deserves suffering, and yet we can only touch a small number of lives as individuals. When we join our voices and our strengths with others, however, we can become much more powerful forces for justice, equity, and compassion. Our ability to cooperate and collaborate offers profound hope.
Thus, in our own lives, we can be confident that we do not deserve suffering, that there is nothing about our worth or identity that makes it necessary for us to suffer. Our individual suffering does not have supernatural origins or purpose, but we can choose to give our experience meaning. In the lives of others, we can also be confident that suffering is not deserved. When we are able to have an influence in alleviating the suffering of another, we can be vessels of hope. When we stand and act together with others, we can embody hope on an even larger scale.
That being said, there's an awful lot that has already been said about the content of Isaiah, with the people of Judah seeing themselves and their religion as superior to all others, without much evidence on which to base that opinion. Isaiah 27 clearly expresses one of the main purposes of this book: to offer hope to people in a pretty hopeless situation. Isaiah 28 balances this with the assertion that hope has to be genuine and sincere in order to be meaningful. Clearly, the author(s) of these chapters believed their own words to be sincere and honest.
It's worth mentioning yet again that there is obvious figurative language going on here, particularly with regard to the sea dragon that Yahweh will kill with his "cruel" sword. Most folks will not look at this and assume an actual sword or an actual sea serpent. A great percentage of the Bible is written in this sort of figurative language, and yet for some reason, many people want to take as much of it as possible literally. Don't be over-simplistic when you read mythology or other ancient writing. Look for the meaning underneath the words and you'll learn a great deal more about the people who wrote the words.
In Isaiah 5, the imagery of a vineyard is used to suggest that the Israelites have fallen short of their calling to create a just and righteous society. This imagery is used again in Isaiah 27 to suggest that all is not lost. There is still hope. The authors forecast a time when Yahweh will guard Jerusalem and there will be no competitors to the city. Fortified cities will be ruins useful only for grazing cattle. If anyone opposes Yahweh in that time (produce something different than what he wants from his vineyard), he will destroy those people. Otherwise, everyone will have a splendid time.
What Yahweh apparently wants from people is a society built on justice, but the authors are also clear that Yahweh wants exclusive adoration as the people's supernatural. Everyone who goes against this monotheistic mandate will be destroyed. So, this idea of creating a just society is not because it will be better for everyone, but because direct assault from the deity will be the response to anything less. This hopeful vision has dark implications. This is not a vision of a time when everyone will get along peacefully because there is greater understanding, this is a vision of a time when people will have peace by force, when the supernatural will take direct action against those who act differently. This is fascism, pure and simple, with a supernatural in the role of supreme commander.
No wonder that the authors desired a different sort of flawless leadership. Isaiah 28 suggests that the religious and political leaders were of little use to the people. They spent their time in drunkenness and lies, and when they had any words of hope to offer, those words were hollow. The chapter indicates that suffering at the hands of enemies is punishment from Yahweh that has a fruitful purpose. However harsh the punishment, it would not last forever, and eventually the people of Judah would be of some use. They would be beaten into usefulness. Of course, this is not a message to individuals, but to the people as a collective. An individual life might not see any purpose behind the suffering, but hope lies in the story of one's people, not in one's personal story.
It is unfortunate that passages like this have been twisted and interpreted into a perverse exaltation of suffering. There are those who believe that suffering makes a person more holy or more honorable, that the experience of suffering is somehow useful in and of itself. Even worse, there are those who believe in a supernatural who desires that people suffer, because they are being purified for some greater work. This is complete rubbish. While it is true that some people come out of experiences of suffering strengthened and determined to do great things, there are many more people who simply suffer, reaping no benefit from the experience. Suffering happens, and some people are able to make sense of it and turn that experience into an asset. This should not be held up as an ideal, however. Needless suffering is not a blessing or a gift.
Moreover, suffering is never something that we should inflict on others, with the expectation that it will make them stronger. There is no supernatural glorification in human suffering, and there is no supernatural who desires human suffering. We experience suffering, and there are potentially some words of hope that can help us through that experience, even help us draw strength from the experience, but those words are not, "God wants you to suffer." Especially those words are not, "God wants you to suffer because he has something great in store for you." Not only is such a claim trite, it is dishonest. There is no god in control of our suffering or in control of what happens in the wake of our suffering.
Often natural processes cause suffering. Nature is unintelligent and has no emotional impulse toward people, so there is no greater meaning to natural suffering. Sometimes people get sick. Sometimes people are caught in an area of natural disaster. It is possible that people can make meaning from the suffering they experience, but the experience itself has only the meaning that we give it.
Other suffering is caused by human action. Some people inflict suffering on others. This is the sort of suffering that we might set our sights on ending. Most of the time, fear is the emotion behind suffering inflicted by human beings, not the tough love of a supernatural. Human beings do horrible things to one another, and it isn't part of a divine plan. People commit atrocities when they give their fear control. Again, we might learn to draw some personal strength from our experiences of suffering, but there is no greater meaning or message than what we give it.
Of course, some will claim that suffering through the pain of surgery is necessary for healing in some circumstances. Suffering the experience of childbirth is necessary for life to continue. Suffering through difficult classes is necessary for the process of learning to take place. Yes. Fine. Draw the definition of suffering as widely as you like. The authors of Isaiah were writing to people who were besieged by foreign armies to the point that many people starved to death or at least considered eating their own children. They had no place to put the bodies of those who died from lack of food or water, and there was no efficacious way to treat the diseases that erupted in a city when it swelled with all of the people who sought refuge in its walls. When the siege was finally broken, many survivors were enslaved by the conquering army, taken to a foreign land with a foreign language and a foreign culture to live out the rest of their days. Their entire lives were shattered. Isaiah says that this was because Yahweh had a plan. He caused this to happen because he was crushing them like grain for bread. This is not a palatable message of hope.
We do not have a supernatural who is going to take control one way or the other. No one will be exacting punishment or crushing us for greater usefulness, and no supernatural will be standing guard over us as we grow into just and compassionate people. There is no real hope in that myth. The real hope is with us. We are the hope of the human story, as individuals and as a collective. Our potential to act in a way that brings justice, equity, and compassion is hope for others. In our own lives hope lies in the understanding that things do not have to be as they are. Hope also springs from the recognition that no one deserves suffering. Our worth and identity are not based on the suffering we endure. Every person has inherent worth and dignity just by virtue of being human; the rest is a matter of experience.
Things do not have to be as they are. This is true in our personal lives as well as in larger systems of power. Whatever suffering that exists in the world because of human action, there is a way to address this suffering. When the government of Uganda recently passed a law against their LGBT citizens, the Quakers established a New Underground Railroad to get people out of immediate danger. This is one small example, but think about your own community. How many organizations exist to help alleviate systemic suffering? From solving the problem of homelessness to ending human trafficking, there are people collaborating right now to build a better world than what we see today.
This is perhaps the most important message of hope: We are stronger together. People are relational, and while we value our individuality, we can accomplish great things when we work together. No one deserves suffering, and yet we can only touch a small number of lives as individuals. When we join our voices and our strengths with others, however, we can become much more powerful forces for justice, equity, and compassion. Our ability to cooperate and collaborate offers profound hope.
Thus, in our own lives, we can be confident that we do not deserve suffering, that there is nothing about our worth or identity that makes it necessary for us to suffer. Our individual suffering does not have supernatural origins or purpose, but we can choose to give our experience meaning. In the lives of others, we can also be confident that suffering is not deserved. When we are able to have an influence in alleviating the suffering of another, we can be vessels of hope. When we stand and act together with others, we can embody hope on an even larger scale.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Mark 16: The Persistence of Belief
This is how the gospel of Mark ends in the oldest manuscripts:
The last chapter of Mark was eventually extended to include more spectacular reports, alluding to an exorcism story about Mary Magdalene that doesn't otherwise make an appearance in the Bible, snake handling, faith healing, and the ability of believers to consume poison without being harmed. As frustrating as I find some Christians to be on occasion, I cannot advocate drinking poison or playing with cottonmouths. The absence of any credibly documented cases of faith healing and the continued deaths of pastors who dance with rattlesnakes (the most recent case being February of this year in Kentucky) should be enough to suggest that the "longer ending" of Mark may not be a helpful prescription of religious practice.
Of course, the authors who continued to add to the gospel of Mark were doing what we all tend to do. When the report seemed unsatisfactory, they "improved" it so that it matched what they wanted to believe. When reality doesn't match what we want it to be, we often attempt to explain things -- or even manipulate things -- so that what we want to believe still seems plausible. If I really want to believe that aliens visit me every night and implant cosmic secrets in my kidneys, it doesn't matter if you videotape night after night of me sleeping undisturbed. I'll embellish my belief to grant that the aliens must be invisible, or at least undetectable by video technology. When we really want to believe in something, we are often undeterred by reality.
This can be amusing if we keep to reading horoscopes, tossing salt over our shoulders, and wearing our lucky socks when we play softball. Our beliefs that ignore evidence sometimes lead us to harm ourselves and other people however. Relying on a supernatural to heal illnesses instead of relying on competent medical professionals is one way that beliefs cause harm every day in the United States. Another type of evidence-resistance belief is the prejudice that we hold toward people of different religions, ethnicities, or sexualities. Once we are committed to the belief that Muslims all hate America, no amount of evidence to the contrary (which exists in abundance, by the way) will convince us otherwise. We have to be willing for our beliefs to evolve in order for our view of the world to be brought into greater alignment with what is actually so. We have to be willing for legitimate evidence to weigh more heavily than what we imagine might well be the case. Moreover, we have to be sharp enough to be willing to distinguish legitimate evidence from propaganda.
Throughout this spring, I participated in a course on Christian ethics. What I concluded was that there is no such thing as explicitly "Christian" ethics. We know how people should be treated, and whether we are Atheist, Humanist, Jewish, Wiccan, Muslim, Buddhist, Christian, Sikh, or otherwise, our basic understanding of what constitutes ethical behavior is more or less consistent. We can and do invent plenty of reasons to justify unethical behavior, but we generally know what we ought to do even when we defiantly choose to do something else. Christians may have a special reason for choosing to be ethical, but other groups of people have equally compelling different reasons. No one has cornered the market on ethical behavior.
There is another important reason I've concluded that there is no such thing as "Christian" ethics, at least as the concept was portrayed in the course I took. Christians are not universally consistently ethical. If Christianity in and of itself was enough to make a person more ethical, the past two thousand years would be filled with evidence that Christian people were more ethical than non-Christian people. It simply isn't so. Christian people are as prone to be ethical (or unethical) as people of any other belief system. Christianity isn't the determining factor; it doesn't really impact one's ability to be ethical. From a Christian perspective, however, it would seem to be very easy to dismiss all evidence that contradicts a special claim to ethical or moral identity. Theologians invent terms like "anonymous Christian" for those people who do not accept the premises of Christianity, yet still behave in a way that is seen to be congruent with the example of Jesus. Yet, it isn't that they are "anonymous Christians;" they are simply human beings choosing to live by an ethical standard that is actually congruent with every major religion (and some minor ones, too).
Nearly every theologian studied in this Christian ethics course expressed some version of the same fallacy: "One cannot be ethical unless one is Christian." "One cannot love others without recognizing Jesus as lord." "One cannot care about the well-being of one's community without believing in the sovereignty of the Christian God." "One cannot be moral without accepting the supernatural premises of Christianity." "One cannot be fully human and also be Atheist." When these are the premises that are hammered into a Christian's brain, it's no wonder so many people are scared for the future of their country and their world if there are more and more non-believers.
The fact of the matter is that believers behave as unethically as non-believers, and that non-believers behave as ethically as believers. When we embellish our beliefs in order to stay rooted in familiar assertions despite ample evidence that we need to shift our beliefs a bit, we live apart from reality. We try to engage the world from a false premise. That's a frustrating endeavor no matter who you are. Reality doesn't change just because you believe it ought to be different. All of this effort to make the stories we want to tell seem more true actually prevents us from doing the things that could create the kind of world we most want to live in. Willfully ignoring or misinterpreting reality is not going to get us any closer to a best possible version of ourselves.
Wanting people to believe what we believe is a plea for safety. We want to be right, because being wrong feels bad. We don't want to feel shame; we don't want to be humiliated. Being right -- insisting that we are right no matter what evidence suggests -- allows us to avoid shame and humiliation. The problem is that we are always going to be wrong about something. There is no shame in that. Being wrong means we get to learn and grow into someone better than the person we were when we woke up this morning. Listening to other people's beliefs and listening to their challenges to our beliefs helps us sharpen our perspectives and be more in line with what actually is. We can't create a better world if we are imagining the world to be a completely different place than what it actually is.
And we all want to contribute to a better world. Deep down inside, beneath whatever fears and lies we have cultivated over the course of our lives, we all want pretty much the same thing. We don't have to do dangerous and stupid things to prove that we are right. We can choose to acknowledge that all the people around us are potential co-creators rather than threats. What we believe about people matters, because it determines how we're going to treat them. What we believe about ourselves matters, because it determines how we're going to engage in life. Whether there was an actual resurrection doesn't matter. Whether seven demons inhabited Mary Magdalene doesn't matter. When we try to debate those sorts of things, no one gains any ground. If we are willing to recognize that our beliefs -- precious though they may be to us -- are just one way of looking at the world, we might be open to seeing the merits of other perspectives. This helps us see more clearly, and it helps us express our own perspectives more clearly, without demanding agreement. When we can do that, we can have genuine partnership with other human beings. Isn't that worth more than insisting on something that we have no way of proving or demonstrating?
I will say one more thing about the Christian ethics course. If everyone who claimed to believe that the example of Jesus was worth following actually lived by the example of Jesus, then there might be something the theologians could point to. It would be really something if every Humanist practiced seeing the humanity in everyone, if every Christian practiced seeing Christ in everyone, if every Jew, Hindu, Muslim, Wiccan, and on down the line practiced seeing the divine in everyone. If that were how we allowed our particular belief systems to define how we engage in human relationships, the world would be a different (better) place. And we'd all actually be seeing the same thing when we look at one another: Sacred human beings. People just like us in the ways that matter most.
When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. 2 And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. 3 They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” 4 When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. 5 As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. 6 But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” 8 So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.Someone didn't think that was a very good ending, however, so at some later point, this was added: "And all that had been commanded them they told briefly to those around Peter. And afterward Jesus himself sent out through them, from east to west, the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation."
The last chapter of Mark was eventually extended to include more spectacular reports, alluding to an exorcism story about Mary Magdalene that doesn't otherwise make an appearance in the Bible, snake handling, faith healing, and the ability of believers to consume poison without being harmed. As frustrating as I find some Christians to be on occasion, I cannot advocate drinking poison or playing with cottonmouths. The absence of any credibly documented cases of faith healing and the continued deaths of pastors who dance with rattlesnakes (the most recent case being February of this year in Kentucky) should be enough to suggest that the "longer ending" of Mark may not be a helpful prescription of religious practice.
Of course, the authors who continued to add to the gospel of Mark were doing what we all tend to do. When the report seemed unsatisfactory, they "improved" it so that it matched what they wanted to believe. When reality doesn't match what we want it to be, we often attempt to explain things -- or even manipulate things -- so that what we want to believe still seems plausible. If I really want to believe that aliens visit me every night and implant cosmic secrets in my kidneys, it doesn't matter if you videotape night after night of me sleeping undisturbed. I'll embellish my belief to grant that the aliens must be invisible, or at least undetectable by video technology. When we really want to believe in something, we are often undeterred by reality.
This can be amusing if we keep to reading horoscopes, tossing salt over our shoulders, and wearing our lucky socks when we play softball. Our beliefs that ignore evidence sometimes lead us to harm ourselves and other people however. Relying on a supernatural to heal illnesses instead of relying on competent medical professionals is one way that beliefs cause harm every day in the United States. Another type of evidence-resistance belief is the prejudice that we hold toward people of different religions, ethnicities, or sexualities. Once we are committed to the belief that Muslims all hate America, no amount of evidence to the contrary (which exists in abundance, by the way) will convince us otherwise. We have to be willing for our beliefs to evolve in order for our view of the world to be brought into greater alignment with what is actually so. We have to be willing for legitimate evidence to weigh more heavily than what we imagine might well be the case. Moreover, we have to be sharp enough to be willing to distinguish legitimate evidence from propaganda.
Throughout this spring, I participated in a course on Christian ethics. What I concluded was that there is no such thing as explicitly "Christian" ethics. We know how people should be treated, and whether we are Atheist, Humanist, Jewish, Wiccan, Muslim, Buddhist, Christian, Sikh, or otherwise, our basic understanding of what constitutes ethical behavior is more or less consistent. We can and do invent plenty of reasons to justify unethical behavior, but we generally know what we ought to do even when we defiantly choose to do something else. Christians may have a special reason for choosing to be ethical, but other groups of people have equally compelling different reasons. No one has cornered the market on ethical behavior.
There is another important reason I've concluded that there is no such thing as "Christian" ethics, at least as the concept was portrayed in the course I took. Christians are not universally consistently ethical. If Christianity in and of itself was enough to make a person more ethical, the past two thousand years would be filled with evidence that Christian people were more ethical than non-Christian people. It simply isn't so. Christian people are as prone to be ethical (or unethical) as people of any other belief system. Christianity isn't the determining factor; it doesn't really impact one's ability to be ethical. From a Christian perspective, however, it would seem to be very easy to dismiss all evidence that contradicts a special claim to ethical or moral identity. Theologians invent terms like "anonymous Christian" for those people who do not accept the premises of Christianity, yet still behave in a way that is seen to be congruent with the example of Jesus. Yet, it isn't that they are "anonymous Christians;" they are simply human beings choosing to live by an ethical standard that is actually congruent with every major religion (and some minor ones, too).
Nearly every theologian studied in this Christian ethics course expressed some version of the same fallacy: "One cannot be ethical unless one is Christian." "One cannot love others without recognizing Jesus as lord." "One cannot care about the well-being of one's community without believing in the sovereignty of the Christian God." "One cannot be moral without accepting the supernatural premises of Christianity." "One cannot be fully human and also be Atheist." When these are the premises that are hammered into a Christian's brain, it's no wonder so many people are scared for the future of their country and their world if there are more and more non-believers.
The fact of the matter is that believers behave as unethically as non-believers, and that non-believers behave as ethically as believers. When we embellish our beliefs in order to stay rooted in familiar assertions despite ample evidence that we need to shift our beliefs a bit, we live apart from reality. We try to engage the world from a false premise. That's a frustrating endeavor no matter who you are. Reality doesn't change just because you believe it ought to be different. All of this effort to make the stories we want to tell seem more true actually prevents us from doing the things that could create the kind of world we most want to live in. Willfully ignoring or misinterpreting reality is not going to get us any closer to a best possible version of ourselves.
Wanting people to believe what we believe is a plea for safety. We want to be right, because being wrong feels bad. We don't want to feel shame; we don't want to be humiliated. Being right -- insisting that we are right no matter what evidence suggests -- allows us to avoid shame and humiliation. The problem is that we are always going to be wrong about something. There is no shame in that. Being wrong means we get to learn and grow into someone better than the person we were when we woke up this morning. Listening to other people's beliefs and listening to their challenges to our beliefs helps us sharpen our perspectives and be more in line with what actually is. We can't create a better world if we are imagining the world to be a completely different place than what it actually is.
And we all want to contribute to a better world. Deep down inside, beneath whatever fears and lies we have cultivated over the course of our lives, we all want pretty much the same thing. We don't have to do dangerous and stupid things to prove that we are right. We can choose to acknowledge that all the people around us are potential co-creators rather than threats. What we believe about people matters, because it determines how we're going to treat them. What we believe about ourselves matters, because it determines how we're going to engage in life. Whether there was an actual resurrection doesn't matter. Whether seven demons inhabited Mary Magdalene doesn't matter. When we try to debate those sorts of things, no one gains any ground. If we are willing to recognize that our beliefs -- precious though they may be to us -- are just one way of looking at the world, we might be open to seeing the merits of other perspectives. This helps us see more clearly, and it helps us express our own perspectives more clearly, without demanding agreement. When we can do that, we can have genuine partnership with other human beings. Isn't that worth more than insisting on something that we have no way of proving or demonstrating?
I will say one more thing about the Christian ethics course. If everyone who claimed to believe that the example of Jesus was worth following actually lived by the example of Jesus, then there might be something the theologians could point to. It would be really something if every Humanist practiced seeing the humanity in everyone, if every Christian practiced seeing Christ in everyone, if every Jew, Hindu, Muslim, Wiccan, and on down the line practiced seeing the divine in everyone. If that were how we allowed our particular belief systems to define how we engage in human relationships, the world would be a different (better) place. And we'd all actually be seeing the same thing when we look at one another: Sacred human beings. People just like us in the ways that matter most.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
2 Kings 17: Creating Our Reality
The kingdom of Israel fell to the Assyrians in 722 BCE, and the Israelites were removed from the land and resettled elsewhere in the Assyrian Empire. 2 Kings 17 suggests a political reason and a spiritual reason for the event. Politically, King Hoshea thought he could extract himself from his role as vassal to the Assyrian emperor if he pledged loyalty to a king of Egypt. There's no way of knowing why he thought that would be better. Ultimately, it didn't matter, because Shalmaneser found out about the betrayal and responded with military action. He removed the Israelites from their land and moved in exiles from other places within the empire. This separation of people from their attachment to geographic sites was intended to preserve peace and limit the potential for uprisings within the empire.
Shalmaneser's actions make considerable sense. People today often behave the same way, whether it is people in certain positions of political power or people in positions of economic power. From a certain angle, multinational corporations bear some striking similarities to the empires of the Ancient Near East. The logic of the emperor's attempt to preserve power and docile compliance within his domain is enough to explain the circumstances without adding any supernatural reasons into the mix.
The Bible being a document of a superstitious time and people, however, places more emphasis on why the Israelites themselves were to blame, namely because of their spiritual infidelity. It is striking to look back at the development of their theology, from a mythology around a deity who made repeated unconditional promises to Abram about the land his descendants would occupy, to a religious construct that included unfulfilled (albeit vague) blessings for good behavior and death penalty curses for bad behavior, to a social commentary about why bad things happen to a people who are supposedly chosen and beloved by an omnipotent deity. Anything bad that happens can thus be blamed on human behavior, which as it turns out is pretty close to the truth when it's put in such general terms. There may be some disagreement about exactly which bad behavior brought about the undesirable consequences, but at least there is a bit of honesty in recognizing that the results people experience in their lives are largely consequences of their own actions.
Yet, much of what happened to the people of Israel was not so much a consequence of their actions as it was a consequence of their leader's actions. Their king did something that caused the entire country to be overthrown and displaced. It doesn't seem fair that one person's poor decision making skills wind up costing so many people so much, but that's what happens in systems of government, whether they are democracies or monarchies. We cannot control a lot of things about our circumstances, but we can control who we are in the midst of those circumstances.
What can we draw from this spiritual justification of a nation's failure, then? How can we translate this idea that we face a decision between serving a benevolent and righteous supernatural or committing destructive acts of spiritual infidelity or idolatry? With a bit of translation, it actually makes for some very useful observations. The historians of Kings are partially right when they suggest that the people of Israel created their own reality of destruction and exile. That's a truth worth exploring.
Even for the authors of this biased history, it was obvious that the people who resettled the lands of the exiled Israelites were creating their own gods. It just wasn't as easy for them to look at their own god as a human invention. We create idols, too, and more often than not those idols originate from our fears, our insecurities, the lies we believe about ourselves, other people, and reality. We look outside of ourselves for a sense of purpose and well-being, idolizing money or titles or power or significance. We create destructive habits because we fail to recognize that so many of the things we think we value are actually valueless. We spend so much time seeking after some external means of alleviating our irrational fears that forget to examine our own selves, our own deep and abiding values, our own ideals and principles that got buried beneath piles of vows about what we must and must not do, assumptions about what is possible or impossible, and lies about how we are either not enough or better than.
If we want to encounter divinity, we might want to spend some honest moments looking within ourselves. Chances are, we already know what we want our lives to be about. We already know what we actually value. Those things are sometimes challenging; they might take a lot of work and we might have to dismantle a lot of fears and false beliefs to really engage them. But when we dig into real meaningful values that engage our sense of connection with people, that tap into our true capabilities and passions, that inspire us to envision a better life and a better world characterized by justice and compassion, we are tapping into something more powerful than any idols we can set up in our lives.
We cannot honestly improve our lives, the lives of other people, or the world around us by being preoccupied with judgments about ourselves or other people, fears about scarcity or insignificance, or lies about our own brokenness or weakness. Human beings may be well practiced at escalating anxiety and reactivity, but there are other options for how we connect with our deepest, most noble, visionary selves. We have the opportunity to bring forth something inspiring by the way we live and the choices we make. We can honor a deeper truth than where our fears and assumptions lead us. We are creative by nature, and thus we are creators by nature. We choose what we create.
Shalmaneser's actions make considerable sense. People today often behave the same way, whether it is people in certain positions of political power or people in positions of economic power. From a certain angle, multinational corporations bear some striking similarities to the empires of the Ancient Near East. The logic of the emperor's attempt to preserve power and docile compliance within his domain is enough to explain the circumstances without adding any supernatural reasons into the mix.
The Bible being a document of a superstitious time and people, however, places more emphasis on why the Israelites themselves were to blame, namely because of their spiritual infidelity. It is striking to look back at the development of their theology, from a mythology around a deity who made repeated unconditional promises to Abram about the land his descendants would occupy, to a religious construct that included unfulfilled (albeit vague) blessings for good behavior and death penalty curses for bad behavior, to a social commentary about why bad things happen to a people who are supposedly chosen and beloved by an omnipotent deity. Anything bad that happens can thus be blamed on human behavior, which as it turns out is pretty close to the truth when it's put in such general terms. There may be some disagreement about exactly which bad behavior brought about the undesirable consequences, but at least there is a bit of honesty in recognizing that the results people experience in their lives are largely consequences of their own actions.
Yet, much of what happened to the people of Israel was not so much a consequence of their actions as it was a consequence of their leader's actions. Their king did something that caused the entire country to be overthrown and displaced. It doesn't seem fair that one person's poor decision making skills wind up costing so many people so much, but that's what happens in systems of government, whether they are democracies or monarchies. We cannot control a lot of things about our circumstances, but we can control who we are in the midst of those circumstances.
What can we draw from this spiritual justification of a nation's failure, then? How can we translate this idea that we face a decision between serving a benevolent and righteous supernatural or committing destructive acts of spiritual infidelity or idolatry? With a bit of translation, it actually makes for some very useful observations. The historians of Kings are partially right when they suggest that the people of Israel created their own reality of destruction and exile. That's a truth worth exploring.
Even for the authors of this biased history, it was obvious that the people who resettled the lands of the exiled Israelites were creating their own gods. It just wasn't as easy for them to look at their own god as a human invention. We create idols, too, and more often than not those idols originate from our fears, our insecurities, the lies we believe about ourselves, other people, and reality. We look outside of ourselves for a sense of purpose and well-being, idolizing money or titles or power or significance. We create destructive habits because we fail to recognize that so many of the things we think we value are actually valueless. We spend so much time seeking after some external means of alleviating our irrational fears that forget to examine our own selves, our own deep and abiding values, our own ideals and principles that got buried beneath piles of vows about what we must and must not do, assumptions about what is possible or impossible, and lies about how we are either not enough or better than.
If we want to encounter divinity, we might want to spend some honest moments looking within ourselves. Chances are, we already know what we want our lives to be about. We already know what we actually value. Those things are sometimes challenging; they might take a lot of work and we might have to dismantle a lot of fears and false beliefs to really engage them. But when we dig into real meaningful values that engage our sense of connection with people, that tap into our true capabilities and passions, that inspire us to envision a better life and a better world characterized by justice and compassion, we are tapping into something more powerful than any idols we can set up in our lives.
We cannot honestly improve our lives, the lives of other people, or the world around us by being preoccupied with judgments about ourselves or other people, fears about scarcity or insignificance, or lies about our own brokenness or weakness. Human beings may be well practiced at escalating anxiety and reactivity, but there are other options for how we connect with our deepest, most noble, visionary selves. We have the opportunity to bring forth something inspiring by the way we live and the choices we make. We can honor a deeper truth than where our fears and assumptions lead us. We are creative by nature, and thus we are creators by nature. We choose what we create.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
2 Chronicles 26: Entitlement, Fear of Irrelevance, and Spiritual Leprosy
I am fairly talented at a few things. Yet, when I see a real expert doing something impressive -- something that person has most likely practiced doing for thousands and thousands of hours -- there are times when I think, "I wish I could do that." Maybe that's indicative of typical human dissatisfaction, or maybe it's based on some imagined system in which some areas of expertise are more valuable than others. Perhaps we sometimes devalue those things that come easily to us, or those things that are expected of us, and convince ourselves that we need to diversify, expand our areas of competence, continually become more. The implication is that we are not enough -- that, whatever we are able to do today, we are on the brink of being irrelevant.
Consider 2 Kings 15, in which the historian runs through a series of rulers of Judah and Israel spanning about 50 years in one rapid fire chapter. The first of these is Azariah, or Uzziah, who gets a much lengthier treatment by the Chronicler in 2 Chronicles 25. The Hebrew scriptures claim that Uzziah was king of Judah for 52 years, but it may have been closer to 40 years. Historians often have a difficult time making biblical chronology line up with what is known about actual history. All told, he was a pretty good ruler -- until (according to the story) being king wasn't enough.
Uzziah saw that people were cared for in Judah, maintaining the country with a sense of justice and integrity. He brought a few neighboring nations under Judah's control through military force, which brought in more resources in the form of taxes from those conquered peoples, and Uzziah used Judah's resources to build protective towers for his people and to provide cisterns for vinedressers and farmers. Then, one day, at the height of his strength, he decided that he would do the job of the priests, and (again, according to the story) was struck with leprosy that lasted the rest of his life. Due to the stigma against leprosy at the time, he was ostracized from his people.
Maybe Uzziah was acting out of a sense of entitlement. Maybe he thought, "I'm the king; I can do whatever I want." Or maybe he believed at some level that he was irrelevant. It seems far-fetched, given everything that he accomplished for his nation, but some of the most powerful people develop unexpected self-esteem issues. Whatever his motivation, Uzziah's actions robbed himself of the satisfaction of ruling Judah, and it robbed the people he served of his competent leadership. In fact, looking ahead to the brief account of Jotham (Uzziah's son) in 2 Chronicles 27, Jotham was an upstanding fellow, but he didn't have much moral or ethical influence over the people he ruled. When Uzziah made a misstep, it affected a lot of people.
Some would say that this is true of all leaders -- that whatever a leader does has an impact on a lot of other people. I would say that this is true of everyone. We just notice it more in the lives of more visible people. None of us is irrelevant, and as long as we are connected to other people, we cannot become irrelevant. A society does not thrive because it is comprised of individuals who can do everything equally well. A society thrives because many people who have individual skills and talents are meaningfully connected to one another. Forging deeper connections with people is more beneficial than entertaining fears of irrelevance.
At the same time, we are also in danger of believing that we are entitled to special treatment. We don't like thinking that we may be slighted or cheated out of some opportunity or privilege. Uzziah may have thought that he could do things that other people shouldn't be allowed to do, just because he was king. Some people today think that they deserve special treatment for all sorts of reasons. Others think that their children deserve special treatment, which is a sort of entitlement by proxy, I suppose. Some people are powerful or persuasive enough to benefit from their sense of entitlement. This might even trigger a sense of entitlement in other people -- people who think that they are suffering an injustice because they missed out on some opportunity or privilege. For some reason, we can all fall prey to a belief that we deserve more than we have.
A society cannot support such attitudes indefinitely, though. At some point, we must recognize our own abundance and strive for equity on a larger scale rather than feed our individual sense of entitlement. When we cry, "It's not fair!" about a social injustice, it carries a little more weight than when we are commenting on the circumstances of our own lives. One of the essential ingredients to a commendable society in the Hebrew scriptures is justice, which means that all people are treated equally. Ideally, this even meant that debts should be forgiven after a certain amount of time and that the people of Judah should not keep fellow Jews as slaves. Judah didn't live up to this ideal in practical reality, but throughout the prophets there is a cry for justice and equity. This did not mean that everyone looked out for themselves and defended their own personal entitlement to equal treatment; it meant that people were supposed to look out for one another. The intention was that every individual would be intentional about treating people with equity and compassion.
We are not likely to be stricken with leprosy, but we can suffer a kind of spiritual leprosy -- a weakening of our sense of self and our relationships with other people that can even be contagious. There are some real negative consequences to constantly fighting irrelevancy or defending what we think we deserve. We will always see people who are highly capable in ways that we are not. We will always be able to find some way in which somebody "got away with" something or received some opportunity or privilege that we envy. Being driven by fear or a sense of entitlement will only yield more frustration and anger for us, though. Looking around in our lives for ways in which we can bring equity and compassion forward for others not only engages us in creatively using our unique capabilities in highly relevant ways, but it has the potential to transform the lives of other people. This, in turn, can ultimately lead to a more equitable society, which benefits everyone.
At the core of every person is a deep awareness of truth, an undeniable beauty, and a phenomenal reserve of creativity. No person can truly become irrelevant. At the same time, no person truly deserves more than any other person. When we recognize the inherent value of ourselves and of every person around us, we can engage our creativity in profoundly satisfying and meaningful ways. We can create something that can never be built from fears about ourselves or a preoccupation with what we think we deserve.
What are you building?
Consider 2 Kings 15, in which the historian runs through a series of rulers of Judah and Israel spanning about 50 years in one rapid fire chapter. The first of these is Azariah, or Uzziah, who gets a much lengthier treatment by the Chronicler in 2 Chronicles 25. The Hebrew scriptures claim that Uzziah was king of Judah for 52 years, but it may have been closer to 40 years. Historians often have a difficult time making biblical chronology line up with what is known about actual history. All told, he was a pretty good ruler -- until (according to the story) being king wasn't enough.
Uzziah saw that people were cared for in Judah, maintaining the country with a sense of justice and integrity. He brought a few neighboring nations under Judah's control through military force, which brought in more resources in the form of taxes from those conquered peoples, and Uzziah used Judah's resources to build protective towers for his people and to provide cisterns for vinedressers and farmers. Then, one day, at the height of his strength, he decided that he would do the job of the priests, and (again, according to the story) was struck with leprosy that lasted the rest of his life. Due to the stigma against leprosy at the time, he was ostracized from his people.
Maybe Uzziah was acting out of a sense of entitlement. Maybe he thought, "I'm the king; I can do whatever I want." Or maybe he believed at some level that he was irrelevant. It seems far-fetched, given everything that he accomplished for his nation, but some of the most powerful people develop unexpected self-esteem issues. Whatever his motivation, Uzziah's actions robbed himself of the satisfaction of ruling Judah, and it robbed the people he served of his competent leadership. In fact, looking ahead to the brief account of Jotham (Uzziah's son) in 2 Chronicles 27, Jotham was an upstanding fellow, but he didn't have much moral or ethical influence over the people he ruled. When Uzziah made a misstep, it affected a lot of people.
Some would say that this is true of all leaders -- that whatever a leader does has an impact on a lot of other people. I would say that this is true of everyone. We just notice it more in the lives of more visible people. None of us is irrelevant, and as long as we are connected to other people, we cannot become irrelevant. A society does not thrive because it is comprised of individuals who can do everything equally well. A society thrives because many people who have individual skills and talents are meaningfully connected to one another. Forging deeper connections with people is more beneficial than entertaining fears of irrelevance.
At the same time, we are also in danger of believing that we are entitled to special treatment. We don't like thinking that we may be slighted or cheated out of some opportunity or privilege. Uzziah may have thought that he could do things that other people shouldn't be allowed to do, just because he was king. Some people today think that they deserve special treatment for all sorts of reasons. Others think that their children deserve special treatment, which is a sort of entitlement by proxy, I suppose. Some people are powerful or persuasive enough to benefit from their sense of entitlement. This might even trigger a sense of entitlement in other people -- people who think that they are suffering an injustice because they missed out on some opportunity or privilege. For some reason, we can all fall prey to a belief that we deserve more than we have.
A society cannot support such attitudes indefinitely, though. At some point, we must recognize our own abundance and strive for equity on a larger scale rather than feed our individual sense of entitlement. When we cry, "It's not fair!" about a social injustice, it carries a little more weight than when we are commenting on the circumstances of our own lives. One of the essential ingredients to a commendable society in the Hebrew scriptures is justice, which means that all people are treated equally. Ideally, this even meant that debts should be forgiven after a certain amount of time and that the people of Judah should not keep fellow Jews as slaves. Judah didn't live up to this ideal in practical reality, but throughout the prophets there is a cry for justice and equity. This did not mean that everyone looked out for themselves and defended their own personal entitlement to equal treatment; it meant that people were supposed to look out for one another. The intention was that every individual would be intentional about treating people with equity and compassion.
We are not likely to be stricken with leprosy, but we can suffer a kind of spiritual leprosy -- a weakening of our sense of self and our relationships with other people that can even be contagious. There are some real negative consequences to constantly fighting irrelevancy or defending what we think we deserve. We will always see people who are highly capable in ways that we are not. We will always be able to find some way in which somebody "got away with" something or received some opportunity or privilege that we envy. Being driven by fear or a sense of entitlement will only yield more frustration and anger for us, though. Looking around in our lives for ways in which we can bring equity and compassion forward for others not only engages us in creatively using our unique capabilities in highly relevant ways, but it has the potential to transform the lives of other people. This, in turn, can ultimately lead to a more equitable society, which benefits everyone.
At the core of every person is a deep awareness of truth, an undeniable beauty, and a phenomenal reserve of creativity. No person can truly become irrelevant. At the same time, no person truly deserves more than any other person. When we recognize the inherent value of ourselves and of every person around us, we can engage our creativity in profoundly satisfying and meaningful ways. We can create something that can never be built from fears about ourselves or a preoccupation with what we think we deserve.
What are you building?
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