The Gospel of Mark is the earliest collection of Jesus stories that made it into the Bible. In fact, other gospel writers quote directly from Mark. The Gospel of Mark doesn't begin the stories about Jesus with a census and a manger and a band of shepherds shirking their duties at the behest of a supernatural choir. Mary and Joseph are not even mentioned. Instead, this short collection of Jesus tales begins with the character of John the Baptist, herald of the messiah figure. Instead of legitimizing Jesus as divine by a special birth story, the Gospel of Mark illustrates the divine nature of Jesus by a holy proclamation when Jesus is baptized, an event which initiates the public ministry of Jesus in all of the gospels. This was quite possibly an earlier origin story about the Christ figure than the familiar Christmas tale, which may have developed as the Jesus mythology matured in the first century.
John the Baptist sets an interesting stage for Jesus. In the Gospel of Mark, he serves as a prophetic herald, baptizing people for "repentance" and the "forgiveness of sins." In other words, when people felt shame about some way that they had not lived up to their expectations of themselves, and they wished to refocus and strive to come closer to their ideal of themselves, John ceremonially gave them permission to set aside their feelings of shame and boldly move forward in their lives. He foretells the coming of a messiah figure, and when Jesus is baptized, God identifies Jesus as that messiah figure. Later gospel writers expanded on the character of John the Baptist.
The Gospel of Matthew includes a rebuke of the prominent religious authorities of the day, and John recognizes the special nature of Jesus when he approaches for baptism. Jesus tells John that his baptism is a matter of propriety, since presumably he had never missed the mark in his first three decades, being the son of God and all.
The Gospel of Luke begins with a legendary birth story for John the Baptist, and when the time comes for Jesus and John to meet as adults, John has already been preaching the same kinds of messages that Jesus will carry on after John's death: lessons like people who have more should share with people who have less, and extortion and lying are bad. Luke also includes a little more information about John's arrest by Herod, since John spoke up about some of the dictator's illegal and unsavory behavior.
The Gospel of John (named pseudonymously for a different John) is a bit more blatantly metaphysical than the "synoptic" gospels, but John the Baptist still figures prominently early in the story. In this telling of the story, John recognizes Jesus because of divine revelation, and Jesus is once again legitimized as a uniquely qualified spiritual leader.
None of these stories is particularly useful as mere historical data; there is nothing more verifiable in these tales than there is about any other mythological origin story. What is important, however, is the message behind John the Baptist's character. The Christ figure did not choose to begin his teaching within the organized Jewish religion, but rather began his public ministry outside the organized political and religious systems of the day. John the Baptist was apparently ministering primarily to people disenfranchised from established power structures. When the religious authority figures came to investigate, he chastised them for their pride and their "viperous" natures. The character of Jesus was not spiritually astute because of intense religious study or the ability to follow or understand Jewish dogma and rules; his credentials came from a deeper authority.
When the gospel writers use the character of John the Baptist to say something about Jesus, they have an obvious message to convey. Jesus serves as an idealized persona, fully in touch with his divine nature while walking around in a human body in a human world. Perhaps what John the Baptist saw was only partially correct however. Perhaps if he had been willing to look for it, John would have seen a deeper spiritual self within every person, ignored or undeveloped maybe, or covered over with lies and beliefs that were initially very well-intentioned. Perhaps if we look around intentionally, we will see something more than John saw in the multitude of people around him.
John the Baptist didn't really need to tell people not to take more money than they ought from people, or to share what they had with people who had less. We already know right from wrong. We know when we are acting out of selfishness (fear of losing what we have) or greed (fear of not having enough). And yet John got thrown in prison for saying out loud things that everyone already knew. This is, in part, because we get rather defensive when we do things out of fear. Sometimes we would rather be defiantly out of alignment with our truest, most noble selves than be told that we are wrong. We would rather lie to ourselves than honestly face our fears, even when we know at our core that we are way off base. This is one of the reasons we need one another.
We need other people to honestly remind us of the things we don't want to hear. We need other people who care when we go off the rails, who are willing to speak up when they see us careening out of control because of our irrational fears or our false beliefs. Even when we are just slightly out of alignment with the people we most want to be, an honest and loving word from someone can remind us of the things that matter most in our lives. Speaking the truth to someone is not always easy, especially when we have such a tendency to get mad when someone tells us something we don't particularly like. The character of John the Baptist gives us a model in this regard.
Without getting caught up in the intent of the gospel writers to legitimize the hero of their story as uniquely divine, there are a few things that we might glean from John the Baptist. First and foremost, we might strive to more gracefully correct our course when we recognize that we are out of alignment with the selves we most want to be. This requires being honest about our deepest selves as well as being honest about where we are potentially falling short. We might also strive to appreciate the people in our lives who are honest and caring enough to remind us who we are, to see our most noble selves in spite of our fearfulness. We can be those honest and caring people as well, willing to speak out in truth and love so that another individual might recognize that they are not entirely living as the person they want to be.
In one sense, we are all John the Baptists, surrounded by John the Baptists: people capable of seeing the intrinsic value of every person, and people capable of speaking the truth without judgment, so that together we might sharpen one another, strengthen one another, and create the kind of world we most want to live in. In our own ways, we can give people opportunities to set aside shame and irrational fear and move forward in their lives with hope and dignity. We don't need to herald a superhuman messiah who will come to save us from ourselves, we can simply proclaim one another as capable, worthy, beautiful.
This is the good news: Truth, beauty, and creativity are within you and always have been. You have value and worth because you are, and you need no further credential than that.
Showing posts with label spiritual authority. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiritual authority. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
1 Kings 12-13: Reading History through Smudged Lenses (or How Beliefs Cloud Our Vision)
A simple search on the phrase, "God told me to do it," will yield all sorts of news stories (most of them rather disturbing) about people breaking into homes, kidnapping people, killing people, and even committing acts of cannibalism, claiming that they only did what they did because of a directive from on high. While we have no way of knowing what is going on inside the heads of other people, it seems fairly safe to assume that there was something psychologically amiss, and not a deity directing their actions. Of course, one strong alternative is that some of these folks knew exactly what they were doing when they pointed the finger of blame at an invisible all-powerful being with whom one cannot argue or debate. And it's worth pointing out that just as many disturbing stories include the claim that the devil is to blame.
We don't like being at fault. We don't like being blamed for something. Even when we haven't decapitated anyone or committed acts far outside the cultural norms, we frequently look for a way to justify or defend our behavior when it feels like we're being accused. This is not new behavior for human beings. Recall how Solomon had allegedly used fellow Israelites for slave labor when the temple was being constructed, and imagine the situation his successor would have to manage.
According to the biblical narrative, when Solomon died and his son Rehoboam took the throne, the people who had been subjected to forced labor under Solomon sent a representative to humbly request Rehoboam treat them with a bit more respect. Rehoboam was too dim to see the correct path on his own, so he asked for guidance from his trusted wise advisers. He didn't like what they had to say, so he sought advice from his young friends. Taking their advice (or perhaps doing what he wanted to do all along), he rashly insulted the representative and ended up losing a significant portion of his kingdom when ten tribes (out of twelve) revolted against his leadership. This is the story of 1 Kings 12, which is duplicated almost word for word in 2 Chronicles 10.
Is there a not-so-hidden moral to the story about age and youth and wisdom and folly? The older men who wrote down the story may have had an axe to grind. On top of that, they were looking back at a failed kingdom and trying to explain it in a way that made sense to them. Rehoboam's failure makes sense when you read their version of the story. Of course, we will never know the objective reality of the situation. (Readers who believe that the Bible does, in fact, provide a narrative of irrefutable historical data are humbly encouraged to read previous entries on the topic.) Something very interesting happens next, however, scribed by the same religious-minded hands who were trying to make sense of why their society was faltering.
Jeroboam (the leader of the revolt against Rehoboam) set up some idols in a couple of northern temples so his people wouldn't have to go to the temple in Jerusalem, which Rehoboam still controlled. This was a no-no, of course, since it implied the worship of a god other than Yahweh, or at the very least, honoring a graven image instead of honoring their actual cultural deity. In 1 Kings 13, a unnamed prophet appears on the scene. He claims to have a message from God condemning the religious practices Jeroboam had instituted, and he produces a few miraculous signs to back up his claim. Then another unnamed prophet invites this traveler for a meal, but the traveling prophet has been told by God to return home by a different route without eating or drinking any of the food near the heretical temples. The insistent prophet with a penchant for hospitality responds that God told him that the traveling prophet should stick around for a meal, so they share a meal, at which time God pronounces judgment for the traveling prophet's disobedience and a lion kills him on the road.
Now, looking at history, the northern kingdom of Israel was conquered by a foreign empire before the southern kingdom of Judah. In looking back at why the northern kingdom failed, the Israelite historians concluded that it must have been because God was displeased with the kingdom. Why would God have been displeased? Well, among other things, their worship was all wrong. That's why they fell to a foreign army. It had nothing to do with military or political leadership; it was entirely the result of religious ineptitude. Thus, the story needs to reflect that the traveling prophet who pronounced God's judgment was the true mouthpiece of God, and the man who insisted that God wanted the traveling prophet to stay for dinner was a false prophet, claiming that God said something he didn't really say.
If we look at all of history, all of the kingdoms and nations and empires that have risen and fallen, perhaps we would see consistency in this idea that a kingdom's success is based on the propriety of its worship. But then, we see that the southern kingdom of Judah, which had instituted religious reforms to be as precisely in line with what Yahweh required as they could, also fell to a foreign power. The temple was destroyed and the people were taken into exile. The Roman Empire, which established Christianity as the state religion, fell to hostile invading forces. The Byzantine Empire fell as well. Obviously orthodox Christianity can't keep a political body safe either. When the Muslim Empire conquered much of the world, it was eventually driven back, and yet it still holds power in many countries. Japanese culture has existed since before the Common Era and survived even the devastating bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Perhaps, by the standards of the ancient Israelite historians, we should look to Islamic practices or the syncretic Shinto-Buddhism practiced by the Japanese to understand how best to worship God, since they characterize resilient political entities where the nation of Israel fell time and time again.
But the point is not to determine the ideal religious practice to provide political resilience. That is merely the smudged and tinted lens through which Israelite historians gazed at their history. Likely, we can point to specific decisions and practices that had a measurable and verifiable impact on the survival of any culture or nation, without resorting to supernatural phenomena and schemes. Anyone who looks back at history and discerns the will of a supernatural entity is creating an explanation that isn't needed or warranted. The actual facts of history create a feasible enough explanation without inventing an overarching plan from on high. Such inventions inevitably run into problems when scrutinized, but the inventors are not likely to acknowledge those challenges, since they often believe that they have discerned what God wants, which brings us back to our unnamed prophets.
It is possible that prophets in the story are just literary constructs, used to comment on the state of affairs as the writer saw things. Assuming we can analyze the characters at all, we still don't know whether either of them actually believed that they were mouthpieces of the divine. From personal experience, it would seem that people who think they know what God wants are not likely to be swayed by someone else's idea of what God wants, even if a delicious meal is involved. Once a person becomes convinced that the will of an almighty supreme being is known to them, it's tough for them to keep an open mind. It's safer to blame God if something bad happens. If I say, "It was God's will," then no one should hold me personally accountable. I can't get blamed for something that God wanted to happen.
If only everyone agreed on what God wanted, it might be easier to take such assertions seriously. Instead, there is a whole array of claims about what God wants, and although most of them do not involve decapitations or cannibalism, some of them do involve some rather hateful and violent positions. On the other side of the spectrum are those who claim that God wants peace and unity. It seems impossible that an almighty, omniscient deity could want so many different and contradictory things as is suggested by a survey of those who claim to know God's will.
What seems more possible is that everyone who makes such a claim is wrong. Not necessarily intentionally misleading, just wrong about where their information originates. Some people may believe fervently that God wants all war to cease, and others may believe wholeheartedly that God wants all infidels slaughtered. There is amply evidence in various religious scriptures to justify either stance. There is actually evidence for nearly any claim anyone may make about what God wants. Some people are just lying, as the biblical writers suggest of our hospitable prophet. Maybe he thought that he would get some sort of blessing or benefit from his act of hospitality, so he said that God wanted it -- a claim that could not be refuted. Who knows? In any case, it doesn't matter whether or not someone who claims to know what God wants is intentionally lying; the premise in and of itself is faulty.
Within us all, there is a way that we think the world should be. We have created an idealized impression of how people should behave and how events should turn out, and if our idealized impression is challenged by circumstances or by other people's behavior, we get rather put out. Our ideal can't be wrong, so we assume that other people are wrong. The problem is that our idealized impressions of how things should be is not based on any sort of objective analysis. It's based on beliefs into which we have been indoctrinated or that we have gradually accepted over time. And beliefs are often not much better than opinions. We all have beliefs that are not based on any sort of verifiable facts, they are just the things that we believe.
When we determine how the world should work through the smeared, biased lenses of our beliefs, we do not see the world as it is. We try to fix things and people that do not need to be fixed, only because they do not fit with the way we want the world to be. We see trajectories of purpose and intention in coincidences because we want our perception of cause-and-effect to apply to all that we survey. Yet, it's obvious when reality doesn't line up with what we want that something is off kilter. Instead of trying to fix everything else, perhaps our attention should be drawn to our own lenses -- our beliefs. It really is alright to be wrong about something and to adjust beliefs as necessary to accommodate new information. We are not obligated to cling to what we have believed in the past beyond the point at which the beliefs no longer make sense in light of reality. We are free to align our beliefs with the reality of the world around us, to wipe a little bit of the smudge off our lenses, so to speak.
We cannot ethically and morally blame God or the devil for our behavior. We are each personally accountable for our words and actions. This is not always pretty, but it is honest. We don't always know all that we would like to know, and we don't always listen to the wisest counsel. Ultimately, though, our lives and choices are up to us. Even if you believe that there is a God, you do not know what he wants better than anyone else does. You might know what you want better than anyone else, but that's the extent of it. Clarity comes from exercising a bit of honesty about the source of our problems, our beliefs, and what we want the world to be like. Hint: It comes from inside us.
We don't like being at fault. We don't like being blamed for something. Even when we haven't decapitated anyone or committed acts far outside the cultural norms, we frequently look for a way to justify or defend our behavior when it feels like we're being accused. This is not new behavior for human beings. Recall how Solomon had allegedly used fellow Israelites for slave labor when the temple was being constructed, and imagine the situation his successor would have to manage.
According to the biblical narrative, when Solomon died and his son Rehoboam took the throne, the people who had been subjected to forced labor under Solomon sent a representative to humbly request Rehoboam treat them with a bit more respect. Rehoboam was too dim to see the correct path on his own, so he asked for guidance from his trusted wise advisers. He didn't like what they had to say, so he sought advice from his young friends. Taking their advice (or perhaps doing what he wanted to do all along), he rashly insulted the representative and ended up losing a significant portion of his kingdom when ten tribes (out of twelve) revolted against his leadership. This is the story of 1 Kings 12, which is duplicated almost word for word in 2 Chronicles 10.
Is there a not-so-hidden moral to the story about age and youth and wisdom and folly? The older men who wrote down the story may have had an axe to grind. On top of that, they were looking back at a failed kingdom and trying to explain it in a way that made sense to them. Rehoboam's failure makes sense when you read their version of the story. Of course, we will never know the objective reality of the situation. (Readers who believe that the Bible does, in fact, provide a narrative of irrefutable historical data are humbly encouraged to read previous entries on the topic.) Something very interesting happens next, however, scribed by the same religious-minded hands who were trying to make sense of why their society was faltering.
Jeroboam (the leader of the revolt against Rehoboam) set up some idols in a couple of northern temples so his people wouldn't have to go to the temple in Jerusalem, which Rehoboam still controlled. This was a no-no, of course, since it implied the worship of a god other than Yahweh, or at the very least, honoring a graven image instead of honoring their actual cultural deity. In 1 Kings 13, a unnamed prophet appears on the scene. He claims to have a message from God condemning the religious practices Jeroboam had instituted, and he produces a few miraculous signs to back up his claim. Then another unnamed prophet invites this traveler for a meal, but the traveling prophet has been told by God to return home by a different route without eating or drinking any of the food near the heretical temples. The insistent prophet with a penchant for hospitality responds that God told him that the traveling prophet should stick around for a meal, so they share a meal, at which time God pronounces judgment for the traveling prophet's disobedience and a lion kills him on the road.
Now, looking at history, the northern kingdom of Israel was conquered by a foreign empire before the southern kingdom of Judah. In looking back at why the northern kingdom failed, the Israelite historians concluded that it must have been because God was displeased with the kingdom. Why would God have been displeased? Well, among other things, their worship was all wrong. That's why they fell to a foreign army. It had nothing to do with military or political leadership; it was entirely the result of religious ineptitude. Thus, the story needs to reflect that the traveling prophet who pronounced God's judgment was the true mouthpiece of God, and the man who insisted that God wanted the traveling prophet to stay for dinner was a false prophet, claiming that God said something he didn't really say.
If we look at all of history, all of the kingdoms and nations and empires that have risen and fallen, perhaps we would see consistency in this idea that a kingdom's success is based on the propriety of its worship. But then, we see that the southern kingdom of Judah, which had instituted religious reforms to be as precisely in line with what Yahweh required as they could, also fell to a foreign power. The temple was destroyed and the people were taken into exile. The Roman Empire, which established Christianity as the state religion, fell to hostile invading forces. The Byzantine Empire fell as well. Obviously orthodox Christianity can't keep a political body safe either. When the Muslim Empire conquered much of the world, it was eventually driven back, and yet it still holds power in many countries. Japanese culture has existed since before the Common Era and survived even the devastating bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Perhaps, by the standards of the ancient Israelite historians, we should look to Islamic practices or the syncretic Shinto-Buddhism practiced by the Japanese to understand how best to worship God, since they characterize resilient political entities where the nation of Israel fell time and time again.
But the point is not to determine the ideal religious practice to provide political resilience. That is merely the smudged and tinted lens through which Israelite historians gazed at their history. Likely, we can point to specific decisions and practices that had a measurable and verifiable impact on the survival of any culture or nation, without resorting to supernatural phenomena and schemes. Anyone who looks back at history and discerns the will of a supernatural entity is creating an explanation that isn't needed or warranted. The actual facts of history create a feasible enough explanation without inventing an overarching plan from on high. Such inventions inevitably run into problems when scrutinized, but the inventors are not likely to acknowledge those challenges, since they often believe that they have discerned what God wants, which brings us back to our unnamed prophets.
It is possible that prophets in the story are just literary constructs, used to comment on the state of affairs as the writer saw things. Assuming we can analyze the characters at all, we still don't know whether either of them actually believed that they were mouthpieces of the divine. From personal experience, it would seem that people who think they know what God wants are not likely to be swayed by someone else's idea of what God wants, even if a delicious meal is involved. Once a person becomes convinced that the will of an almighty supreme being is known to them, it's tough for them to keep an open mind. It's safer to blame God if something bad happens. If I say, "It was God's will," then no one should hold me personally accountable. I can't get blamed for something that God wanted to happen.
If only everyone agreed on what God wanted, it might be easier to take such assertions seriously. Instead, there is a whole array of claims about what God wants, and although most of them do not involve decapitations or cannibalism, some of them do involve some rather hateful and violent positions. On the other side of the spectrum are those who claim that God wants peace and unity. It seems impossible that an almighty, omniscient deity could want so many different and contradictory things as is suggested by a survey of those who claim to know God's will.
What seems more possible is that everyone who makes such a claim is wrong. Not necessarily intentionally misleading, just wrong about where their information originates. Some people may believe fervently that God wants all war to cease, and others may believe wholeheartedly that God wants all infidels slaughtered. There is amply evidence in various religious scriptures to justify either stance. There is actually evidence for nearly any claim anyone may make about what God wants. Some people are just lying, as the biblical writers suggest of our hospitable prophet. Maybe he thought that he would get some sort of blessing or benefit from his act of hospitality, so he said that God wanted it -- a claim that could not be refuted. Who knows? In any case, it doesn't matter whether or not someone who claims to know what God wants is intentionally lying; the premise in and of itself is faulty.
Within us all, there is a way that we think the world should be. We have created an idealized impression of how people should behave and how events should turn out, and if our idealized impression is challenged by circumstances or by other people's behavior, we get rather put out. Our ideal can't be wrong, so we assume that other people are wrong. The problem is that our idealized impressions of how things should be is not based on any sort of objective analysis. It's based on beliefs into which we have been indoctrinated or that we have gradually accepted over time. And beliefs are often not much better than opinions. We all have beliefs that are not based on any sort of verifiable facts, they are just the things that we believe.
When we determine how the world should work through the smeared, biased lenses of our beliefs, we do not see the world as it is. We try to fix things and people that do not need to be fixed, only because they do not fit with the way we want the world to be. We see trajectories of purpose and intention in coincidences because we want our perception of cause-and-effect to apply to all that we survey. Yet, it's obvious when reality doesn't line up with what we want that something is off kilter. Instead of trying to fix everything else, perhaps our attention should be drawn to our own lenses -- our beliefs. It really is alright to be wrong about something and to adjust beliefs as necessary to accommodate new information. We are not obligated to cling to what we have believed in the past beyond the point at which the beliefs no longer make sense in light of reality. We are free to align our beliefs with the reality of the world around us, to wipe a little bit of the smudge off our lenses, so to speak.
We cannot ethically and morally blame God or the devil for our behavior. We are each personally accountable for our words and actions. This is not always pretty, but it is honest. We don't always know all that we would like to know, and we don't always listen to the wisest counsel. Ultimately, though, our lives and choices are up to us. Even if you believe that there is a God, you do not know what he wants better than anyone else does. You might know what you want better than anyone else, but that's the extent of it. Clarity comes from exercising a bit of honesty about the source of our problems, our beliefs, and what we want the world to be like. Hint: It comes from inside us.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Exodus 15-18: Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due
In the Exodus story (picking up in chapter 15), there is a celebration after the Israelites watch Pharaoh's forces get swept away by the waters of the Red Sea. The Jews sing a song crediting God with their escape from Egypt with the plunder they stole from the Egyptians and their safe passage into the wilderness. Until they have trouble finding potable water, that is. Then, there are complaints until Moses works some magic with a water-purifying stick, and God is once more praised for watching out for the Israelites. Until they have trouble finding enough food to fill their bellies, that is. Then they tell Moses that he should have left them all in Egypt instead of taking them out into the desert to die. So, Moses instructs them on how to gather food from the harsh environment so that the community has plenty, and everyone praises God for providing.
This trend continues: The Israelites have trouble finding water again. They gripe at Moses for taking them into the wilderness to die. Moses uses a magic stick. God is praised. The Israelites face hostile nomads. Moses determines the outcome of the battle by raising or lowering his magic stick. God is praised. Then, Moses' father-in-law, Jethro, pays a visit. He tells Moses that it isn't wise to be the only person to whom the entire Israelite community comes for advice and leadership. Jethro suggests bureaucracy, a formula of delegation that will spread authority out a bit among the people. Moses likes the idea and puts it into practice.
It's interesting that God isn't credited with the idea of bureaucracy, but Jethro's suggestion to "teach them the decrees and instructions, and show them the way they are to live and how they are to behave" is essentially an admonition to encourage spiritual maturity in a people whose faith is threatened by every troublesome circumstance. Not a bad suggestion. Build up the faith of a people and they will be a little more able to take care of themselves. It's a far cry from the practice of some twenty-first century spiritual leaders who think it's best to tell people what to think and feel with an overbearing volume and repetition that prevents people from thinking for themselves.
If a people believe that a higher power is watching out for their well-being, expressions of gratitude seem appropriate. It is perhaps dubious for modern-day Christians to look back at the Song of Miriam and formulate a philosophy of international relations based on the assumption that God will smash their enemies, unleash his blazing fury, and consume them like straw. Being grateful for the good things that happen in life is healthy, though, especially when you consider just having enough food and water to be a blessing. Those with a more mature faith might even be able to express gratitude when survival is in question or when they experience some degree of unpleasantness in life. That seems to be where Jethro's idea could ultimately lead, even if his goal at the time was just to spread out Moses' leadership and authority a bit.
The problem with Moses' identity among the wandering Israelites is that he has become the only man with the answers. He is the only one who is entitled to say what God wants from the people. He is the only one who can provide sustenance for them. Moses is essentially their god, even though they aren't recorded as praising him directly. He has set himself up with unassailable authority because he communicates with God and the people do not. They need him in order to receive God's blessings. They need him to survive. Or so it would seem, at least. Jethro saw clearly that nothing good can come of one person wielding that level of power over a community.
As the story continues, we'll see that there is still a great deal of "I know what God wants and you don't." When the governing rules of the community are delivered, they still come with the threat of "do what God wants or die." It would seem that spiritual maturity is a scary prospect for both sides. It isn't as easy for a leader to compel people to do what he wants once those people start thinking for themselves a little more. But there's also a great deal of vulnerability in developing personal responsibility for one's own beliefs. In a way, the whole of the Bible (and perhaps every religious text) is about that struggle to accept the responsibility of spiritual maturity in order to reap the tremendous rewards.
Historically, there may never have been an Israelite exodus from Egypt. Still, if there was, I believe that the Israelites would have been able to survive without Moses. It may not have been pleasant, and they may have lost many of their number in the process, but perhaps they would have become a more tightly woven community as well. People are capable of a great many things, whether it's purifying water to drink, surviving off the food that the land provides, or defending themselves against actual aggressors. To give all the credit for such things to a single individual in a community is lazy and immature. Consistently waiting for Moses or God or someone else to act on your behalf reflects not only a sense that you are too weak to take care of yourself, but also that you deserve to have your every need provided for you by someone else. People are capable of more than that. Be sincerely grateful and earnestly praise God if that makes sense for you. But also recognize your own responsibility for your thoughts and actions. Personal responsibility is at the very heart of spiritual maturity.
This trend continues: The Israelites have trouble finding water again. They gripe at Moses for taking them into the wilderness to die. Moses uses a magic stick. God is praised. The Israelites face hostile nomads. Moses determines the outcome of the battle by raising or lowering his magic stick. God is praised. Then, Moses' father-in-law, Jethro, pays a visit. He tells Moses that it isn't wise to be the only person to whom the entire Israelite community comes for advice and leadership. Jethro suggests bureaucracy, a formula of delegation that will spread authority out a bit among the people. Moses likes the idea and puts it into practice.
It's interesting that God isn't credited with the idea of bureaucracy, but Jethro's suggestion to "teach them the decrees and instructions, and show them the way they are to live and how they are to behave" is essentially an admonition to encourage spiritual maturity in a people whose faith is threatened by every troublesome circumstance. Not a bad suggestion. Build up the faith of a people and they will be a little more able to take care of themselves. It's a far cry from the practice of some twenty-first century spiritual leaders who think it's best to tell people what to think and feel with an overbearing volume and repetition that prevents people from thinking for themselves.
If a people believe that a higher power is watching out for their well-being, expressions of gratitude seem appropriate. It is perhaps dubious for modern-day Christians to look back at the Song of Miriam and formulate a philosophy of international relations based on the assumption that God will smash their enemies, unleash his blazing fury, and consume them like straw. Being grateful for the good things that happen in life is healthy, though, especially when you consider just having enough food and water to be a blessing. Those with a more mature faith might even be able to express gratitude when survival is in question or when they experience some degree of unpleasantness in life. That seems to be where Jethro's idea could ultimately lead, even if his goal at the time was just to spread out Moses' leadership and authority a bit.
The problem with Moses' identity among the wandering Israelites is that he has become the only man with the answers. He is the only one who is entitled to say what God wants from the people. He is the only one who can provide sustenance for them. Moses is essentially their god, even though they aren't recorded as praising him directly. He has set himself up with unassailable authority because he communicates with God and the people do not. They need him in order to receive God's blessings. They need him to survive. Or so it would seem, at least. Jethro saw clearly that nothing good can come of one person wielding that level of power over a community.
As the story continues, we'll see that there is still a great deal of "I know what God wants and you don't." When the governing rules of the community are delivered, they still come with the threat of "do what God wants or die." It would seem that spiritual maturity is a scary prospect for both sides. It isn't as easy for a leader to compel people to do what he wants once those people start thinking for themselves a little more. But there's also a great deal of vulnerability in developing personal responsibility for one's own beliefs. In a way, the whole of the Bible (and perhaps every religious text) is about that struggle to accept the responsibility of spiritual maturity in order to reap the tremendous rewards.
Historically, there may never have been an Israelite exodus from Egypt. Still, if there was, I believe that the Israelites would have been able to survive without Moses. It may not have been pleasant, and they may have lost many of their number in the process, but perhaps they would have become a more tightly woven community as well. People are capable of a great many things, whether it's purifying water to drink, surviving off the food that the land provides, or defending themselves against actual aggressors. To give all the credit for such things to a single individual in a community is lazy and immature. Consistently waiting for Moses or God or someone else to act on your behalf reflects not only a sense that you are too weak to take care of yourself, but also that you deserve to have your every need provided for you by someone else. People are capable of more than that. Be sincerely grateful and earnestly praise God if that makes sense for you. But also recognize your own responsibility for your thoughts and actions. Personal responsibility is at the very heart of spiritual maturity.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Exodus 4-13: The Exodus Model of Spiritual Leadership and the Dangers of Blind Obedience
The tale of the ten plagues visited upon Egypt is famous. When the Israelites were under the heavy burden of Egyptian slavery, Moses compelled the Egyptian pharaoh to release them by proclaiming a series of increasingly costly events, enacted by God upon the Egyptians. The Israelites were spared the direct cost of the plagues, and eventually left with stolen goods from Egyptian households with Egyptian soldiers in pursuit. The story of the plagues culminates in the ritual of Passover, a significant piece of Jewish culture that reminds participants of God’s favoritism toward his chosen people and his promise of redemption.
There is considerable doubt in the archaeological community that the Israelites were ever slaves in Egypt, much less that they proclaimed and were spared from an epic series of plagues upon the Egyptian people. Some suggest that the assumed timeline of Egyptian history is incorrect, and at least one researcher has offered that significant volcanic activity could account for almost all of the plagues. However, to take the story as pure documentation of historical events misses its point. The three essential messages of the story are (1) Our god is better than your god, (2) God chooses spiritual leaders whom the multitudes must follow, and (3) Ritual has meaning.
While it seems silly to put the first message in terms of a grade-school taunt, there are plenty of people in the world today for whom that simple statement is the summation of their faith. “My god is better than your god, and therefore you are less worthy as a human being.” Less worthy of respect, less worthy of societal rights, even less worthy of life in some cases. It’s a central problem to the concept of an external deity, especially when certain people believe that they can understand that deity’s character and intentions better than anyone else. It must be incredibly frustrating for believers to hear such a cacophony of voices all proclaiming to know what God wants and rarely agreeing on anything. Responsible believers would do well to research their own scriptures and decide for themselves what spiritual truths lie therein, but the message “people need leaders to guide them into spiritual understanding” often stands in the way.
When we started looking at Exodus, I mentioned that we would do best to identify with Moses rather than the masses of Israelite “victims” in the tale. That isn’t implicit in the text, though. The story clearly suggests that there is a vast gulf between the chosen spiritual leaders and the masses they lead. The role of the masses is to be obedient to the leader, because the leader is proclaiming the will of God. To be obedient to the spiritual leader is to be obedient to God. And if you aren’t obedient, you will suffer – perhaps even the death of a child. Blind obedience is a fine way to maintain cultural integrity. Not so much for developing personal spirituality.
The problem, of course, is that people eventually abuse that spiritual authority. It would almost be a respectable system if those leaders cared first and foremost about the spiritual well-being of their flocks, but when a spiritual leader develops a personal agenda, it becomes a personal crusade. People with the authority of a pulpit or a microphone speak for God and proclaim who should be persecuted, who should be defended, who people should fall in love with, what people should legally be allowed to do with their bodies, who should be elected to office, what country the United States should bomb, what movies to watch or avoid… They strive to influence all manner of beliefs, behaviors, and decisions. And within the context of a religious culture teaching people that obedience to spiritual leaders is equivalent to obedience to God, people sometimes fail to use their own personal discernment in the face of messages from these authorities.
Then there is the matter of backlash in the face of disillusionment. Some people, upon recognizing that a spiritual leader has in some way failed them or led them astray, decide to take charge themselves. Religious institutions are filled with people on a quest for personal power, sometimes with a sense of righteous purpose, but almost always fueled by a measure of vindictiveness toward a person or group that didn’t quite fill out the role of spiritual leader satisfactorily. In many cases, these selfish campaigns for personal power ignore the impact on the broader spiritual community, and the negative ripples may spread further than the crusader even realizes.
It’s probably fortunate for some people that there is not an intelligent divine being looking on to the chaos caused by those who claim to be his mouthpieces. It’s dangerous to believe that you have a corner on the market of understanding what a god wants from his followers. Prophets and their devotees spend more time and energy arguing with one another than they spend on actually living spiritually meaningful lives. Unless, of course, arguing incessantly has some spiritual merit in a person’s belief system. I suppose that’s possible. I believe that there is a more satisfying way to live.
Leaders are important. I don’t mean to suggest otherwise. Innovators, visionaries, and mobilizers are necessary to propel a system forward, whether it’s an organization or a nation or a world. The key is for people to realize that these human beings are just that. Leaders are not granted divine immunity from fault or criticism. There are a lot of people who speak for particular beliefs or causes, but there is no one who speaks for God. Anyone in leadership benefits from people who are willing to think for themselves and evaluate the direction in which they are being led.
Which is where the third point of the Exodus story comes into play. Ritual is powerful. The Passover probably began as a bit of witchcraft, smearing lamb’s blood on a doorframe to keep evil spirits away. It evolved into a colorful story about a people’s relationship with their god and a practice that preserved a culture. The ritual embodies what is held to be spiritual truth, and it is a powerful symbol that touches the deepest parts of the human psyche. The Passover ritual also becomes translated into Christian communion, the church having converted the ritual into a new spiritual context, as organized religion so often does. Without the ritual, people may understand a set of beliefs intellectually, but the ritual reaches into places that the intellect doesn’t tread.
People have created rituals for a very long time. Rituals were initially ways to connect people with the natural world around them. Some of our contemporary celebrations (religious and otherwise) have been adapted from rituals honoring the natural occurrences of solstice and equinox. The key is to recognize what beliefs a ritual is establishing for you. Don’t take part in rituals that are not in alignment with what you truly believe. If you want to become more deeply in touch with the divine, be a part of or create your own rituals that speak to that truth. That goes for any belief system. If the rituals you participate in have become habitual and empty, find a way to revitalize the practice. When you are more deeply aware of who you are, you are more apt to see that value in others. This goes for people who believe that they are forgiven children of God as well as people who believe that the divine is something they embody within themselves.
When we are honest about the deep and undeniable truth, beauty, and creativity within us, we are able to inspire that awareness in others and we are able to guide progress in a direction that truly honors our connection to ourselves, the rest of humanity, and the natural world. In those moments of clarity when we set aside fears and personal agendas in order to consider the truths that run deeper than doctrines, then we stand a chance of speaking for the divine. And in those moments of clarity, it doesn’t matter who we convince. Truth does not need a bullhorn. Truth does not need to attack anything. Truth does not need defending. Truth does not need anyone to agree with it. Truth is simply and undeniably true.
There is considerable doubt in the archaeological community that the Israelites were ever slaves in Egypt, much less that they proclaimed and were spared from an epic series of plagues upon the Egyptian people. Some suggest that the assumed timeline of Egyptian history is incorrect, and at least one researcher has offered that significant volcanic activity could account for almost all of the plagues. However, to take the story as pure documentation of historical events misses its point. The three essential messages of the story are (1) Our god is better than your god, (2) God chooses spiritual leaders whom the multitudes must follow, and (3) Ritual has meaning.
While it seems silly to put the first message in terms of a grade-school taunt, there are plenty of people in the world today for whom that simple statement is the summation of their faith. “My god is better than your god, and therefore you are less worthy as a human being.” Less worthy of respect, less worthy of societal rights, even less worthy of life in some cases. It’s a central problem to the concept of an external deity, especially when certain people believe that they can understand that deity’s character and intentions better than anyone else. It must be incredibly frustrating for believers to hear such a cacophony of voices all proclaiming to know what God wants and rarely agreeing on anything. Responsible believers would do well to research their own scriptures and decide for themselves what spiritual truths lie therein, but the message “people need leaders to guide them into spiritual understanding” often stands in the way.
When we started looking at Exodus, I mentioned that we would do best to identify with Moses rather than the masses of Israelite “victims” in the tale. That isn’t implicit in the text, though. The story clearly suggests that there is a vast gulf between the chosen spiritual leaders and the masses they lead. The role of the masses is to be obedient to the leader, because the leader is proclaiming the will of God. To be obedient to the spiritual leader is to be obedient to God. And if you aren’t obedient, you will suffer – perhaps even the death of a child. Blind obedience is a fine way to maintain cultural integrity. Not so much for developing personal spirituality.
The problem, of course, is that people eventually abuse that spiritual authority. It would almost be a respectable system if those leaders cared first and foremost about the spiritual well-being of their flocks, but when a spiritual leader develops a personal agenda, it becomes a personal crusade. People with the authority of a pulpit or a microphone speak for God and proclaim who should be persecuted, who should be defended, who people should fall in love with, what people should legally be allowed to do with their bodies, who should be elected to office, what country the United States should bomb, what movies to watch or avoid… They strive to influence all manner of beliefs, behaviors, and decisions. And within the context of a religious culture teaching people that obedience to spiritual leaders is equivalent to obedience to God, people sometimes fail to use their own personal discernment in the face of messages from these authorities.
Then there is the matter of backlash in the face of disillusionment. Some people, upon recognizing that a spiritual leader has in some way failed them or led them astray, decide to take charge themselves. Religious institutions are filled with people on a quest for personal power, sometimes with a sense of righteous purpose, but almost always fueled by a measure of vindictiveness toward a person or group that didn’t quite fill out the role of spiritual leader satisfactorily. In many cases, these selfish campaigns for personal power ignore the impact on the broader spiritual community, and the negative ripples may spread further than the crusader even realizes.
It’s probably fortunate for some people that there is not an intelligent divine being looking on to the chaos caused by those who claim to be his mouthpieces. It’s dangerous to believe that you have a corner on the market of understanding what a god wants from his followers. Prophets and their devotees spend more time and energy arguing with one another than they spend on actually living spiritually meaningful lives. Unless, of course, arguing incessantly has some spiritual merit in a person’s belief system. I suppose that’s possible. I believe that there is a more satisfying way to live.
Leaders are important. I don’t mean to suggest otherwise. Innovators, visionaries, and mobilizers are necessary to propel a system forward, whether it’s an organization or a nation or a world. The key is for people to realize that these human beings are just that. Leaders are not granted divine immunity from fault or criticism. There are a lot of people who speak for particular beliefs or causes, but there is no one who speaks for God. Anyone in leadership benefits from people who are willing to think for themselves and evaluate the direction in which they are being led.
Which is where the third point of the Exodus story comes into play. Ritual is powerful. The Passover probably began as a bit of witchcraft, smearing lamb’s blood on a doorframe to keep evil spirits away. It evolved into a colorful story about a people’s relationship with their god and a practice that preserved a culture. The ritual embodies what is held to be spiritual truth, and it is a powerful symbol that touches the deepest parts of the human psyche. The Passover ritual also becomes translated into Christian communion, the church having converted the ritual into a new spiritual context, as organized religion so often does. Without the ritual, people may understand a set of beliefs intellectually, but the ritual reaches into places that the intellect doesn’t tread.
People have created rituals for a very long time. Rituals were initially ways to connect people with the natural world around them. Some of our contemporary celebrations (religious and otherwise) have been adapted from rituals honoring the natural occurrences of solstice and equinox. The key is to recognize what beliefs a ritual is establishing for you. Don’t take part in rituals that are not in alignment with what you truly believe. If you want to become more deeply in touch with the divine, be a part of or create your own rituals that speak to that truth. That goes for any belief system. If the rituals you participate in have become habitual and empty, find a way to revitalize the practice. When you are more deeply aware of who you are, you are more apt to see that value in others. This goes for people who believe that they are forgiven children of God as well as people who believe that the divine is something they embody within themselves.
When we are honest about the deep and undeniable truth, beauty, and creativity within us, we are able to inspire that awareness in others and we are able to guide progress in a direction that truly honors our connection to ourselves, the rest of humanity, and the natural world. In those moments of clarity when we set aside fears and personal agendas in order to consider the truths that run deeper than doctrines, then we stand a chance of speaking for the divine. And in those moments of clarity, it doesn’t matter who we convince. Truth does not need a bullhorn. Truth does not need to attack anything. Truth does not need defending. Truth does not need anyone to agree with it. Truth is simply and undeniably true.
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