It's one thing to speak in the abstract about spirituality and divinity -- to have an academic or philosophical conversation about God and belief and the biblical narrative. It is sometimes more challenging to recognize where belief impacts how we live. While we may not always realize it, our actual beliefs are more clearly expressed in our actions than we ever consciously state in an abstract conversation. Whether a person claims to believe in a loving god who saves people from harm, a vengeful god who punishes the wicked, or something else altogether, those claims don't really have a lot of meaning until they impact daily life.
One can draw all sorts of clever lessons from the story of Samson. The bottom line is that Samson is a man who gets very violent when he gets angry. In today's terms, he has an anger management problem. Of course, because he's an Israelite from the tribe of Dan and the people he kills are Philistines, Samson is a hero. Today, when someone from one culture commits suicide while killing thousands of people from another culture, we have a different name for that. Whatever we call him, Samson was obviously a powerful man who was reviled by people because he demonstrated his power in uncontrolled fits of violence. Conveniently, the writers of Judges attribute Samson's strength to God. I would submit that the divine character is not the source of rage, vengeance, and hatred.
Several years ago, a close friend of mine in a large church endured horrific treatment by a coworker for a series of months. Instead of handling the problem professionally, senior staff treated my friend as if he were culpable for the abuse he endured. Eventually, things came to a head and my friend was essentially asked to resign. Although it was a traumatic experience for months, it was the best thing that could have happened to him. The environment wasn't going to change. The only thing that could change was his role in the system. In the end, he won by getting out of the abusive situation.
No doubt, people at the church thought they had won as well: The abuser got to keep his position, the pastor didn't have to handle the messy issue, and other people could go about their business without getting caught up in the drama of the conflict. It's easy to think of ourselves as winners when we get what we want. But what we think will make us happy in the short term is not always what will satisfy us in the long term. The things we want in the moment are not always the things that connect us more deeply with ourselves and other people. Sometimes we want it easy, but we don't grow much through easy situations. We grow when we recognize the decisions that are in greatest alignment with the core of who we are, and choose to do those things even when they are challenging.
From the outside, it was very easy for me to side with my friend. I know him better than I knew anyone else in the situation, and I care about his well being. It was easy for me to value him over the anonymous people that had "made his life miserable." And yet, I have this belief (at least I claim to) that every human being has value, that every person holds within them a divine self -- a deep core of truth, beauty, and creativity. How do I reconcile that belief with a person or a group of people who seem to have a very different character? This is where the rubber hits the road in terms of spiritual belief. What do we do with situations that challenge the way we want to see the world?
In the midst of an abusive situation, a person might feel justified in feeling hatred, seeking vengeance, and looking for ways to bring the building down around his enemies, even if he gets hurt in the process. When we start thinking and acting based on what we fear, we lose our sense of who we are. Feeling threatened can lead us to sever our connection to our values. We even have the Samson story telling us that God approves of rage and vengeance if it's directed toward the right people. But does that ring true with what you honestly believe? It doesn't ring true for me. I know that rage and vengeance and hatred are the exact opposite of what I want to express to other people, and those uncontrolled and unquestioned emotions separate me from who I most want to be in the world.
Rage, vengeance, and hatred all stem from fear. In Samson's situation, it might be seen as fear that the Israelites would always be subjected to Philistine authority. In my friend's situation, there were plenty of things for him to fear, too: that more people might get hurt if he didn't do something, that he might not find another job, that he might be embarrassed, that his relationships would suffer... a lot of understandable fears. The other people in the system may have had some fears as well: The abuser in the situation may have had some legitimate anger issues that he feared would never be controllable. The pastor may have feared the ramifications of some difficult and unpleasant decisions. Other people in the system may have feared for their jobs if they don't cooperate. Everyone may have feared instability in relationships that mattered to them. And fear leads us to do some pretty inhuman things sometimes.
We don't have to take that path, though. When we see fear for what it is and recognize how easily it escalates into irrationality, we can stop our legitimate anger from building into uncontrolled rage or hatred. Anger is useful. It helps us to see what we want to change in our lives. When we use it to determine how we want to control or manipulate other people, we've missed the gift in the anger. Samson hurt a lot of Philistines, but did his actions really accomplish anything for his family or his people? Our fear separates us from our truest, most noble selves and we can easily slip into hostile reactivity when we don't manage that fear.
Seeing our fear for what it is and disarming it can also help us see how other people's actions are based on fear and not their truest, most noble selves. We can have compassion for people who are caught up in hostile reactivity, because we know what it's like. We know how easy it is to let fear rule our thoughts and actions. We can't change those people, but we can be willing to see them more fully -- their humanity and their divinity, even in times when they don't see it in themselves. Everyone has value, even people whose behavior we find deplorable. The behavior is not the person. The fear that fuels the behavior is not the person. The person we are tempted to hate is honestly just like us: a beautiful and creative being who sometimes lets fear get in the way of deep connection to themselves and other people.
Within us all is the character of the divine, even in the times when we lose sight of it. We can always reclaim it and reconnect to it when we are willing. If there is anything of value in the Samson story, it is that possibility of reconnection to the divine. It is through that connection that we have a chance of seeing our way past irrational fear and into honest hope. It is through that connection that we have a chance of personal responsibility and meaningful awareness of ourselves and other people and the world we share. It is through that connection that our deepest truths can be made manifest in the way we live moment to moment, where the rubber hits the road.
Showing posts with label spiritual belief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiritual belief. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
Joshua 22-24: Choose This Day Whom You Will Serve
Cultural ideals and values change over time, even within a cohesive culture. As Joshua reaches the end of his life, he gathers the Israelites one last time to reaffirm their faith and to reinforce their adherence to an insular mono-cultural religion. Of course, the Israelites in the story agree, especially given the choices Joshua rhetorically offers. There are lots of choices when it comes to faith and belief, however, and not all of them are mutually exclusive, either-or decisions.
Now, obviously, we are skimming past some passages in the book of Joshua. For instance, we blew right past the beginning of Joshua 10. Although we can find spiritual value in any story, it didn't seem particularly important to discuss God responding to Joshua's prayer for the sun to stop moving in the sky to give the Israelites an upper hand in battle. It's one of those scenes that makes for great storytelling but cannot be taken as factual truth by anyone who understands basic physical laws. As bizarre as it seems, in modern civilized society, there are people who will fight tooth-and-nail to defend the concept that their god can break physical laws if he wants to, even though no one has ever reliably and verifiably documented such a thing. If it can just be a nice story that the Israelites told their children, then it's harmless.
We also don't need to spend a great deal of time on Joshua 22, in which a group of Israelite soldiers returns home after years of war and sets up a big altar. The rest of the Israelites, accustomed to battle and bloodshed, march over there -- ready for war -- to find out what this altar is all about. It's a testament to how our minds work. When we are convinced that opposition and threats are all around us, we will see enemies to fight everywhere, even in the faces of those close to us. The Israelites are portrayed as a pretty bloodthirsty people in this book. This chapter demonstrates how their single-mindedness about conquering the Other threatened to damage their own society when they ran out of Others to conquer. In the end, they worked it out, and everything was fine because they were willing to listen to one another -- a practice worth emulating in our personal conflicts.
In chapters 23-24, Joshua tells first the leaders and then the whole assembly of Israel that God will continue to good things for them if they continue to be obedient, and that God will do evil things to them if they are disobedient. This is very telling. There is no concept of a devil yet in Israelite culture, there is only their god and other people's gods. Other people's gods were obviously inferior, and their god was mighty and awesome. To that end, the Israelite god was capable of doing good or doing evil. According to Joshua. I'm not just making this up. The God of the Old Testament, at least up until this point, is capable of doing good or evil.
Is this the modern Christian definition of the divine character? Probably not in most people's minds. During a period of captivity, the Jews learned all about an Opposer, and this "Satan" became a part of their mythology. It's convenient to split that capacity for evil away from a god that people are supposed to be able to love and trust. It's hard to completely love or trust someone who has blatantly threatened to obliterate you from the face of the planet if you do something wrong. This perception of God softened and changed over time because people needed something different than the Infallible Supernatural Military Leader and Imposer of Order. People needed something a bit less volatile to believe in.
But this idea still exists, this God who is equally capable of doing great good or doing great evil. It's in the Bible, after all. It even leads to debates about the definitions of good and evil. It's evil for a dictator to commit genocide just because he doesn't like what a group of people is doing, but some people could persuade themselves to think of it as righteous, justified, even good if God were to do exactly the same thing. It's one of the primary reasons that religion and morality have become strange bedfellows. If any act becomes good (righteous, justified, "right") if God is behind it, then God has become amoral -- beyond morality itself. Any definition of good that doesn't contain an exclusion clause for God would seem to create problems for the god some Christians believe in.
Yet, the modern Christian view of God has evolved away from the idea that God is capable of both good and evil. If God approves of something, in their thinking, then it must be good, because God is incapable of evil. This is much like Nixon saying, "When the president does it, that means that it's not illegal." In Joshua's time, there was no ethical confusion. According to the story, their god had done some pretty impressive things when he liked what they were doing, and he had done some pretty horrible things when he didn't like what they were doing. He had proven himself mightier than the gods of all the people the Israelites conquered, to the point of providing for the Israelites the security of homes they didn't build and the abundance of vineyards and orchards they didn't plant. The story-book version of the Israelite god is not someone to whom you can easily say No.
Which brings us to Joshua's last inspirational speech. He leads the Israelites in a reaffirmation of their communal faith. And if they weren't willing to devote themselves to the god that provided so much and threatened so effectively, he commanded them to choose what other deity they were going to serve, the gods of their forefathers or the gods of the surrounding cultures. Not much of a choice. It's the kind of tactic that strategic parents use: "Would you like to clean your room, or would you like for me to take away your video game privileges for a week?" You can defy the logical choice, but there's a cost.
What if there were other choices, though? As far as people or ideals to serve, there are many more choices than what Joshua mentioned in his ritualized reaffirmation ceremony. Some people serve the ideals of patriotism, some people serve money, some people serve their children, some people serve nature, some people serve a particular corporation, some people serve aesthetic beauty, and more. Some people serve more than one thing in a meaningful way. It's worth knowing what you serve, but it isn't necessarily an either-or decision.
It isn't enough to say, "I serve myself," because that's what everyone does when it comes down to it. Did the Israelites have a better choice for self-preservation than to agree with Joshua? It wouldn't have been really self-serving to provoke the wrath of their god. It also isn't enough to say, "I serve God." Which one? The biblical God? There is no such thing. The biblical depiction of God is an inconsistent patchwork that evolved over time as a culture developed. Which version of the biblical God do you serve? Whatever your answer is, you will be defining the divine character based as much on personal beliefs as on biblical depictions. What matters to you about the character of God is based on what matters to you personally.
Joshua's admonition still has some value. You don't have to choose "this day;" there's no pressure. It's worth a little thought, though. What or whom do you serve? It may be more than one thing. What does it mean to serve? Does it mean mindless obedience? Does it mean fear of consequences? Or does it mean heartfelt devotion mixed with autonomy? Do you bring your full self into service, or do you shut down part of who you are in order to serve? Are you trying to serve something that really doesn't matter to you, just because someone said you should? If it didn't matter what other people thought of you, what or whom would you serve?
As for me, I will serve my divine self -- the insight, beauty, and creativity at the core of who I am. Through that deep self, I am awed and inspired by the world around me. Through that deep self, I can trust in my ability to find satisfying solutions to the challenges I face. Through that deep self, I can see the divine character of other people more clearly, and I can think of them and treat them in a way that honors them, that reflects a respect for their capability, even when they are not fully embracing that capability themselves. Through serving my divine self, I can be honest about what matters to me and make clear decisions that contribute to a fulfilling life. And from that deep self I can boldly connect with other people and share life with them.
That service is not easy. I believe things about myself that are not true. I believe lies about other people and about the networks and systems we create. I make decisions out of irrational fear from time to time. I serve my self imperfectly. Just like everyone else. I also forgive myself from that deep well and continue serving, and that brings me delight and satisfaction.
We all serve something. Know what you serve.
Now, obviously, we are skimming past some passages in the book of Joshua. For instance, we blew right past the beginning of Joshua 10. Although we can find spiritual value in any story, it didn't seem particularly important to discuss God responding to Joshua's prayer for the sun to stop moving in the sky to give the Israelites an upper hand in battle. It's one of those scenes that makes for great storytelling but cannot be taken as factual truth by anyone who understands basic physical laws. As bizarre as it seems, in modern civilized society, there are people who will fight tooth-and-nail to defend the concept that their god can break physical laws if he wants to, even though no one has ever reliably and verifiably documented such a thing. If it can just be a nice story that the Israelites told their children, then it's harmless.
We also don't need to spend a great deal of time on Joshua 22, in which a group of Israelite soldiers returns home after years of war and sets up a big altar. The rest of the Israelites, accustomed to battle and bloodshed, march over there -- ready for war -- to find out what this altar is all about. It's a testament to how our minds work. When we are convinced that opposition and threats are all around us, we will see enemies to fight everywhere, even in the faces of those close to us. The Israelites are portrayed as a pretty bloodthirsty people in this book. This chapter demonstrates how their single-mindedness about conquering the Other threatened to damage their own society when they ran out of Others to conquer. In the end, they worked it out, and everything was fine because they were willing to listen to one another -- a practice worth emulating in our personal conflicts.
In chapters 23-24, Joshua tells first the leaders and then the whole assembly of Israel that God will continue to good things for them if they continue to be obedient, and that God will do evil things to them if they are disobedient. This is very telling. There is no concept of a devil yet in Israelite culture, there is only their god and other people's gods. Other people's gods were obviously inferior, and their god was mighty and awesome. To that end, the Israelite god was capable of doing good or doing evil. According to Joshua. I'm not just making this up. The God of the Old Testament, at least up until this point, is capable of doing good or evil.
Is this the modern Christian definition of the divine character? Probably not in most people's minds. During a period of captivity, the Jews learned all about an Opposer, and this "Satan" became a part of their mythology. It's convenient to split that capacity for evil away from a god that people are supposed to be able to love and trust. It's hard to completely love or trust someone who has blatantly threatened to obliterate you from the face of the planet if you do something wrong. This perception of God softened and changed over time because people needed something different than the Infallible Supernatural Military Leader and Imposer of Order. People needed something a bit less volatile to believe in.
But this idea still exists, this God who is equally capable of doing great good or doing great evil. It's in the Bible, after all. It even leads to debates about the definitions of good and evil. It's evil for a dictator to commit genocide just because he doesn't like what a group of people is doing, but some people could persuade themselves to think of it as righteous, justified, even good if God were to do exactly the same thing. It's one of the primary reasons that religion and morality have become strange bedfellows. If any act becomes good (righteous, justified, "right") if God is behind it, then God has become amoral -- beyond morality itself. Any definition of good that doesn't contain an exclusion clause for God would seem to create problems for the god some Christians believe in.
Yet, the modern Christian view of God has evolved away from the idea that God is capable of both good and evil. If God approves of something, in their thinking, then it must be good, because God is incapable of evil. This is much like Nixon saying, "When the president does it, that means that it's not illegal." In Joshua's time, there was no ethical confusion. According to the story, their god had done some pretty impressive things when he liked what they were doing, and he had done some pretty horrible things when he didn't like what they were doing. He had proven himself mightier than the gods of all the people the Israelites conquered, to the point of providing for the Israelites the security of homes they didn't build and the abundance of vineyards and orchards they didn't plant. The story-book version of the Israelite god is not someone to whom you can easily say No.
Which brings us to Joshua's last inspirational speech. He leads the Israelites in a reaffirmation of their communal faith. And if they weren't willing to devote themselves to the god that provided so much and threatened so effectively, he commanded them to choose what other deity they were going to serve, the gods of their forefathers or the gods of the surrounding cultures. Not much of a choice. It's the kind of tactic that strategic parents use: "Would you like to clean your room, or would you like for me to take away your video game privileges for a week?" You can defy the logical choice, but there's a cost.
What if there were other choices, though? As far as people or ideals to serve, there are many more choices than what Joshua mentioned in his ritualized reaffirmation ceremony. Some people serve the ideals of patriotism, some people serve money, some people serve their children, some people serve nature, some people serve a particular corporation, some people serve aesthetic beauty, and more. Some people serve more than one thing in a meaningful way. It's worth knowing what you serve, but it isn't necessarily an either-or decision.
It isn't enough to say, "I serve myself," because that's what everyone does when it comes down to it. Did the Israelites have a better choice for self-preservation than to agree with Joshua? It wouldn't have been really self-serving to provoke the wrath of their god. It also isn't enough to say, "I serve God." Which one? The biblical God? There is no such thing. The biblical depiction of God is an inconsistent patchwork that evolved over time as a culture developed. Which version of the biblical God do you serve? Whatever your answer is, you will be defining the divine character based as much on personal beliefs as on biblical depictions. What matters to you about the character of God is based on what matters to you personally.
Joshua's admonition still has some value. You don't have to choose "this day;" there's no pressure. It's worth a little thought, though. What or whom do you serve? It may be more than one thing. What does it mean to serve? Does it mean mindless obedience? Does it mean fear of consequences? Or does it mean heartfelt devotion mixed with autonomy? Do you bring your full self into service, or do you shut down part of who you are in order to serve? Are you trying to serve something that really doesn't matter to you, just because someone said you should? If it didn't matter what other people thought of you, what or whom would you serve?
As for me, I will serve my divine self -- the insight, beauty, and creativity at the core of who I am. Through that deep self, I am awed and inspired by the world around me. Through that deep self, I can trust in my ability to find satisfying solutions to the challenges I face. Through that deep self, I can see the divine character of other people more clearly, and I can think of them and treat them in a way that honors them, that reflects a respect for their capability, even when they are not fully embracing that capability themselves. Through serving my divine self, I can be honest about what matters to me and make clear decisions that contribute to a fulfilling life. And from that deep self I can boldly connect with other people and share life with them.
That service is not easy. I believe things about myself that are not true. I believe lies about other people and about the networks and systems we create. I make decisions out of irrational fear from time to time. I serve my self imperfectly. Just like everyone else. I also forgive myself from that deep well and continue serving, and that brings me delight and satisfaction.
We all serve something. Know what you serve.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The End of the Beginning: Concluding Genesis and Articulating Spiritual Premises to Move Beyond the Biblical Purpose of Cultural Preservation
Except for an odd tale of intrigue in Genesis 38 and a scene in which God renames Jacob "Israel" (even though the stranger Jacob wrestled with by the stream had already done so), the remainder of Genesis is about Joseph, one of Jacob's sons. It is through Joseph that Jacob and his children wind up settling in Egypt, which is important for the cultural narrative of the Jewish people. Basically, the story is that Joseph's brothers conspired to kill him because he was Jacob's favorite (and Joseph had prophetic dreams that his brothers would be bowing down to him), but then decided to fake his death and sell him into slavery. These are the same men that wiped out a city because their sister had been defiled, but perhaps matters are different when it's your little brother that Daddy likes best.
Through various events, Joseph gets himself into and out of prison in Egypt and winds up as an influential overseer helping Egypt prepare for a coming famine. Jacob's other sons go to Egypt to buy grain, and Joseph toys with them for a few trips before revealing that he is their brother, alive and well and bearing no grudge against them. He tells them to get everyone from Canaan and come to live in Egypt, where he'll see to it that they're taken care of. Of course, things don't turn out as well for Jacob's descendents in Egypt as the generations wear on, but through the momentary use of his influence, Joseph is able to make life a little bit easier on his father and brothers.
The stated lesson derived from Joseph's story is that God was working in the actions of Joseph's brothers when they sold him into slavery; God took a malicious act and used it for good. Good toward the people who had committed the malicious act and good for the victim of the malicious act. Given the entire narrative up to this point, this benevolence may seem slightly incongruous, since the paradigm has been set that wicked people earn punishment and righteous people earn reward. In that Genesis 38 story, God even puts one of Jacob's grandsons to death because he "spills his seed on the ground" when he's supposed to be impregnating his brother's widow.
But actually, the bottom line in all of this is that God takes care of Abraham's descendents because he and Abraham had a deal. Of course, Jacob's son Judah had gone off the reservation and had children with a Canaanite woman, so his children from that marriage weren't covered by the deal. Thus, when Judah's sons do wrong by God's standards, they get instant death. The God of the Old Testament is more of a cultural deity than a moral absolutist, and it's clear that the primary goal of the book of Genesis is cultural preservation.
If we twenty-first century people are interested in spiritual truth, in an understanding of the divine that has meaning for us in our lives, we cannot accept the Jewish deity as he is presented in the Old Testament. This is why the New Testament is necessary for Christians, although many of them continue to look back at the culture and narrative of Genesis to determine how people and governments should behave today. There is certainly some value in the spiritual truth conveyed in the Bible, but that truth is not always what people focus on when they look to scripture. An abundance of cultural clutter gets in the way.
So, putting aside the cultural narrative and recognizing that people universally have much more commonality than they have difference, how can the book most Westerners turn to for spiritual guidance be re-evaluated? There are some foundational assumptions that will guide us forward, and I've already articulated most of them through our look at Genesis:
First, spiritual truth is not the same as historical or factual accuracy. Concern for validating the historical accuracy of what is written is a distraction from seeing spiritual truth that can be meaningfully applied in day-to-day life.
Second, people are not broken or in need of some external redemption. Human beings have value because human beings have value. People are capable of making decisions and taking actions without having to attribute the outcome to a deity or external spiritual entity. When things go well, people are worthy of acknowledgment, and when things go poorly, people are strong enough to handle the criticism.
Third, that which people call the divine is a human characteristic. The divine is the deep sense of truth, beauty, and creativity within every person. Sometimes it is hidden, and sometimes it is more obvious. The divine is a part of ourselves. We are capable of ignoring it or working actively against it, and we are capable of tuning into it and trusting it. It is the stranger we wrestle with internally when we are of two minds about something. It is the voice that defends us to our internal critic. It is the vision within us that connects us to the world, other people, and ourselves.
Fourth, we exist in the finite spectrum of an earthly life. What happens after a person dies is a matter of faith, but we do know with certainty that we have an impact on the people around us. If there is good that we are capable of doing, it is up to us to do it. If there is any reason to seek reconciliation with someone, it is up to us to ask for and offer human forgiveness. We have the precious resources of this world and the people around us at our disposal for only a lifetime; it is up to us to value them.
Through various events, Joseph gets himself into and out of prison in Egypt and winds up as an influential overseer helping Egypt prepare for a coming famine. Jacob's other sons go to Egypt to buy grain, and Joseph toys with them for a few trips before revealing that he is their brother, alive and well and bearing no grudge against them. He tells them to get everyone from Canaan and come to live in Egypt, where he'll see to it that they're taken care of. Of course, things don't turn out as well for Jacob's descendents in Egypt as the generations wear on, but through the momentary use of his influence, Joseph is able to make life a little bit easier on his father and brothers.
The stated lesson derived from Joseph's story is that God was working in the actions of Joseph's brothers when they sold him into slavery; God took a malicious act and used it for good. Good toward the people who had committed the malicious act and good for the victim of the malicious act. Given the entire narrative up to this point, this benevolence may seem slightly incongruous, since the paradigm has been set that wicked people earn punishment and righteous people earn reward. In that Genesis 38 story, God even puts one of Jacob's grandsons to death because he "spills his seed on the ground" when he's supposed to be impregnating his brother's widow.
But actually, the bottom line in all of this is that God takes care of Abraham's descendents because he and Abraham had a deal. Of course, Jacob's son Judah had gone off the reservation and had children with a Canaanite woman, so his children from that marriage weren't covered by the deal. Thus, when Judah's sons do wrong by God's standards, they get instant death. The God of the Old Testament is more of a cultural deity than a moral absolutist, and it's clear that the primary goal of the book of Genesis is cultural preservation.
If we twenty-first century people are interested in spiritual truth, in an understanding of the divine that has meaning for us in our lives, we cannot accept the Jewish deity as he is presented in the Old Testament. This is why the New Testament is necessary for Christians, although many of them continue to look back at the culture and narrative of Genesis to determine how people and governments should behave today. There is certainly some value in the spiritual truth conveyed in the Bible, but that truth is not always what people focus on when they look to scripture. An abundance of cultural clutter gets in the way.
So, putting aside the cultural narrative and recognizing that people universally have much more commonality than they have difference, how can the book most Westerners turn to for spiritual guidance be re-evaluated? There are some foundational assumptions that will guide us forward, and I've already articulated most of them through our look at Genesis:
First, spiritual truth is not the same as historical or factual accuracy. Concern for validating the historical accuracy of what is written is a distraction from seeing spiritual truth that can be meaningfully applied in day-to-day life.
Second, people are not broken or in need of some external redemption. Human beings have value because human beings have value. People are capable of making decisions and taking actions without having to attribute the outcome to a deity or external spiritual entity. When things go well, people are worthy of acknowledgment, and when things go poorly, people are strong enough to handle the criticism.
Third, that which people call the divine is a human characteristic. The divine is the deep sense of truth, beauty, and creativity within every person. Sometimes it is hidden, and sometimes it is more obvious. The divine is a part of ourselves. We are capable of ignoring it or working actively against it, and we are capable of tuning into it and trusting it. It is the stranger we wrestle with internally when we are of two minds about something. It is the voice that defends us to our internal critic. It is the vision within us that connects us to the world, other people, and ourselves.
Fourth, we exist in the finite spectrum of an earthly life. What happens after a person dies is a matter of faith, but we do know with certainty that we have an impact on the people around us. If there is good that we are capable of doing, it is up to us to do it. If there is any reason to seek reconciliation with someone, it is up to us to ask for and offer human forgiveness. We have the precious resources of this world and the people around us at our disposal for only a lifetime; it is up to us to value them.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Why the Concept of Scriptural Inerrancy Is a Matter of Faith and Not Evidence
There are those who believe that the Bible is true, and there are those who believe that the Bible is not true. Among these groups, there are a number of refinements that can be made. Sometimes beliefs form out of an opinion regarding one specific aspect of scriptural content. Some may think that the miracle stories are far-fetched, or that the creation story is not to be taken literally, but they think the historical and geographic record is more or less based on fact. Incidentally, this is the camp where I usually place myself. Some who claim that the Bible is true mean more or less the same thing, except that they probably believe in the divinity of Jesus and the validity of the resurrection. In fact, many times when people say that the Bible is true or not true, they are really expressing their belief about one very specific event in the Bible: the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.
Many Christians understand that this is a matter of faith. One cannot prove much about even the existence of Jesus, since there is so little trustworthy information about him outside of the scripture. If something is a matter of faith, then by definition it must be believed without concrete proof, and many people of faith understand this. It causes some problems when believers insist that other people believe the same things they do, at which point having convincing evidence makes a bit more of a difference.
Thus the “truth” of the Bible enters a prominent place in the discussion. Some people determined that if the Bible was accepted as absolutely true, then there should be no question about the existence, divinity, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus, nor should there be any doubt about the need for salvation and the gift of grace. Likewise, if any part of the Bible is seen as fantastical or outright falsehood, then the value of the passion story is potentially jeopardized. It is as if faith needs at least some supporting facts for some people. Thus, every time an archaeologist makes a discovery that coincides with a Biblical account of geography, some of these proponents of scriptural inerrancy claim, “See, the Bible is true! Every last bit of it.”
There are some problems with the concept of scriptural inerrancy, and the biggest problem is the absolutism of the idea. If one part of a story is factually accurate, one cannot assume that the entire tale is factually accurate. Suppose I told you that there is a Recognized Bank building on the corner of Willow Avenue and Market Street, and on the 12th floor of that bank building, there is a law office. In that law office, there works a secretary who is a vampire, and she keeps blood packets in the break room. With just my story to go on, you might think, “There’s no such thing as vampires, this story can’t possibly be true.” But, when you drive past the corner of Willow Avenue and Market Street and see the big Recognized Bank building, do you then suddenly believe the whole thing? Do you accept that there is a vampire working in a law office on the 12th floor of that building, just because you have verified one aspect of my story?
You wouldn’t have to accept it as true, of course. You could look into the matter. You could go to the 12th floor and see if there was a law office there. You could examine the secretary. You could investigate the break room. If any part of my story is false, it doesn’t erase the fact that the building is exactly where I claimed it to be. It is completely plausible that one fact in my story checks out and another detail turns out to be false. So proving one fact that was recorded in the Bible only proves that one specific fact. It does nothing to prove any other scriptural claim.
“Ah,” some might say, “but we have verified the trustworthiness of the writer. If he is right about one fact, why should we doubt the rest of what he wrote?” (Yes, I think some people may have slept right through the vampire secretary example.) Which scriptural writer are we to trust, exactly? The biblical canon was composed over a number of generations by a number of different people, and the decision about what to include or leave out of the Bible was made hundreds of years later by a completely different group of men (at the Council of Trent in the 16th century). There is no one writer for us to trust, even if it made sense to think that a person’s story is more trustworthy because they placed it in San Diego rather than Gotham City. Sure, San Diego exists, but that doesn’t mean that every story placed in San Diego is true.
Aside from the historical accuracy argument, there are really no other logical principles on which scriptural inerrancy is based. Some would say that the Bible claims to be true, and therefore it must be, because God cannot lie. This entirely self-referential argument cannot be accepted as evidence to anyone seeking any kind of proof. One cannot verify the accuracy of a written document simply by virtue of an author’s claim. In fact, every so often, a new book catches everyone’s attention because of the revealing “insider” details it contains, and everyone is equally disappointed to learn that the author made up most of the story. Anyone who needs the Bible to be infallible or inerrant in order for their faith to be bolstered would surely understand the problem of a self-referential justification.
Claiming the Bible to be absolutely and completely true based on church history and tradition isn’t any better. This is really just a self-referential argument by proxy. It would be like your friend telling you about the vampire secretary and claiming that it was true because he heard from a trustworthy source. You may trust your friend, and your friend may trust the story’s source, but if there is no way to check a source other than blind trust, then we are talking about faith, not provability.
The only claim that makes any sense with regard to Biblical inerrancy is one that does not attempt to convince anyone else. There is nothing wrong with a believer who claims, “I believe that the Bible is completely true.” If personal experience and reason have led an individual to a statement of faith—belief in something which cannot be proven—that is a matter of personal choice. No one else need accept that belief in order for it to have value, and no archeological discovery can strengthen or weaken a determined belief. Only the individual can determine the criteria by which to accept or reject the validity of spiritual writings, and those criteria don’t need to have the same meaning for anyone else.
Ultimately, a belief in scriptural inerrancy is entirely a matter of faith. If one actually looks closely enough at scriptures, one is confronted with some inconsistencies. While this may not bother someone looking for the spiritual truth underlying the words, when someone needs for the text to be completely accurate, it presents a problem. On the matter of spiritual truth, one must also deal with how to interpret what is written. One must be discerning to know when people claim to speak biblical truth that they are not actually conveying a personal interpretation. There is no “one truth” of the Bible, no absolutely correct way to interpret what is written on its pages. If it were so, then Christians would be united under one banner instead of bickering back and forth among and within various denominations and factions.
My perspective in writing this sequence of scriptural interpretations is not to prove or disprove anything, although I will state clearly that I do not believe that the Bible is entirely accurate or trustworthy. I approach it with a skeptical lens, to be sure, and at the same time I want to see what is spiritually valid and appropriate for our time. The Bible provides a spiritual jumping off point, because it is familiar to me and to so many other people. What I write is what I see as truth, in the hopes that I will inspire other people to think for themselves and discover or claim a deeper truth for their lives, even if their truth is different from mine.
Many Christians understand that this is a matter of faith. One cannot prove much about even the existence of Jesus, since there is so little trustworthy information about him outside of the scripture. If something is a matter of faith, then by definition it must be believed without concrete proof, and many people of faith understand this. It causes some problems when believers insist that other people believe the same things they do, at which point having convincing evidence makes a bit more of a difference.
Thus the “truth” of the Bible enters a prominent place in the discussion. Some people determined that if the Bible was accepted as absolutely true, then there should be no question about the existence, divinity, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus, nor should there be any doubt about the need for salvation and the gift of grace. Likewise, if any part of the Bible is seen as fantastical or outright falsehood, then the value of the passion story is potentially jeopardized. It is as if faith needs at least some supporting facts for some people. Thus, every time an archaeologist makes a discovery that coincides with a Biblical account of geography, some of these proponents of scriptural inerrancy claim, “See, the Bible is true! Every last bit of it.”
There are some problems with the concept of scriptural inerrancy, and the biggest problem is the absolutism of the idea. If one part of a story is factually accurate, one cannot assume that the entire tale is factually accurate. Suppose I told you that there is a Recognized Bank building on the corner of Willow Avenue and Market Street, and on the 12th floor of that bank building, there is a law office. In that law office, there works a secretary who is a vampire, and she keeps blood packets in the break room. With just my story to go on, you might think, “There’s no such thing as vampires, this story can’t possibly be true.” But, when you drive past the corner of Willow Avenue and Market Street and see the big Recognized Bank building, do you then suddenly believe the whole thing? Do you accept that there is a vampire working in a law office on the 12th floor of that building, just because you have verified one aspect of my story?
You wouldn’t have to accept it as true, of course. You could look into the matter. You could go to the 12th floor and see if there was a law office there. You could examine the secretary. You could investigate the break room. If any part of my story is false, it doesn’t erase the fact that the building is exactly where I claimed it to be. It is completely plausible that one fact in my story checks out and another detail turns out to be false. So proving one fact that was recorded in the Bible only proves that one specific fact. It does nothing to prove any other scriptural claim.
“Ah,” some might say, “but we have verified the trustworthiness of the writer. If he is right about one fact, why should we doubt the rest of what he wrote?” (Yes, I think some people may have slept right through the vampire secretary example.) Which scriptural writer are we to trust, exactly? The biblical canon was composed over a number of generations by a number of different people, and the decision about what to include or leave out of the Bible was made hundreds of years later by a completely different group of men (at the Council of Trent in the 16th century). There is no one writer for us to trust, even if it made sense to think that a person’s story is more trustworthy because they placed it in San Diego rather than Gotham City. Sure, San Diego exists, but that doesn’t mean that every story placed in San Diego is true.
Aside from the historical accuracy argument, there are really no other logical principles on which scriptural inerrancy is based. Some would say that the Bible claims to be true, and therefore it must be, because God cannot lie. This entirely self-referential argument cannot be accepted as evidence to anyone seeking any kind of proof. One cannot verify the accuracy of a written document simply by virtue of an author’s claim. In fact, every so often, a new book catches everyone’s attention because of the revealing “insider” details it contains, and everyone is equally disappointed to learn that the author made up most of the story. Anyone who needs the Bible to be infallible or inerrant in order for their faith to be bolstered would surely understand the problem of a self-referential justification.
Claiming the Bible to be absolutely and completely true based on church history and tradition isn’t any better. This is really just a self-referential argument by proxy. It would be like your friend telling you about the vampire secretary and claiming that it was true because he heard from a trustworthy source. You may trust your friend, and your friend may trust the story’s source, but if there is no way to check a source other than blind trust, then we are talking about faith, not provability.
The only claim that makes any sense with regard to Biblical inerrancy is one that does not attempt to convince anyone else. There is nothing wrong with a believer who claims, “I believe that the Bible is completely true.” If personal experience and reason have led an individual to a statement of faith—belief in something which cannot be proven—that is a matter of personal choice. No one else need accept that belief in order for it to have value, and no archeological discovery can strengthen or weaken a determined belief. Only the individual can determine the criteria by which to accept or reject the validity of spiritual writings, and those criteria don’t need to have the same meaning for anyone else.
Ultimately, a belief in scriptural inerrancy is entirely a matter of faith. If one actually looks closely enough at scriptures, one is confronted with some inconsistencies. While this may not bother someone looking for the spiritual truth underlying the words, when someone needs for the text to be completely accurate, it presents a problem. On the matter of spiritual truth, one must also deal with how to interpret what is written. One must be discerning to know when people claim to speak biblical truth that they are not actually conveying a personal interpretation. There is no “one truth” of the Bible, no absolutely correct way to interpret what is written on its pages. If it were so, then Christians would be united under one banner instead of bickering back and forth among and within various denominations and factions.
My perspective in writing this sequence of scriptural interpretations is not to prove or disprove anything, although I will state clearly that I do not believe that the Bible is entirely accurate or trustworthy. I approach it with a skeptical lens, to be sure, and at the same time I want to see what is spiritually valid and appropriate for our time. The Bible provides a spiritual jumping off point, because it is familiar to me and to so many other people. What I write is what I see as truth, in the hopes that I will inspire other people to think for themselves and discover or claim a deeper truth for their lives, even if their truth is different from mine.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
The Wisdom of Acknowledging Similarities over Differences: Rewriting Genesis 11
One of the most familiar biblical tales, the story of the Tower of Babel appears in Genesis 11. It makes sense to blame or credit a divine force for the dispersion of cultures and peoples, and from the context, it even seems like this was considered a wise thing to do. My revision, or course, stems from a radically different perspective.
We like to notice differences. It’s something that our brains do well. Differences in language, for example. Some might say that if it weren’t for our differences, we could accomplish just about anything as a unified people. But when we start looking for differences between people, the list is nearly unending. Every culture has its own unique way of doing things, its own stories, its own songs, its own language. Every family has its own unique history, its own traditions, its own inside jokes. Every person has unique experiences, beliefs, strengths and weaknesses. However minutely we might want to parse groups or individuals into different categories, there are innumerable differences we can use as criteria.
Like children with a healthy sense of curiosity, we may notice all of these differences and wonder why. Why are we not all the same? Why do we have different stories, different songs, different traditions, different strengths? Some people think there must be a good reason for us to have so many differences. There must be a good reason for us to have such an obstacle in the way of accomplishing the great things we could do if we shared more in common. Some of us might conclude that a higher power must have ordained the vast differences we observe.
Of course, there’s also something within us that hates to be wrong. If someone does something or believes something differently from us, then we slip easily into judging which is right and which is wrong. Most of the time, we are quite insistent that our language or beliefs or traditions are right, and therefore those that are different must be wrong. If we have the approval of a higher power supporting us, then we have even more reason to be convinced of our own rightness.
If we take a step back to the question of why all these differences exist, there’s a possibility that we don’t really need an answer. Merely accepting that there are differences between people and families and cultures might even lead us to look for commonalities. Not only does the list of commonalities between people extend at least as far as any tally of differences, the truth and beauty and creativity at the heart of every person certainly outweighs any differences we may perceive. In fact, that very sense of truth and creativity is what allows us to overcome any challenges that arise because of differences.
The 21st-century world has room for a multitude of beliefs and traditions and songs and languages. While there are ethical and moral circumstances in which right and wrong are legitimate concerns, our personal beliefs and cultural traditions are not truly threatened if we give credence to the beliefs and traditions of others. Humanity is full of differences, but human creativity, persistence, and ingenuity have devised ways to overcome those differences time and again. We are actually alike enough that it is essentially as though we all share a common language. When we truly acknowledge all that we share in common with one another, nothing we plan to do in unity will be impossible for us.
We like to notice differences. It’s something that our brains do well. Differences in language, for example. Some might say that if it weren’t for our differences, we could accomplish just about anything as a unified people. But when we start looking for differences between people, the list is nearly unending. Every culture has its own unique way of doing things, its own stories, its own songs, its own language. Every family has its own unique history, its own traditions, its own inside jokes. Every person has unique experiences, beliefs, strengths and weaknesses. However minutely we might want to parse groups or individuals into different categories, there are innumerable differences we can use as criteria.
Like children with a healthy sense of curiosity, we may notice all of these differences and wonder why. Why are we not all the same? Why do we have different stories, different songs, different traditions, different strengths? Some people think there must be a good reason for us to have so many differences. There must be a good reason for us to have such an obstacle in the way of accomplishing the great things we could do if we shared more in common. Some of us might conclude that a higher power must have ordained the vast differences we observe.
Of course, there’s also something within us that hates to be wrong. If someone does something or believes something differently from us, then we slip easily into judging which is right and which is wrong. Most of the time, we are quite insistent that our language or beliefs or traditions are right, and therefore those that are different must be wrong. If we have the approval of a higher power supporting us, then we have even more reason to be convinced of our own rightness.
If we take a step back to the question of why all these differences exist, there’s a possibility that we don’t really need an answer. Merely accepting that there are differences between people and families and cultures might even lead us to look for commonalities. Not only does the list of commonalities between people extend at least as far as any tally of differences, the truth and beauty and creativity at the heart of every person certainly outweighs any differences we may perceive. In fact, that very sense of truth and creativity is what allows us to overcome any challenges that arise because of differences.
The 21st-century world has room for a multitude of beliefs and traditions and songs and languages. While there are ethical and moral circumstances in which right and wrong are legitimate concerns, our personal beliefs and cultural traditions are not truly threatened if we give credence to the beliefs and traditions of others. Humanity is full of differences, but human creativity, persistence, and ingenuity have devised ways to overcome those differences time and again. We are actually alike enough that it is essentially as though we all share a common language. When we truly acknowledge all that we share in common with one another, nothing we plan to do in unity will be impossible for us.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Does the Bible Need to be Rewritten?
Short answer: no. The Christian community appreciates the Bible just as it is, some even preferring outdated or inaccurate translations in favor of more familiar language. Translations of the Bible improve in accuracy as scholars learn more, and translations also evolve with the language of human cultures. Paraphrases opt for accessibility over accuracy and use more contemporary language to tell the same stories, seeking to preserve the same meaning and spiritual honesty of scriptures without being precise about the best English translation of the ancient Greek and Hebrew.
As you may have surmised from my reinterpretation of the first two chapters of Genesis, I've launched a bit of a paraphrase project. I don't know how far I will take it, but it could be of some value to articulate the purpose for it. Obviously, I'm not going for a literal translation. Rather, I am aiming for spiritual truth. This means that there may be some dialogue along the way that helps to refine a thing or two, which is why I think this interactive venue is ideal for a project like this.
Why the Bible? I believe that the same core spiritual truths can be found in the writing other religions hold as sacred. Even though I've studied many of these books, I'm still most familiar with the Christian Bible. I am at least in part a product of my environment, and that environment is a largely Christian-influenced culture. I hope that anyone who wants to can gain some insight from what I write, regardless of their beliefs or their level of familiarity with the book.
What's the point? While the Bible doesn't necessarily need to be rewritten for Christians to be happy with it, I also think that its words get frequently misused by people that want to cite an unquestionable authority. For some, quoting scripture is tantamount to quoting God, and no one can really argue with God. But words can be twisted around and taken out of context and interpreted to suit a particular agenda. My goal is to draw forth spiritual truth without claiming to quote the actual words of an almighty being, to develop and encourage a deep understanding of human spirituality outside of organized religion.
Isn't that disrespectful? While I do consider myself to be post-Christian in my thinking, I still believe that spirituality has a place in human culture and relationships. If people choose to express that faith in terms of a particular religious system, my hope is that they would do so with honesty and thoughtfulness. Perhaps my take on things will challenge or inspire someone to take a closer look at personal beliefs, but my goal is not to insult or denigrate anyone's choice of spiritual expression.
On top of that, the most likely people to consider a personal interpretation of the Bible to be disrespectful are those who hold the Bible to be higher than any other spiritual authority. What better place to begin a dialogue aimed at deepening spiritual integrity? My sense is that people with less attachment to the Bible as the only source of spiritual knowledge will have less reason to take issue with a recontextualization of its words. I may be wrong, but I'm willing to take that chance.
So, next week, I'll delve a little further into Genesis and see where it all winds up. Any dialogue that emerges will hopefully sharpen us all.
As you may have surmised from my reinterpretation of the first two chapters of Genesis, I've launched a bit of a paraphrase project. I don't know how far I will take it, but it could be of some value to articulate the purpose for it. Obviously, I'm not going for a literal translation. Rather, I am aiming for spiritual truth. This means that there may be some dialogue along the way that helps to refine a thing or two, which is why I think this interactive venue is ideal for a project like this.
Why the Bible? I believe that the same core spiritual truths can be found in the writing other religions hold as sacred. Even though I've studied many of these books, I'm still most familiar with the Christian Bible. I am at least in part a product of my environment, and that environment is a largely Christian-influenced culture. I hope that anyone who wants to can gain some insight from what I write, regardless of their beliefs or their level of familiarity with the book.
What's the point? While the Bible doesn't necessarily need to be rewritten for Christians to be happy with it, I also think that its words get frequently misused by people that want to cite an unquestionable authority. For some, quoting scripture is tantamount to quoting God, and no one can really argue with God. But words can be twisted around and taken out of context and interpreted to suit a particular agenda. My goal is to draw forth spiritual truth without claiming to quote the actual words of an almighty being, to develop and encourage a deep understanding of human spirituality outside of organized religion.
Isn't that disrespectful? While I do consider myself to be post-Christian in my thinking, I still believe that spirituality has a place in human culture and relationships. If people choose to express that faith in terms of a particular religious system, my hope is that they would do so with honesty and thoughtfulness. Perhaps my take on things will challenge or inspire someone to take a closer look at personal beliefs, but my goal is not to insult or denigrate anyone's choice of spiritual expression.
On top of that, the most likely people to consider a personal interpretation of the Bible to be disrespectful are those who hold the Bible to be higher than any other spiritual authority. What better place to begin a dialogue aimed at deepening spiritual integrity? My sense is that people with less attachment to the Bible as the only source of spiritual knowledge will have less reason to take issue with a recontextualization of its words. I may be wrong, but I'm willing to take that chance.
So, next week, I'll delve a little further into Genesis and see where it all winds up. Any dialogue that emerges will hopefully sharpen us all.
Monday, July 11, 2011
What Matters Most: Genesis 1-2 through a new lens
We are here in this time and place. We don’t truly know much about what happened in the beginning, although there are some plausible theories. We know more about human history, but even that has been recorded by biased hands. Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter how we got here; what matters is that we are here. Any number of beliefs can satisfy personal desires for an origin story, but none of them can change the facts of where and when we are. And we are here in this time and place.
And this is an inspiring time and place. There is truth and beauty everywhere we might choose to settle our gaze. There is truth and beauty and inspiration in the brightness of day, with its vibrant color and crisp detail. And there is truth and beauty and inspiration in the depth of night, with its myriad stars and evocative darkness.
There is truth and beauty and inspiration in the oceans, with their mysterious depths and rhythmic tides. And there is truth and beauty and inspiration in the skies, with the bright blue of midday and the full spectrum of sunrises and sunsets. There is truth and beauty and inspiration in the solid ground, whether it is red clay or shifting sand, angular stone or mist-shrouded marshland.
There is truth and beauty and inspiration in the vast variety of plant life around us, from gargantuan redwoods to dandelions, bearing fruit that is pleasing to taste and flowers that are pleasing to gaze upon. They have the capacity to nourish us, to heal us, and to teach us if we are willing to see and learn.
There is truth and beauty and inspiration in the seasons and the weather, whether in the white cold of winter or the red heat of summer, in the midst of windless calm and in the midst of the fiercest storm. And there is truth and beauty and inspiration in the creatures with which we share the planet, whether they be birds that soar across the expanse of the sky or creatures that glide on currents far beneath the surface of the water. There is truth and beauty and inspiration in the domesticated creatures we care for and the creatures who thrive in the wilderness, even the lizards and insects in our own backyards.
There is truth and beauty and inspiration in the people we encounter, whether we share with them a moment or a lifetime. In every human being there is a glimpse of what some call the divine: the very essence of truth, beauty, and creativity. Each person therefore has value by possessing that spark which is common to all of humanity. And when we are willing to see the divine in others, we are more likely to see our own honest, beautiful, and creative selves.
It is also important to rest, to remember the value of rejuvenation. Just as nature needs time of dormancy and the rejuvenation of water, so do we need times of stillness and rejuvenation for our bodies and our minds. We offer our best and receive the greatest satisfaction from life when we intersperse our experiences of activity with rest.
We are not here in this place and time to suffer or to cause suffering, but rather we are here in this place and time to respond to the truth, the beauty, and the inspiration which is all around us, to find our own unique voice and speak with boldness and love, to be truth, beauty, and inspiration for one another.
No person is an isolated being. We are at our very core relational. We are in constant relationship with the natural world around us, and we are in constant relationship with one another. These connections are as vital to us as physical nourishment.
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