We did not meet this week, so I choose to reflect on the one of the ideas in the last couple of posts. I have been pondering the question of whether or not we can fully choose God if we don't fully know "not-God." And can you equate the questioning or not feeling the holiday spirit the same as experiencing "not-God?"
I confess I have no deep understanding of the oriental concept of yin and yang, just a basic comprehension that they represent two opposing forces in creation that need each other in order to remain in balance. I have been thinking about this idea in relation to the words from one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Javier Mendoza. On his new CD's - one CD, actually, released simultaneously in English and Spanish - he writes in the song "Everything Changes" that "no hay Dios sin mal," or "you know God needs sin." That reminded me of some of our earlier conversations about evil simply being the absence of God, or choosing "not-God." It seems to me that in our theology there is an underlying but unarticulated need for that same balance. I wonder why we don't really address or name that?
So what do you think? Is the absence of God the same thing as evil? And do we need both forces in tension in order to maintain a cosmic balance? Do we have to experience "not-God" in order to fully choose God? I am still pondering...
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Sharing in the Wilderness
We will not be meeting tonight, so I thought I would take this opportunity to relate my own story of sharing in the wilderness. Last week I posted the idea that maybe we need to be in the wilderness in order to solidify and develop our own faith. Maybe it is not only OK, but necessary to feel alone, sad, barren - sometimes. Many of you know that this Learner recently lost my mother, and I have felt like I was in the desert for a couple of months now. I don't feel the joy, the reason for the season. In fact, I have been feeling very little lately. Just when I start to feel something again life throws me another knuckle-ball that makes it easier to retreat into the Cave of Solitude to wallow in guilt and petulance.
Even though I would prefer to hibernate in my cave, I have kept up with my routines for the most part, and one of them is going to the gym on a daily basis. I go early, as does a core group of "regulars." We know each others' faces and first names, but not much more. We sometimes have passing conversations but nothing deep and nothing that would really identify who we are. Still, there is a tight cohesiveness about the camaraderie born of the hour we choose. One of our regulars has been missing since about September and while I wondered why, I didn't really know enough to investigate. It was just one of life's mysteries that I allowed to simply be.
Our missing member returned recently, irregularly but often enough to be considered "back" in my mind. One morning our routines crossed in such a way that we had the opportunity to talk, to say more than just good morning as we made our way to the next machine. I discovered that not only had they lost their own mother in September, their father was declining, rapidly. We had a chat, I shared my own loss, we both teared up, completely understanding how the other felt without having to verbalize any more. We were both living in the wilderness, but it felt really good to know we were not alone.
That brought me back to Paul's second letter to the Corinthians, something I remembered only because we just studied it not too long ago. In verses 1:3-4 from The Message Paul says,
All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us.
I couldn't help but wonder and feel like that is exactly what happened for me and my friend. We were both feeling lost, alone, guilty at not being as joyous as we should, guilty for being a bit of the Grinch that some of my compatriots had complained about last week. When we had that opportune moment, provided serendipitously, we each took advantage of it and I think we both found some small comfort in each others' sharing company.
So what is my point in relating all this sadness in a season of joy? If you are feeling like you are in the wilderness, then feel it. Don't be guilty because you aren't deliriously happy about the gift of Jesus. If you are deliriously happy about Christmas, don't begrudge me my Grinchiness. Consider the possibility that I need to be Grinchy. We are each on our own faith journey, and each of our experiences can help to shape and deepen our faith if we allow it. I think the BIG lesson for me has been that I need to feel and use each emotion and experience, and remain open to God, to look and listen for the meaning. Even when I would rather hibernate in a cave.
Even though I would prefer to hibernate in my cave, I have kept up with my routines for the most part, and one of them is going to the gym on a daily basis. I go early, as does a core group of "regulars." We know each others' faces and first names, but not much more. We sometimes have passing conversations but nothing deep and nothing that would really identify who we are. Still, there is a tight cohesiveness about the camaraderie born of the hour we choose. One of our regulars has been missing since about September and while I wondered why, I didn't really know enough to investigate. It was just one of life's mysteries that I allowed to simply be.
Our missing member returned recently, irregularly but often enough to be considered "back" in my mind. One morning our routines crossed in such a way that we had the opportunity to talk, to say more than just good morning as we made our way to the next machine. I discovered that not only had they lost their own mother in September, their father was declining, rapidly. We had a chat, I shared my own loss, we both teared up, completely understanding how the other felt without having to verbalize any more. We were both living in the wilderness, but it felt really good to know we were not alone.
That brought me back to Paul's second letter to the Corinthians, something I remembered only because we just studied it not too long ago. In verses 1:3-4 from The Message Paul says,
All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us.
I couldn't help but wonder and feel like that is exactly what happened for me and my friend. We were both feeling lost, alone, guilty at not being as joyous as we should, guilty for being a bit of the Grinch that some of my compatriots had complained about last week. When we had that opportune moment, provided serendipitously, we each took advantage of it and I think we both found some small comfort in each others' sharing company.
So what is my point in relating all this sadness in a season of joy? If you are feeling like you are in the wilderness, then feel it. Don't be guilty because you aren't deliriously happy about the gift of Jesus. If you are deliriously happy about Christmas, don't begrudge me my Grinchiness. Consider the possibility that I need to be Grinchy. We are each on our own faith journey, and each of our experiences can help to shape and deepen our faith if we allow it. I think the BIG lesson for me has been that I need to feel and use each emotion and experience, and remain open to God, to look and listen for the meaning. Even when I would rather hibernate in a cave.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Making It About Me
Here it is, Friday morning, and I am really regretting not having written this sooner. Part of it was work, part of it was errands (including groceries for the college kids who are coming home), and part of it was I'm just not feeling "it" this year. So to sit down and discuss the interweaving of the themes of light, fulfillment and joy in the different versions of the birth story just felt too happy and centered and celebratory for me. At least for the last day or two. I am doing my best to be faithful to our discussion and hope I reflect the light-fulfillment-joy theme as well as the meditation from Barbara Brown Taylor on the Gospel of Mark and the coming of John the Baptist, the voice in the wilderness.
Surely our understood stories of the birth and the actual accounts in the Bible chronicle over and over Jesus as light, as the fulfillment of prophecy and God's promises, and as the joy of Heaven and Earth at His birth. If you consider the event in context you have to wonder really, what value is there in Jesus' birth? From our perspective 2,000 years later we have a pretty good idea of how things are going to turn out, but the shepherds, the wise men, the others who came to worship, they only had what the angels told them and the prophecies to fall back on. It would appear that each one of them felt that Jesus was being born for them, personally and individually, not for "the people." They didn't just know it, they felt it, clearly and deeply.
That led us to a discussion of how difficult it can be to avoid the commercialization of Christmas and remain focused on the celebration of Jesus' birth. It can be really hard to be joyful when you are surrounded by Grinches. But as one of our members very astutely pointed out, you have to know that Jesus came for you personally - just as the shepherds and others did so long ago. You have to egocentrically internalize that knowledge so that you don't just know it, you feel it. Sounds right, but it seems to me that this kind of "selfish" attitude is in direct opposition to both the religious and secular focus on reaching out and selflessly helping others at this time of the year. You want to be selfish and think about Jesus coming just for you?! Well, go ahead, but guess where you are going?!
Then we moved on to the essay on the message of John the Baptist, that we all need to start over again with this birth, be washed clean, and pay attention to the thing that God was going to do right in front of us. John was nowhere near a church, and indeed the people who clung to the familiar and stayed in the church never heard his message. Can that happen to us? Do we get so caught up in maintaining the "form" of worship that we forget the "function"? And are the wilderness and the light mutually exclusive? I think there is light in the wilderness, and sometimes we need to go to a barren spiritual place in order to be able to see the light. Maybe it is OK to be in the wilderness, even at this joyous time of the year. And maybe it is OK to not feel that joy or believe in the way that others would have us believe. And maybe, just maybe, being in the wilderness is a part of our spiritual journey that will not only lead us, but force us to make the celebration about us, about the very personal gift that is just for me.
Surely our understood stories of the birth and the actual accounts in the Bible chronicle over and over Jesus as light, as the fulfillment of prophecy and God's promises, and as the joy of Heaven and Earth at His birth. If you consider the event in context you have to wonder really, what value is there in Jesus' birth? From our perspective 2,000 years later we have a pretty good idea of how things are going to turn out, but the shepherds, the wise men, the others who came to worship, they only had what the angels told them and the prophecies to fall back on. It would appear that each one of them felt that Jesus was being born for them, personally and individually, not for "the people." They didn't just know it, they felt it, clearly and deeply.
That led us to a discussion of how difficult it can be to avoid the commercialization of Christmas and remain focused on the celebration of Jesus' birth. It can be really hard to be joyful when you are surrounded by Grinches. But as one of our members very astutely pointed out, you have to know that Jesus came for you personally - just as the shepherds and others did so long ago. You have to egocentrically internalize that knowledge so that you don't just know it, you feel it. Sounds right, but it seems to me that this kind of "selfish" attitude is in direct opposition to both the religious and secular focus on reaching out and selflessly helping others at this time of the year. You want to be selfish and think about Jesus coming just for you?! Well, go ahead, but guess where you are going?!
Then we moved on to the essay on the message of John the Baptist, that we all need to start over again with this birth, be washed clean, and pay attention to the thing that God was going to do right in front of us. John was nowhere near a church, and indeed the people who clung to the familiar and stayed in the church never heard his message. Can that happen to us? Do we get so caught up in maintaining the "form" of worship that we forget the "function"? And are the wilderness and the light mutually exclusive? I think there is light in the wilderness, and sometimes we need to go to a barren spiritual place in order to be able to see the light. Maybe it is OK to be in the wilderness, even at this joyous time of the year. And maybe it is OK to not feel that joy or believe in the way that others would have us believe. And maybe, just maybe, being in the wilderness is a part of our spiritual journey that will not only lead us, but force us to make the celebration about us, about the very personal gift that is just for me.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Health for All
Most of you know already, we didn't meet this week because our leader was sick. In this cold and flu season it seems appropriate to ask for prayers for health for all of us!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Who Are You?
Who are you? How would you answer if someone asked you that question? I would describe myself, my work, but the majority of my answer would probably have to do with my family, past and present.
Why do people today track their genealogy? Some of the reasons include that it provides a connection or sense of belonging; it allows the passing on of history; it gives us a context in which to understand the world; it is an inter-generational activity, that builds cohesive families; it provides a means of preserving tradition and culture; it provides a legacy to pass on to future generations; it provides a sense of identity. It seems to me that Matthew and Luke accomplished all of those things and more in the few verses used to list the genealogy of Jesus.
In some ways the genealogies of Jesus in Matthew and Luke are an exercise in compare and contrast. They draw parallels between Moses and Jesus - Herod/Pharaoh killing all the baby boys, families going to extraordinary lengths to protect their sons, both would deliver their people from slavery and the powers of evil. Then there is the contrast between Matthew and Luke, the way they tell the story. Matthew starts with Abraham and lists each person by name, Luke starts with Jesus and works back, listing each as the son of _____. Matthew includes the Sermon on the Mount, echoing Moses receiving the Law, while Luke includes the Sermon on the Plain. Matthew writes from a male (Joseph) perspective, Luke from a female (Mary). Surprisingly, neither genealogy includes Moses or Joseph, two great heroes of the Old Testament. It seems pretty clear, though, that both are tying Jesus back to the source of the original covenant, to Abraham and to God, in order to refute the Roman claims that Caesar was the son of God.
I found our discussion of the structural messages really intriguing. For instance, Matthew groups his genealogy into three sections of fourteen "generations" each. I decided to do a quick Google search for the significance of numbers in the Bible, and found surprising agreement on what each number represents. Fourteen is a doubly strong (7) spiritual perfection and completeness, and three has to do with viewing things in their entirety, complete and solid. Can you then interpret that genealogical listing as being spiritually stronger, more complete and whole than anything Caesar could post?
There are a lot of fives in Matthew. He mentions Jesus as Messiah five times. There are five women named in the genealogy, the fifth being Mary. There are five dreams and five prophetic fulfillments in chapters one and two. All of the restating and expansion of the Ten Commandments is found in the fifth chapter of Matthew. And just what does the number five represent? Grace, favor.
Matthew and Luke told their audiences exactly who Jesus was, in terms that they would understand and comprehend in ways that are lost on us. Both versions include people who send the unspoken message that God is intentional in acting, things will be accomplished in God's time, God uses everyone in accomplishing His purposes and invites everyone into relationship. Maybe I won't sleep through the next genealogy.
Why do people today track their genealogy? Some of the reasons include that it provides a connection or sense of belonging; it allows the passing on of history; it gives us a context in which to understand the world; it is an inter-generational activity, that builds cohesive families; it provides a means of preserving tradition and culture; it provides a legacy to pass on to future generations; it provides a sense of identity. It seems to me that Matthew and Luke accomplished all of those things and more in the few verses used to list the genealogy of Jesus.
In some ways the genealogies of Jesus in Matthew and Luke are an exercise in compare and contrast. They draw parallels between Moses and Jesus - Herod/Pharaoh killing all the baby boys, families going to extraordinary lengths to protect their sons, both would deliver their people from slavery and the powers of evil. Then there is the contrast between Matthew and Luke, the way they tell the story. Matthew starts with Abraham and lists each person by name, Luke starts with Jesus and works back, listing each as the son of _____. Matthew includes the Sermon on the Mount, echoing Moses receiving the Law, while Luke includes the Sermon on the Plain. Matthew writes from a male (Joseph) perspective, Luke from a female (Mary). Surprisingly, neither genealogy includes Moses or Joseph, two great heroes of the Old Testament. It seems pretty clear, though, that both are tying Jesus back to the source of the original covenant, to Abraham and to God, in order to refute the Roman claims that Caesar was the son of God.
I found our discussion of the structural messages really intriguing. For instance, Matthew groups his genealogy into three sections of fourteen "generations" each. I decided to do a quick Google search for the significance of numbers in the Bible, and found surprising agreement on what each number represents. Fourteen is a doubly strong (7) spiritual perfection and completeness, and three has to do with viewing things in their entirety, complete and solid. Can you then interpret that genealogical listing as being spiritually stronger, more complete and whole than anything Caesar could post?
There are a lot of fives in Matthew. He mentions Jesus as Messiah five times. There are five women named in the genealogy, the fifth being Mary. There are five dreams and five prophetic fulfillments in chapters one and two. All of the restating and expansion of the Ten Commandments is found in the fifth chapter of Matthew. And just what does the number five represent? Grace, favor.
Matthew and Luke told their audiences exactly who Jesus was, in terms that they would understand and comprehend in ways that are lost on us. Both versions include people who send the unspoken message that God is intentional in acting, things will be accomplished in God's time, God uses everyone in accomplishing His purposes and invites everyone into relationship. Maybe I won't sleep through the next genealogy.
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