A little less golden
I am
a rainbow of emotions
from excruciating sadness pulling
on my chest
and tugging at my soul
to
tearful and transcending joy at
breaking free
from
past chains
and captive prisons
and
all the colors in between . . .
I am
flummoxed, discovering on my last day
a coffee cup planter
on the table
where we have group
next to where I always sit
camouflaged
in the open space by my internal world
I am
told
advised
consoled
encouraged
that other opportunities emerge
dressed in a different color
maybe lavender, possibly chartreuse, hopefully shamrock
but God forbid, gray
but . . .
although . . .
however, and in retrospect
they will be
a little less golden . . .
A Theology of Care
My theology of pastoral care focuses on transformation; that is, the change from a state of “brokenness” to a “healing” state of being. All humans from the day they are born are broken. Psychologist Abraham Maslow, for example, identifies physiological, psychological, and spiritual limitations humans need to address in order to survive. The ultimate human limitation is death. In the OT – because of humanity’s disobedience – God removes the choice of eternal life. According to Genesis 3:23-24, “So the Lord God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken. After he drove the man out, he placed on the east side of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life.” As such, God makes death the end of life.
For humanity, this awareness or “shadow” of death brings about suffering. The suffering of Jesus Christ – depicted in Matthew 27 – portrays the dehumanization of Jesus associated with the Roman soldiers and prominent Jewish religious figures dividing up his few possessions (35), insulting him (37-40), and / or physically abusing him (30). If the body of Christ represents humanity, then people suffer from not being fully human. The imagery associated with an extremely frightened and diminutive woman, praying, begging God for her life within the vast cavity of a hospital’s pre-op facility magnified her helplessness, compromising her ability to be fully human. Christ crying out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34; Matt 27:46; Psalm 22:1) vividly underscores this imagery.
As such, transformation seems to require suffering. When performing pastoral care, patients possessing physical problems with predictable positive outcomes not only experience little suffering, they seldom require pastoral care. The specter of their death remains dormant and out of their awareness. These patients barely see me, looking past me for the last doctor or procedure prior to their discharge. Conversely, suffering patients, consciously or unconsciously, seem to search for transformation, seeking a shift from being broken to becoming healed. This search emanates from the inherent presence of a divine spark — discussed throughout this blog — found in humans and in all of God’s creation.
Because suffering extends beyond the physiological, it connected patients to me both emotionally and intellectually. In Acts 2, the Holy Spirit creates this connection mysteriously by uniting the disciples with those who spoke in different languages and enabling them to prophesy. Six of my conversations with patients stood out, for reasons that often was mysterious, based on something in the conversations that “struck me as unusual.” After the first few conversations, I began noticing the diversity of metaphors popping up in the conversations that resonated with my own emotional and psychological issues. One particular woman patient, for example, connected with me emotionally regarding the suffocating limitations of playing the role of “performer” and the transformation from the victimization associated with such a role to the freedom associated with writing poetry. As such, the Holy Spirit’s influence seems dynamic, bringing hurting souls together yet simultaneously providing valuable instruction (see John 14:26; 1 Cor 2:10-11) for both patients and chaplains.
Yet, transformation also requires death in a different sense than previously discussed. Death of the saliency of restrictive and toxic roles is necessary for human beings to begin to heal. Problematic interactions between family members often create maladaptive family systems. The growing conflict and disassociation between my parents, for example, forced me to adopt unhealthy personas. As a child, I adopted the role of “comedian” to dissipate any lurking tension in our home. A more problematic persona, for me, became the role of “standard bearer” for the family. A growing anxiety attached itself to this role as both my parents declared their despair and disdain for each other. To keep the family together, I felt I had to achieve. These and other personas coalesced into my role as “performer.” Through interaction with patients, this role cast me as “victim,” passive and responsive to my parents’ expectations, ambitions, and goals for my life.
Resurrection represents the culmination of transformation, the creation of life anew. In contrast to the brokenness of humans discussed earlier, Jesus declares himself to be the resurrection and the life (John 11:25). Where God once guarded eternal life, God (incarnate, a transformation as well) now makes eternal life available for humanity. God transforms as humanity transforms, by mutually interacting with each other.
Yet, resurrection does not completely erase the lessons of suffering. Responding to Thomas (John 20:25-28), Jesus shows his wounds from his crucifixion to Thomas, and has him touch them. The wounds of suffering were real for both patients and me, informing us in the transformative process. In providing pastoral care, for example, it becomes necessary to be cognizant of patient issues that may obstruct “being present” with patients. For me, for example, elderly women presenting as “motherly” – both positive and negative presentations – potentially “press my emotional buttons,” in response to the suffering I experienced interacting with my mother. If I am unaware of these issues, I potentially compromise my pastoral care with these patients. Moreover, these issues never completely leave.
In conclusion, my theology of care accentuates the role of transformation in achieving a shift from “brokenness” to “healing.” This shift does not occur in isolation but requires reciprocal interactions. Jesus Christ’s suffering, death, and ultimate resurrection provides a metaphorical understanding for presenting my theology. People of different faiths (e.g., Islam), however, would experience difficulties with Jesus Christ as a metaphor. For other faiths, different metaphors for transformation exist. For Islam, such a metaphor would be the “Day of Resurrection.” Muslims believe that God preordains the Day of Resurrection albeit unknown to humanity. The Qur’an describes the suffering preceding and occurring during the Day of Resurrection and emphasizes bodily resurrection; the Qur’an proposes that the gathering of humankind follows resurrection, culminating in their judgment by God. For Islam, then, the transformation is collective not individual.
I am a loser…
I am a loser…
I got lost, trying to find him in this damn place…
I am a loser…
I lost my life a long time ago and now he is losing his…
I am a loser…
I lost his middle name; dammit, quit asking me questions…
I am a loser…
I lost my cool when he lost his clothes…
I am a loser…
He loses his heartbeat as my heart stops…
I lost my breath as he loses his…
I am a loser…
I search my bible for a meaning I know is there, but now is lost…
I am a loser…
I am frantic and he is lost…
gone…
forever…
I am a loser…
I have lost…
my love…
my friend…
and my life continues…
I am a loser…
Personal Lamentation: Who is transforming?
I am tired of you
I grow weary of our conversations
that cycle endlessly
in their toxic accusations and in the endless necessity
of weeding out your insanity
I become fatigued at the thought
of still having to deal with you;
your need for demonstration, proclamation, and examination
You have hurt me
and yet…
and yet…
and yet…
You clutch at me, still questioning,
still doubting,
still manipulating
and yet…
and yet…
and yet…
I still see you;
I see glimpses, mere specks of light
I see you reading to me as a child
I see you endlessly rubbing my foot after knee surgery when my leg throbbed in pain
I see you inquiring about my life as it has journeyed away from yours…
I see you now, in your last days, transforming, forging your own path instead of clinging to mine…
Examples of Evil: Forseen and Unforseen
Unlike sin, evil is alarming. It is alarming because it emerges unexpectedly in unanticipated ways and from unforeseen people. The post I present is a paper representing a potential part of a sermon. The practitioners of evil range from those guilty of genocide in Rwanda and the world community allowing the genocide to happen, to Pontius Pilate allowing the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, to Martin Luther, the primary initiator of the Protestant Reformation of the 16th century. Evidently, evil knows no boundaries.
—
In 1994, the world community experienced the horrors associated with genocide. Over a span of one hundred days, the Hutus slaughtered a minimum of 500,000 Tutsis and Hutu political moderates, sympathizers, and suspects in Rwanda, with estimates as high as one million; if the later estimate is correct, the Hutus murdered 20% of the total Rwandan population.[1] In response to this horror, the developed nations of the world – including the United States – sat by in silence. Why this response? General Romeo Dallaire was commander of the United Nations forces sent to Rwanda in 1993 to keep the peace with few troops and minimal resources.[2] His insights concerning the genocide are revealing. The United Nations refused to intervene because of fear of casualties to their own troops. In a Machiavellian fashion, the powerful nations viewed Rwanda – having “no strategic value or resources”[3] – as politically and economically not worth saving. As Christians, how did we allow this tragedy to occur?
The answer seems to originate in defining our “neighbors.” In response to a lawyer, Jesus tells the parable of the “Good Samaritan” (Luke 10:29-37).[4] In this parable, a man traveling, from Jerusalem to Jericho, falls victim to bandits, beaten, and left for dead. The religiously connected people pass the beaten man; that is, the priest responsible for administering God’s laws as well as the Levite responsible for upholding God’s laws both pass by the beaten man. However, the Samaritan – a man belonging to a people rejected by the Judeans[5] — feels compassion for the man, tends to his wounds, puts him up in an inn, and pays the innkeeper to look after the man using his own money. The answer to the lawyer’s question becomes obvious; the “real” neighbor to the beaten and penniless man was the man that helped him. Altruistic action not religious doctrine or practices were important to Jesus.
Unfortunately, Christians throughout history failed to take Jesus’ parable to heart. One of the most “famous” Christians failing to be the Good Samaritan was Martin Luther, arguably the igniter of the Great Reformation of the sixteenth century. In 1524, a rebellion involving German peasants erupted. The rebellion originated out of dire economic circumstances. Because of a declining population due to disease and hunger, landlords extorted even higher taxes – among other harsh measures – on peasants to make up for lost revenue.[6] As such, a poor population became poorer and more desperate. The peasants tied religion to their economic demands in creating their “Twelve Articles; that is, the peasants based their claims on scripture.”[7] Justo Gonzalez, a Christian historian, allows that Luther initially attempted to broker peace with the German princes. “When he first read the Twelve Articles, he addressed the German princes, telling them that was demanded in them was just, for the peasants were sorely oppressed.”[8] Yet, when the peasants rebel, Luther’s sympathy turns to rage. James Kittelson, a Reformation scholar, notes that in Luther’s writing of Against the Murderous and Thieving Hordes of Peasants, Luther urges the German princes to kill the peasants while informing them of the evils of rebellion.[9] Luther’s refusal to stand with the peasants – especially given his influence with the German princes – costs thousands of peasants their lives. According to Gonzalez, “more than 100,000 peasants were killed.”[10] How do we as Christians break our recycling of indifference and scorn concerning politically and economically oppressed populations so as to prevent future tragedy?
Christians expand their boundaries, including those who differ from them both politically and religiously. Jesus, himself, was victim of a political figure making a “safe” choice. Pontius Pilate, the Prefect of Judaea,[11] had no desire to convict Jesus, especially given the lack of evidence against him (Luke 23:14-23; John 18:38). Yet, Pilate refused to take a stand against injustice; the “practicalities” associated with a potential riot influenced his actions (Mark 15:15; Matt 27:24). Jesus Christ, then, is the example. Matthew 25:31-46 chronicles Jesus’ role in the final judgment. In welcoming those on his right hand, Jesus proclaimed, “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you made me welcome, lacking clothes and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to see me” (Matt 25:35-37). Christians must see Jesus in people of divergent faiths, creeds, colors, incomes, and sexual orientations. Actions for the benefit of others outweighs any value assessed using political and social measures.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Africa Program. “The International Response to the Rwandan Genocide: A Failure of Humanity.” Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars. Online: http://www.wilsoncenter.org/index.cfm?event_id=68205&fuseaction=topics.event_summary&topic_id=1417 (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
Frontline. “Interview: General Romeo Dallaire.” Frontline: Ghosts of Rwanda. Online: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/ghosts/interviews/dallaire.html (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
Gonzalez, Justo L. The Story of Christianity, Volume 2: The Reformation to the Present Day. New York: HarperCollins, 1985.
Kittelson, James M. Luther the Reformer: The Story of the Man and His Career. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003.
Wikipedia. “Pontius Pilate.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pontius_Pilate (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
Wikipedia. “Rwandan Genocide.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rwandan_Genocide (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
Wikipedia. “Samaritan.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samaritan#Rejection_by_Judeans (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
[1] Wikipedia, “Rwandan Genocide,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rwandan_Genocide (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
[2] Frontline, “Interview: General Romeo Dallaire,” Frontline: Ghosts of Rwanda, online: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/ghosts/interviews/dallaire.html (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
[3] Africa Program, “The International Response to the Rwandan Genocide: A Failure of Humanity,” Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, online: http://www.wilsoncenter.org/index.cfm?event_id=68205&fuseaction=topics.event_summary&topic_id=1417 (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
[4] All scripture citations are from The New Jerusalem Bible unless otherwise noted.
[5] Wikipedia, “Samaritan,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samaritan#Rejection_by_Judeans (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
[6] James M. Kittelson, Luther the Reformer: The Story of the Man and His Career (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 190.
[7] Justo L. Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity, Volume 2: The Reformation to the Present Day (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1985), 41.
[8] Ibid., 41.
[9] Kittelson, 191.
[10] Gonzalez, 42.
[11] Wikipedia, “Pontius Pilate,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pontius_Pilate (accessed 19 Apr 2009).
Sin Versus Evil
Sin and evil arguably remain the most complex aspects of theology to flesh out. In my opinion, clergy use the two interchangeably, which I believe is a mistake. In a theology of the divine spark, I attempt to differentiate sin from evil. This differentiation results from a basic premise: all people are sinful whereas a subset designate as “evil.” Sinfulness equivocates to the human condition and all its inherent physiological and psychological survival needs. When these needs are not met, human beings suffer the culmination of their limitations or sinfulness; they die. In a previous posting, I argue that Jesus Christ inherited this sinfulness because he was a human being. The ultimate grace of God and gift of Jesus Christ was the resurrection, a transcending of the ultimate human sin — death — and realization and transformation of life. Conversely, Evil is a turning away from God; a choice if you will. This view is consonant with Arminianism, in some respects. Human beings can reject God’s grace. Just watch and listen to Bill Maher on HBO. Salvation also can be lost; that is, human beings must pursue God as God pursues them. This reciprocity, in my opinion, is required to establish a requisite relationship with God. For example, in Matthew 7, Jesus says:
21“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. 22Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ 23Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers (Matthew 7:21-23)!”
In previous postings, I write a polemic concerning the dangers of the “saved” litmus test. Believing to be “saved” equivocates to being part of an “elect,” those individuals whose salvation is guaranteed. Why is this relevant? More “evil” has been done by those who consider themselves to be “elect.” Currently, those elect promoting legal oppression and/or physical violence against Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) individuals advocate bigotry. Is bigotry God’s will? No. Other examples include selective ignorance of issues adversely affecting humankind. The American public’s indifference to the situation in Rwanda, arguably, enables the effective genocide of a major proportion of its people.
Sin
In previous postings, I conceptualize “sin” as limitation; that is, human qualities that prevent us from being God or even “god-like.” What are these qualities? Studying Maslow’s “Hierarchy of Needs” sheds light on this issue. Viewing the image below reveals that human beings require sets of needs for physiological and psychological survival, ultimately arriving at “self actualization.” Unfortunately, few individuals ever attain a self-actualized state, except in brief moments.
The conceptualization of “sin” as “limitation” resolves a few difficult theological issues. There is no hierarchy of sin. All human beings inherently possess these limitations, all progress through these stages. Moreover, it views sin contextually. Much — if not most — human behavior results from a given level of needs not being met. Similarly, Lawrence Kohlberg posited stages of moral development based on person’s level of cognitive development, borrowing — to some degree — from Jean Piaget. To illustrate this development, Kohlberg posed the “Heinz Dilemma.” The higher the level of cognitive development, the more sophisticated the resolutions generated. Both of these conceptualizations — applied to the question of sin — imply that it is a limitation, both physiologically and psychologically. In context, sin becomes behavior exercised on the basis of a relative lack of physiological or cognitive resources. As such, sin requires a human context to render it as a meaningful theological concept.
Evil
Evil, also, must be considered in context. For me, evil represents a purposeful, turning away from God. The phrase “turning away” emphasizes “choice”; that is, I believe that evil emanates from a human choice to turn away from God. Evil, as such, is the responsibility of humans. It is one result of God’s gift of “choice” to human beings. The problem becomes, “what is turning away?” Purposeful implies a state of knowledge, acknowledging this state, then rejecting it, knowing the consequences of such rejection. Identifying the Adolf Hitler’s of the world is easy. The uncovering of the wolves in sheep’s clothing is difficult. The people who blithely ignore genocide, the companies who promote themselves as stores for working people while economically oppressing their employees, and the insurance companies refusing to cover individuals based on their sexual orientation leaving them with little or no “safety net” are some concrete examples of these wolves. We should all be alarmed. For the essence or potential for evil is within each of us. Evil, unlike sin that is a physiological and psychological given, resembles a bell curve with rarities of no evil to much evil representing the tails and most people expressing or being guilty of some evil. This is why pursuing God is a necessity; that is, we need to pursue God, constantly. As Matthew 7:21-23 notes, for Jesus to know us, God’s will must be done. Of course, this is not easy. What is God’s will? That is exactly why pursuing God, contemplating God, meditating about God, through understanding ourselves and others is requisite. It is a journey not a light switch. How does a pursuit of God initiate?
Currently, I am reading Barbara Bradley Hagerty’s, Fingerprints of God to examine the possibilities she describes. Some of the book’s content seems to suggest certain people receive certain experiences. Yet, it seems to be more related to being able to see, a view I espoused in an earlier posting. What is fascinating about this book is that it proposes transformation; a reciprocal event that changes a person on a “cellular” level. Moreover, this transformation is not easy, causing the loss of old jobs, relationships, etc., in pursuit of God. I believe what is essentially lost is the veneer of meaninglessness in lieu of the meaningfulness of God. We shall see.
Delineating “sin” from “evil”
My apologies for not posting for a few months. Seminary in addition to counseling classes keep me busy. However, the gap between posts allowed me to think about my views on sin and evil. For some time, I wrestled with popular notions of Satan and the housing of Satan — hell — and came to the conclusion that neither exist. I promise to develop my conclusion in later posts. Suffice it to say, my dismissal of these two concepts has much to do with my view of human beings as “accountable”; that is, having responsibility. Along with that responsibility comes the freedom to choose. As such, the “choice” involves “pursuing” God versus “not pursuing” God. The choice of pursuit explains Jesus noting that while some obey the law (e.g., Torah), Jesus claims “not to know them” (Luke 13:22-27). Past posts cover the concept of “pursuing” God and its necessity. They will be revisited in later posts.
A necessary starting point, however, before discussing the plausibility of Satan and the existence of Hell is the distinction between sin and evil. An obvious assumption is that evil is more problematic than sin. I posit in earlier posts that everyone is inherently sinful, viewing “sin” as limitation rather than transgression. The obvious problem with sin as transgression is the untenability of a “hierarchy of sin.” Google “hierarchy of sin” and you find examples of bloggers wrestling with this issue. A more plausible conceptualization is that of sin as “limitation.” Humans inherently are limited, not equal to God. Humans require food, water, oxygen, sex, safety, stimulating environments — the list is endless — to survive and thrive. We can debate the list; however, what is not debatable is the fact that human beings require elements that — if not found — they die physically or existentially (e.g., removal of meaning; see Revolutionary Road for a movie example). Because of these needs, humans inherently are sinful. The logic is thus: the transgressions identified as “sinful” actually originate from human limitation. If I thirst as a human being long enough, I will be compromised morally to survive. Conversely, Jesus in John 19:28 — “I thirst” — acknowledging his human limitation, does not succumb to it by using his divine power. Maslow captures this concept in his hierarchy of needs, noting how basic human needs for survival outweigh any higher intellectual, social, or ethical needs.
Evil demarcates from sin in terms of prevalence as well as magnitude. Not everyone or everything is evil. Unlike traditional gnostics, I believe that God’s creation is amazing and wonderful (vs. Mitigated Gnosticism). Eschewing objects or material as evil is a start. Put simply, people with piercings, tattoos, scanty clothing, certain food tastes, etc., are not evil. This sounds mundane but groups exist that categorize evil, using the simplest terms and the most convenient of definitions. That is, such groups use terms and definitions to categorize people, marginalizing them in the process. The categories point more to the “sin” or limitation inherent in the “Vice Principal Vernons” of the world than the people being categorized. Remember, the need to categorize originates from a human survival mechanism; as such, it is a sin inherent in our very being. Using the sin as limitation argument generalizes nicely to human thoughts and actions as well.
Coming Next —> What is Evil?
While you are waiting, check out some tunes from Stereogum.com
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The Journey to God: The Story of Augustine
The other sermonette written for Church History dealt with the arduous journey experienced by St. Augustine. St. Augustine did not merely succumb to a litmus test or checklist conversion to Christianity. Instead — like many Christians — explored various philosophies and theologies. As such, his pursuit of God enriches previous blogposts that discuss the pursuit of and journey to God.
–
Individual experiences associated with converting to Christianity comprise a vast mosaic, a paradigmatic shift of spirituality intertwined with evolving environmental circumstances. Logically, the paths to embracing Christianity arguably are diverse; like snowflakes, no conversion paths exactly match each other either in style or in duration. Throughout history, efforts at converting non-Christians focused on obtaining simple affirmations of faith. Such affirmations often focused on political agendas promoting unity. Arguably, the greatest emperor in the history of the Rome Empire, Constantine placed a high importance on the unity of the church that he “hoped would become the ‘cement of the Empire.’ Thus, the state soon began to use its power to force theological agreement on Christians.”[1] Constantine’s efforts at theologically unifying the church eventuated in his calling of the first ecumenical council at Nicea in 325 ce; at this council, bishops from the East and from the West refined Christian theology, removing “heretical” elements and forging a unifying statement – the Apostles’ Creed – regarding the relationship between God and Jesus Christ.[2] Today, such simple affirmations of faith based on a somewhat simplified and agreed upon theology of Christianity call into question not only the theology but the “converted” person as well. Individual understanding of Christianity may suffer also.
The embracing of Christianity constitutes a long tortuous path. Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Matt 16:24; Mark 8:34).[3] The simple declaration made by Jesus indicates a process (i.e., journey) versus a simple outcome (i.e., affirming faith). To follow Jesus, individuals first must renounce themselves, giving up possessions, wealth, power and any other compelling distractions. Secondly, individuals must prepare to suffer, made explicit by Jesus’ reference to the cross. Jesus uses the cross – a powerful metaphor for suffering during the Roman Empire – to make explicit the heavy costs associated with discipleship. Lastly, following Jesus requires active efforts not just passive affirmations of faith on the part of Christians.
One of the most influential theologians in the history of Christianity undertook a tortuous journey to his faith. Justo Gonzalez – a Christian Historian – chronicles Augustine’s theological and spiritual journey to Christianity.[4] His parents sent him to Carthage to study rhetoric in preparation for a future career in law or public service. Unfortunately, Augustine sought out “the many pleasures that the city offered. Soon he had a concubine who bore him a child.”[5] After reading Cicero, Augustine discovered the need to seek truth as well as style; he combined his study of rhetoric with that of philosophy.
Augustine did not immediately embrace Christianity. His study of rhetoric influenced his distaste for the crude writing and often violent content found in the stories of the Bible. Augustine’s search for truth started with a philosophy originated in Persia by Mani in the third century ce. Augustine found Manicheism initially compelling because “part of its propaganda consisted in ridiculing the teachings of Christianity, and particularly the Bible, whose materialism and primitive language it mocked.”[6] Manicheism also seemed to address Augustine’s questions concerning the origin of evil. All human beings contain two elements: light and darkness. Evil consisted of mingling the two elements whereas salvation required separating the two elements. Conversely, referencing Christianity to answer the issue of evil presented a dilemma. “If God was supreme and pure goodness, evil could not be a divine creation. And if, on the other hand, all things were created by the divine, God could not be as good and wise as . . . the church claimed.”[7] Although compelling, Augustine never fully converted to Manicheism; the Manichean teachers never completely resolved all of Augustine’s doubts about the religion.
After moving to Milan for a teaching position, Augustine continued his search regarding the question of evil embracing a philosophy called Neoplatonism. For Neoplatonists, evil, “though real, is not a ‘thing,’ but rather a direction away from the goodness of the One,”[8] the source of all being. Emanations or “realities” circled the ineffable One, whereby the goal for Neoplatonists was to inhabit an emanation close to the One. According to Gonzalez, “realities that are closer to the One are superior, and those that are more removed from it are inferior.”[9] As such, Neoplatonism allowed for both a divine source of creation as well as the existence of evil, effectively extinguishing Augustine’s doubts concerning the existence of both God and evil delineated in Christianity.
Influenced by his study of rhetoric, Augustine still had doubts about Christianity. “How can one claim that the Bible, with its crude language and its stories of violence and falsehood, is the Word of God?”[10] The answer to his question came in the form of Ambrose, the bishop of Milan. Augustine listened to Ambrose’s sermons and found that “Ambrose interpreted allegorically many of the passages that had created difficulties for Augustine.”[11] Allegorical interpretation fit Augustine’s standards of rhetoric. Specifically, allegorical interpretation is an “approach which assigns a higher-than-literal interpretation to the contents of a text.”[12] Intellectually, at least, Augustine’s journey to fully embracing Christianity ended.
Augustine’s journey was not complete, however. According to Gonzalez, “Augustine was convinced that, were he to become Christian, he must give up his career in rhetoric, as well as his ambitions and every physical pleasure. It was precisely this last requirement that seemed most difficult.”[13] Augustine’s struggle coincides with the parable of the sower in the book of Luke. In explaining the parable to his disciples, Jesus told of the seed – representing the word of God – that fell into the thorns, “this is people who have heard, but as they go on their way they are choked by the worries and riches and pleasures of life and never produce any crops” (Luke 8:14). Augustine finally relinquished his teaching post and his need for physical pleasures, planning to live a life of a monk in North Africa.
The long and torturous journey seems necessary for embracing Christianity. Following Jesus Christ is not merely an affirmation of his existence but a commitment of actively pursuing a new way of life. Too often, Christians “slot” their relationship with God into a roughly sixty minute experience, held once a week. The experience requires no social upheaval of their lifestyles; indeed, they freely engage in various forms of consumerism, ever accumulating and consuming. Although comprising less than 5% of the world’s population, Americans consume roughly one fourth of the world’s energy resources. Individually, Americans – on the average – consume six times more than the world average.[14] Even faced with such condemning evidence, we refuse to change, clinging – as did Augustine initially – to our lives of pleasure and comfort. Many Americans feel they deserve to consume more of the world’s resources, viewing themselves as better benefactors and contributors to the world than more developing countries.[15] Embracing a consumptive lifestyle dooms many Americans to being “choked off” from the word of God.
Accepting a uniform but expedient Christianity also prevents an understanding of the theology fueling it. Augustine learned much from his struggles, chronicling them in Confessions, “a spiritual biography, addressed in prayer to God, which tells how God led him to faith through a long and painful pilgrimage.”[16] Such a pilgrimage led Augustine to insights regarding Christian theology leading to formulations of “free will” and “just war” that permeate Christian theology to this day. Lacking in such struggles, Americans fail to understand the plight of their world neighbors. Instead, the ability to assimilate into Christianity coupled with fairly luxurious lifestyles – as compared to the developing world – chokes off American Christians from the word of God.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Energy Kid’s Page. “Energy Efficiency.” Energy Information Administration. Online: http://www.eia.doe.gov/kids/energyfacts/saving/efficiency/savingenergy.html. (accessed 18 Nov 2008).
Gonzalez, Justo L. The Story of Christianity, Volume I: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation. New York: HarperOne, 1984.
Planck, Bernie. “Americans Deserve to Consume More Resources.” Planck’s Constant. Online: http://plancksconstant.org/blog1/2008/05/americans_deserve_to_consume_more _resources.html. (accessed 18 Nov 2008).
[1] Justo L. Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity, Volume I: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation (New York: HarperOne, 1984), 158.
[2] Ibid., 162-66.
[3] All scripture citations are from The New Jerusalem Bible unless otherwise noted.
[4] Gonzalez, 208-212.
[5] Ibid., 208.
[6] Ibid., 210.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid., 211.
[9] Ibid., 210.
[10] Ibid., 211.
[11] Ibid.
[12] Wikipedia, “Allegorical Interpretation,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allegorical_interpretation (accessed 17 Nov 2008).
[13] Gonzalez, 211.
[14] Energy Kid’s Page, “Energy Efficiency,” Energy Information Administration, online: http://www.eia.doe.gov/kids/energyfacts/saving/efficiency/savingenergy.html (accessed 18 Nov 2008).
[15] Planck, Bernie, “Americans Deserve to Consume More Resources,” Planck’s Constant, online: http://plancksconstant.org/blog1/2008/05/americans_deserve_to_consume_more _resources.html (accessed 18 Nov 2008).
[16] Gonzalez, 215.
Social Reversal and St. Francis of Assisi
Every now and then assignments tackled in seminary contribute and strengthen the theology being fleshed out in this blog. The sermonette dealing with St. Francis of Assisi adds credence to my argument calling for the need for social reversal. As discussed throughout this blog, social reversal is requisite in beginning the pursuit of God.
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Christians often assume that mere faith in God ensures salvation, believing a simple verbal confession of faith allows sinful “non-Christians” to be “saved.” One outcome of this belief is that effective evangelism requires Christians to convert non-Christians by having them affirm their belief in God and that God’s son Jesus Christ died for their sins. Often missing in these affirmations is an understanding of what a belief in God entails. A populist belief in God implies a process of salvation that is simple and relatively free of sacrifice. Yet, this is but one path for Christians to travel; ironically, this “common path” likely is a spiritually perilous one. Jesus clarifies the pathway to the kingdom of heaven as follows. “Enter by the narrow gate, since the road that leads to destruction is wide and spacious, and many take it; but it is a narrow gate and a hard road that leads to life, and only a few find it” (Matt 7:13).[1] What constitutes the narrow gate and the hard path that Christians should pursue?
Paul in his letter to Timothy maintains that the “love of money is the root of all evils, and there are some who, pursuing it, have wandered away from the faith and so given their souls any number of fatal wounds” (1 Tim 6:10). A major step for Christians toward the narrow gate and the hard path would be to disavow a love of money. The story of an influential monastic leader illustrates this approach. Following the crusades, the people of the Middle Ages experienced a significant economic change from Feudalism – an economic system emphasizing wealth in terms of land ownership – to a monetary economy. According to Christian historian Justo Gonzalez, one unfortunate consequence of a monetary economy is that it promotes “a growing chasm between rich and poor.”[2] Responding to the needs of the poor during this economic transition were the mendicants – meaning “those who live by begging.”[3] The mendicants were new monastic orders that took shape during this historical period assisting the poor and the sick during the shifting of the population caused by the growth of cities in Western Europe.
From this transformative period emerged a man named Giovanni who embraced poverty. Reputedly, his zeal for poverty ignited when Giovanni chased down a beggar and emptied out his pockets, giving the beggar the contents after completing a business deal for his father.[4] This incident completely changed Giovanni’s life. “He . . . gave to the poor all he had. If his parents gave him more, he immediately gave it away. Dressed in rags, he spent his time praising the beauty of poverty to any who would listen, or rebuilding an abandoned chapel, or enjoying the beauty and harmony of nature.”[5] Giovanni’s embracement of poverty angered his father who sought the services of the bishop. The bishop subsequently ruled that Giovanni give up his inheritance and Giovanni’s life of poverty began.[6]
Giovanni, known by his friends in Assisi as Francesco because of his love for the songs of the French troubadours,[7] coupled his zeal for poverty with preaching after hearing a reading of NT scripture. According to Gonzalez, Francesco or “Francis” responded to Jesus’ charge to his disciples telling them to proclaim the kingdom of God and cure the sick.[8] In Matt 10:7-10, Jesus commanded his disciples to accomplish these tasks by taking no gold, silver or copper, not even a spare tunic, footwear or a staff. Arguably, Jesus believed that the accumulation of wealth obstructs spreading the word of God. Francis emulated Jesus by visiting cities, seeking crowds, preaching the kingdom of God and helping the sick and the poor in Assisi. After gaining followers, Francis of Assisi successfully ventured to Rome seeking authorization from Pope Innocent III to found a new monastic order – the Friars Minor.[9] Central to the Franciscan order was the eschewing of wealth, preaching the word of God in humility.
People seeking to follow Jesus Christ confront the opposing paths of pursuing wealth and pursuing the kingdom of God throughout their lives. Jesus understood this human dilemma when answering a rich man wondering what he must do to possess eternal life. Jesus first told him to keep the commandments: “You shall not kill. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not give false witness. Honor your mother and father. You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt 19:18-20). Interestingly, Jesus does not comment on the first commandment insisting on loving God only. Indeed, the true test for the rich man is to give up his love of wealth. The man insists he has kept all the commandments Jesus listed. Jesus then tells the rich man, “If you wish to be perfect, go and sell your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (Matt 19:21). The rich man faced with this choice, chooses his true love — wealth. Jesus teaches his disciples, “In truth I tell you, it is hard for someone rich to enter the kingdom of Heaven. Yes, I tell you again, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for someone rich to enter the kingdom of Heaven” (Matt 19:23-24). The message is clear. Comfort and wealth block and detour people from following the path of Jesus Christ, effectively blocking the pursuit of the kingdom of God.
In the United States, the income distribution skews towards the wealthy with the top 6% of the population earning roughly one-third of all income. Conversely, over 12% of citizens living in the United States live in poverty and almost 20% earn a family income of $19,000 or less.[10] The disparity of wealth in the United States punctuates the story of Francis of Assisi and the teachings of Jesus. Accumulation of wealth predominates, creating an American culture focused on consumerism; Americans prioritize accumulating wealth and possessions over helping and caring for the poor and needy. Grocery stores such as Publix offer its customers the ability to buy and donate bags of selected grocery items (e.g., fruit cocktail, hash) for distribution to the poor. Yet, many bags still remain and will remain, even after the holiday season. If each family purchased just one bag per month (one bag = $20 X twelve months = $240 per year), the poor in our neighborhoods might not experience hunger during or after the holidays.
Consumerism generalizes to Christian churches as well. American churches seem focused inward; their budgets oriented to creating bigger buildings or refurbishing older spaces to more ornate worship areas. A reversing or upheaval of Christian priorities seems evident. If all churches in the United States earmarked a small percentage of their budgets to feeding the poor, there would be no need for any governmental programs that typically are ineffectual in providing timely or lasting relief. The lifestyle of Francis of Assisi should inspire Christians to begin such a social reversal, to focus their spiritual lives as well as church goals to sacrificing individual and church desires to redistributing resources to fellow citizens – Christian and non-Christian – that are needy.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Gonzalez, Justo L. The Story of Christianity, Volume I: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation. New York: HarperOne, 1984.
Wikipedia. “Francis of Assisi.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_of_Assisi. (accessed 15 Nov 2008).
Wikipedia. “Household Income in the United States.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Household_income_in_the_United_States. (accessed 15 Nov 2008).
[1] All scripture citations are from The New Jerusalem Bible unless otherwise noted.
[2] Justo L. Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity, Volume I: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation (New York: HarperOne, 1984), 302.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Wikipedia, “Francis of Assisi,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_of_Assisi (accessed 15 Nov 2008).
[5] Gonzalez, 302.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid., 303.
[10] Wikipedia, “Household Income in the United States,” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, online: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Household_income_in_the_United_States (accessed 15 Nov 2008).
Questioning the Linearity of Time — Some Additional Thoughts
After talking to a friend about my views on the characteristics of time, I feel the need to add a some additional insights. Curiously, these insights occurred to me during a Church History class. Yet, they seem to add biblical credence to the idea of circular versus linear time. As noted before, I propose biblical scripture denotes time as circular based on verses found in Revelation (1:8; 22:6; 22:13). God is the “alpha” and “omega,” the beginning and the end of existance as symbolized by the first (alpha) and last (omega) letters of the Greek alphabet. If God is both beginning and end, then a linear view of time is fallacious; that is, viewing time as a line segment with God at the beginning point and God at the endpoint logically wrong. It implies two separate beings needed for two separate distinctions, a logical polytheism of sorts. Instead, connecting the two endpoints — beginning and ending of time — brings the points together into one divine being, God. Bringing the points together formulates a circle, hence time is circular not linear.
The passage of the seasons lends more credence to the circularity of time. The circle of God’s creation is born in the Spring, reaches full growth and potential in the Summer, declines in the Fall, and dies in the Winter. If viewing time using a linear model, then life as we know it ends in one set of four different phases. But the phases start again. After Winter with life seemingly ended, Spring comes again. The dead or hibernating creations of God come to life. The resurrection of Jesus Christ reinforces the model of circular time associated with God’s creation. Jesus seemingly dies but comes back to life. Using a linear model of time allows no hope for human beings, seemingly destined for the ultimate physical limitation of death. Fortunately, time is circular as human beings are “born again” after death.