I have heard people say "God had to use a two-by-four to get my attention." Of course, a two-by-four up aside the head is not God's standard methodology. God is not a violent God in spite of what is recorded in the Hebrew scriptures. The meaning of the statement is some disruptive experience (generally a traumatic, painful experience) caused the person to see things differently. It was as if they woke up to a new way of thinking.
Waking up to see things from a different perspective is a normal experience on the spiritual journey. Spiritual progress involves learning to think differently - from God's perspective rather than a human perspective, from a grace-based perspective rather than a merit-based perspective, from a faith perspective rather than a fear-governed perspective. (See "by the renewing of the mind," Romans 12:2; also Ephesians 4:22-24, Colossians 3:9-10.) The Greek word that is translated repent actually means "to think from a different perspective," literally, with a different mind. Waking up involves moving beyond the way I normally think. It involves understanding and embracing spiritual truth, taught by the Spirit. (See 1 Corinthians 2:11b-16.)
As I read the account of the Transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-8), I see Peter, James, and John having this kind of two-by-four experience, calling them to wake up ... to move beyond their self-focused way of thinking ... to see things from a spiritual perspective.
The Transfiguration experience is tied to what we call The Great Confession in which Peter acknowledges that Jesus was the Messiah (Matthew 16:13-17). Jesus affirmed Peter's understanding. The problem was Peter's understanding of what the Messiah was to be and do was not Jesus' understanding. Peter thought from a human perspective. He assumed Jesus would be a conquering hero who would defeat the enemies of Israel and establish Israel as the dominant nation of the world. (Of course, that meant Peter would receive a high ranking position in the new order.) Peter thought from the world's perspective regarding power: power used to dominate and control others for one's personal advantage. This assumption is reflected in the interchange between Jesus and Peter in Matthew 16:21-23. When Jesus began to explain that being the Messiah included suffering and death, Peter rebuked Jesus and attempted to correct him. Jesus then rebuked Peter, telling him he was thinking from a human perspective, not a spiritual perspective (see Matthew 16:23).
The Transfiguration experience called Peter beyond his way of thinking to embrace a different, spiritual way of thinking about the Messiah and power. In the Kingdom, power is used to serve others, even at great cost to self.
In the experience, Peter, James, and John saw Jesus transfigured from his normal human appearance to one filled with light and energy. It was as if the veil separating the spiritual realm and the physical realm was pulled back so they could see the fuller reality. Moses and Elijah, representing the law and the prophets, were a part of the experience. Their presence indicated the new way of thinking they were being taught was in harmony with the teachings of scripture. Then a light and energy-filled cloud representing the presence of God engulfed them. The metaphor is clear: they were in the presence of God. And a voice - the voice of God - spoke to them: "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well-pleased" (Matthew 17:5). The voice was the same voice Jesus heard at his baptism. The voice said to them the same thing that was said to Jesus at his baptism. The statement affirmed (1) Jesus was the Messiah, just as they had perceived: "This is my Son, the Beloved" from Psalm 2, the coronation psalm. It also communicated (2) a different understanding of the Messiah's role. "With whom I am well-pleased" was from the Servant Songs of Isaiah. The Messiah was the Suffering Servant, not a conquering hero-king like David. And then came the two-by-four: "Listen to him!" God called Peter, James, and John to be willing to hear a different way of thinking, to accept a new understanding of the Messiah's role. God called them to allow Jesus to teach them. God called them to be willing to learn. God called them to move beyond their old way of thinking to embrace a new way of thinking, taught by Jesus. Listen to him!!!
At the heart of the spiritual journey is learning to think and live from a different perspective. It involves recognizing and moving beyond our old way of thinking. It involves learning the think from a spiritual (Kingdom) perspective. It involves learning, embracing, and living the ways of God Jesus taught.
Thus, an essential attitude for the journey is one of being teachable - the willingness to learn - the willingness to think and explore a different way of understanding life. Apart from being teachable, some kind of two-by-four will be needed to get our attention.
Could this teachable attitude be the true attitude of Lent?
Sunday, February 23, 2020
Tuesday, February 18, 2020
Inside Out
The spiritual journey is an inside out journey. What is on the inside (the interior dimension) determines what is on the outside (relationships and behavior).
This truth is central in Jesus' teachings. Jesus challenged his religious culture's focus on the exterior, i.e., right behavior. He rejected their behavior-based distinctions between clean-unclean. Instead, he focused on the interior dimension of life, what he called the heart. "It is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come ... (they) come from within" Mark 7:21, 23. He taught us to be aware of and to deal with this interior realm. "Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor's eye," Matthew 7:3, 5. When we are blind to what is in our hearts, we are critical and judgmental of others, Matthew 7:1. Facing and dealing with our own issues frees us to be compassionate with others. Inside out: what is in our heart governs how we view and treat others.
Following Jesus, walking the spiritual journey leads us to growing awareness of the inner realms of our life. We learn to recognize our attitudes, our emotional reactions to others and to life's events, the spirit out of which we live, our moods, our needs and desires, our longings and fantasies. This awareness positions us to deal honestly with what is in our heart. It becomes the invitation to open ourselves to the Spirit's transforming work. Self-understanding and self-awareness lie at the core of the spiritual journey. They are the path that leads to spiritual growth.
This kind of self-awareness has to be cultivated. The demands and responsibilities of family and career easily distract us. We get caught up in providing for material needs, dealing with schedules, pursuing career advancement, accumulating wealth, coping with all that life throws at us, and just surviving. Any and all of these realities invite us to cultivate self-awareness, but we are generally too busy (or exhausted) to do the self-reflection that is needed. Instead, we cope by seeking comfort, escape, control.
When we neglect the interior focus of the spiritual journey, we generally substitute a different focus in our religious life. We focus on what to believe (right and wrong) and on what to do or not do (behavior, morals). We focus on beliefs and behavior because they can be measured and evaluated. We use them to reassure ourselves that we are "right" and "good." We buy into the faulty thinking that Jesus challenged: a focus on externals. A focus on externals (right beliefs, behavior, ritual) emphasizes obedience. It produces conformity. But the focus on externals can only produce surface appearances or pretense. It cannot produce the kind of spiritual growth that leads to the transformation of the heart.
It strikes me how little the interior journey is a part of popular religious life. Yet, the spiritual journey is an inside out journey. Its focus is on what's on the inside ... in the heart. The spiritual journey is about the transformation of the heart and mind through the work of the Spirit in our lives.
May it be so for us!
This truth is central in Jesus' teachings. Jesus challenged his religious culture's focus on the exterior, i.e., right behavior. He rejected their behavior-based distinctions between clean-unclean. Instead, he focused on the interior dimension of life, what he called the heart. "It is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come ... (they) come from within" Mark 7:21, 23. He taught us to be aware of and to deal with this interior realm. "Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor's eye," Matthew 7:3, 5. When we are blind to what is in our hearts, we are critical and judgmental of others, Matthew 7:1. Facing and dealing with our own issues frees us to be compassionate with others. Inside out: what is in our heart governs how we view and treat others.
Following Jesus, walking the spiritual journey leads us to growing awareness of the inner realms of our life. We learn to recognize our attitudes, our emotional reactions to others and to life's events, the spirit out of which we live, our moods, our needs and desires, our longings and fantasies. This awareness positions us to deal honestly with what is in our heart. It becomes the invitation to open ourselves to the Spirit's transforming work. Self-understanding and self-awareness lie at the core of the spiritual journey. They are the path that leads to spiritual growth.
This kind of self-awareness has to be cultivated. The demands and responsibilities of family and career easily distract us. We get caught up in providing for material needs, dealing with schedules, pursuing career advancement, accumulating wealth, coping with all that life throws at us, and just surviving. Any and all of these realities invite us to cultivate self-awareness, but we are generally too busy (or exhausted) to do the self-reflection that is needed. Instead, we cope by seeking comfort, escape, control.
When we neglect the interior focus of the spiritual journey, we generally substitute a different focus in our religious life. We focus on what to believe (right and wrong) and on what to do or not do (behavior, morals). We focus on beliefs and behavior because they can be measured and evaluated. We use them to reassure ourselves that we are "right" and "good." We buy into the faulty thinking that Jesus challenged: a focus on externals. A focus on externals (right beliefs, behavior, ritual) emphasizes obedience. It produces conformity. But the focus on externals can only produce surface appearances or pretense. It cannot produce the kind of spiritual growth that leads to the transformation of the heart.
It strikes me how little the interior journey is a part of popular religious life. Yet, the spiritual journey is an inside out journey. Its focus is on what's on the inside ... in the heart. The spiritual journey is about the transformation of the heart and mind through the work of the Spirit in our lives.
May it be so for us!
Sunday, February 9, 2020
Seeing My Enemy as My Brother
When I look in the face of my enemy
I see my brother.
These words struck me as we sang them in worship today. They stirred my thinking.
What makes someone an enemy? And how do I see "my enemy" as my brother?
An enemy is someone we view through the lens of fear - someone we see as a threat. An enemy is someone who has hurt us and has the power to hurt us again, maybe even destroy us, OR someone we think will hurt us or destroy us. We view them as a danger to us, to our position, to our status or standing, to our way of life, to me & mine. We view them as the means by which we will experience loss.
An enemy is someone we relate to out of fear. Fear shapes how we think about them and talk about them. We are critical of them. We not only criticize what they do, we criticize who they are. We think of them as wrong, flawed, no good. We depersonalize them, taking away their humanness. We see them and what they do as evil. Thus, we are justified in withholding our compassion or care or concern or any attempt to understand them.
An enemy is someone whose power intimidates us, stirring feelings of being powerless and out of control. So we keep them at a distance. We have nothing to do with them. We build walls to protect ourselves against them.
So what makes someone an enemy? Is it who they are and what they do? Is it how they use their power against us? Or is it the fear that shapes how we view them and relate to them and exclude them?
What makes someone my enemy? It seems to me that what makes someone my enemy is the fear-based way I view them. I make them my enemy by how I think about them. OUCH!
If my thinking is correct, then I have an answer to my second question: how do I see "my enemy" as my brother? The answer is in changing the way I see "the other" - changing my perception of them. Rather than seeing them through the lens of fear, I/we view them through the lens of compassion. Compassion: to feel with.
To see "the other" with compassion is to see beyond the surface, beyond the behavior, beyond what they do or how they treat us. To see with compassion is to see what motivates their behavior: their fear, their pain, their struggle, their woundedness. It is to see them out of who you know yourself to be: an imperfect, struggling human being who wants what every person wants and needs what every person needs. It is to see them as yourself.
To say the same thing in a different way: to see "the other" with compassion is to move beyond reacting to what they say or do. It is to respond out of who we are as a beloved child of God. (A reaction is unconscious, automatic, unthinking. A response involves a conscious choice.) We live out of who we are, not in reaction to who the other is or to what the other does. As long as we react out of fear of "the other," we give the other power over us, leading us to use our power against them. To live out of who we are as God's beloved child is to use our power to manage ourselves and our fear which frees us to view and relate to "the other" differently, maybe even as a brother.
Viewing the other with compassion, managing myself and my fear, responding out of who I am as a follower of Jesus rather than reacting to what the other says or does - each of these three choices requires emotional-relational-spiritual maturity. In other words, to see "the other" as my brother is only possible through the transforming work of God in my life. I/we cannot do it in our own strength. Only the Spirit can change what is in our hearts. Only the Spirit can move us beyond the paralyzing power of fear. Only the Spirit can lead us beyond being critical to being compassionate. Only the Spirit can empower us to love as Jesus loved.
We live in a time of extreme polarization, in our nation and in The UMC. That polarization indicates we a living out of our fear, viewing the other as an enemy, reacting to what the other says or does. This time of high anxiety calls for emotional-relational-spiritual maturity. It calls for a Spirit-empowered response to the other. It calls us to see our so-called enemy as our brother.
Merciful God, may it be ... in me ... in us ... in your people! By your grace, may it be!
I see my brother.
These words struck me as we sang them in worship today. They stirred my thinking.
What makes someone an enemy? And how do I see "my enemy" as my brother?
An enemy is someone we view through the lens of fear - someone we see as a threat. An enemy is someone who has hurt us and has the power to hurt us again, maybe even destroy us, OR someone we think will hurt us or destroy us. We view them as a danger to us, to our position, to our status or standing, to our way of life, to me & mine. We view them as the means by which we will experience loss.
An enemy is someone we relate to out of fear. Fear shapes how we think about them and talk about them. We are critical of them. We not only criticize what they do, we criticize who they are. We think of them as wrong, flawed, no good. We depersonalize them, taking away their humanness. We see them and what they do as evil. Thus, we are justified in withholding our compassion or care or concern or any attempt to understand them.
An enemy is someone whose power intimidates us, stirring feelings of being powerless and out of control. So we keep them at a distance. We have nothing to do with them. We build walls to protect ourselves against them.
So what makes someone an enemy? Is it who they are and what they do? Is it how they use their power against us? Or is it the fear that shapes how we view them and relate to them and exclude them?
What makes someone my enemy? It seems to me that what makes someone my enemy is the fear-based way I view them. I make them my enemy by how I think about them. OUCH!
If my thinking is correct, then I have an answer to my second question: how do I see "my enemy" as my brother? The answer is in changing the way I see "the other" - changing my perception of them. Rather than seeing them through the lens of fear, I/we view them through the lens of compassion. Compassion: to feel with.
To see "the other" with compassion is to see beyond the surface, beyond the behavior, beyond what they do or how they treat us. To see with compassion is to see what motivates their behavior: their fear, their pain, their struggle, their woundedness. It is to see them out of who you know yourself to be: an imperfect, struggling human being who wants what every person wants and needs what every person needs. It is to see them as yourself.
To say the same thing in a different way: to see "the other" with compassion is to move beyond reacting to what they say or do. It is to respond out of who we are as a beloved child of God. (A reaction is unconscious, automatic, unthinking. A response involves a conscious choice.) We live out of who we are, not in reaction to who the other is or to what the other does. As long as we react out of fear of "the other," we give the other power over us, leading us to use our power against them. To live out of who we are as God's beloved child is to use our power to manage ourselves and our fear which frees us to view and relate to "the other" differently, maybe even as a brother.
Viewing the other with compassion, managing myself and my fear, responding out of who I am as a follower of Jesus rather than reacting to what the other says or does - each of these three choices requires emotional-relational-spiritual maturity. In other words, to see "the other" as my brother is only possible through the transforming work of God in my life. I/we cannot do it in our own strength. Only the Spirit can change what is in our hearts. Only the Spirit can move us beyond the paralyzing power of fear. Only the Spirit can lead us beyond being critical to being compassionate. Only the Spirit can empower us to love as Jesus loved.
We live in a time of extreme polarization, in our nation and in The UMC. That polarization indicates we a living out of our fear, viewing the other as an enemy, reacting to what the other says or does. This time of high anxiety calls for emotional-relational-spiritual maturity. It calls for a Spirit-empowered response to the other. It calls us to see our so-called enemy as our brother.
Merciful God, may it be ... in me ... in us ... in your people! By your grace, may it be!
Speaking a Different Language
Most of us have experienced the challenge of attempting to communicate with someone who speaks a different language. Without a common language, communication is limited, at best. More often than not, communication does not happen.
I resonate with this metaphor of speaking with a different language. In different Christian settings, I often sensed I was speaking a different language from others. You would think that, as all of us were self-identifying as Christian, we would speak a common language. But such was not the case. It was as though we were each coming from a different perspective, thinking from different paradigms, and pursuing different agendas. Those differences made it difficult to understand one another.
This struggle to communicate most often came from people who thought from what my professor called man-centered Christianity. In this view of the Christian life, we are the central focus. Everything is about us. It begins with our sin. Because we had sinned, God had to do something to save us. Jesus' death on the cross was about paying off our debt so God would forgive us. The goal was to save us so we could go to heaven. Being a Christian meant being a member of a church, believing certain facts, and living a moral life. It meant measuring up to a rigid standard of expected beliefs and behavior. This kind of Christianity relies on self-effort. Guilt and the fear of judgment are common motivators.
Man-centered Christianity is a what's-in-it-for-me version of Christianity. It is the version of Christianity proclaimed by self-identified evangelicals. As a result, it is the common understanding in Western Christianity.
In my mind, this man-centered version of Christianity misses the heart of what it means to be a follower of Jesus. (See, there is an example of speaking a different language. Most people talk about being a Christian or a church member. I talk about being a follower of Jesus. In my mind, being a Christian or church member does not automatically translate into being a follower of Jesus. I've encountered too many people who identify themselves as a Christian or a church member whose lives reflect the culture in which they live rather than the teachings of Jesus. But I digress.) One of the many fallacies of man-centered Christianity is it is about us. It begins with us and is focused on us. It revolves around meeting our need so we can enjoy our reward. In this version of Christianity, the life and ministry of Jesus are boiled down to his death on the cross for our sins. It celebrates Good Friday (Jesus' death) more than Easter (Jesus' resurrection). A central fallacy is that it reflects merit-based thinking that makes our relationship with God a transaction: "if we will ..., then God will ..."
In contrast to man-centered Christianity was what my professor called God-centered Christianity. This kind of Christianity begins with God and focuses on God. It is rooted in and grows out of the character of God. Jesus came to reveal God to us. His life, ministry, and teaching are as vital as his death and resurrection. His death was not to change God's mind about us so God would forgive us. Rather, his death was to change our mind about God. Jesus came to invite us to live in relationship with God as beloved children. The Spirit teaches us the ways of God that Jesus taught (the Kingdom) and helps us grow in our ability to live them. The goal is a transformed life that is conformed to the image of Jesus, not just going to heaven when we die. Being a follower of Jesus means living the ways of God, helping to bring the Kingdom on earth, here and now. This growing and living is the Spirit's work within us and through us, not the result of self-effort. In this view of Christianity, salvation is a gift of grace. It is God's work from beginning to end. "Deserving" is not even in its vocabulary. Love permeates this version of Christianity: love as the essence of God's nature, God's love for us expressed in grace and forgiveness, and our response of love to God. The Spirit helps us to fall in love with who God is and with the ways of God.
The contrast between these two versions is stark. One is about us (what's-in-it-for-me); the other is about God. One reflects the merit-based thinking inherent to our human nature; the other, the grace-based ways of God. In one, we create God in our image; in the other, God is recreating us in God's image. One is about beliefs and behavior; the other, about relationship and a transformed life.
When we listen to another, we listen from our understanding and perspective. We also listen for our understanding and perspective. We listen for that which we already think and believe. When we don't hear what we already think and believe, it is difficult to hear what the other is saying. It is as though the other is speaking a different language. What they are saying is foreign to us. It doesn't make any sense. It doesn't fit into our paradigm of thinking. It is difficult to understand.
When we have difficulty communicating (for example, the polarization in The UMC), the difficulty suggests we are each coming from a different perspective, thinking from different paradigms, and pursuing different agendas. We are speaking language that is foreign to the other.
So, what religious language do you speak?
I resonate with this metaphor of speaking with a different language. In different Christian settings, I often sensed I was speaking a different language from others. You would think that, as all of us were self-identifying as Christian, we would speak a common language. But such was not the case. It was as though we were each coming from a different perspective, thinking from different paradigms, and pursuing different agendas. Those differences made it difficult to understand one another.
This struggle to communicate most often came from people who thought from what my professor called man-centered Christianity. In this view of the Christian life, we are the central focus. Everything is about us. It begins with our sin. Because we had sinned, God had to do something to save us. Jesus' death on the cross was about paying off our debt so God would forgive us. The goal was to save us so we could go to heaven. Being a Christian meant being a member of a church, believing certain facts, and living a moral life. It meant measuring up to a rigid standard of expected beliefs and behavior. This kind of Christianity relies on self-effort. Guilt and the fear of judgment are common motivators.
Man-centered Christianity is a what's-in-it-for-me version of Christianity. It is the version of Christianity proclaimed by self-identified evangelicals. As a result, it is the common understanding in Western Christianity.
In my mind, this man-centered version of Christianity misses the heart of what it means to be a follower of Jesus. (See, there is an example of speaking a different language. Most people talk about being a Christian or a church member. I talk about being a follower of Jesus. In my mind, being a Christian or church member does not automatically translate into being a follower of Jesus. I've encountered too many people who identify themselves as a Christian or a church member whose lives reflect the culture in which they live rather than the teachings of Jesus. But I digress.) One of the many fallacies of man-centered Christianity is it is about us. It begins with us and is focused on us. It revolves around meeting our need so we can enjoy our reward. In this version of Christianity, the life and ministry of Jesus are boiled down to his death on the cross for our sins. It celebrates Good Friday (Jesus' death) more than Easter (Jesus' resurrection). A central fallacy is that it reflects merit-based thinking that makes our relationship with God a transaction: "if we will ..., then God will ..."
In contrast to man-centered Christianity was what my professor called God-centered Christianity. This kind of Christianity begins with God and focuses on God. It is rooted in and grows out of the character of God. Jesus came to reveal God to us. His life, ministry, and teaching are as vital as his death and resurrection. His death was not to change God's mind about us so God would forgive us. Rather, his death was to change our mind about God. Jesus came to invite us to live in relationship with God as beloved children. The Spirit teaches us the ways of God that Jesus taught (the Kingdom) and helps us grow in our ability to live them. The goal is a transformed life that is conformed to the image of Jesus, not just going to heaven when we die. Being a follower of Jesus means living the ways of God, helping to bring the Kingdom on earth, here and now. This growing and living is the Spirit's work within us and through us, not the result of self-effort. In this view of Christianity, salvation is a gift of grace. It is God's work from beginning to end. "Deserving" is not even in its vocabulary. Love permeates this version of Christianity: love as the essence of God's nature, God's love for us expressed in grace and forgiveness, and our response of love to God. The Spirit helps us to fall in love with who God is and with the ways of God.
The contrast between these two versions is stark. One is about us (what's-in-it-for-me); the other is about God. One reflects the merit-based thinking inherent to our human nature; the other, the grace-based ways of God. In one, we create God in our image; in the other, God is recreating us in God's image. One is about beliefs and behavior; the other, about relationship and a transformed life.
When we listen to another, we listen from our understanding and perspective. We also listen for our understanding and perspective. We listen for that which we already think and believe. When we don't hear what we already think and believe, it is difficult to hear what the other is saying. It is as though the other is speaking a different language. What they are saying is foreign to us. It doesn't make any sense. It doesn't fit into our paradigm of thinking. It is difficult to understand.
When we have difficulty communicating (for example, the polarization in The UMC), the difficulty suggests we are each coming from a different perspective, thinking from different paradigms, and pursuing different agendas. We are speaking language that is foreign to the other.
So, what religious language do you speak?
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