I have a history of being a spiritual seeker. I recently gave a talk at a women's retreat illustrating how God has worked in my life and brought me back to Himself ... twice! But already going into the retreat, I started to feel a weird sense of vague uncertainty. At the end of the retreat, and I even noted this on my feedback sheet, I felt like I was left unfulfilled. I am grateful for my current Catholic parish community for surrounding me with love and helping me come out of my postpartum depression and anxiety and back into an active belief in God's presence. I am grateful for our pastor, Fr. Eric, who recently was moved to another parish, for his example of holiness and clear leadership by example. I am grateful for the Celebrate Recovery ministry that had an active part in helping me, together with other pursuits the Lord prepared for me, to come out of my shell and claim my identity as a daughter of the King! I am grateful for the annual women's retreats that have given me that much needed time of being surrounded by constant reminders of His love and mercy.
So what's the problem? While I know it's a message that the good news has to start with, namely that we are loved by God, I am ready to move past that. Now what? I have wanted to get involved in the next stage of my faith journey for a time. This year, I started leading a small group extension of the CR ministry, but with one co-leader and currently only 2 other attendees (after over 3 months of advertising and meeting), and a cancelled Bible study I was supposed to lead, I'm thinking there's something else for me. Our parish is good about one consistent outreach ministry, feeding the homeless in our nearby city. But it isn't for everyone's talents, schedules, or current states in life.
Last year, I wanted to find out why we weren't recycling as a parish. My concerns were met with essential shrugged shoulders and a reference to the budget. Now that we have a new pastor, whose presence at Mass and elsewhere leaves something to be desired, I do hold out one bit of hope. Through my connections on staff, he will be approached in a few weeks with the idea of pursuing the Green Faith certification, which my last parish participated in. If this receives the green light, there will be something of value for me to work on at the parish that I feel will have wider implications than just our campus.
Also, I've approached a kindred spirit spiritual friend from our parish requesting mentorship. She is discerning if this is something the Holy Spirit wants her to agree to. If she does, I will also have something to cling to that will help me feel like I'm actually following Jesus, not just praising and worshiping Him and basking in His goodness to me, while ignoring the many tragedies that need attention from those who ought to be His hands and feet, as St. Therese would say.
I have been avoiding meeting again with my spiritual director lately, on one hand because her husband had a serious accident that brought back painful memories of my own dad's similar traumatic brain injury, and thus I didn't want to impose my time on her. But also, having found out on social media that our political leanings are opposed to each other, I've had to wonder if I can truly receive the kind of spiritual advice I'm looking for. After all, the truth is that following Jesus, actually following Him, IS a political action. We focus on different aspects of the gospel, however.
As these vague thoughts circled in my mind, I was at first quite confident that it was a matter of ironing out some details because, after all, I've left and returned twice. I don't expect anyone to take me seriously, myself included, if I just willy-nilly announce my subsequent departure. But thanks to the boundaries work I've been doing and realizing I need to be direct and honest with myself about my true feelings - about everything - I started to tell others and myself that the only reason I remain a faithful Catholic is the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.
I no longer have a devotion to Mary. We pray the Rosary as a family, but I don't have any sort of warm and fuzzy feelings about it. I just use it as a tool to remember the key aspects of the Gospel. The other major "Catholic thing" that differentiates my denomination from others is the Pope. And frankly, after the most recent clergy sex abuse scandal and seeing how Pope Francis - of whom I was a fan up until this point - handled the situation, I realized I was fooling myself thinking that there was something inherently holy in obeying spiritual authority blindly. I started to realize that those who would chastise me for "going against" church teaching were in effect equating the word of the Pope(s) with the Word of God. Jesus is supposed to be the singular mediator between us and Our Creator. Jesus is supposed to be the way, the truth, and the life. Jesus is supposed to be our Good Shephard. Not Jesus and the Pope.
Interestingly, once I admitted to myself that I simply do not recognize the popes' teachings as authoritative interpretations of Jesus's teachings, doubt begin to creep in regarding Jesus's Real Presence in the Eucharist. I asked myself, be for real, why do you love the Eucharist? And here was what I came up with.
As an introvert, I love the silence available at the Adoration Chapel, especially since no one seems to respect the sanctuary before or after Mass as a time of prayer. Instead, fellowship is encouraged and praised. But feeling good over being quiet enough with my thoughts to feel the presence of God is not proof of Jesus's Real Presence in the Eucharist. In fact, on at least one occasion, I recall hesitating about whether I wanted to spend my spiritual reflection time in the Adoration Chapel, or just outside the church, on a bench in a little garden. I recalled one of the best parts of retreats was the silence and being alone regardless of location. I tested this theory the other night when I went out on our deck under the full moon and spent close to an hour pacing in the dark, praying my heart out to God. I felt His presence. I gained insights. I started to grasp the Quaker concept of the "Christ within". I carry God's presence everywhere I go. Just like I said at the end of my retreat talk, "as soon as I stop talking, stop thinking, stop planning, stop organizing, and just be.... there He is."
Yes, it's nice to have a designated place to "visit Jesus", but am I seriously going to base my actions on what feels good? That's sort of the opposite of what Jesus taught. Same with receiving Communion. I genuflect before receiving. I teach my kids to pay close attention at the Transubstantiation. We say hello and goodbye to Jesus as we enter and leave the church. All to help them have a sense of the Real Presence of Jesus. My daughter just started her two year preparation to receive her First Holy Communion. This is a big deal, a coming of age into "big kidhood". And suddenly, I'm stopped in my tracks wondering if I'm actually teaching and practicing idolatry.
The truth is this. Either the Real Presence if true, in which case it's not idolatry and I should continue as before, seeking out social justice outlets to live out my faith. Or it's not true, and I don't really have a valid, biblical reason to keep building up the falsehood.
Moment of truth. When I think of being Catholic, I think of all the things the Catholic church teaches about Jesus (and Mary, and the saints, and etc.). I think of all the things the Catholic church teaches about what's the right thing to do, what's considered virtue and what's a vice. I see the Catholic church as the filter through which the Gospel gets passed down to me. And I'm seeing that there's a problem with this. Maybe this was appropriate during the Middle Ages, before most people were literate and before the printing press. In fact, I'd say the Catholic church really capitalized on the masses' ignorance and tied them to itself. While Jesus may have hoped to have His apostles and disciples pass on the Good News to those who would come after them (after all, most people in Jesus's time were likewise illiterate), what happens when these people, tasked with such a monumentally crucial role as passing on the facts of salvation through faith in Christ, twist the message to their own advantage? After all, the masses wouldn't be any wiser for it.
The easier thing would be to just stay Catholic, keep trying to find ways to follow Jesus from the base camp that is my current faith community. It's what I know, it's what I'm comfortable with. But there's also an element of the classic Catholic guilt - what if I'm wrong? I better stay put just in case the Catholic church is right. But wait a minute... what if it's the Catholic church that is wrong?
And so, I embark on a different spiritual journey, no longer to find a "good match" to what I want out of a spirituality, but rather, in search of ... truth. The true Jesus. The true Gospel. The true Way of Jesus that His early followers embraced.
The repercussions are not lost on me. This is a journey that I must take my husband and children on, if I truly want to say, in the words of Joshua 24:15, "As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord."
I must answer for myself, and then - if applicable - convince my husband, of one thing: Is it possible and wise to live out the Christian commission, the Christian lifestyle, from within the Catholic church? Most importantly, though, it isn't what I think or decide, but rather what I am led to. Is the Holy Spirit leading me to take a leap of faith and to look to the great unknown in order to follow my Savior to where He would have me? Am I willing to risk starting over at another faith community, possible over and over until I find the right one? Am I willing to cling entirely to Jesus and my personal discernment of His will for my life, trusting that He gave me my conscience not so that it would be "formed" (brainwashed?) by the filter of the Catholic church (or any other church for that matter), but so that I could commune directly with God?
It's funny. On one hand, I feel like the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, if it is true, is the most obvious way to be close to God, closer than anyone else can claim. On the other hand, if I really think about it, it's not at all the clearest path to Him. It relies entirely on the presence of the Catholic church. It depends on my access to the Catholic church. Reserving the tabernacle at the nearest Catholic church as THE place I can meet God is ignoring Him the rest of the time when I am not at church. It's putting on hold any big questions or requests until I can "be with Him" in Adoration. Yes, there is something psychologically true about the fact that when something is too common, it loses it's specialness. But there is also something to be said about what Albert Einstein once said: "You either believe that everything is a miracle, or that nothing is."
You know when I'm most in awe of God? When I ponder outer space. When I am outdoors and take in the vastness of nature. You know when I feel closest to Him, other than when outside? When I'm moved by beautiful music, or inspiring poetry, or breath-taking artwork. In other words, when I see/hear/feel God's creativity in action among His people.
I already know that I will never find a church that is a "perfect fit" for me. There are aspects of Catholic teaching and tradition that are not unbiblical and that resonate with me very much, but that are lacking in many other denominations. I am on uncharted territory here. I cannot merely "jump ship" and cling to someone else's interpretation and implementation of the Gospel. I need to depend entirely on the grace of God to move me.
I have often wondered what exactly was the good news of Jesus. I didn't get it. Clearly, something went wrong with all the Christians that have "taught" me in the past, since this should be abundantly clear. This is what I have finally come up with.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ
1. I am loved unconditionally by God, in Whose image I was made.
2. I am forgiven for my faults and shortcomings.
3. I am gifted with talents and opportunities unique to me.
4. I am called to some great mission for God.
5. The correct response to the above is gratitude and awe expressed in worship (both private and corporal).
6. I am expected to serve others as Jesus did.
7. I am expected to fellowship with other believers.
8. I am expected to study the Word of God.
9. I am expected to discern my calling through prayer and meditation.
10. I am expected to help others do likewise (aka. evangelize).
I don't know much, but I know this; if a person, resource, group, or church leaves me more confused than convicted about the message of Jesus, it cannot be the place for me.
Lord, please bless my efforts and forgive my inaccurate doubts. Amen.
Thursday, September 12, 2019
Thursday, September 5, 2019
Why I Didn't Convert to These Religions
Various faith traditions over the millenia have made efforts
to try to explain the unexplainable and make sense of the universe, to find our
purpose in life and look towards something beyond the material. Over the years, I’ve researched many of these
traditions, and having decided to stick with the religious tradition of my upbringing,
I note below why these other faith traditions didn’t convince me to convert (although
many came very close).
Hinduism is probably the farthest removed from a helpful
explanation of the human condition, for it merely recognizes the unfortunate inequality
between people and, rather than being motivated to reach beyond oneself to help
others, it simply places blame on them so as to relieve oneself of any
obligation to serve others. Hindus fear
becoming like the less fortunate in a future life, and this fear motivates them
to attempt to earn a better social standing.
Yet somehow this motivation does not actually do much to help those
already in lesser position.
Native American and many other indigenous spiritualities
often recognize the importance of creation and our responsibility towards it,
but they merge that which was created with Who created it. Polytheism is an attempt to reach for an
origin to what we see, yet somehow the idea of a single Source is lost on those
who believe in various gods and goddesses.
For a long time I have been fascinated with eastern philosophies
of Taoism and Buddhism. Taoism focuses
on the balance of everything in nature, which is absolutely true and beautiful
to reflect on. What it fails to recognize
a loving Creator God behind the very principles that the philosophy
observes. Buddhism recognizes the
inevitability of suffering in this world and acknowledges that it is desire
that is behind suffering, yet it fails to recognize that our desires are not in
themselves somehow wrong or misplaced, and therefore the premise of Buddhism’s
attempt to snuff out desire is ill-placed.
The desire is placed their by our Creator God, and it points to an
eternal existence that cannot be realized in our earthly realm. It is not bad to want good things for oneself. It only becomes bad when a person becomes a
slave to the desire and fails to look beyond it. Certain desires are certainly to be overcome
with grace and discipline, but other desires point us to the very real human
need to fill a void that can only be filled by God Himself.
Shintoism focuses on ancestors, believing that there is a
divination process that takes place upon death, and one’s ancestors become gods
who must then be worshipped. Of course,
one’s elders ought to be respected, and there’s truth in the belief of life
after death. But what’s missing is the
Creator God.
Islam and Judaism, in my view, are two sides of the same
coin. Both recognize a single Creator
God and the need to “do good”. It would
seem the reason Islam came into being is because of political reasons. People longed for the one true God but couldn’t
imagine “joining” the already existing Judaism (or Christianity, for that
matter). This is of course a simplistic
observation of a mere amateur bystander.
Christianity, at its core, incorporates all of these
aspects. It recognizes the problem of
inequality among people, the interconnectedness of everyone and creation, the
existence of opposites in all aspects of life, the value of those who have come
before us, and the recognition that we all it all to a single Creator God. What distinguishes Christianity from Judaism
and Islam is the level of control that we actually have over it all. Judaism and Islam indicate that enough “good
works” will satisfy God and grant us access to Him in the afterlife. Christianity realizes the futility of this approach
and instead notes that while we are indeed called to “good works”, these are
not what “get us into heaven”. Rather,
it is simply God’s grace, a free gift of self-giving love, that enables us to
be saved from our own downfall. He loved
us enough to take the blame for our sins.
No amount of penance would ever completely erase the wrongs of our
erroneous thoughts, words, deeds, and omissions over the course of a
lifetime. Yet though He’s a just God, more
than that He is a loving and therefore forgiving God.
The difference between a Christian’s good works and those of a
Muslim or Jew is that the Christian, if truly living according to the Gospel,
does the good deeds out of a sense of gratitude to God for having been saved, not
out of a sense of obligation or fear or in the hopes of manipulating God to
favor her or him in the afterlife. In other
words, the Christian is motivated by love.
Except that many in-name-only Christians misrepresent Jesus
and what He calls us to. They prioritize
the incidentals and minimize the crucial gospel-living behavior. They worship in churches on Sundays (or Saturdays),
they speak openly about their love of Jesus, they quickly point out the
wrongdoing of others and quote relevant Scriptures to back up their judgment
calls, they claim to love the unbelievers and want nothing more than to see
them in heaven… All while they ignore the marginalized of society, focus only
on the in-group (Americans are in no way immune to ethnocentricity, even if
there isn’t a single ethnicity that defines Americans), and selectively point
to Scriptures excusing them from help. Luke
11:42 speaks to this phenomenon: “But woe to you Pharisees! For you pay tithe of mint and rue and every
kind of garden herb, and yet disregard justice and the love of God; but these
are the things you should have done without neglecting the others.”
Yes, it is
important to keep the Sabbath holy, dress modestly, and share the gospel with
unbelievers… but not without also helping the immigrant, visiting the ill and
prisoner, reaching out to the unwanted, speaking truth to power. It’s not an either-or scenario. Doing the outward, obvious, and – dare I say –
easy part does not exempt one from the Christian responsibility to put oneself
out there, risk ridicule and ostracism along with our brothers and sisters whom
we are to help, serve, and thereby lead to Christ.
Purpose of Religion
When I think of religion, I think of a set of beliefs shared by a group of people, beliefs that are meant to motivate said people to live up to their potential, continuously become a better version of themselves, and empty themselves in order to allow the Divine to better live through them.
To me, religion is the science of things we cannot see or explain using current sets of knowledge. It is esoteric, experimental, subtle, massively grand, fascinatingly awe-inspiring… or at least these descriptions can be applied to the Divine (aka God to many people) that religion seeks to explain.
Religion is supposed to be an easy label to help categorize people according to the style of worship, core values, meaningful traditions and rituals, and underlying beliefs.
Is religion necessary in order to live a life pleasing to God? Religion, by definition, requires a group of people agreeing on certain core tenets. As such, it is true to say that there is no such think as a “religion of one”. However, is religion even necessary to please God?
One thing that is grossly missing in a lot of religious people’s lives is the process of personal discernment. Discernment requires a one-on-one relationship with the Almighty. Many Christians use the phrase “personal relationship with Christ”, but discernment isn’t merely “having” a relationship, but rather it describes how we are in this relationship. Discernment is quiet listening and waiting for the subtleties of God speaking to our hearts with His instructions, guidance, encouragement, consolation. Lots of people like to talk to God, many fewer ever take the time to listen to God speaking back.
Discernment is how Abraham went down in history as the father of monotheism. Discernment is how Jesus asserted His role in salvific history. Discernment is how Muhammad brought monotheism to people who may not have otherwise known it. Abraham was not Jewish; Jesus was not Christian; Muhammad was not Muslim. What made them great is not their religious affiliation, but their one-on-one relationship with the Almighty, which was defined by a life of discernment. We, too, can have that kind of relationship with God, regardless of where, when, or how we worship, or how we try to differentiate ourselves from others, or which of the many worthy values we choose to prioritize.
The worst thing that can happen to a spiritually minded person is group-think. Group-think, in the case of religion, is the idea that there is only one way to interpret ultimate reality, and that we (rather than anyone else) have it all figured out. Group-think forces people to choose a sense of community over the much scarier and lonelier road that leads to personal revelation. Group-think limits believers’ freedom, tries to tell them “they” (meaning whoever happens to be in a position of greatest authority in the group) have the correct interpretation and we ought to just fall in line if we know what’s good for us. Group-think uses fear tactics to herd people together. Group-think limits the very thing God created each of us for – freedom (think free will), courage, service, self-lessness.
If I’m being honest with myself, I do a lot of religious things. I do a lot of spiritual things. But I’m not truly following Jesus yet because I am constantly checking with “the powers that be” to see if what I’m receiving in prayer fits with what others have already acknowledged and affirmed. I’m not following Jesus because I worry about being questioned, being accused of wrong interpretation, being wrong. I’m not following Jesus because there is no fear in perfect love, and love is what Jesus is calling me to.
Much like the Sabbath, which Jesus said was made for man, not the other way around, I believe the Church likewise was made for man. The Church is supposed to be there to strengthen its members, to encourage its members, to support its members. Instead, what I often see is the Church dangling the promise of belongingness to those who check their critical thinking at the door. I see the Church manipulating control away from individuals for the sake of the group, but in the process the entire group suffers, not to mention all those outside the group. Jesus didn’t come to save one group among many. He came to save everybody. Regardless of religious affiliation.
Jesus was clear when He said there was only one thing needed for eternal life: to love God with everything we’ve got, and to love others the way we love ourselves (which also requires us to actually love ourselves in the first place, by the way) (Matthew 22:36-40). Elsewhere He also said that many people will cry out “Lord, Lord”, but He will look at the lives they led (not the beliefs they held) when admitting people into the Kingdom of God (Matthew 7:22-28). It’s interesting to note that the last verse here (Matthew 7:28) says, “when Jesus had finished these words, the multitudes were astonished at his teaching.” Even today, I think many religious, pious people would be “astonished” at this teaching. They’d be saying “yes, but…” Jesus doesn’t leave anything left to interpretation here. To follow Jesus means to DO God’s will. Not to talk about it, not to believe in it, but to DO it.
Yet most religiously-affiliated people are much too concerned about “right beliefs” or “right interpretations” than “right actions”. Oh, lots of people worry about the “right actions” of other people – quick to point out what people shouldn’t be doing because “the Bible says…”, but less people apply this standard to themselves. (Matthew 7:3 calls this “looking at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and paying no attention to the plank in your own eye.”)
Jesus calls us to change ourselves in order to change the world. He does not call us to strong-handedly attempt to change others by preaching at them, making laws that force people into a certain lifestyle over another, or denying people civil rights “on principle”. Recently, I’m saddened at the way people have used the catch-phrase “religious freedom” to try to force their own interpretations of Scriptures onto other people. They are held up by many religious people as modern day quasi-martyrs, when in fact, Jesus had something to say about the place of secular law in a spiritual person’s life when He said in Mathew 12:17, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” Civil rights, social justice, these are secular ideals and they belong in the secular realm. Our spiritual beliefs ought to motivate us to live them out, not to change them according to our own interpretations. What applies to one group of people must apply to all groups of people.
There are people who will read this and cry “heretic”! Yet to be a heretic, one must first accept the premise that there even is such a thing as “accepted belief or doctrine”. Accepted by whom? Doesn’t this term basically mean that everyone is a heretic in relation to some set of beliefs? What is the point of such a label?
The beauty of Scriptures is that it is the living word of God. It is open to interpretation, and as such, is capable of speaking directly to the condition of an individual reader’s (or hearer’s) heart, based on their unique circumstances, life experiences, and personality traits. This is the subtlety of God at it’s finest. This is discernment. There is no “how-to” guide to pleasing God that is equally applicable to everyone. Each of us must consult God directly and honestly, willing to be called a heretic, willing to be ostracized, willing to be threatened with the withdrawal of community, willing to put one’s conscience on the line for the sake of truth. Truth is ultimate, but it is not simple nor easy to explain.
Truth and application are in fact not one and the same. Gravity is true. Yet how gravity applies to someone walking a tightrope versus how it applies to our very planet in orbit differs. The point of reference for each is different. It doesn’t make gravity any less true in one of the circumstances. While on Earth, gravity pulls us towards its center. While in the cosmos, our Earth orbits around the Sun, not itself. The planet is no longer the source of that gravity. Likewise, God calls each of us to Himself in different ways, and none of us are able to discern on behalf of anyone else. It simply cannot be done. We can impose our own interpretations onto others, but this is not the same, nor is it in any way helpful to either party, and certainly it’s not what God calls each individual to do.
So, if I can’t simply trust my religion to tell me what God wants me to do, how do I please God? What exactly do I need to be doing, on a regular, even daily, basis, so that I know that I am right with God? How exactly does a life following Jesus look like?
I know it doesn’t look like sitting comfortably in my middle-class suburban home, enjoying many luxuries that my husband’s salary can afford our family of 4, without actually sharing the wealth with others. I know it doesn’t look like writing a check here and there and patting myself on the back for “being generous.” I know it doesn’t look like enjoying myself in worship, being intellectually stimulated by a provocative homily, moved to tears by inspiring music, comforted by beautiful stained glass or other decorations. It doesn’t look like simply being known by name by many people who happen to spend time at the same place as I do during the same times (Mass at my church, the same events and small groups, etc). I know that it does not mean simply following the 10 commandments. Um, those are pretty basic. Like, Kindergarten in the school of life. You have to have those down before moving on to bigger and better things, but you certainly have not graduated if that’s all you’ve got.
Jesus actually did give us several ideas, both through His words and through His actions. He spent time with people no respectable person wanted to be caught with. He talked to them as if He didn’t realize their past mistakes. Yet He did not coddle them. He called them out of themselves, challenged them to keep striving to be better, not to settle. He healed those who were in need of healing. He celebrated the good times and wept along side others during the sad times. He got justifiably upset at people who were cheating others (turning over tables at the temple). He called out those who said one thing but did another. He welcomed everyone willing to follow Him. He turned no one away. Sometimes people turned away from Him on their own, but it was never He who turned them away. He also took time for Himself. He lived by example form start to finish. He knew that time alone with God the Father Almighty was what gave Him the Spirit of conviction, courage, wisdom. He knew there must be a balance between service and self-care.
And He told us in the Beatitudes some examples of what following Him entails (in Matthew 5:3-12): Blessed (happy) are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted because of righteousness, those who are insulted or persecuted or falsely accused because of Him.
To me, religion is the science of things we cannot see or explain using current sets of knowledge. It is esoteric, experimental, subtle, massively grand, fascinatingly awe-inspiring… or at least these descriptions can be applied to the Divine (aka God to many people) that religion seeks to explain.
Religion is supposed to be an easy label to help categorize people according to the style of worship, core values, meaningful traditions and rituals, and underlying beliefs.
Is religion necessary in order to live a life pleasing to God? Religion, by definition, requires a group of people agreeing on certain core tenets. As such, it is true to say that there is no such think as a “religion of one”. However, is religion even necessary to please God?
One thing that is grossly missing in a lot of religious people’s lives is the process of personal discernment. Discernment requires a one-on-one relationship with the Almighty. Many Christians use the phrase “personal relationship with Christ”, but discernment isn’t merely “having” a relationship, but rather it describes how we are in this relationship. Discernment is quiet listening and waiting for the subtleties of God speaking to our hearts with His instructions, guidance, encouragement, consolation. Lots of people like to talk to God, many fewer ever take the time to listen to God speaking back.
Discernment is how Abraham went down in history as the father of monotheism. Discernment is how Jesus asserted His role in salvific history. Discernment is how Muhammad brought monotheism to people who may not have otherwise known it. Abraham was not Jewish; Jesus was not Christian; Muhammad was not Muslim. What made them great is not their religious affiliation, but their one-on-one relationship with the Almighty, which was defined by a life of discernment. We, too, can have that kind of relationship with God, regardless of where, when, or how we worship, or how we try to differentiate ourselves from others, or which of the many worthy values we choose to prioritize.
The worst thing that can happen to a spiritually minded person is group-think. Group-think, in the case of religion, is the idea that there is only one way to interpret ultimate reality, and that we (rather than anyone else) have it all figured out. Group-think forces people to choose a sense of community over the much scarier and lonelier road that leads to personal revelation. Group-think limits believers’ freedom, tries to tell them “they” (meaning whoever happens to be in a position of greatest authority in the group) have the correct interpretation and we ought to just fall in line if we know what’s good for us. Group-think uses fear tactics to herd people together. Group-think limits the very thing God created each of us for – freedom (think free will), courage, service, self-lessness.
If I’m being honest with myself, I do a lot of religious things. I do a lot of spiritual things. But I’m not truly following Jesus yet because I am constantly checking with “the powers that be” to see if what I’m receiving in prayer fits with what others have already acknowledged and affirmed. I’m not following Jesus because I worry about being questioned, being accused of wrong interpretation, being wrong. I’m not following Jesus because there is no fear in perfect love, and love is what Jesus is calling me to.
Much like the Sabbath, which Jesus said was made for man, not the other way around, I believe the Church likewise was made for man. The Church is supposed to be there to strengthen its members, to encourage its members, to support its members. Instead, what I often see is the Church dangling the promise of belongingness to those who check their critical thinking at the door. I see the Church manipulating control away from individuals for the sake of the group, but in the process the entire group suffers, not to mention all those outside the group. Jesus didn’t come to save one group among many. He came to save everybody. Regardless of religious affiliation.
Jesus was clear when He said there was only one thing needed for eternal life: to love God with everything we’ve got, and to love others the way we love ourselves (which also requires us to actually love ourselves in the first place, by the way) (Matthew 22:36-40). Elsewhere He also said that many people will cry out “Lord, Lord”, but He will look at the lives they led (not the beliefs they held) when admitting people into the Kingdom of God (Matthew 7:22-28). It’s interesting to note that the last verse here (Matthew 7:28) says, “when Jesus had finished these words, the multitudes were astonished at his teaching.” Even today, I think many religious, pious people would be “astonished” at this teaching. They’d be saying “yes, but…” Jesus doesn’t leave anything left to interpretation here. To follow Jesus means to DO God’s will. Not to talk about it, not to believe in it, but to DO it.
Yet most religiously-affiliated people are much too concerned about “right beliefs” or “right interpretations” than “right actions”. Oh, lots of people worry about the “right actions” of other people – quick to point out what people shouldn’t be doing because “the Bible says…”, but less people apply this standard to themselves. (Matthew 7:3 calls this “looking at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and paying no attention to the plank in your own eye.”)
Jesus calls us to change ourselves in order to change the world. He does not call us to strong-handedly attempt to change others by preaching at them, making laws that force people into a certain lifestyle over another, or denying people civil rights “on principle”. Recently, I’m saddened at the way people have used the catch-phrase “religious freedom” to try to force their own interpretations of Scriptures onto other people. They are held up by many religious people as modern day quasi-martyrs, when in fact, Jesus had something to say about the place of secular law in a spiritual person’s life when He said in Mathew 12:17, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” Civil rights, social justice, these are secular ideals and they belong in the secular realm. Our spiritual beliefs ought to motivate us to live them out, not to change them according to our own interpretations. What applies to one group of people must apply to all groups of people.
There are people who will read this and cry “heretic”! Yet to be a heretic, one must first accept the premise that there even is such a thing as “accepted belief or doctrine”. Accepted by whom? Doesn’t this term basically mean that everyone is a heretic in relation to some set of beliefs? What is the point of such a label?
The beauty of Scriptures is that it is the living word of God. It is open to interpretation, and as such, is capable of speaking directly to the condition of an individual reader’s (or hearer’s) heart, based on their unique circumstances, life experiences, and personality traits. This is the subtlety of God at it’s finest. This is discernment. There is no “how-to” guide to pleasing God that is equally applicable to everyone. Each of us must consult God directly and honestly, willing to be called a heretic, willing to be ostracized, willing to be threatened with the withdrawal of community, willing to put one’s conscience on the line for the sake of truth. Truth is ultimate, but it is not simple nor easy to explain.
Truth and application are in fact not one and the same. Gravity is true. Yet how gravity applies to someone walking a tightrope versus how it applies to our very planet in orbit differs. The point of reference for each is different. It doesn’t make gravity any less true in one of the circumstances. While on Earth, gravity pulls us towards its center. While in the cosmos, our Earth orbits around the Sun, not itself. The planet is no longer the source of that gravity. Likewise, God calls each of us to Himself in different ways, and none of us are able to discern on behalf of anyone else. It simply cannot be done. We can impose our own interpretations onto others, but this is not the same, nor is it in any way helpful to either party, and certainly it’s not what God calls each individual to do.
So, if I can’t simply trust my religion to tell me what God wants me to do, how do I please God? What exactly do I need to be doing, on a regular, even daily, basis, so that I know that I am right with God? How exactly does a life following Jesus look like?
I know it doesn’t look like sitting comfortably in my middle-class suburban home, enjoying many luxuries that my husband’s salary can afford our family of 4, without actually sharing the wealth with others. I know it doesn’t look like writing a check here and there and patting myself on the back for “being generous.” I know it doesn’t look like enjoying myself in worship, being intellectually stimulated by a provocative homily, moved to tears by inspiring music, comforted by beautiful stained glass or other decorations. It doesn’t look like simply being known by name by many people who happen to spend time at the same place as I do during the same times (Mass at my church, the same events and small groups, etc). I know that it does not mean simply following the 10 commandments. Um, those are pretty basic. Like, Kindergarten in the school of life. You have to have those down before moving on to bigger and better things, but you certainly have not graduated if that’s all you’ve got.
Jesus actually did give us several ideas, both through His words and through His actions. He spent time with people no respectable person wanted to be caught with. He talked to them as if He didn’t realize their past mistakes. Yet He did not coddle them. He called them out of themselves, challenged them to keep striving to be better, not to settle. He healed those who were in need of healing. He celebrated the good times and wept along side others during the sad times. He got justifiably upset at people who were cheating others (turning over tables at the temple). He called out those who said one thing but did another. He welcomed everyone willing to follow Him. He turned no one away. Sometimes people turned away from Him on their own, but it was never He who turned them away. He also took time for Himself. He lived by example form start to finish. He knew that time alone with God the Father Almighty was what gave Him the Spirit of conviction, courage, wisdom. He knew there must be a balance between service and self-care.
And He told us in the Beatitudes some examples of what following Him entails (in Matthew 5:3-12): Blessed (happy) are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted because of righteousness, those who are insulted or persecuted or falsely accused because of Him.
Saturday, February 9, 2019
Ramblings
What would it look like for me to hold certain beliefs in the deep crevices of my being that don't align with the official teachings of the church to which I choose to belong? I think this is the underlying question I have long tried to make sense of in my spiral revisiting of the various faith traditions in the world.
I am learning about natural law and principles, and conscience has come to my awareness. Even the Catholic Church teaches that we are not to go against our own conscience. While it also says we are responsible for forming our conscience in alignment with official church teachings, the only way I can see that holding water is to expect any Catholic of good will to educate herself on what the Church teaches and why. And/but once this is done, what if my conscience still disagrees with what Catholics higher up in the hierarchy believe, those with the institutional power to announce that their revelations are straight from God while mine, as a common layperson, are subject to the influences of demonic forces (I may be exaggerating just a smidgen here)?
A person cannot be compelled to believe anything without clear evidence to support any given claim. And in a lot of cases - most I would even venture to say - what constitutes "clear evidence" is subject to interpretation.
Speaking of interpretation, I once heard this great Catholic reproof for Protestants: "every Protestant is his or her own Pope." Today, I don't actually think this is something bad. If the papacy is seen by Catholics as something positive, as a way of interpreting Scriptures, then to assign that title to individual Christians who opt to be their own pope is merely saying that a different fallible human being is interpreting Scriptures.
I will dive into the papal argument another time, but for today, what I'm trying to unpack is my initial question: what does it look like to live in line with one's own conscience while at the same time stay aligned with an official denomination?
Followingjesus.org gives some ideas. What are the possible points of contention of such an arrangement? First and foremost, when we adamantly disagree with what is preached from the pulpit on a regular basis, this would likely not be a good arrangement. If we cannot be open about our own lifestyle and expect full support from the fellowship of the church, this also wouldn't be a healthy set-up. But what if both my conscience and my church teach me to turn inward and trust God? What if they both tell me to discern the will of God in my life on an ongoing basis? What if they both tell me to empty myself of all the vices and serve others?
Do the countless differences among the various denominations really matter? It seems that trying to fit one's conscience into one's denomination or vice versa is the reason we have thousands of denominations and countless others who merely go through the motions.
That's the real sorrow of a disconnect, I think. Not that so-called "Cafeteria Catholics" disagree with the church but that they often end up feeling lukewarm because what they do believe is overshadowed by what they don't.
What if I learned to keep silent on issues that don't need to be aired out? What if I don't have to always be right? Is that part of it? I want to belong to a group where what I believe is already considered true and correct? Am I concerned about becoming a social parriah over dissent? Or am I concerned about displeasing my God by holding untrue beliefs? Because only the latter ought to give me pause.
I have explored enough faiths, both with and without Christianity to know that indeed each holds some kernel of truth as to ultimate reality.
Every time I read about the apologetics of a denomination, I see it their way. At least part of what they claim. This used to cause me a lot of flip-flopping, constantly wanting to change affiliation. But now I see that none of these denominations is the verbatim will of God. They're all just interpretations of His will.
I cannot believe that God intended for us to have so many religions and be so totally confused over who is right.... unless of course religion was never meant to be the conveyor of truth, but merely of spiritual practice and cultural tradition, in which case there is no arguing over which is better because they're all equal in His sight.
This must be what His view on the plurality of religion is. It makes no sense to on the one hand allow multiple interpretations and at the same time condemn them all. Because no single denomination is safe from condemnation by at least some other denominations. Jesus wanted unity, and here we are, 2000 years later, bickering over who deserves to sit at His right and left, just like James and John in Mark 10:37.
Let's back up for a bit. What is the spiritual/religious/faith life? What does it consist of?
There's public worship. For us that is the Mass. It includes Scripture reading, singing, communal prayer, a teaching by the priest, reception of the Holy Eucharist, and often a collection. But it is also the optional public worship, like the Festival of Praise at our church once a month, or a group Rosary or Novena.
There's private worship. This is prayer, meditation, contemplation, Scripture reading, singing and listening to Christian music. Being in nature. And anything else that brings us closer to God.
There's fellowship. In our church, we have a monthly family dinner night at the parish. There's often other workshops and classes available. There's small groups and Bible studies. There's Celebrate Recovery and other support groups. There's even a Facebook presence for the ladies of our parish.
There's service. This can be done either in connection with the church, like the monthly Casserole dinner we make and bring back, or otherwise connecting with the homeless population through our SALT program, or the various other opportunities to share our treasure, talent, and/or time. There's serving our own parish community, as well as the community at large, both locally and globally. There's charitable donations and volunteering.
There's morality and virtues. This is the way we live our everyday lives. The decisions we make. How we affect the lives of others. How we grow in self-discipline and in how we view ourselves.
There's how we live out our faith through politics and the law. This is an extension of the previous morality and virtues.
There's apologetics and evangelization. This is how we defend and share our faith and hope in Jesus.
We can, and in fact are called to, serve others regardless of their belief system, if we are to treat all others as we want to be treated, regardless if we agree on matters of faith (or anything else for that matter). Similarly we are to fellowship with others for the sake of spreading the Gospel, so we cannot cut ourselves away from those who don't already believe as we do. The only aspect of religion that seems to truly necessitate uniformity would be public worship. It would be chaos if everyone came with their own agenda to church, each standing up at will to share what was on their mind, some breaking into song, some perhaps into a dance, or otherwise everyone staying silent if no one had anything prepared. Oh, wait, I just described an unprogrammed Quaker Meeting!
It would appear then that even there we don't "have" to be uniform. We just like it that way. We like to draw a line in the sand and say "this is where we begin and this is where others begin". It makes us feel like we belong. But is this what we're called to? To belong to a human-run institution? To belong to a group of fellow humans according to agreed-upon values and beliefs? Or are we called to belong directly to God?
Now, I am not suggesting we eschew organized religion altogether, or communal worship. I am saying that I wish I could simply hear from within my church that even if we disagree, I am still loved by the Father and saved by the Son and strengthened by the spirit. What I hear instead is the need to repent of my sins, meaning anything that veers away from the agreed-upon standard. I hear from some Catholics that I'm wrong for going to New Order mass. I hear from other Catholics that I am wrong for not wearing a headcovering in front of the blessed Sacrament. Some Catholics tell me I'm wrong for having adopted embryos. Others tell me I'm wrong for eating meat on Fridays. There are Catholics that think too much adherence to tradition is scrupulous and not in line with Rome. Then there are Catholics who think too much freedom of expression is disrespectful to the holy presence of God in the tabernacle. Everyone seems to think they speak for God Himself.
And this isn't just Catholics who have a Pope. Protestants do it, based on their own interpretations of various verses. Orthodox do it based on their own patriarch's teachings. Groups that seem to have broken off even further away from mainstream Christianity, either by way of theology, as in the case of nontrinitarian Christians, or by way of lifestyle, as in the case of the Amish, also claim to have found the truth that was lacking in the mainstream.
It seems to be impossible to actually find truth among so many voices. The only way I see around the problem is to transcend the differences all together and focus on natural law and principles.
I am learning about natural law and principles, and conscience has come to my awareness. Even the Catholic Church teaches that we are not to go against our own conscience. While it also says we are responsible for forming our conscience in alignment with official church teachings, the only way I can see that holding water is to expect any Catholic of good will to educate herself on what the Church teaches and why. And/but once this is done, what if my conscience still disagrees with what Catholics higher up in the hierarchy believe, those with the institutional power to announce that their revelations are straight from God while mine, as a common layperson, are subject to the influences of demonic forces (I may be exaggerating just a smidgen here)?
A person cannot be compelled to believe anything without clear evidence to support any given claim. And in a lot of cases - most I would even venture to say - what constitutes "clear evidence" is subject to interpretation.
Speaking of interpretation, I once heard this great Catholic reproof for Protestants: "every Protestant is his or her own Pope." Today, I don't actually think this is something bad. If the papacy is seen by Catholics as something positive, as a way of interpreting Scriptures, then to assign that title to individual Christians who opt to be their own pope is merely saying that a different fallible human being is interpreting Scriptures.
I will dive into the papal argument another time, but for today, what I'm trying to unpack is my initial question: what does it look like to live in line with one's own conscience while at the same time stay aligned with an official denomination?
Followingjesus.org gives some ideas. What are the possible points of contention of such an arrangement? First and foremost, when we adamantly disagree with what is preached from the pulpit on a regular basis, this would likely not be a good arrangement. If we cannot be open about our own lifestyle and expect full support from the fellowship of the church, this also wouldn't be a healthy set-up. But what if both my conscience and my church teach me to turn inward and trust God? What if they both tell me to discern the will of God in my life on an ongoing basis? What if they both tell me to empty myself of all the vices and serve others?
Do the countless differences among the various denominations really matter? It seems that trying to fit one's conscience into one's denomination or vice versa is the reason we have thousands of denominations and countless others who merely go through the motions.
That's the real sorrow of a disconnect, I think. Not that so-called "Cafeteria Catholics" disagree with the church but that they often end up feeling lukewarm because what they do believe is overshadowed by what they don't.
What if I learned to keep silent on issues that don't need to be aired out? What if I don't have to always be right? Is that part of it? I want to belong to a group where what I believe is already considered true and correct? Am I concerned about becoming a social parriah over dissent? Or am I concerned about displeasing my God by holding untrue beliefs? Because only the latter ought to give me pause.
I have explored enough faiths, both with and without Christianity to know that indeed each holds some kernel of truth as to ultimate reality.
Every time I read about the apologetics of a denomination, I see it their way. At least part of what they claim. This used to cause me a lot of flip-flopping, constantly wanting to change affiliation. But now I see that none of these denominations is the verbatim will of God. They're all just interpretations of His will.
I cannot believe that God intended for us to have so many religions and be so totally confused over who is right.... unless of course religion was never meant to be the conveyor of truth, but merely of spiritual practice and cultural tradition, in which case there is no arguing over which is better because they're all equal in His sight.
This must be what His view on the plurality of religion is. It makes no sense to on the one hand allow multiple interpretations and at the same time condemn them all. Because no single denomination is safe from condemnation by at least some other denominations. Jesus wanted unity, and here we are, 2000 years later, bickering over who deserves to sit at His right and left, just like James and John in Mark 10:37.
Let's back up for a bit. What is the spiritual/religious/faith life? What does it consist of?
There's public worship. For us that is the Mass. It includes Scripture reading, singing, communal prayer, a teaching by the priest, reception of the Holy Eucharist, and often a collection. But it is also the optional public worship, like the Festival of Praise at our church once a month, or a group Rosary or Novena.
There's private worship. This is prayer, meditation, contemplation, Scripture reading, singing and listening to Christian music. Being in nature. And anything else that brings us closer to God.
There's fellowship. In our church, we have a monthly family dinner night at the parish. There's often other workshops and classes available. There's small groups and Bible studies. There's Celebrate Recovery and other support groups. There's even a Facebook presence for the ladies of our parish.
There's service. This can be done either in connection with the church, like the monthly Casserole dinner we make and bring back, or otherwise connecting with the homeless population through our SALT program, or the various other opportunities to share our treasure, talent, and/or time. There's serving our own parish community, as well as the community at large, both locally and globally. There's charitable donations and volunteering.
There's morality and virtues. This is the way we live our everyday lives. The decisions we make. How we affect the lives of others. How we grow in self-discipline and in how we view ourselves.
There's how we live out our faith through politics and the law. This is an extension of the previous morality and virtues.
There's apologetics and evangelization. This is how we defend and share our faith and hope in Jesus.
We can, and in fact are called to, serve others regardless of their belief system, if we are to treat all others as we want to be treated, regardless if we agree on matters of faith (or anything else for that matter). Similarly we are to fellowship with others for the sake of spreading the Gospel, so we cannot cut ourselves away from those who don't already believe as we do. The only aspect of religion that seems to truly necessitate uniformity would be public worship. It would be chaos if everyone came with their own agenda to church, each standing up at will to share what was on their mind, some breaking into song, some perhaps into a dance, or otherwise everyone staying silent if no one had anything prepared. Oh, wait, I just described an unprogrammed Quaker Meeting!
It would appear then that even there we don't "have" to be uniform. We just like it that way. We like to draw a line in the sand and say "this is where we begin and this is where others begin". It makes us feel like we belong. But is this what we're called to? To belong to a human-run institution? To belong to a group of fellow humans according to agreed-upon values and beliefs? Or are we called to belong directly to God?
Now, I am not suggesting we eschew organized religion altogether, or communal worship. I am saying that I wish I could simply hear from within my church that even if we disagree, I am still loved by the Father and saved by the Son and strengthened by the spirit. What I hear instead is the need to repent of my sins, meaning anything that veers away from the agreed-upon standard. I hear from some Catholics that I'm wrong for going to New Order mass. I hear from other Catholics that I am wrong for not wearing a headcovering in front of the blessed Sacrament. Some Catholics tell me I'm wrong for having adopted embryos. Others tell me I'm wrong for eating meat on Fridays. There are Catholics that think too much adherence to tradition is scrupulous and not in line with Rome. Then there are Catholics who think too much freedom of expression is disrespectful to the holy presence of God in the tabernacle. Everyone seems to think they speak for God Himself.
And this isn't just Catholics who have a Pope. Protestants do it, based on their own interpretations of various verses. Orthodox do it based on their own patriarch's teachings. Groups that seem to have broken off even further away from mainstream Christianity, either by way of theology, as in the case of nontrinitarian Christians, or by way of lifestyle, as in the case of the Amish, also claim to have found the truth that was lacking in the mainstream.
It seems to be impossible to actually find truth among so many voices. The only way I see around the problem is to transcend the differences all together and focus on natural law and principles.
Saturday, February 2, 2019
Will My Soul Never Find Rest?
Believe it or not, my previous crisis of faith was actually very short-lived. A week I think. Everything went back to normal, growing in my relationship with Christ... or God? Now, if you're a to-the-core Trinitarian Christian, you won't understand why the previous sentence. But this actually snuck up on me out of nowhere, it seems. I had actually just posted the following on my Facebook page regarding why I believe in the Trinity:
Why I believe in the Christian God:
if God is beyond all human understanding,
if God is not merely "made in the image of man" (as many nonbelievers would claim),
if we cannot "see God and live" (see Exodus 33:20),
then it's too simplistic to think God is a mere being like us, only omnipotent and omnicient.
No, the mystery of the holy Trinity is mind boggling enough to tell me it's closer to the reality than any other interpretation of God.
My inability to understand is no measure of an idea's truth.
There's plenty I don't understand about the natural world, why should it be any different about the supernatural spiritual realm?
And what DO I understand about the Trinity?
That God transcends individuality and is Father AND Son AND Holy Spirit.
That for God to "be love" as so many unaffiliated people like to say, He must be a relationship, not an individual, for love is self-sacrificing and never focused on the self.
And just as Jesus said in John 15:13, "there is no greater love than to give up one's life for a friend", which He did.
The immortal God couldn't have given up His life for us had He not first been incarnated as one of us, voluntarily and temporarily limiting Himself for our sake.
THIS is why I am a Christian. Not based on blind faith or habit but based on sheer reasoning.
And yet, not more than a week later, I suddenly have an almost overwhelming sense of guilt over calling Jesus God. I think, "am I an idolater?" I wonder, "am I keeping to the First Commandment?" And interestingly, for the first time in my spiritual journey, I want to know the truth. This is huge, because it means that I assume the truth can be known. In the past, I've only looked for a good fit between my personal values and beliefs and those of various religions.
I find myself praying before reading Scriptures for the Lord to open the eyes of my heart and to allow me to get to know Him better. In my personal prayer time, I've talked to God directly, unencumbered by thoughts of what "the powers that be" would have me believe about how I ought to address my Maker.
I know that I most likely will not leave the Catholic church because I do not expect to find a church community that is any better of a match for me than the one I'm already comfortable and familiar with. Yet I still feel an urgency to figure out my beliefs for the sake of integrity when it comes to teaching "the faith" to my children.
Not too long ago, during a Bible lesson with my 5 year old, we were reviewing the meaning of the Sabbath and when I said that God created everything, my daughter said, "I thought Jesus created everything?" Now I was stumped. I know that we say that God the Father created everything "through" Jesus the Logos or Word, before His incarnation, but we also talk about Jesus being our salvation, and the first point in our family mission statement (yes, we have one!) is that "we aspire to be a Christ-centered family". To be honest, I'm actually quite confused by the whole thing.
I had the same issues with Catholic devotion to Mary. Once I left Paganism and had a layover in quasi-evangelical Protestantism, I no longer felt the same desire to honor Mary as I did when I actually ascribed a lot more meaning to her than was appropriate from a Catholic Christian standpoint. My spiritual director tried to help me past this. I went through the motions of a Marian consecration and everything. But sorry, no relationship with Mary has developed. I'm too busy trying to focus on following Jesus. And now, I'm at the same standstill.
The single most important commandment, arguably, is to love God. I need to know somewhat Who this God is in order to love Him. What if ascribing divinity or even Godhood itself to Jesus, even if He is the Messiah, is actually contrary to loving God by placing my entire spiritual focus on - at best, an incarnation, and at worst, a mere mortal? If Jesus is not God, I can love Jesus to the moon and back and I still won't be fulfilling the first commandment to love God. Of course, if Jesus is God, then indeed I am loving God by loving Jesus. But how to know which is true?
It would appear to me that something as fundamental as knowing Who God is shouldn't be shrouded in so much mystery. It should be blatantly obvious, at least if God expects everyone to actually come to know and love Him. If a person needs to read Scriptures, turn to a priest, keep track of various devotions and ordinances, in order to please God, then this automatically eliminates the majority of people on the planet, first of all, and second of all, creates havoc and chaos among those who know to do this but disagree on how! Yet we know God is not a God of confusion but of peace! At least that is my fundamental understanding.
I thought I found what I was looking for the other day when I started reading (again) about Christian Deism. It really resonated with me - the God of nature, available for everyone to experience directly just by observing nature and being still enough to feel Him resonate inside our hearts and minds. Christian Deists, as opposed to traditional deists, do believe God continues to be interested in our lives, and they do pray. They don't, however, expect miracles. One miracle in particular they don't believe in is the Resurrection of Jesus.
And this is where I had to stop. I realized that I do think I believe in His Resurrection. I also believe in His Real Presence in the Eucharist. Please note neither of these beliefs necessitates that I believe Jesus is God. God can do anything, including resurrect Jesus, and including allow Him to stay present to us in the form of Holy Communion. It would seem then that the easiest thing for me to do would be to just sit tight and keep quiet about my Arian heresy.
At the moment, I don't see another viable solution. I enjoy and understand and benefit from Catholic worship and community. I agree with the majority of Catholic social teaching. And I don't see any reasonable alternatives as far as church homes. Perhaps I just ease away from talking about the Trinity and focus on what I DO believe that IS in line with Catholic teaching, both for my own sake and that of my kids. We can still be a Christ-centered family, since His ethics and example are superb. We can still "want the atmosphere of our home to be built on the fruits of the holy spirit" (the third point of our family mission statement), although I think I may stop capitalizing both words, rather thinking of it (not "him") as the holy spirit of God.
Really, this is scupulosity in one direction, as opposed to in the typical direction... well, not really. Scupulosity is the extreme desire for virtuous decisions, and that's my motivation as well, so I guess this is an example of my scrupulously trying to adhere to the first commandment... This is quite an insightful eureka, actually, if I say so myself... let me go think on that some more!
💝
Why I believe in the Christian God:
if God is beyond all human understanding,
if God is not merely "made in the image of man" (as many nonbelievers would claim),
if we cannot "see God and live" (see Exodus 33:20),
then it's too simplistic to think God is a mere being like us, only omnipotent and omnicient.
No, the mystery of the holy Trinity is mind boggling enough to tell me it's closer to the reality than any other interpretation of God.
My inability to understand is no measure of an idea's truth.
There's plenty I don't understand about the natural world, why should it be any different about the supernatural spiritual realm?
And what DO I understand about the Trinity?
That God transcends individuality and is Father AND Son AND Holy Spirit.
That for God to "be love" as so many unaffiliated people like to say, He must be a relationship, not an individual, for love is self-sacrificing and never focused on the self.
And just as Jesus said in John 15:13, "there is no greater love than to give up one's life for a friend", which He did.
The immortal God couldn't have given up His life for us had He not first been incarnated as one of us, voluntarily and temporarily limiting Himself for our sake.
THIS is why I am a Christian. Not based on blind faith or habit but based on sheer reasoning.
And yet, not more than a week later, I suddenly have an almost overwhelming sense of guilt over calling Jesus God. I think, "am I an idolater?" I wonder, "am I keeping to the First Commandment?" And interestingly, for the first time in my spiritual journey, I want to know the truth. This is huge, because it means that I assume the truth can be known. In the past, I've only looked for a good fit between my personal values and beliefs and those of various religions.
I find myself praying before reading Scriptures for the Lord to open the eyes of my heart and to allow me to get to know Him better. In my personal prayer time, I've talked to God directly, unencumbered by thoughts of what "the powers that be" would have me believe about how I ought to address my Maker.
I know that I most likely will not leave the Catholic church because I do not expect to find a church community that is any better of a match for me than the one I'm already comfortable and familiar with. Yet I still feel an urgency to figure out my beliefs for the sake of integrity when it comes to teaching "the faith" to my children.
Not too long ago, during a Bible lesson with my 5 year old, we were reviewing the meaning of the Sabbath and when I said that God created everything, my daughter said, "I thought Jesus created everything?" Now I was stumped. I know that we say that God the Father created everything "through" Jesus the Logos or Word, before His incarnation, but we also talk about Jesus being our salvation, and the first point in our family mission statement (yes, we have one!) is that "we aspire to be a Christ-centered family". To be honest, I'm actually quite confused by the whole thing.
I had the same issues with Catholic devotion to Mary. Once I left Paganism and had a layover in quasi-evangelical Protestantism, I no longer felt the same desire to honor Mary as I did when I actually ascribed a lot more meaning to her than was appropriate from a Catholic Christian standpoint. My spiritual director tried to help me past this. I went through the motions of a Marian consecration and everything. But sorry, no relationship with Mary has developed. I'm too busy trying to focus on following Jesus. And now, I'm at the same standstill.
The single most important commandment, arguably, is to love God. I need to know somewhat Who this God is in order to love Him. What if ascribing divinity or even Godhood itself to Jesus, even if He is the Messiah, is actually contrary to loving God by placing my entire spiritual focus on - at best, an incarnation, and at worst, a mere mortal? If Jesus is not God, I can love Jesus to the moon and back and I still won't be fulfilling the first commandment to love God. Of course, if Jesus is God, then indeed I am loving God by loving Jesus. But how to know which is true?
It would appear to me that something as fundamental as knowing Who God is shouldn't be shrouded in so much mystery. It should be blatantly obvious, at least if God expects everyone to actually come to know and love Him. If a person needs to read Scriptures, turn to a priest, keep track of various devotions and ordinances, in order to please God, then this automatically eliminates the majority of people on the planet, first of all, and second of all, creates havoc and chaos among those who know to do this but disagree on how! Yet we know God is not a God of confusion but of peace! At least that is my fundamental understanding.
I thought I found what I was looking for the other day when I started reading (again) about Christian Deism. It really resonated with me - the God of nature, available for everyone to experience directly just by observing nature and being still enough to feel Him resonate inside our hearts and minds. Christian Deists, as opposed to traditional deists, do believe God continues to be interested in our lives, and they do pray. They don't, however, expect miracles. One miracle in particular they don't believe in is the Resurrection of Jesus.
And this is where I had to stop. I realized that I do think I believe in His Resurrection. I also believe in His Real Presence in the Eucharist. Please note neither of these beliefs necessitates that I believe Jesus is God. God can do anything, including resurrect Jesus, and including allow Him to stay present to us in the form of Holy Communion. It would seem then that the easiest thing for me to do would be to just sit tight and keep quiet about my Arian heresy.
At the moment, I don't see another viable solution. I enjoy and understand and benefit from Catholic worship and community. I agree with the majority of Catholic social teaching. And I don't see any reasonable alternatives as far as church homes. Perhaps I just ease away from talking about the Trinity and focus on what I DO believe that IS in line with Catholic teaching, both for my own sake and that of my kids. We can still be a Christ-centered family, since His ethics and example are superb. We can still "want the atmosphere of our home to be built on the fruits of the holy spirit" (the third point of our family mission statement), although I think I may stop capitalizing both words, rather thinking of it (not "him") as the holy spirit of God.
Really, this is scupulosity in one direction, as opposed to in the typical direction... well, not really. Scupulosity is the extreme desire for virtuous decisions, and that's my motivation as well, so I guess this is an example of my scrupulously trying to adhere to the first commandment... This is quite an insightful eureka, actually, if I say so myself... let me go think on that some more!
💝
Sunday, September 9, 2018
Should I Stay or Should I Go?
This seems to be the question on the minds of many faithful Catholics who feel they are at a cross-roads right now with the shameful state of the church. I can only speak for myself, but when I finally started reading up on what all the talk was about, I started to make several observations about my faith.
1. I feel torn between wanting to stay and quite frankly go on with life as planned before I realized what had been going on for decades, and wanting to disassociate myself with a church that no longer sounds like it's living up to its promises.
2. I have realized that I have idolized my denominational affiliation over my relationship with Christ. My current parish family has been amazing in slowly but surely helping me work on what's important - namely my relationship with Jesus, but this has not been my Catholic experience prior to this parish.
3. I am going back to the Scriptures, weighing the interpretations of different denominations, and really questioning some of the unique aspects of Catholicism. Jesus's Real Presence in the Eucharist is chief among these. It seems that faithful Catholics who are not considering leaving the church simply refer to Jesus' Real Presence and say with resignation, "where else could we go?" But as I've found out, this is a misleading question, because several other denominations believe in some version of a literal interpretation of John 6's Discourse of the Bread of Life.
4. Which brings me to my next thought - is it Jesus's Real Presence in the Eucharist that I want to continue to have access to in my church community? Do I really believe that I cannot follow Christ, cannot have a relationship with Him, cannot do His will, unless I receiving Him in Holy Communion? (The answer is a resounding no, underlined actually by a statistic I learned from today's homily. Apparently only 6% of Catholics believe that sharing the gospel is a priority. Um, what are we doing in church then people? Are we not listening at all at the end of Mass when we are sent out to do just that?) Are we looking at weighing the reality of our Eucharistic Lord against having a vivid and real relationship with our Savior? Is it an either-or situation? Certainly, there is room for both, but in my experience, having Jesus physically yet mysteriously present in the Eucharist has set up boundaries around Him. It has limited where I turn to find Him. It has encouraged a private devotion with zero interest in sharing Him with others.
5. Is my desire to remain Catholic a holdover from simply what is familiar? And if so, is that in itself so bad? Well, I don't think so, with one big caveat: If I stay, I nonetheless have to do something. What, I don't know yet, but something. If I stay and do nothing, then yes, I am condoning the scandal and the cover-up. And I am not OK with that.
6. And if access to our Eucharistic Lord is a hindrance to a living relationship with Christ, am I then obligated to distance myself from this one manifestation of Jesus in order to better find Him elsewhere? Because regardless, ultimately I am to share Christ. Which brings me to a good resting point. This week I start the Sharing Christ series, the third and final installment of an intentional discipleship series I've been participating in. Perhaps there I can get some clarity.
Practical reasons why I need to commit - and soon - to stay or go, in no particular order:
1. Choice of homeschooling history curriculum spine. Do I want the Catholic-friendly Story of Civilization, or the Protestant (and hence at times anti-Catholic) Story of the World?
2. Do we prepare our children for their first Reconciliation and Communion in a few years as planned?
3. Do we change how we talk about God to our children?
4. Do we change how we pray? What we pray?
5. Do we embark on a dual denominational period during which we start exposing our kids to a church community that isn't centered on the Eucharist?
I think the best thing for me to do right now is to pretend there is no other church to which we can belong (as often is the case in various places in the world), and therefore maintain our ties there for at the very least the fellowship aspect of our faith. And then we would need to step up our private devotion, Scripture study, and the like. I think it's a good method no matter what, because ultimately, our personal relationship with Jesus is up to us as individuals, not the church we belong to.
1. I feel torn between wanting to stay and quite frankly go on with life as planned before I realized what had been going on for decades, and wanting to disassociate myself with a church that no longer sounds like it's living up to its promises.
2. I have realized that I have idolized my denominational affiliation over my relationship with Christ. My current parish family has been amazing in slowly but surely helping me work on what's important - namely my relationship with Jesus, but this has not been my Catholic experience prior to this parish.
3. I am going back to the Scriptures, weighing the interpretations of different denominations, and really questioning some of the unique aspects of Catholicism. Jesus's Real Presence in the Eucharist is chief among these. It seems that faithful Catholics who are not considering leaving the church simply refer to Jesus' Real Presence and say with resignation, "where else could we go?" But as I've found out, this is a misleading question, because several other denominations believe in some version of a literal interpretation of John 6's Discourse of the Bread of Life.
4. Which brings me to my next thought - is it Jesus's Real Presence in the Eucharist that I want to continue to have access to in my church community? Do I really believe that I cannot follow Christ, cannot have a relationship with Him, cannot do His will, unless I receiving Him in Holy Communion? (The answer is a resounding no, underlined actually by a statistic I learned from today's homily. Apparently only 6% of Catholics believe that sharing the gospel is a priority. Um, what are we doing in church then people? Are we not listening at all at the end of Mass when we are sent out to do just that?) Are we looking at weighing the reality of our Eucharistic Lord against having a vivid and real relationship with our Savior? Is it an either-or situation? Certainly, there is room for both, but in my experience, having Jesus physically yet mysteriously present in the Eucharist has set up boundaries around Him. It has limited where I turn to find Him. It has encouraged a private devotion with zero interest in sharing Him with others.
5. Is my desire to remain Catholic a holdover from simply what is familiar? And if so, is that in itself so bad? Well, I don't think so, with one big caveat: If I stay, I nonetheless have to do something. What, I don't know yet, but something. If I stay and do nothing, then yes, I am condoning the scandal and the cover-up. And I am not OK with that.
6. And if access to our Eucharistic Lord is a hindrance to a living relationship with Christ, am I then obligated to distance myself from this one manifestation of Jesus in order to better find Him elsewhere? Because regardless, ultimately I am to share Christ. Which brings me to a good resting point. This week I start the Sharing Christ series, the third and final installment of an intentional discipleship series I've been participating in. Perhaps there I can get some clarity.
Practical reasons why I need to commit - and soon - to stay or go, in no particular order:
1. Choice of homeschooling history curriculum spine. Do I want the Catholic-friendly Story of Civilization, or the Protestant (and hence at times anti-Catholic) Story of the World?
2. Do we prepare our children for their first Reconciliation and Communion in a few years as planned?
3. Do we change how we talk about God to our children?
4. Do we change how we pray? What we pray?
5. Do we embark on a dual denominational period during which we start exposing our kids to a church community that isn't centered on the Eucharist?
I think the best thing for me to do right now is to pretend there is no other church to which we can belong (as often is the case in various places in the world), and therefore maintain our ties there for at the very least the fellowship aspect of our faith. And then we would need to step up our private devotion, Scripture study, and the like. I think it's a good method no matter what, because ultimately, our personal relationship with Jesus is up to us as individuals, not the church we belong to.
Thursday, September 6, 2018
Scandal and Fallout
So I have been living under a rock. I mean, I "knew" about the previous sex abuse scandal in the Catholic church, but I never took any time to learn any details about it. As recently as last month, I assured fellow Catholics that no one threatens to leave the country when scandal breaks out at the White House or among the police, because we know the country is built on something greater than the individuals that disappoint us. I didn't think it was any different with church membership. But you know what, that's a little like comparing apples and oranges. It's nowhere near as feasible for most people to migrate to a foreign country as it is for them to choose a different church to go to.
I also engaged in a little bit of "blame the victim" mentality, or rather, blame the victims' parents. I thought - where were the parents of the kids being abused? Why did they trust clergy to be alone with their children? I've never been an altar server, nor have I ever attended vacation bible school. I didn't meet many priests personally until recently. So this is foreign territory for me. But my daughter has now experienced her first vacation bible school. I remember writing in my first letter to her that I support whatever path she may follow in life, consecrated religious life included. I thought about the possibility of my son being a priest someday since before I had confirmation that I was pregnant with him. Today, I have to say that I would be very cautious about the idea, and I don't know that I'll actively encourage my kids to discern this possibility anymore.
And in a much more pressing, immediate scenario... Confession. We may need to seek out the old screened confessional booths again to maintain some level of security and safety. I love and trust our current pastor, but the sad truth is that these clerical criminals have tainted the reputation of all the clergy. Their victims and their victims' parents also trusted them. So my feelings of trust are no consolation anymore.
It is a sad day when I feel I have to take it upon myself to put into effect safety mechanisms to protect my family from the leaders of my church. It shouldn't be like that. The church is not supposed to be just another secular organization. Yet, I don't see how I can see it as anything other than anymore.
Jesus said to Peter in Matthew 16:18 "upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades will not overpower it." So I'm left with a few thoughts on this. One - I believe that Jesus meant to establish a church based on the leadership of Peter. Two - I believe Satan has been attacking Christ's church and this is a renewed effort. Three - I don't believe Jesus started an organization, so I don't think it is necessary to think of His Church in terms of a hierarchy. I believe it is more appropriate to think of the fellowship of all believers as Christ's church. I don't feel bound by loyalty to the Pope anymore. The Pope has failed me. He has failed his calling to lead his flock. But his failure does not negate the value of the church. I just have to reassess how I define "church".
But there's a much bigger obstacle to my "leaving" Catholicism. Ironically, it's an obstacle many converts to Catholicism struggle with before finally embracing the faith: the Eucharist. But there is no denying Christ's words in the 6th chapter of the gospel of John, verses 35-66. I'm finding myself on a mission of interpretation. Because let's be honest. If I were to not believe in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, then I would see no reason to remain a Catholic.
The current scandal is merely forcing the issue because I'm having a hard time believing in anything - having faith in anything - coming from the same hierarchy that has shown itself to be completely unconcerned with its mission and calling. If they don't take their position seriously, how can we, the laity?
I also engaged in a little bit of "blame the victim" mentality, or rather, blame the victims' parents. I thought - where were the parents of the kids being abused? Why did they trust clergy to be alone with their children? I've never been an altar server, nor have I ever attended vacation bible school. I didn't meet many priests personally until recently. So this is foreign territory for me. But my daughter has now experienced her first vacation bible school. I remember writing in my first letter to her that I support whatever path she may follow in life, consecrated religious life included. I thought about the possibility of my son being a priest someday since before I had confirmation that I was pregnant with him. Today, I have to say that I would be very cautious about the idea, and I don't know that I'll actively encourage my kids to discern this possibility anymore.
And in a much more pressing, immediate scenario... Confession. We may need to seek out the old screened confessional booths again to maintain some level of security and safety. I love and trust our current pastor, but the sad truth is that these clerical criminals have tainted the reputation of all the clergy. Their victims and their victims' parents also trusted them. So my feelings of trust are no consolation anymore.
It is a sad day when I feel I have to take it upon myself to put into effect safety mechanisms to protect my family from the leaders of my church. It shouldn't be like that. The church is not supposed to be just another secular organization. Yet, I don't see how I can see it as anything other than anymore.
Jesus said to Peter in Matthew 16:18 "upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades will not overpower it." So I'm left with a few thoughts on this. One - I believe that Jesus meant to establish a church based on the leadership of Peter. Two - I believe Satan has been attacking Christ's church and this is a renewed effort. Three - I don't believe Jesus started an organization, so I don't think it is necessary to think of His Church in terms of a hierarchy. I believe it is more appropriate to think of the fellowship of all believers as Christ's church. I don't feel bound by loyalty to the Pope anymore. The Pope has failed me. He has failed his calling to lead his flock. But his failure does not negate the value of the church. I just have to reassess how I define "church".
But there's a much bigger obstacle to my "leaving" Catholicism. Ironically, it's an obstacle many converts to Catholicism struggle with before finally embracing the faith: the Eucharist. But there is no denying Christ's words in the 6th chapter of the gospel of John, verses 35-66. I'm finding myself on a mission of interpretation. Because let's be honest. If I were to not believe in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, then I would see no reason to remain a Catholic.
The current scandal is merely forcing the issue because I'm having a hard time believing in anything - having faith in anything - coming from the same hierarchy that has shown itself to be completely unconcerned with its mission and calling. If they don't take their position seriously, how can we, the laity?
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