Would I be bothered if Jesus didn’t really exist?

I was recently asked the following question in response to one of my recent posts:

THE QUESTION:

“Does it bother you that there is very little evidence that Jesus existed at all? It is quite possible historically he did not, as there are no Roman execution records or contemporary writings confirming his existence. I exclude the Gospels as they appear later sometime after 75 AD… I find the New Testament to be a poor moral compass and that rational thought and reason serve as better tools to solve moral dilemmas.”

MY RESPONSE:

First, I don’t base my moral judgments on what the Bible says. I, too, find many (but not all) of the moral recommendations found therein to be outdated and less than helpful. I see the Bible primarily as a resource, not a revelation. I have often said, the Bible tells me more about the humans who wrote it than the “God” it describes.

Secondly, I have considered the possibility that a historical Jesus may have never existed and, I’d like to think that, at this point in my life, my admiration of the character of Jesus would not be too disturbed should that be the case. I would still admire the wisdom to be found in the Jesus stories- even if most (if not all) of them are largely legendary or fictional. In fact, part of me thinks that the actual, factual truth of what Jesus may have said or done is a mystery forever lost in antiquity. It seems that all we can do, at this point, is to investigate the available evidence from reliable sources and speculate endlessly about the rest.

However, I am of the opinion that the Jesus stories are based on some historical figure, even if they are symbolic legends or polemical documents designed to communicate a certain community’s beliefs, values and concerns. I feel the same way about allegedly historical figures like Socrates, Moses, Lao Tzu, Confucius and Siddhartha Gautama. I suspect that historical versions of these individuals existed only to be “deified” over the centuries as stories were told (and retold) by their followers and admirers.

Can we really know for certain as to what any of these individuals have either said or done, considering that it is very likely that none of them ever wrote down or recorded any of their teachings? And, if they did write anything down, can we really be sure that those documents weren’t misplaced or amended by later generations?

I don’t place a lot of faith in the accuracy of human memory, and I have absolutely no confidence in the idea that there are such things as objective, disinterested historians or storytellers. In my view, when it comes to human beings: nobody is neutral.

I have jokingly predicted amongst my friends that, in the centuries to come, historical figures like Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King Jr. and Mohandas Gandhi will become deified in very much the same way.

Ultimately, I think our responses to history and legend will depend heavily on our own personal experiences, available information, cultural contexts and individual trust levels. Even when equipped with the same facts, we all seem to come to different conclusions as to how to interpret the information.

All we can do is make the best use our analytical tools, rational faculties, proven methods and our better judgment in order to discern reliable and meaningful information from errors and falsehoods.

Using Jesus as a Guiding Model

In contemplating the most accurate way to describe my own religious affiliation (should I be asked by fellow churchgoers), I have given long thought to one my good friend's approaches of responding according to the primary religious model and/or framework that has shaped one's outlook on life; which for us is the person of Jesus.

I was reminded of this approach after my friend refered me to Malcolm Dalglish’s hymn “Paradise” where Jesus is imaged as the “flame that lights the way.” I could really relate to my friend's reflection that- even if he doesn’t believe in certain Christian doctrines- there are still those aspects of Jesus' "life, teaching, example, and person” that serve as “the light by which (we) discern things.”

I totally agree.

Although I think Jesus went way too far in some of the things he was believed to have said and despite the fact that I have serious intellectual difficulty in (1) embracing his ideas about otherworldly matters, (2) accepting the authority he seems to assume for himself and (3) believing the Gospel’s miracle stories as historical facts, I still admire Jesus greatly and find wisdom in his approach to life, humility, conflict-resolution, service and ethics. As I have said before, I blame his Good Samaritan story for making me a humanist!

All that to say, I cannot deny that my personal outlook on life has been profoundly shaped by the one they called Jesus.

I consider myself to be an "admirer of Jesus." It seems too dishonest for me to say I am a “follower of Jesus” considering that- in the most literal sense- I have not done what those characters in the Gospels who actually followed Jesus were asked to do; I’d dare say that few of us who confidently claim allegiance to Jesus' way us have actually gone that far with it. I suspect that those of us who attend Christian churches have fashioned an easier, more formulaic, less-demanding and distorted form of Jesus’ gospel in order to make us feel better about failing to actually emulate his example.

Even though I’m pretty far along in my discarding of traditional Christian dogma, I do take the idea of following Jesus seriously and wish more people allowed themselves room to really “count the cost” and consider the implications of such a major commitment.In light of this, I try to use the life of Jesus (primarily based on my reading of the Synoptic Gospels) as a guiding model and hermeneutic to discern his interests and priorities from those of the early Church. I, like many others who have pursued this line of thought, think there is a profound difference in the two.

Before I realized how unoriginal this notion was, I had long wondered: Why does the Jesus who preached the "Sermon on the Mount" seem so far removed from the emphasized teachings and practices of the contemporary Christian church? Why was the Sermon on the Mount’s “almost-humanistic” Jesus (so practical and so human) seem so different from the ethereal and cosmic character of The Savior Christ that millions of individuals worship and call upon? Why do I gravitate to the former figure while so many gravitate to the latter?

How refreshing it would be if my Christian brothers and sisters could at least admit that many of our contemporary churches tend to emphasize and demand conformity in things that Jesus didn’t seem to stress about (i.e., the great commission to “go ye therefore”, public prayer, adherence to notions of biblical inerrancy, papal infallibility, advancing pro-Christian political agendas, condemning homosexuality, creationism, intimidating non-Christians and “sinners” with the threat of hell, the idea that one’s salvation is contingent upon one’s acceptance of certain doctrines, etc.) whereas Jesus himself seemed to stress a lot of things that many of our more dogmatic evangelical churches seem to downplay (i.e., the great commandment to “love God and neighbor”, loving and praying for one’s enemies, selling all possessions and giving to the poor, being non-violent, being merciful, forbidding divorce, praying only in private, being service-minded, turning the other cheek, intimidating the apathetic religious hypocrites of his day with the threat of hell, and the idea that one’s salvation is contingent upon one’s compassionate behavior/willingness to forgive others, etc.).

How I wish I could get more of my Christian friends to at least agree with me on that point!I also can’t help but notice how many “bible-believing churches” base their beliefs and faith claims on things that Jesus was likely to have never said (for example, the material found primarily in the Gospel of John and the New Testament letters).

Though I am visiting, I refuse to ever join a church that seeks to teach me how to frame the world into an “us-versus-them” of believers and “hell-bound” non-believers; that teaches young children to reject the most credible scientific insights; that teaches members how to suppress the faculty of reason; and who actively pressure children and adults into professing “a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Savior.”

I say that is only one understanding of the gospel, and- thank goodness- not the only way.

Where are the fellowships that focus more on teaching congregants how to cultivate the fortitude to forgive others “seventy times seven;” how to develop the maturity and contentment needed to part ways with self-absorption and mindless consumerism; how to use what you have to serve those who are in need; how to regularly escape to quiet, secluded places to pray mindfully; how to empathize with the outcasts, orphans and widows; and how to evangelize without words by extending merciful “Samaritan” hands to those of different cultures, beliefs and traditions?

Does one have to become a Buddhist or a mystic in order to engage in spiritual practices that would help them to live closer to the way of Jesus?

Coming Out as an Agnostic (pt. 3): The Disappointment

Click here for Part 3 of my "Coming Out as an Agnostic" series.

Coming Out as an Agnostic (Pt. 2): Opening Up Slowly

ACT I

Scene 2:
In the car, on the way to work on a chilly morning, 9:07 a.m.
A discussion from the previous night is revisited during an in-depth telephone conversation between a devout Christian wife and her secretly agnostic husband. The husband calls the wife on her phone after dropping their child off at their daycare provider’s house.

HUSBAND:
“Houston, we have ‘drop-off’.”

WIFE:
“Cool. How did she do?”

HUSBAND:
“She did good. She was a little clingy at first, but once she saw all her friends she was fine.”

WIFE:
“Good. Good...[pause]
You on your way to work now?”

HUSBAND:
“Yeah, I’m about 15 minutes away… [pause]
By the way…Did we really have that conversation last night or did I dream that?”

WIFE:
“Conversation about what?”

HUSBAND:
“I don’t know…something about my iPhone and me not reading the Bible anymore?”

WIFE:
[Giggling]
“Oh yeah…Yes, that was real. That wasn’t a dream.”

HUSBAND:
[Laughing] “Okay. I was about to say... [Regains composure]
Well, I just want you to know that just because I don’t read the Bible like I used to it doesn’t mean that I don’t think about all the time.”

WIFE:
“Really?”

HUSBAND:
“Yeah. I actually have plenty of verses, passages and stories from the Bible that float through my head on a daily basis. I think about them and reflect on ‘em pretty often.”

WIFE:
“For real? I didn’t know that.”

HUSBAND:
“Yeah. I mean….You know I always liked reading the gospel stories about Jesus and his parables. Those are real simple, short stories anyway and the type that you don’t necessarily need to read over and over in order to think deeply about them. I find a lot of wisdom in those stories and, in many ways, their insights still direct me. Some of those stories stick with you...so it’s not like I’ve forgotten them.”

WIFE:
“Oh, okay. That’s good to hear.”

HUSBAND:
“And I’m definitely not an atheist.”

WIFE:
[Pauses before responding]
“Hold on for a second...Hey, I forgot…
I’ve got my mom on the other line.”

HUSBAND:
“Oh? Well, can you tell her you’ll call her back?...This is getting good.”

WIFE:
“Okay, I will. Hold on.”

[insert 15 second pause]

WIFE:
[clicks back over]
“Okay, I’m back...Now, what were you saying?”

HUSBAND:
“Is your mom okay?”

WIFE:
“Yeah, she’s dealing with some serious stuff too. But we can keep talking.”

HUSBAND:
“Cool.”

WIFE:
“Now, back to what you were saying.”

HUSBAND:
“I was just saying that you don’t have to worry. I’m not an atheist…
Being an atheist is too much of an exclamation point for me. I’m more of a…I don’t know…I guess you could say I’m more of a question mark. I’ve got questions about everything. That’s why you tease me for being so nerdy because you always see me reading books, encyclopedias and magazine articles about all kinds of subjects. That’s why my bookshelf is loaded with books on topics like science, mythology, psychology, evolution, history and religion. I’m interested in all of these things.”

WIFE:
“Such a nerd.”

HUSBAND:
[Laughing]
“Well, I’m just exploring all of these topics because I’m trying hard to find out what’s really true and also because- even though I respect them- I just don’t trust a lot of what people say about God and the Bible. I guess I mainly struggle with how and why different people interpret and understand the Bible the way they do. You know what I mean?”

WIFE:
“I feel you.”

HUSBAND:
“I also wonder why different people focus on different aspects of what the Bible says...It’s actually kinda funny when you think about how some of the same people who say they ‘live by the book’ still manage to be pretty selective about which parts of the book they want to apply to their lives. I mean...lots of people stress the part where Jesus says ‘I’m the way, the truth, the life’ but you don't find a lot of people who take Jesus' words that seriously when he says something like ‘sell your possessions and give to the poor.’”

WIFE:
[Laughing]
"Right!”

HUSBAND:
“I mean...Don't get me wrong. We all do it. We each have our favorite parts that mean more to us than others. I know I do...If I had my choice, I’d much rather read the parables of Jesus while some others would rather spend time reading the letters of Paul. It just depends on the person, you know?”

WIFE:
“True, true.”

HUSBAND:
“And- unlike the people living in biblical times- nowadays, we have access to all kinds of writings from cultures all over the world: Native American...Middle Eastern...Asian...African...These writings show how different cultures throughout history understood the world and how they tried to explain those things to their people...Most of them even have their own creation stories and mythologies that they were raised with- just like how many of us were raised with the Bible’s creation story of Adam and Eve.”

WIFE:
“Oh, okay.”

HUSBAND:
“But I also struggle with what people say about God. I mean…you ever notice how many people talk about “God told me this” or “God called me to do that?”

WIFE:
“Yeah. Lots of people say stuff like that. It's kinda like those terrorists who blow up themselves and other people because they believe God told them to to do that. I'm like, ‘Is God telling you to do that or are you doing what you want to do and just saying that you are doing it in God’s name?’”

HUSBAND:
“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been saying! How do you know what’s true unless you investigate? And you hear people say things like this all the time. Pastors- both the liberal and conservative ones- say things like ‘God likes this’ or ‘God wants that’ all the time. I just sit there and think to myself, ‘Really? How do you know?’ That's why I got tired of the pastors at our old church always introducing preachers by asking, 'What word from the Lord do you have for us today?' I've talked with pastors who say that 'The Holy Spirit' gives them their sermon ideas- like they're not just sharing their own opinions on a subject. They give you their opinions on politics or on what the Bible says and then say that what they think is what God thinks? You mean to tell me that their personality is not going to come out in the sermon? C'mon. Seriously?"

WIFE:
“I know what you mean.”

[End of Scene 2]

[Sensing an empathetic ear, the husband begins to feel pretty good about the overall relationship with his wife, especially in regards to their communication about religious matters. He wants to continue to open up and share even more about his personal views. And while he doesn't want to jump to conclusions, he is beginning to wonder if his Christian wife may actually have a secret to share with him as well.]

To be continued...

Demons...Really?

Have you ever heard bizarre, nonhuman screams coming from the other room? Have you ever had that eerie feeling in the waking hours where your mind is alert but a heavy pressure on your body prevents you from moving? Have you ever felt a haunting presence closing in on you under the cloak of night? Have you ever done something “sinful” in the privacy of your bedroom only to wake up the next morning to a prayerful parent telling you that they sensed a fierce clash between angels and demons was taking place somewhere in the house the night before?

If you have, I’d love to hear more details about your experience.
But if you haven’t, you are not alone.

I haven’t either.

However, I know many who have had such experiences and the sincere conviction in which they retell their accounts leaves me to wonder.

Just last week, I went to hang out and catch up with a small group of my Christian friends. My friends are complex individuals with memories full of profound experiences who would describe themselves as Bible-believing, orthodox Christian, conservative evangelicals. They are committed creationists and faithful servants to their understanding of God and the Bible. They are compassionate and thoughtful individuals who are skeptical toward the views of nonbelievers, mystics, New-Age types, self-help authors, right-wing fundamentalists, cults, liberals, televangelists, mega-church leaders who advance “the prosperity gospel” and all who accept the theory of evolution. And there was a time, not long ago, when I would describe myself in similar terms.

Over the past seven years, many of us have grown close by working on service projects together. We have participated in each others’ development into dependable friends, mature husbands and responsible fathers.

But over the years, some of us began to depart from the majority opinion and pursue more unorthodox pathways of fulfillment. I don’t think any of us were surprised by this. Even in our early bible study conversations years ago, one could hear subtle hints indicating that some of us thought about God and life’s purpose just a little differently than the rest of the group. These differences would only become more pronounced over time.

During our most recent gathering together, we joked around for an hour or so about random topics such as local job cuts, our kids, the Obama administration and the latest entertainment news. But as the evening progressed, the discussion topics became far more serious as some of my friends began to share stories about their encounters with—of all things—demons.

It began with one person’s off-handed joke about demon possession until, soon, everyone in the room, one-by-one, began chiming in with stories of their own encounters with what they believed to be demonic forces.

It was as if a line was being drawn in the sand and I found myself on the other side of it. Like an outside observer, I watched as my friends reaffirmed their fellowship with similar experiences. As the stories were told, I heard phrases like, “You too!” and “Yeah, that’s the worst.”

The situation was awkward and I couldn’t help but to be cynical; silently questioning both their judgment and my own. How ironic was it that these individuals who sat before me sharing their personal encounters with demonic forces also happen to skeptical and distrusting of the scientific method? How ironic was it that these individuals who believe in demons also told me that they cannot accept evolution with any confidence because it leaves too much unexplained? Functioning with their assumptions about reality, I’d think some invisible and benevolent force controlled my sudden urge to fire off a witty and obnoxious remark pointing out the obvious, double standard here.

I couldn’t believe we were having this discussion. But I listened.

When someone tells me about a demonic encounter they have experienced my first reaction is to place that person firmly in the crazy category. But part of me neither wants to dismiss their stories nor the conviction in which they tell them because they may be indicative of a deeper, psychological reality to which I should pay close attention. Of course, this is an area beyond my expertise and again I am left only to wonder and ask questions.

I struggle with the fact that the Bible has plenty of stories similar to the ones my friends shared that night as its pages frequently describe a supernatural, otherworldly realm beyond sensory comprehension. The noble and appealing character of Jesus is easy to embrace when you focus primarily on his paradigm-challenging command to love one's enemies and his creative parables about the prodigal son, the persistent widow and the Good Samaritan.

But the New Testament doesn’t stop there. It seems to me that in order to embrace this Jesus—according to the New Testament—one must also profess belief in a strange, spirit world where angelic and demonic forces wage a constant and invisible war for the eternal souls of human beings. To embrace this Jesus—according to many biblical texts—it seems that one must also accept the ideas that demons can possess human beings; that certain individuals can wield miraculous powers and perform miracles that defy the laws of gravity and physics; and that a personal God exists and is capable to speaking to and through selected prophets.

When I read what the gospels say about Jesus of Nazareth, I find an inspiring figure that said and did many admirable things throughout his final years. But if I am required to believe and defend far-fetched ideas and speculations about a spiritual realm in order to follow the way of Jesus, then Christianity is a pill that I cannot swallow.

At this point in my life, I don’t believe in a Devil, Satan, demons, evil spirits, or any sort of personalized beings of incarnated evil. However, I do believe that humanity has a dark side; a selfish part of us that desires to satiate our unbridled appetites without considering the needs of others; a dangerous part of us inclined to hate out of ignorance and to kill out of fear; a susceptible part of us easily possessed by the spirits of indifference and apathy. And as mysterious as human evil is, I suspect this dark side of our existence has a biological and naturalistic explanation instead of a supernatural one. I suspect we can find more explanation for the origins of this dark side in the reptilian remnants of our brains than we can find in the tempting suggestions of a mythological serpent.

I find enough in the natural world to be afraid of than for me to occupy time and energy worrying about realms unknown, unseen and—dare I say—imaginary. I have more fear that a stray bullet will interrupt my earthly existence than that any demon would ever attack, influence or possess me.

Interestingly, some would posit one of those circular, conversation-ending arguments claiming that someone who doesn’t believe in demons is not able to believe because they are already under a demonic influence. I have no patience for that kind of exchange.

You can call it what you want, label me however and rely on whichever authority you find trustworthy in this dynamic and ever-changing thing called life. I’m going to try to make sense out of this the only way I know how: by continuing to ask the questions and pursuing explanations to the mysteries.

Movie Review: Bill Maher's "Religulous"

I found Religulous to be funny and entertaining for what it is: an audio-visual package explaining Bill Maher’s views and opinions about the absurd and dangerous aspects of religion in general, giving a special focus on a handful of religious sects such as Christianity (specifically Western Christianity), Mormonism, Islam, Judaism and Scientology. During the course of the film, he also explores Egyptian folklore, Mesopotamian mythology, Creationism and interesting parallels between many of history’s mythological and historical figures. The film provides on-screen scripture references and attributions for the various experts with whom he engages (which is very helpful for follow-up and fact-checking).

I thought it was interesting though, that with a few choice exceptions, Maher tends to overlook the more moderate and mainline expressions of popular belief systems and spends most of his time examining and interrogating those who hold more radical (dare to even say “extremist”) religious views. In a way, many of his interactions seemed like Jay Leno’s “man on the street” interviews with people (who, but for a few exceptions, embarrassed themselves). With his sharp wit and comedic talent, Maher is successful in exposing some of the clumsy ways that educated and less-educated people rationalize their particular religious views and explain away inconsistencies.

However, one should maintain a high level of skepticism knowing that the filmmakers and editors can also manipulate footage (with the tools of dramatic music, sudden splices, and abrupt cutaways) to distort the exchanges between Maher and his subjects so that Maher appears to be the victor (Note: I also noticed that the makers of Expelled, a recent documentary starring Ben Stein that advocated for the cause of Intelligent Design, employed many- if not all- of the same techniques- i.e., subjects not being fully aware of the kind of film being made, including sudden splices of provocative images over the opponents explanations, dramatic or satirical music choices being played beneath the opponents words, etc.).

No doubt, some folks made their ignorance obvious and didn’t need “Hollywood magic” to make them look bad, but I do think there were some examples where Maher was clearly unfair in presenting the other points of view. The medium of film can convey a point, but due to such techniques, it’s hard to convert those who aren’t already convinced. I also found Maher to be somewhat deceptive in assuming the role of a doubtful and humble agnostic in the beginning of the film and then inserting his bold, unquestioning sermonettes and assertions about what he believes about reality towards the end.

But, despite his presentation (which often comes off as abrasive and antagonistic), I admire Maher’s courage and believe that he brings up some serious issues for believers and non-believers to take to heart- and I hope that many would accept that challenge. Maher challenges people- especially believers who are willing and able to look past Maher’s offensive presentation- to ask themselves: What are the moral, political and ethical implications of our belief systems? What defenses and rationalizations no longer make sense? What do our doctrines say about the “God” we claim to worship? In what ways do we apply double standards to our own belief systems? What elements do we critique/ridicule in other belief systems that we seem to accept in our own? What aspects of our faith merit significant reappraisal?

These, I think, are the enduring questions that should not be avoided.

While I think a public forum or a panel would have had more potential to display more integrity and provide a more fruitful discussion, there is still something to be said for the power of film. I think Religulous is a film that is worth seeing and discussing all in the hopes that such discussion will help us to prune outdated and hollow rationalizations from our most cherished beliefs and to look closely at our own ideas and consider how ridiculous they may sound to others who do not share them. In an odd way, such films challenge both the skeptic and the believer.

Feeling trapped, yearning for freedom

I’m depressed. I feel trapped between two worlds- the natural one I see with my eyes and the invisible realm that believers put their faith in. I see the suffering in the former, but I'm told to be concerned most about the latter. I feel stuck and confused at a crossroads where so many paths seem inviting, but I remain fearful. I’m afraid to commit to those adventures and callings which beckon me to come near because, while they may provide me with meaningful avenues through which I can express my sincere convictions, I suspect they will take me even farther from those I know, love and cherish. But I also realize that my procrastination does not help anyone.

I'm living a dual existence: the hidden one where I express my true thoughts in a psychological exile of anonymity and the public one where I amiably pretend to believe what I now consider incredible. I’m torn. Mainly because I don’t want anyone to suffer- especially because of something I’ve said, done, neglected to do or refused to accept as true. I feel a burning and all-consuming anxiety over what I imagine to be an oncoming and inevitable source of conflict- knowing that a decision must be made soon. I understand that my elusive ambiguity serves only to frustrate and destabilize those closest to me. Yet I am afraid to commit. When I do commit, I fear rejection. I fear rejection, knowing it is the price of speaking honestly and living proactively.

How can one be honest and not be, in some way, agnostic and uncertain about ultimate matters like "God" and eternity? How can we know anything for sure? Why do we seem to prefer comforting and illusory speculations instead of embracing painful and observable facts? I began my journey searching for a more perfect understanding of the ultimate; a trustworthy method to make sure that I was devoting my life and energy to something credible, powerful and real. In the process, I have learned just how deceptive the human mind can be- especially my own. Realizing my own tendency to fool myself makes me suspicious off all others with the capacity to think. Above all, I do not want to delude myself or anyone else.

But no matter how much I try to separate facts from falsehood my humanity seems to get in the way. Seemingly cursed, I feverishly examine endless articles, rabbit-eared books and online resources as I hunt for satisfying answers to enlighten my mind, shed my prejudices, confirm my intuitions and validate the expense of my journey. But I am constantly reminded that my cognitive capacity has limits and I can’t know it all. I just can’t remember everything I come across in my studies. Like heat, the profound insights of underappreciated authors evaporate and become forgotten memories. My prayer is that I can retain what I need for the times when I will need it. That I will be flexible enough to deal with whatever challenges I encounter.

But, despite my limitations, I am left with reality: issues that I have delayed addressing; painful discussions that I try my best to evade; real people whose lives and destinies are intertwined with my own and which are affected by my choices. I try to manage the complexity as gently and as skillfully as I know how. Elusive humor is helpful in cloaking to my honest thoughts. But at some point the uncomfortable laughter needs to stop.

I know that no one is safe from suffering and I have learned to appreciate the small joys of living and to be content and mindful of our mortality. Sadly, I have only grasped this while I have put off dealing with the old burdens that continue to haunt my waking moments.

I don’t fear an apocalyptic end to this life. Instead, I am horrified by the idea that my final breath will escape my body and leave behind a gross misrepresentation of my authentic self before I can summon the nerve to boldly share with all the full view of my soul and thought. I am equally horrified by the notion that expressing my true opinions will disappoint those I adore. This is amplified by the incessant fear that should I decide to publicize my unpopular opinions they may one day prove to be wrong and misguided and I will have done irrevocable damage to minds and hearts.

But this is the risk we must take as fallible beings.

Heaven is no consolation for living a lie. I admire all who have had the courage to come out publicly as their true selves. My heroes are those who refuse to masquerade in forms that cater to the preferences of others. I do not want to die like those considerate and cowardly Enlightenment-era parish priests who masqueraded as defenders of orthodoxy while leaving behind secret diaries confessing their heretical opinions. I want to be known and remembered for who I truly am. Not as a label, but as a honest man.

But I hold on because I believe that freedom will come if I press towards it. Until then, I walk carefully and advance gradually- summoning the spirits of patience, sensitivity and wisdom. Praying that they guide my words and actions because this feels like the fight of my life. .

Writing helps. But only living will bring fulfillment.

Opinions in Exile

The following passage is a reflection on the Hebrew Bible's Psalm 137 written by Reverend John Nichols, a Unitarian Universalist minister and author of A Wind Swept Over the Waters: Reflections on Sixty Favorite Bible Passages (Skinner House Books, 2007). In this excerpt from his 2007 book, Nichols imagines the experience of Israel’s people as they endured being exiled as a minority in Babylon during the 6th century B.C.E. The piece also describes the difficulty of living, speaking and sharing one's unpopular convictions when they run counter to the prevailing worldviews of one's cultural surroundings. Click here to read the full passage.

Many situations make us feel that we have been exiled to a “foreign land.” We might have moved to a culture so different that it was hard to get adjusted. We may have discovered that suddenly our most cherished beliefs are so radically at odds with those of the people around us that we must keep quiet about them, or if we speak, we must be prepared to defend ourselves…

Many people live in some kind of Babylon [exile] They live where they cannot speak some thoughts without criticism. To survive in such a negative culture, it is tempting to negate our own convictions as being finally not that important. It is tempting as well to keep quiet, walking away from conversations that might expose our differences. Either temptation sacrifices something of our integrity in order to maintain relationships that will be “safe” though always slightly dishonest. One of the most important spiritual strengths we have is the ability to be honest about who we are…

Recognizing that what was at stake was nothing less than the integrity of their souls, the Jews of Babylon formed communities in which their heritage and their ethical convictions became vastly more important to them in exile than they had been before. They sought one another’s support to affirm their differences from Babylonians and to raise their children as if those differences really mattered. Because they chose community rather than safety and anonymity, their convictions survived to make a lasting impression on the world. May we all seek and find the communities we most need in the foreign lands through which we must travel.

Reflection on "My Easy God is Gone," a poem by James Kavanaugh

Yesterday evening as I drove to pick up my daughter from daycare, I was listening to a podcast that cited “My Easy God is Gone,” a confessional poem written by former Catholic priest and renowned wordsmith James Kavanaugh. Before this point, I had never heard of Kavanaugh; but as his transparent sentiments were read aloud, I found many of his lyrical phrasings resonating with my own experience of disillusionment in regards to the personal God in which I used to believe. Kavanaugh’s powerful poem takes meticulous account of what he has lost in abandoning his earlier notions of God, expresses relief for having shed his former ideas and then proceeds to celebrate the reclaiming of his own sensitive humanity.

Kavanaugh notes that he has “lost” his “easy God” and has abandoned the constrictive dogma that too often rendered his own human experiences devoid of meaning and value. Kavanaugh grieves at how the “easy God” of his childhood “took all mystery away, corroded my imagination, controlled the stars and would not let them speak for themselves.” He boldly declares that, despite his childhood indoctrination into the creeds of his faith tradition, the “maxims memorized in boyhood do not make fruitless and pointless my experience.” He proclaims, “I am a boy again - I whose boyhood was turned to manhood in a brutal myth.” Kavanaugh seems to express a relieved sigh of freedom with honest lines like, “I walk alone, but not so terrified as when He held my hand.”

Yes, like Kavanaugh, I too feel that “some fierce umbilical is broken.” As my wife and I visit different churches (both liberal and conservative), I sit through worship services and feel jarringly distant and removed from what is going on- almost like a disinterested anthropologist sent from a foreign land to study the religious experiences of my fellow human beings. Yet, though I feel removed, I remain keenly aware of my own ignorance while also being appreciative and grateful for the myriad of meaningful experiences that have formed my personality and shaped my character.

I don’t know much about James Kavanaugh, but I sought to know more about the life that created such a moving piece. Somehow I sense a kindred spirit in Kavanaugh, one that belongs to a restless explorer whose thirst for inquiry refuses to settle for pat answers and outdated explanations. I appreciate that Kavanaugh’s poetry affirms the significance of mystery, human fallibility and adaptability, the wonders of love, the regenerative power of painful experiences and the creative resourcefulness with which we humans derive meaning from it all.

Like Kavanaugh, I am still willing to consider the idea that “God” may exist as some vague force or pulsating creative power that exists beyond the human capacity to understand or explain; However, I am more convinced than ever that “God” does not exist as a personal and tribal deity who picks favorites, conveys its crucial message to a handful of ordained spokespersons and intervenes in the physical world through supernatural and miraculous means.

In the Preface to his book, Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves, Kavanaugh says:

"I will probably be a searcher until I die and hopefully death itself will only be another adventure. To live any other way seems impossible. If anything has changed over the years, and it has, I only feel more confident now about what I wrote then. I am far more aware of the power that guides each of us along the way, and provides us with the insights and people we need for our journey. There are, indeed, men and women too gentle to live among wolves and only when joined with them will life offer the searcher, step by step, all that is good and beautiful. Life becomes not a confused struggle or pointless pain, but an evolving mosaic masterpiece of the person we were destined to become."

Below is the complete version of James Kavanaugh's poem “My Easy God is Gone.”

"My Easy God is Gone"
by James Kavanaugh


I have lost my easy God –
the one whose name I knew since childhood.
I knew his temper, his sullen outrage, his ritual forgiveness.
I knew the strength of his arm,
the sound of his insistent voice.
His beard bristling, his lips full and red
with moisture at the moustache,
His eyes clear and piercing,
too blue to understand all,
His face too unwrinkled to feel my child’s pain.
He was a good God - so he told me -
a long suffering and manageable one.
I knelt at his feet and kissed them.
I felt the smooth countenance of his forgiveness.

I never told him how he frightened me,
How he followed me as a child,
When I played with friends or begged
for candy on Halloween.
He was a predictable God,
I was the unpredictable one.
He was unchanging, omnipotent, all-seeing,
I was volatile and helpless.

He taught me to thank him for the concern
which gave me no chance to breathe,
For the love which demanded only love in
return - and obedience.
He made pain sensible and patience possible
and the future foreseeable.
He, the mysterious, took all mystery away,
corroded my imagination,
Controlled the stars and would not let
them speak for themselves.

Now he haunts me seldom:
some fierce umbilical is broken,
I live with my own fragile hopes and
sudden rising despair.
Now I do not weep for my sins;
I have learned to love them.
And to know that they are the wounds that
make love real.
His face eludes me; his voice, with all
its pity, does not ring in my ear.
His maxims memorized in boyhood do not
make fruitless and pointless my experience.

I walk alone,
but not so terrified as when he held my hand.

I do not splash in the blood of his son
nor hear the crunch of nails or thorns
piercing protesting flesh.
I am a boy again - I whose boyhood was
turned to manhood in a brutal myth.
Now wine is only wine
with drops that do not taste of blood.
The bread I eat has too much pride for transubstantiation,
I, too - and together the bread and I embrace,
Each grateful to be what we are,
each loving from our own reality.
Now the bread is warm in my mouth and
I am warm in its mouth as well.

Now my easy God is gone –
he knew too much to be real,
He talked too much to listen,
he knew my words before I spoke.
But I knew his answers as well –
computerized and turned to dogma.
His stamp was on my soul, his law locked
cross-like on my heart,
His imperatives tattooed on my breast, his
aloofness canonized in ritual.

Now he is gone - my easy, stuffy God - God,
the father - master, the mother - whiner, the
dull, whoring God who offered love bought
by an infant’s fear.
Now the world is mine with all its pain and
warmth, with its every color and sound;
The setting sun is my priest with the ocean for its altar.
The rising sun redeems me with rolling
waves warmed in its arms.
A dog barks and I weep to be alive, a
cat studies me and my job is boundless.
I lie on the grass and boy-like, search the sky.
The clouds do not turn to angels, the winds
do not whisper of heaven or hell.

Perhaps I have no God - what does it matter?
I have beauty and joy and transcending loneliness,
I have the beginning of love - as beautiful as it
is feeble - as free as it is human.
I have the mountains that whisper secrets
held before men could speak,
I have the oceans that belches life on
the beach and caresses it in the sand,
I have a friend who smiles when he sees me,
who weeps when he hears my pain,
I have a future of wonder.
I have no past - the steps have disappeared
the wind has blown them away.

I stand in the heavens and on earth, I feel the breeze in my hair,
I can drink to the North Star and shout on a bar stool,
I can feel the teeth of a hangover, the joy of laziness,
The flush of my own rudeness,
the surge of my own ineptitude.
And I can know my own gentleness
as well as my wonder, my nobility.
I sense the call of creation,
I feel its swelling in my hands.
I can lust and love, eat and drink, sleep and rise,
But my easy God is gone - and in his stead
The mystery of loneliness and love!

This I Believe

Just a few ideas, thoughts and convictions that have guided me over the past few months. They are the "boiled down" insights I have gleaned from my studies and my experiences.

I have life.
Life is messy.
People are complicated.
Human beings create their own meaning.
The skies are empty.
Love is creative.
Creativity is resourceful.
Life is temporary.
Death is a reminder to live.
The future is uncertain.
The universe is mysterious.
The unknown is frightening, yet attractive.
Hope is worth having.
I have hope.

Some things that interest me (What does it all mean?)

Among other things, I consider myself to be an autodidact- a self-taught individual with many interests whose education is driven more by my own curiosity than by any particular curriculum- and realizing this has taught me volumes about who I am and how I think. But having so many interests can also be paralyzing for me when I am considering which career pursuit can best focus my attention, abilities, interests and energies. Perhaps there is a way to find a common concern at the root of my various interests.

I remember going to a thrift store that sold used books with my mother when I was a teenager. Since both of us were creative people and avid readers always in search of inspirational material and useful guidance, our eyes were drawn to a $3.00 copy of author Julia Cameron’s self-help manual The Vein of Gold: A Journey to Your Creative Heart. The book was written as a follow-up piece to Cameron’s 1992 best-seller The Artist’s Way (which my mother had already read) and, to this day, it continues to influence my ever-developing views about personality and creative expression.

In The Vein of Gold, Cameron draws upon a variety of cultures and philosophies and offers a variety of exercises for readers to try in order to help them find their “vein of gold”- that underlying concern at the root of one’s interests and pursuits. I remember one exercise encouraged the reader to think of a list of their favorite movies and consider any common themes within the films on that list which might reveal something about one's personal interests.

It was a very revealing exercise for me and one that I continue to apply to my life. I came to believe along with Cameron that many of the subjects that interest us are in some way related to our sense of purpose and personal fulfillment. For example, could there be a deeper reason as to why I am drawn to films like The Village (2004), The Island (2005) and The Matrix (1999)? These films all serve as parables describing how individuals- discontent with the prevailing beliefs of their societies which are imposed by those in power to preserve a sense of order, control and stability- manage to find strange hints that suggest that "another world" exists beyond the physical and psychological boundaries of their familiar territory and struggle to fight their way out of those confines. What does it say about me since I am drawn to films such as these?

Today, I have decided to write new list of my personal interests. Although I don’t have a more formal name for this category, these are those people, topics, themes and subjects that give me a profound sense of fulfillment and exhilaration when I study or pursue them. My goal is to add more as they come to mind and attempt to decipher what meaning there is to be drawn from this growing list.

Some things that interest me:
Radical teaching
Critical thinking
Challenging assumptions
Liberating minds
Critiquing orthodoxies
Dismantling oppressive systems
Finding hints of “another world” that exists beyond the limited confines of familiar territory
Going beyond boundaries
Writing down my thoughts
Non-violent resistance
Mark Twain
Henry David Thoreau
Life-long learning
Human potential
Truth
Interviews
Q & A's
Questions
Interconnectedness
Placebos
Biblical criticism
Ethics
Stories that humanize human beings
Paulo Friere
Matthew Fox (the exiled priest)
Hearing from neglected, suppressed, exiled and over-looked perspectives
Providing opportunities for the silenced to share their voice
Spending time with my family
Meeting new people in authentic encounters (not merely “networking”)
Meeting people of different cultures
The Wire (TV series)
V for Vendetta (film)
The Matrix (film)
The Village (film)
The Island (film)
The Color Purple (book, play and film)
Anthropology
Psychology
Carl Sagan
Equality
Fairness
Hospitality
Parables
Comparative religions
Comparative mythology
Joseph Campbell
Gil Scott Heron
Performance poetry
Ethnic cuisine
Podcasts
Fictional stories that serve as prophetic critiques of society
Martin Luther King Jr.
Alice Walker
Bono
Ralph Nader
Psychology of religious belief and practice
The implications of modern scientific discoveries on human thought and behavior
The scientific method
Myth-busting
Historical Jesus research
Skepticism
Combating dehumanization in all of its forms, images and expressions
Political art
Voltaire
Anti-imperialism
Opinion columns
Movie previews
Photo essays
Agnosticism
Understanding others and advocating for the misunderstood
Empowering others
Compassion
Creativity
Resourcefulness
Humanism
Myth (properly understood in relation to and in contrast with historical fact)
Poetry
Music
The creative process

Struggling with the assumptions of theology

I continue to struggle with 1) the whole idea that humans could possibly know the “mind”, “heart” or “will” of “God” and 2) that this supernatural “God” would intervene and reveal special messages to human beings (especially through one particular culture’s set of scriptures). As I understand it, most- if not all- forms of theology seem to be rooted in these two assumptions.

While I like the idea of using term “God” as being synonymous with “our ultimate concern” or symbolic of “that force within us that seeks truth or liberation,” my “red flags go up” when we start to personalize and give a human face to “God.”

As it relates to Liberation Theology, I’ve been wondering: Do we need a “God” to command us to treat others rightly? Has “God’s” name been utilized to invoke a compassion and justice based out of a fear of wrath or can we invoke compassion and justice through a reverence for our neighbor (which is enlightened by the scientific insight that we are all related in our biology and interconnected in this ecosystem called Earth)? Do we really need “God” to initiate responsive action toward the liberation of captives? Do we really need to be threatened by either earthly or eternal punishment or enticed with material or heavenly rewards in order to for us to be respectful, hospitable and humane towards others? I find it interesting that several other religious traditions manage to invoke compassion and make appeals for liberation without attributing it as being the willed command of a deity.

Instead of being “the revealed word of God,” could the Bible’s commands merely be those human ideas, tribal instincts and behavioral recommendations that gave Jewish and Christian cultures a sense of identity and stability in the midst of those surrounding cultures they considered “ungodly”? Here, I think of the Book of Leviticus and its repetitive commands to, “Be ye not like those people…be like this.” I also recall The Code of Hammurabi, how it was written centuries before the Hebrew Bible, how the Bible shares many of its laws, and how Hammurabi attributed the composition of his code to Marduk, the patron deity of Babylon. It’s enough to make me wonder: Is the Bible a collection of man-made commands that have been imposed by well-meaning people as being “God’s” will?

Maybe my “hermeneutics of suspicion” has been over-developed, but it seems presumptuous to suppose that the alleged creator of our expansive universe would be so wrapped up in earthly affairs that they would communicate their important and timeless message to all of humanity primarily and exclusively through the writings of a special group of Hebrew prophets and scribes who lived thousands of years ago. It’s hard for me to continue to believe that these special individuals were assigned to set forth “God’s” will in their time- for ALL time. As I’ve said before, I think the Bible is a collection of documents written for a variety of reasons by insightful, culture-bound Middle Eastern authors and that its interpretation is based on what some insightful humans throughout history have found in its pages to be meaningful, important and relevant for their own lives.

I’m willing to grant that there may be some transcendent, mystical dimension to life, but my doubts lead me to suspect that most- if not all- alleged mystical experiences could be accounted for with a naturalistic explanation of the brain’s neurobiological activities. While there “may” be some transcendent dimension, I doubt we human beings can be so secure in our certainty that such a dimension exists and that any of us can understand it.

It seems to me that “God” is a symbolic term that we humans often use to describe those aspects of reality which lay beyond our current understanding. If we don’t understand something, we often attribute it to “God.” How and why did I wake up this morning? I don’t know. It must be God. How was my daughter formed in the womb? I don’t know. It must be God. Why was I born into relative ease and privilege? I don’t know. Must be God. Why didn’t that tornado tear through my household as it did so many others? I don’t know. Again, it must be God.

For centuries, the natural sciences have been progressively chipping away at those things we formerly attributed to “God.” Astronomy, biology, physics, neurobiology and meteorology are just a few examples of fields that have made tremendous progress in explaining those things formerly beyond our capacity to comprehend. For thousands of years, cultures believed that “God” controlled the weather and that the weather was a reflection of either “God’s” favor or outrage. Now, I’d dare say, we know better.

At bottom- and at this point in my life- I think we attribute far too much of our perceived reality to the notion of “God.” I get suspicious of any and all who claim to know what this “God” wants- especially if it seems to mirror their own hopes, fears, desires and concerns.

The need to revisit my personal credo

I am an explorer. I am one of those people who enjoys the “thoughtful consideration” of new possibilities, insights and potential truths as I try not to be too quick to discount the validity of an idea. This personality trait (in addition to my skepticism) doesn’t earn me a lot of fans in the circles of dogmatic individuals who seek to enforce doctrinal and ideological conformity. In most cases, it makes me a threat. But in my view, questions considered to be "threatening" often serve as invitations to a closer examination of both ourselves and our surroundings.

I have grown convinced that many contemporary scientific and philosophical insights about reality have rendered more traditional ways of thinking both irrelevant and obsolete. Therefore, I am primarily interested in researching and finding new ways to holistically integrate scientific insights and the complexities of reality with the insights of the world’s religious and non-religious traditions and philosophies in order to create a more meaningful, relevant, credible and practical ethic of life. This pursuit has consumed much of my time, energy and attention over the past few years.

But at this point in my life, I feel a growing need to clarify my personal views for both myself and those close to me. Knowing myself, I tend to leave people “in the dark” in regards to how I think about and connect various ideas (especially the more “radical” ones). Ironically, I work in the communications field but I find that I often under-communicate with those close to me and get frustrated when these same individuals don’t understand me. I haven’t been the clearest communicator with those whom I have personal relationships- especially when the topic is a “high-stake” issue like belief. But by neglecting to organize my thoughts I have found that it is possible to hold an intellectual position so long that you can forget the core reasons as to why you accepted and adopted such a viewpoint in the first place. It’s not that I have totally forgotten how I arrived at certain viewpoints, but if I were asked to explain “where I come down” at a moment’s notice, my reply would likely come out more nebulous than clear.

In such instances, I think it’s beneficial to regularly reexamine one’s views so that one can better articulate them when it is necessary. This is not easy. Admittedly, I have developed both mental and psychological fatigue in the process of assembling the “puzzle pieces” of my research. It seems that as soon as I add new a component, I forget an older one. The complexity of the task continues to overwhelm me as I have been going about it in a very disorganized and “scatter-brained” way.

Therefore, I have recently decided to organize my efforts so that I can be more effective and efficient. First, I will begin organizing my findings and reflections into compartmentalized folders. In these folders I will save pertinent materials (quotes, passages, statistics, findings, etc.) for quick reference. Second, I will then break my project down into smaller, more manageable bites where I will write several in-depth pieces exploring the systematic framing of my personal theological/philosophical/ethical outlook. I know organization is an elementary idea for some folks, but it is a revolutionary concept for me.

In the coming weeks, I will explore my personal philosophies about prayer, God, Jesus, the Bible, divine revelation, salvation, sin, supernaturalism, miracles, suffering, and evil. I will do so with the understanding that, in traditional Christianity, many of these issues are interconnected to the point that a shift of belief in one part will affect all other components. I also plan to touch on topics such as human nature, genetic diversity, evolution, human sexuality, justice and creativity. I will also do this with the understanding that my views will likely continue to develop over time.

Now I must clarify that in no way do I think I am exploring any uncharted territory here. For the past several centuries, many gifted philosophers, scientists and expert theologians have dedicated their lives to writing thick volumes about many of the topics I am interested in exploring. Rather, I am doing this to fulfill a personal need for clarity and understanding inspired by truth-seekers like Mohandas K. Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. who were able to convert years of intense scholarship into lives of unselfish service. I hope such an in-depth period of self-examination and exploration of "the dark side of the moon" might result in the sharpening of my focus and the strengthening of my convictions.

It is also my hope that this process will serve as a sort of “time capsule” that can capture and articulate where my thoughts are at the present moment. All of this should result in the formation of a revised credo- a statement of beliefs, convictions and guiding principles. The result will by no means be exhaustive, but it is my hope that this process will draw me closer to some firm and well-reasoned conclusions on a variety of complicated matters. I hope this process will help me to see whether or not I really have firm ground on which my ideas stand.

I will try to visit at least one topic each week. The first topic I plan to visit is the issue of prayer. We'll see how it goes.

My Issues with Interpretation (Parts I, II & III)

“You will find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”
- Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars: Return of the Jedi (1983).

Part I: Thus Saith the Lord or Thus Saith the Preacher?
Last Sunday morning, I observed yet another pastor claim that they were speaking and preaching “What Thus Saith the Lord.” The expectation is that preachers are to present to the people “The Word of God” (understood as the Bible itself) and not their own personal opinion. In the process of preaching, this particular pastor offered a bold critique of scholars, theologians and philosophers who he considers as being too critical and analytical in discussing issues that seem “above and beyond” what he considers the Bible’s “simple” message. He accused these individuals of promoting their own personalities and philosophies of who Jesus was instead of preaching who the Bible says Jesus was. His concerns were apparently shared by many in the congregation who nodded, clapped and shouted to communicate their agreement.

I sat silently as such statements sparked a multitude of thoughts in my mind. For one thing, I think the act of interpretation is far more complicated than he claims. From my own research and experience in seminary, I have grown to be convinced that “nobody is neutral” and that we humans can’t help but form our own philosophical approaches to help us make sense of reality. I am persuaded that every human’s perspective is constantly responding to and being informed by their particular background, social standing, experience, culture, biases, prejudices and concerns. If every human authority is steeped in a particular perspective and bias, then I would deduce that the human authors of the Bible’s contents were also affected by human limitations, tendencies and cultural conditions. Add to that the fact that, a few millennia later, we are trying to interpret those ancient documents and one can see how the limits of humanity only serve to compound the complexities of the interpretive process.

Perhaps it is this difficulty that intimidates many of those who claim to accept certain ideas “by faith,” choosing not to dwell on the complex matters. But what is reality and how do we respond to this reality?

As humans, there are plenty of things that we hope to be true about ourselves and the universe. Many of us hope that there is someone listening to (and answering) our prayers, that our loved ones will be safe from harm, and that we are correct in our understanding of those things that provide our lives with a sense of meaning and purpose. Some of us even hope in a glorious afterlife and a warm reception into an otherworldly realm following the unavoidable moment when our last breath leaves our physical bodies. We humans seem to need something to hope for in order to function.

But if we are honest in facing reality we may discover that a large amount of what we had hoped to be true about ourselves and the universe may prove to be the result of flawed information, mistaken assumptions or grave misunderstandings. What do we do then?

In regards to perceiving reality, I think it is often the case that we humans tend to see what we want to see. We (including myself) rationalize and justify those things we hope to be true despite compelling arguments and evidence to the contrary. It seems that we devise ideas, theories, and meanings to help us understand the complexities and mysteries of reality. Considering this tendency, I deduce that it is unrealistic to expect that we humans can be anything but subjective in our understanding of reality.

By subjective, I am describing our own biased outlooks- perspectives which may not be immediately obvious or apparent to the perceptions of others. The opposite of subjectivity is objectivity. An objective observation is neutral, unbiased and impartial; it is based on facts rather than bias, prejudice, emotion or opinion. The social sciences testify that we humans can never be objective in our assessments because- no matter how hard we try to avoid it- we humans remain confined to our subjectivity.

Retired Episcopal Bishop and author John Shelby Spong offers a similar thought in an article he wrote for http://www.beliefnet.com/ almost 10 years ago.

No human being, no hierarchy, and no church can ever tell anyone who God is or what God is...All anyone can ever tell another person is how he or she or a particular institution believes it has experienced God. All God talk--including all scriptures, all creeds, all theology--is subjective, not objective.

Oh, how refreshing it would be if people would admit to the limits of their own humanity! I think that such honesty and humility would greatly add to the credibility of those who claim to offer us "the truth."

Part II: Attempts to Grasp the Ungraspable
In their book, Why God Won’t Go Away: Brain Science and the Biology of Belief authors and neuroscientists, Andrew Newberg, M.D., Eugene D’Aquili, M.D., Ph.D., and Vince Rause observe that “We interpret and funnel that which our brain tells us is real through our subjective self-awareness” (p. 143).

The authors, relying heavily on the results of their own research experiments and the testimonies of mystics from the world’s major religious traditions (especially contemplative Catholics and Buddhists engaging in meditation), seem to embrace the idea of an unknowable God (or Ultimate Reality) as opposed to a personal (or personalized) God. The authors perceive that the contemplative mystics of various religious traditions typically understand God as being “beyond all comprehension and description, and that all literal interpretations of [this] unknowable nature can never be more than symbols pointing toward a deeper, more mysterious truth” (p. 158).

The authors say a lot about a mysterious neurobiological state of transcendence they call “Absolute Unitary Being” describing it as “a state of pure awareness, a clear and vivid consciousness of no-thing…a sudden, vivid consciousness of everything as an undifferentiated whole” (p. 147). They claim that “[i]n Absolute Unitary Being, nothing is experienced but the pure and complete unity of all things, or of no-things. One thing cannot stand apart from another, so individual beings and objects cannot be perceived. The egotistical self cannot exist because it has no non-self against which to define itself. In the same fashion, God cannot be set apart from this ultimate oneness as an identifiable, personalized being- to do so would be to conceive of a God who is less than absolutely real” (p. 160-161).

They continue, “The perception of an absolute reality therefore, would demand that God be more than a knowable being, and make it clear that all personifications of God are symbolic attempts to grasp the ungraspable…the state of Absolute Unitary Being impresses upon anyone who experiences it, the realization that the God we can know is only a glimmer of a higher spiritual reality, in the same way, perhaps, that a single beam of light implies the glory of the sun…” (p. 161).

They conclude one of their points by saying, “If we are right, if religions and the literal Gods they define are in fact interpretations of transcendent experience, then all interpretations of God are rooted, ultimately, in the same experience of transcendent unity. This holds true whether this ultimate reality actually exists, or is only a neurological perception generated by an unusual brain state. All religions, therefore, are kin. None of them can exclusively own the realist reality, but all of them, at their best steer the heart and mind in the right direction.” (p. 160-162)

I think these authors are really on to something here when it comes to reality and the human attempts to understand that reality.

Part III: The Implications of Interpretation
It seems to me that it is often the case that an observable event occurs and we- the observers- are left to interpret and make sense of the objective facts by creating an understanding born from our subjective viewpoints and the selective evidence available to us. In other words, objective events happen and we come up with subjective explanations to make sense of those events.

One example of this is a simple as a dream. The other day I found myself thinking about the subjective nature of dream interpretation. I have known people (including myself) who have had dreams or visions of bizarre happenings and have understood these as “messages from God.” The interesting thing I began to note in myself is that when I awake from a dream, I immediately attempt to piece together the memorable details. It becomes a strange exercise when I try to identify the fuzzy figures from my dream by linking them to familiar faces and names of those I have known or seen before.

But how trustworthy is this process of interpretation? How do we know when a dream-like vision is an important message or the result of some unsettling neurobiological activity? Living in a country where many subscribe to a biblical worldview, it becomes relevant for us to consider reconsider those Bible stories where characters in the stories receive messages and directions from a dream which serve to warn or to inform them of a future event. Based on such stories, many throughout history have been led to believe that they too are capable of receiving and understanding such messages by interpreting their own dreams and visions.

But this is where I think things can get really nebulous. While I think that one could derive meaning from one’s subjective perception of reality, I take issue when others are expected to accept another’s subjective perception of reality- lest they be condemned by rejecting it.

I have spoken with several people who claim they have had dreams and visions where religious figures such as Jesus, Mary the mother of Jesus, or the Prophet Muhammad have appeared to them. When I hear such reports, questions begin to race through my mind, such as: “Did that really happen?” and “How do they know what Jesus, Mary or Muhammad looked like in order to identify them?” I am not denying that mystical experiences happen, but I wonder how accurate we are in reporting what we experience. Do we just see what we want to see?

Another example of human subjectivity in the face of an observable event is the crucifixion of the 1st century Palestinian Jew known to history as Jesus of Nazareth. Some would claim that history bears witness to this man’s death by torture on a wooden cross. (NOTE: Others would be more skeptical when they consider the sources of most of our information about Jesus’ crucifixion come from the records of his devoted followers who were already convinced that he was the Jewish Messiah and "The Savior of the World." Regardless, these sources indicate that Jesus died within hours of his crucifixion).

The death of Jesus would seem to describe both an objective and a measurable event. But the tricky part arises when those who observe such an event begin to attach meaning, value, or significance to the “cold, hard fact” of the matter. Adherents to a classic and popular form of Christianity would later come to believe that the physical death of Jesus of Nazareth carried a meaning and significance of cosmic and metaphysical proportions in which a sinless being (a divine-human hybrid) willingly and knowingly sacrificed themselves to atone for the sins of humanity and to reconcile humans to a personal God who required such a sacrifice. Many others would deny the attaching of any such significance to the death of Jesus and count this event as they would the untimely death of any other human being who is victimized by human violence. Over the last two millennia, scores of theologians and philosophers have tried to make sense of this event- trying to interpret and understand objective reality through their subjective human explanations and understandings.

This is a prime example that adds grayscale complexity to a reality that was already complicated to begin with. One event with an endless variety of explanations and thus the root of many conflicts and controversies in our modern world.

What is at stake here? I believe that issues of interpretation lead directly into corresponding issues of authority and trust. What sources of information are worthy of our trust? What authorities are we basing our conclusions upon? What are the implications of accepting such authorities? What is our responsibility as humans with the means to think for ourselves? The way I see it, the authorities we trust will have an inevitable effect on our view of reality. In the same manner, our views of reality will have an inescapable effect on our behaviors. And because of this, issues of interpretation carry both constructive and destructive potential.

For example, if I believe that my next door neighbor is subhuman and inferior to me then it is likely that I will not value their life as much as I value my own. Therefore, my actions toward them will inevitably serve as expressions of that belief. On the other hand, if I believe that my next door neighbor is a human of equal worth and deserving of fair treatment and mutual respect, then that belief will also find expression through my actions and interactions with them. Hence, one’s behavior is a natural consequence of one’s beliefs. That’s precisely why this business of interpretation is so risky and scary.

Imagine how helpful it would be if we could bring a biblical author from 2,500 years ago onto Book TV to discuss and answer questions about what they were thinking about and experiencing when they were writing their passages, poems, and psalms. It’s fun to imagine what such a Q&A would be like. I’d like to think that such an exchange would help to resolve a lot of the speculation fueling many of our modern-day debates regarding biblical interpretation. But until such an unlikely possibility becomes possible all we have to work with are fragments of an ancient world and our own opinionated and selectively informed viewpoints about what those fragments meant to the ancients then and what they mean for us in the present day.

I realize that my perspective is limited and I am willing to consider that I may be in error, but I am interested in dealing with reality, not avoiding it. I believe that only by confronting the complexities of reality can we hope to make any progress in this thing called life.

"Welcome to the confusion."- Carmelo Alvarez

Missing in Action

Allow me to explain why I haven’t blogged in a while. Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting on my next step in life. But there have also been some really good developments lately.

Career wise: I was recently asked to do some freelance writing for my seminary’s alumni magazine (Hey, it’s a start). This is actually my first paid freelance assignment and I am excited about the thought of a career in writing. So far I have written six articles for them. I’ve also been able to secure quite a bit of media exposure for my church and the ministries that I am somewhat connected to.

Family wise: My grandfather is recovering well from the stroke he had back in May. Also, next week I’ll be helping my younger brother move to Cleveland to live with our mother (who has been clean and sober for the past two years).

I would classify all the above as good things. But the creative energy of my mind has been drained by the following issues:

- Wondering how I fit in my church and in my Christian band when my future with both hinges on how we deal with the fact that my current views about God, Jesus and the Bible are quite different from the majority of members.

- Articulating a written credo to clarify my convictions for both for myself and for those closest to me.

- Wondering if I will have sufficient availability and finances to continue my seminary studies this semester.

- Wondering if the cost of my education is worth the emotional and financial tension it is causing to some of my friends and family members.

- Wondering what career I should pursue considering my interests and abilities (journalism, writing, cartooning, ministry, teaching, travelling artist, etc.)

- Figuring out a plan to move from full-time employee to full-time student by January 2008.

- Trying to balance all of my commitments while also starting back on sketching illustrations and producing artwork.

- Wrestling with the theological and philosophical questions and doubts that constantly invade my thoughts.

- The fact that I haven’t really prayed (or believed in the power of prayer) in months.

Right now, these are the things which worry and overwhelm my mind (although I know Jesus said "don't worry"). But I also can’t help but wonder how different (and pathetic) my list must look compared the burdens that others carry as they try to struggle under the threat of death, sickness, war, poverty and abuse. My concerns must seem trifling compared to theirs, but this is honestly where I am and what I am wrestling with. If my creative energies are being misdirected then I hope that I will grow to focus on issues and causes that are more worthy of my attention. Until then I press on and work with what is before me.

The Risky Path of the Truth-Seeker

I am troubled by what seems to be anti-intellectualism amongst Christians. And Scriptures like Colossians 2:8 (about not being persuaded by deceptive philosophies) are troubling for me. Why? Because my studies indicate that ancient philosophers and theologians are largely responsible for much of what is now considered a mainstream understanding of the Christian faith. Ideas about God being "omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent” are concepts and terms rooted in ancient Greek philosophy. Doctrines like “original sin” and “atonement theory” were born from philosopher/theologians like Augustine and Anselm of Canterbury. Christianity began incorporating these and other philosophies as it spread throughout surrounding cultures.

However, I find it interesting and ironic that- in our modern age- those who claim to live by "biblical principles" also make entensive use of these "philosophical" ideas which have little to no basis in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures. To reference Colossians 2:8, I can definitely see how many of these philosophies have obscured and distorted the life and teachings of Jesus throughout the past two millenia.

It seems that many biblical literalists only want to be informed by those intellectuals, philosophers and scientists whose findings reinforce the doctrines and beliefs that they want to defend. It's like Martin Luther King, Jr. said in his essay, “Tough-Mind, Tender-Heart”:

Soft-mindedness often invades religion. This is why religion has sometimes rejected new truth with dogmatic passion. Through edicts and bulls, inquisitions and excommunications, the church has attempted to prorogue truth and place and impenetrable stone wall in the path of the truth-seeker. The historical-philological criticism of the Bible is considered by the soft-minded as blasphemous, and reason is often looked upon as the exercise of a corrupt faculty…

Yes, using reason is often seen by many Christians as “the exercise of a corrupt faculty.” But why? Many caring Christians fear that if we question too much we will threaten our faith and lose our connection with God. They fear that we will lose belief or our “spiritual foundation.” I have heard them say things like, “I just believe the Bible...I don’t question it…The Bible is always right…The biblical writers were directed by God…If anything is wrong then I must be reading it wrong.”

To the contrary, there are those who desire to follow Jesus but who cannot seem to find encouragement in their congregations to apply critical thinking to their study of the Bible and the traditional doctrines of the Christian faith. I want to follow the essential teachings of Jesus, but not at the expense of abandoning my own ability to think, discern and reason. I don’t want to be forced to accept as literal any mythological stories and abstract doctrines that have proven to be founded on some ancient person’s misunderstanding, personal agenda, or limited knowledge. I don’t want to find myself feeling threatened by scientific discoveries just because they may contradict what I think the Bible says. And I definitely don’t want to damn most of the world’s people to hell because they don’t share a specific set of doctrinal beliefs.

I struggle with the idea that God is displeased when humans think critically about their beliefs. I suspect that many beliefs branded as necessary to the Christian faith are really additions added for various reasons which include control, conquest, categorization, and conversion…not because they were originally part of Jesus’ message.

Yes, I have to be on guard as to not let pride and bitterness consume me, but I have a conviction that seeking the truth is a good thing (although many of us would disagree as to what is meant by "the truth"). I am on a mission to find out what is really essential to the Christian faith…or better yet: what is essential to seeking God and following the way of Jesus (and what is not!).

I understand the concern of church members and I agree that the path of the seeker is a risky path. But I don’t want to fear the truth or any “new truth.” I want to hear different perspectives. I listen in hopes that my ideas about God might be enlarged and enlightened (although many would probably say that I am now "blind" and in the dark). Yes, I have flirted with my own disbelief to the point that a lot of atheists and agnostics make a lot of sense. And I suspect that they will continue to make sense as long as we Christians continue to preach a message that often comes off as irrelevant, ill-founded and outdated.

Maybe I am too skeptical and maybe I have grown too suspicious, but I want to believe that God wants us to exercise discernment and reason. Where do I go from here? I don’t know. But I have faith that I am being guided towards something worthwhile. I am encouraged by the lives of those who went through similar searches for "the truth": Thomas Jefferson, Marcus Borg, Eric Elnes, Alice Walker, Karen Armstrong, Krista Tippett, Martin Luther King, Jr., Thomas Merton, Mohandas K. Gandhi, Malcolm X, James Cone, Bart Ehrman, Thomas Paine, Bishop John Shelby Spong, and Jacques Kriel...to name a few.

I realize that I might be remembered among the most foolish people in history but I also realize that I might be right where I need to be. I still think I am onto something. The scary thing is that my pursuit of truth may cost me more than I ever expected to give. I just pray my journey leaves me with a tough mind and a tender heart.

God’s Image and the gods we Imagine

I think we invent our own Gods. I say this partly because we all worship something, be it a person, a material thing, a spiritual being or an ideal of how we think life should be. The Book of Genesis says that God made man and woman in God’s image. But could it also be possible that throughout the ages these same men and women have created our own images of God? We see this happen in both the Bible and in world history. And I do it too. Most people who believe in God come up with metaphors to explain how we understand God. But it gets tricky when we start to literalize these metaphors and create worldviews out of them. To paraphrase a point made by author Karen Armstrong, this gets dangerous because we make images of God where God likes who or what we like and hates who or what we hate. If we can throw God’s name on it, then we can justify almost anything we want to do…whether it be God’s will or not.

We also see this happen with Jesus. For nearly 2,000 years many of us have created images of Jesus that fit within our personal agendas. Can’t you imagine what the toy aisles at department stores would look like if they carried the following action-figures? Collect them all. You’ve got your Camp-Counselor Jesus, your Sugar Daddy Jesus, your Prayer Warrior Jesus, your Hippie Jesus, your Beatnik Jesus, your Dreadlocked Jesus, your Blue-Eyed Jesus, your Civil Rights Jesus, your Gun-Toting Jesus, your Rock Star Jesus, your Stained Glass Jesus, your Fire & Brimstone Jesus, your Bible-Thumping Jesus (complete with his church suit), and your Hollywood Jesus (who speaks with a British accent).

Will the real Jesus please stand up? Or should I say “rise up?” And may we seek to know God and follow Jesus in the way that they are and not how we want them to be.

The simple way of Brother Herman

Two weeks ago I was in Houston, Texas, with my wife and daughter attending a Cajun cookout in honor of my wife's cousin's high school graduation. While I was socializing with people who gathered for the celebration I had a conversation with one of my uncle-in-law’s relatives- an African-American Catholic friar known as Brother Herman. Brother Herman is a minister and a professor of Spanish who lives in a monastery with other friars in New Orleans. He was among those who survived Hurricane Katrina and the flood that it brought about in New Orleans. We talked for a while about the effect of the flood on his city and his vocation as a language professor. But our longest discussion was about faith.

He told me about what drew him into ministry and I told him about the experiences that led me to enroll in seminary. We talked about the current Pope and the offense he caused in his recent visit to Latin America when he praised the Portuguese missionaries for bringing civilization to people of Latin America (In response to this, Brother Herman said, "Civilization was there before those colonial-minded missionaries ever landed on shore...and so was God"). He told me about the mystic bent Pope John Paul II took as he got older in regards to the idea that there may be other paths to God. He encouraged me in my theological studies and advised me to keep a critical eye and to engage in a respectful critique of other faiths as well as my own. I asked him about his personal prayer life and he told me how he maintains his communion with God by attending Mass, taking communion and spending time in prayer every morning. We discussed how important it is for humans to really seek an ongoing and thriving connection to God and to not allow for rituals to lose their meaning because of routine.

We then shared our understandings of ministry and evangelism. He reminded me that ministry (a word so commonly and carelessly thrown around and attached to anything church-related) is really just another word for “service” and that ministry is not limited to the roles of priests, preachers and chaplains. He noted that while many feel called to such professional roles, those are not the only opportunities for service that exist in God’s kingdom. He said that we are all ministers in the sense that we all can be of service by using our gifts and abilities to help others. To illustrate this point, he told me a personal story of how he had low self-esteem until a priest helped him discover his own gift for languages by teaching him how to speak Spanish when he was 13 years old. Young Herman went through school, got better grades and honed his language skills until he became a language professor himself. He told me that he now lives out his ministry in and out of the classroom by "treating people nice" and "showing hospitality to them."

He shared his opinion on evangelism by saying, "I don’t believe that it is our place as Catholics to make other people Catholic. I believe our mission as Catholics is to do what Catholics do...serve others." His words we so simple yet they summed up what I've been trying to articulate for quite some time now. Years ago, I used to think that having witty answers to a skeptic’s questions was the best way to convince an unbeliever that the gospel was true. Nowadays, I find myself leaning towards the belief that our most effective and faithful witness to the world might be our everyday acts of service, hospitality, compassion and kindness. This is the witness that I think truly moves people to connect with God and others. MaybeI'm going too far in making it an either/or type of situation, but I at least want to do more to incorporate the latter approach in my relationships with others.

Ultimately, my conversation with Brother Herman left me to wonder: Perhaps our goal shouldn't be to pressure others to follow Jesus, but to do what a follower of Jesus does in the Spirit by which Jesus did it. A way of life where we do good for others - not as a means of getting a heavenly reward or avoiding an eternal punishment- but because that is what we do as followers of Jesus.

I wonder: Could the gospel really be that simple? Yep. Simple enough for a child to understand it and apply it.

A Time of Separation

Right now, my Bible and I are temporarily separated. I needed some space. I still spend a lot of time thinking about the things she’s taught me and I might occasionally check on her from time to time, but we don’t spend time together like we used to. And lately I haven't felt the need to. I thought it would be best for us to become strangers so that we could get reacquainted and understand each other better. So now we are starting over without all the unrealistic expectations of each other.

Our separation was not totally unexpected. I had a feeling this would happen eventually. I just felt like there was more to her than what I wanted her to be. And I didn’t think it was fair to confine her to my unrealistic expectations.When I first met her, I wanted her to be pure, perfect, faultless, honest, and trustworthy. And in doing so I made her my idol- which is dangerous. Though they meant well, the people who introduced me to her didn’t tell me the whole story about how she came to be who she was. But, honestly, I probably couldn’t have handled the truth about her back then. I can barely handle it now.

Over a year and a half ago, I began to find out things about her that concerned me. I came across some negative rumors about her background, the things she has said, the many places she has been, and the people she has been with. I wanted to know what others had to say about her, especially those who had also had strong relationships with her in the past. I wanted to get advice from those who had been through some tough times with her and who could also see her faults. I wanted hear from those who had been betrayed by her broken promises. I wanted to know how they managed to live with her despite her shortcomings.

As it turns out, she wasn’t as pure as I was led to believe. But perhaps she didn’t need to be. We were both human. If I had flaws, why couldn’t she? I came to realize that even though she was “God-breathed” (like me) she was also human creation (like me), complete with her own limitations, prejudices, emotions, and contradictions. And if she and I were to be in a serious, long-term, committed relationship then I would have to embrace her with all of her complexities and shortcomings in order to move forward.

I used to be one of those who placed her up on a pedestal of perfection, worshipping her like a god and promising to be faithful to her above all the others who were competing for my attention. I was one of those people who couldn’t imagine spending a day without her by my side. While I respect such a romantic approach and those who use it, I knew that approach wouldn’t be enough for me. I craved a deeper relationship but I didn’t want to be naïve. I wanted to be realistic because I knew that this woman had some issues that were a little more complicated.

You see, she’s seen a lot of violence in her lifetime. She has been abused by many and some have even gotten into harsh arguments and bloody disputes over her. She’s felt the pain of being ignored because a lot of the people she has been with in the past wouldn’t let her share her story. Most of them didn’t want to hear what she had to say or take the time to understand where she’s coming from. They didn’t want to listen to her talk about the difficult topics and the unforgettable traumas. They just wanted her to be their trophy.

I don’t think we can ever go back to how it used to be. We’re too far gone. While I’ve seen many people benefit from her wisdom, I’ve also seen too many people who have been hurt because of her words. And I don’t know if I can trust everything she says without being a little critical. You see, she talks a lot about the “good news” but many of her ideas aren’t faithful to it. And no matter what she or anyone else says…she is not God. Many people are afraid to tell her when she’s wrong, but she’s human and she has made some mistakes too.

While there are things I love about her there are also some things that really disturb me. But I’m learning to accept her and to deal with her as she is and not how I want her to be. As you can see, we’re long past the honeymoon phase. Nowadays, we are facing the really complicated question that lies at the heart of a committed relationship: How do you accept each other’s shortcomings and move on?

It’s going to take time to work through all of this. When we talk now, which is rarely, she leaves me with more questions than answers. But maybe that’s OK. I may never know all of the mysteries contained within her, but I would rather struggle with who she really is than live with a false idea of who I want her to be.