Archive for December, 2006

What Does the Divine See in Us

Tuesday, December 12th, 2006

What a lot of angst over a bunch of SeaTac artificial Christmas trees. I believe they are putting them back up as I write, but I have not heard whether or not they will put up a Menorah beside them. I hope so. Let us not trivialize these symbols by argument, but contemplate the meanings behind them.

Christmas is next week.  Whatever our politically correct friends say, the word Christmas refers to the “Birth of the Christ” and cannot be translated “Happy holidays”.   Whether or not you accept that Jesus of Nazareth was the Christ or believe we wait for another, still that is what the term Christmas means. From our point of view we will be forced to argue forever over such matters.  For many people the idea that the birth of the Christ was an historical event 2000 years ago is implausible to say the least, and consequently so many feel disenfranchised from the central event. They cannot go along with the story, nor can they buy into the notions inherent in the claim. After all we are living in the 21st century, and we are a vast throng of people of many ideas, experiences, backgrounds, faiths, cultures, and beliefs. To talk about Christmas though I must revert to talking about concepts and notions which may be alien to many who read this article.

Teresa of Avila in her work, “The Interior Castle” talks about the human soul in this way: “We consider our soul to be like a castle made entirely out of a diamond or of very clear crystal, ….it is nothing else but a paradise where God says He finds His delight.”  Behind the notion or idea of Christmas is the idea of the Divine finding delight in and seeking a place in the soul of people each of us on earth. Every iridescent soul is a place where the Divine seeks to dwell, whether recognized or not. This principle is what lies behind Christmas. As such our festival is really about God’s desire, not just an historical event that might or might not have happened as the story is told. Thus God’s seeking entry into each glittering soul is partly the story of all religions as we each in our own way seek to respond to the Divine’s knock, that quiet insistent presence that illuminates the beauty of our souls.

People inside and outside churches and other faith institutions, both believers and those without an opinion, have the same profound problem with this idea. In my meditation and prayer class, we find ourselves resistant to the implications of God’s view of us as being glittering souls that God perceives with joy. Our view of ourselves is universally tainted by our assumptions about ourselves, aided by the insistent messages we have received all our lives. To be lit with the presence of the Divine requires us to let go of so much baggage that to reject the whole business of faith is one understandable response, but the opposite response is to immerse ourselves in beliefs that conform to the stunted views we have of ourselves. I note as I am teaching this prayer and meditation class that most of our energy in the early classes is spent on wrestling with the grossly negative views we have of ourselves, and which prevent us ever playing host to the Divine. People prefer guilt and being convicted of sin, they prefer to wallow in their unrighteousness and defer forever the moment of welcoming the Divine.

So when we set about celebrating Christmas we all slip the reigns on ourselves, and get into the spirit of Christmas, and welcome that which we do not have to define. Our souls do sparkle for a moment, they do bear witness to what is real, and we embrace for a short time the birth in us of the Divine, call it what you will.  Our Christmas trees, artificial or not, may be seen emblematic of that presence in us as the lights shine forth catching our attention first this way now that.

So, don’t take down the Christmas trees or protest the story. Put up a Menorah as well, for after all the whole idea of the birth of the Messiah was a Jewish idea in the first place that we have now all borrowed. Look past our differences to what the Divine is seeing and seeking in each of us.

Emptiness

Tuesday, December 12th, 2006

Advent season announces the coming of the Kingdom of God, the coming of the Messiah.

Looking back, such events always begin in the desert. Abraham was semi-nomadic, Israel was born in the desert, even Christianity begins with the Baptist’s mission statement, “In the desert, prepare ye the way of the Lord.”

Where is our desert to be found, where will we find that barren emptiness in which the voice of God can be heard anew?

I just returned from Florida. Where I was, there were lines of malls on each side of some roads populated with people carrying overstuffed bags, driving overstuffed cars.

Where is the desert?

Rampant materialization is here to stay. A plentitude of food is here to stay. We have to live with plenty.

Our problem is filling what is already full. We no longer know hunger, or discomfort, or the barrenness of the desert.

Thus there can be no room at the inn, no silence to hear the voice of God, no solitary place to meet him face to face.

Let’s not waste our breath moralizing about this state of excess! Over the last 100,000 years mankind has evolved a metabolism to handle seasonal fluctuations of food availability and periodic famine. Now this plentitude of and availability of all food all the time makes moot those mechanisms that have served us in the past. Now our bodies cannot cope with the plentitude of food. Diabetes, cancer, heart disease and other problems are the result, directly or indirectly, of our society’s success.

Instead of struggling against this overpowering materialism as a moral issue, we need to assert that being hungry is good, feeling empty is not bad, felling exhausted is a place of rest, evening being depressed is a place to acknowledge your deepest need. Pills will not usher in the Kingdom of God, but in these waste and desert places in you is your best hope.

I need to be hungry to be healthy. I need to feel the desolation of the desert to be willing to need my God. I need the silence of all that emptiness to hear his voice.