God Creates Things That Create

earthIn Romans 8:22, Paul says, “From the beginning until now, the entire creation as we know it has been groaning in one great act of giving birth.” That is a very feminine notion of creation, giving birth slowly through labour pains. It complements Genesis’ masculine statement: “Let there be light!” (1:3). Just this one line from Paul should be enough to justify a Christian belief in evolution. Yet to this day, the issue of evolution still divides some Christians, questioning what is rather obvious: that God creates things that create themselves. Wouldn’t this be the greatest way that God could create–to give autonomy, freedom, and grace to things to keep self-creating even further? (Non-creative minds tend to not see or allow creativity anywhere else. In fact, that is what makes them so uncreative!)

Healthy parents love their children so much that they want them to keep growing, producing, and performing to their highest potential. Good parents are even excited when their children surpass them, as my uneducated farmer parents were when I went off to higher studies. Mature parents are generative about their children and say, in my paraphrase of Jesus’ words: “Don’t get too excited about the things that we did. You’re going to do even greater things!” (John 14:12). Immature parents only see their children as images and extensions of themselves. True love empowers and delights in the even larger and independent successes of those they love. (It is often would-be successful sons who are most resented and abused by jealous and weak fathers.)

For a long time most people were satisfied with a very static universe. Yet Jesus understands reality as dynamic and evolutionary. Clearly there is an unfolding to the universe (we are literally still expanding!). Reality is going somewhere. It’s moving, until “In the end there will only be Christ. He is everything and he is in everything” (Colossians 3:11). The One > Multiplicity > Conscious Unity seems to be the underlying pattern. Paul sees history as an ongoing process of ever greater inclusion of every lesser force until in the end, “God will be all in all” (1 Corinthians 15:28). The notion of the Cosmic Christ is precisely “the One” reality that includes everything and excludes nothing. As St. Bonaventure put it, “God is the One whose centre is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.”

Richard Rohr, from Daily Meditation (26 January, 2015), adapted from Christ, Cosmology, and Consciousness and A New Cosmology: Nature as the First Bible

Laying it on

christmas loveIt’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

As we approach this holiday, preparations are being made for huge family get-togethers, massive roast turkeys, bottomless bowls of salad, and copious amounts of drink (alcoholic or otherwise).

With this celebrations, the pressure is on to do what we colloquially term ‘laying it on’–putting on your best face, wearing your trendiest clothes, saying things that could pass as highly intelligent or bring the family to tears of laughter.

Sometimes we simply lose sight of what it is all about, as we are reminded in this fourth week of Advent, love.

Love doesn’t require airs, shows, obligatory pleasantries, or even artfully-painted faces. Love is.

With love–and I am speaking here of both being loving and accepting love from others and from God–there is freedom to be who we are. Richard Rohr uses the example of his favourite saint, Francis of Assisi, to illustrate that my true identity and my deepest freedom comes from God’s infinite love for me. When I know that I am loved unconditionally (without obligations or requirements on my part) I have a certain kind of freedom where not only do I not care what others think of me, but I, occasionally, intentionally play the fool in order that they don’t get too high a view of my self.

St. Francis illustrates this stage in many memorable ways. When he hears one day that the people of Assisi are calling him a saint, he invites Brother Juniper to join him in a walk through his old home town. Brother Juniper was the first simpleton (that is a compliment!), the holy fool of the original friars. Francis knew he could always trust him to understand what he was saying. Francis once said, “I wish I had a whole forest of such Junipers!”

Francis told Brother Juniper, “Let’s take off these robes, get down to our underwear, and just walk back and forth through Assisi. Then all these people who are thinking we are saints will know who we really are!” Now that’s a saint: someone who doesn’t need to be considered a saint, who can walk foolishly in his underwear the full length of Assisi.

A few years later, when people were again calling Francis a saint, he said, “Juniper, we’ve got to do it again.” This time they carried a plank into the piazza. They put it over some kind of a stone or maybe the fountain, and there they seesawed all day. They had no need to promote or protect any reputation or pious self-image.

That’s a rather constant spiritual tradition in the Eastern Church and in the Desert Fathers and Mothers, but it pretty much got lost after the 13th century Franciscans. We became more and more serious about this intense salvation thing, or you might say we took ourselves far too seriously. Moralism replaced mysticism. And this only increased after the in-house fighting of the 16th century reformations. We all needed to prove we were right. Have you noticed that people who need to prove they are right cannot laugh or smile?

When you are a “holy fool” you’ve stopped trying to look like something more than you really are. That’s when you know, as you eventually have to know, that we are all naked underneath our clothes, and we don’t need to pretend to be better than we are. I am who I am, who I am, who I am; and that creation, for some unbelievable reason, is who God loves, precisely in its uniqueness. My true identity and my deepest freedom comes from God’s infinite love for me, not from what people think of me or say about me. Both the people who praise me and those who hate me are usually doing it for the wrong reasons. - Richard Rohr, adapted from Franciscan Mysticism (an unpublished talk)

May you know this kind of love this Christmas, a love that frees, a love that releases from expectations, a love that doesn’t need to ‘lay it on’ for others to see, and a love that values others simply because they are loved by God rather than because of what they can bring to the table.

A Meeting of Shareholders

sharesSo I had this dream.

Normally I don’t remember much of what I dream but, for some reason, this one I remember as if it were a technicolour movie.

In this dream, I walk with my family into what appears to be an arena of sorts—not a sports arena, but a small, but open space that looks similar to art I’ve seen depicting the Roman Senate at the time of Julius Caesar. Around the square floor of this arena rose wide limestone steps, like those of an amphitheatre. The steps were wide enough so that tables and chairs could be set on them. The levels were about 2 feet high and there were five or six of them between the arena floor and the back walls.

At the tables sat men and women who were listening intently to someone whom, I assumed, was in a position of authority, speaking from a small stage under a gazebo built in the middle of the arena. As he was speaking, I heard murmurs of approval or disapproval from the audience, and several of them were writing things down on papers (which I later found out to be a type of ballot).

The man in the arena was addressing the audience as ‘shareholders’ and it seemed like he was urging them to make decisions on some aspect of the yet-unknown company’s operations.

As my family and I walked around the edge of the arena floor, just under the first level of tables, I also saw children and youth milling about. Some sat on the floor by some of the tables, but most took the opportunity to play around the roof-supporting columns of the upper levels of the stands.

Returning my attention to the floor of the arena, I saw, surrounding the leader, men and women. Some were carrying books, some had instruments (It appears there had been some sort of performance prior to the speaking.) In front of the stage were tables with rows of old, leather-bound books, not unlike the records of proceedings which decorate the centre tables in the chambers of Parliament. I remember assuming, as I dreamed, that this was no ordinary shareholder’s meeting since it appeared to meet on a fairly regular and consistent basis in this space.

As the meeting in my dream progressed, I made my way towards the stage and ended up standing next to this leader. Seeing the stands from this vantage point, I began to notice a flow of people in and out of the arena. It appeared that, at different points in the meeting, some who disagreed would pack up their papers and books and leave and others would come in and take their place. On their way out, they would hand over some paperwork to a person who stood behind a bench and they would return to them something that looked like cash. These were obviously the shareholders who had decided that they no longer wished to be investors in the company, cashing in their stock and leaving.

It’s then that I began to see, as if my eyes had been out of focus but had somehow regained 20/20 vision. I recognised some of the ‘shareholders.’ They were fellow members of my church. The men and women standing around the stage seemed to morph into elders and members of the church board. The people holding instruments, the worship team. The CEO addressing the crowd, our pastor.

Whether or not this vision was influenced by recent church meetings, I have no idea. Votes were being made, people were leaving on the basis of those votes. The pastor, try as he might to persuade folks to vote in a certain way, couldn’t seem to make any progress, and the meeting dragged on as my family and I walked out the door which we had entered earlier.

I don’t know if this dream has any significance beyond the fact that I really don’t like church meetings. Yet, somehow, I can see in this a snapshot of how our contemporary version of Church has bought into the consumer culture where we can ‘shop around’ for a better church that ticks all of our personal wish list boxes. If things aren’t going well, we can either exercise our shareholder’s prerogative and attempt to change the direction of the company through lobbying, voting or investing more, or we can ‘sell our shares’ and move on.

In many ways, the clergy (with the support of the elders, board, council or other church body of authority) is doing much like the CEO of any corporation—selling the vision, encouraging people to buy into that vision and then invest their time, money and talents for the prosperity of the company. As more invest, the share price goes up, the public reputation on the ‘Church Exchange’ rises, and the church grows.

I don’t believe this is the community that shares the vision of Christ.

If we are seeking our own comfort and to perpetuate that sense of ease in our congregations, if we are seeing the ballot as the only catalyst of change, if all we are concerned about is getting our own voice heard or our idea approved, we are not following in the steps of the one whose name we claim.

The Church was never meant to be a meeting of shareholders. It was not established to be ruled by the principles of free enterprise. It is, and always ought to be, a place that exists for the betterment and success of those outside its walls.

And if it fails to live up to that modus operandi established by its founder and Saviour, then I believe we all need to cash in our shares and walk out that door.

And once outside, we may see that this is where God has been working all the while.

Freedom Is Not Knowing

It seems that God is asking humanity to live inside of a cosmic humility, as God also does. In that holding pattern, we bear the ambiguity, the inconsistencies, and the brokenness of all things (which might be called love), instead of insisting on dividing reality into the supposed good guys and the certain bad guys as our dualistic mind loves to imagine. Such non-dual consciousness is our ultimate act of solidarity with humanity and even the doorway to wisdom. With this mind we realize, as Martin Luther wisely put it, we are simul justus et peccator, simultaneously both sinner and saint. Only the mind of God can hold these two together.

We read the story of humanity’s original sin in Genesis. There Yahweh says, “Don’t eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Gen. 2:17). Now why would that be a sin? It sounds like a good thing, doesn’t it? We were actually trained to think that way.

In the seminary we took serious courses on “moral theology” to help us rightly discern who was good and who was bad. Unfortunately, this usually only emboldened the very judgmental mind that Jesus warned us against (see Matthew 7:1-2). Some then thought that this was the whole meaning of Christianity—religion’s purpose was to monitor and police society in regard to its morals. Religion became all about morality instead of being a result and corollary of Divine Encounter. As such, this was much more a search for control or righteousness than it was a search for truth, love, or God. It had to do with the ego’s need for certitude, superiority, and order. Is that what Jesus came for? Jesus never said, “You must be right,” or much less, “You must be sure you are good and right.” Instead he said, “You must love one another.” His agenda is about growing in faith, hope, and love while always knowing that “God alone is good.”

I guess God knew that dualistic thinking would be the direction religion would take. So the Bible says right at the beginning, “Don’t do it!” The word of God is trying to keep us from religion’s constant temptation and failure—a demand for certitude, an undue need for perfect explanation, resolution, and answers, which is, by the way, the exact opposite of faith. Such dualistic thinking (preferring a false either/or to an always complex reality) tends to create arrogant and smug people instead of humble and loving people. Too much “eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” might just be the major sin of all religion—especially Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. The Bible’s first warning has consistently been ignored.

Adapted from Things Hidden: Scripture As Spirituality, pp. 37-39,

Republished from the Daily Meditation by Richard Rohr

Atonement, the Prodigal Son and ‘Why So Serious?’

cross_2There is no doctrine so entrenched in Christianity as that of the Substitutionary Atonement (also known as ‘Vicarious Atonement’ or the ‘Penal Substitution Theory’). In simple terms, this is the teaching that, on the cross, God’s wrath against sinful humanity was absorbed by Jesus—that the payment for sin was made to God by Christ; that this blood sacrifice appeased a holy God and saves us from certain (eternal) condemnation/torment.

This is a major (or may I say MAJOR) theme in many Christian circles, more so amongst fundamentalists. When I was a student at a leading fundamentalist university, this was hammered home to us in every sermon, in most classes, in many prayer meetings. It was not ‘a’ but ‘THE’ central tenet of The Faith and demanded a serious analysis, on a regular basis, of one’s place in the overall scheme of sin and salvation.

And serious it was. One would be out of line to show a smile in a church service or during the singing of a hymn. People had been expelled at this university for daring to treat a song about Jesus in a ‘frivolous’ manner. (see the video that got two students expelled and a third a severe reprimand here.)

And so they sing solemnly, seriously, it seems with a burden that is weighing them down. (Have a look at these two videos of a ‘performance’ of a well-loved (fundamentalist) hymn here and here.)

Here are the words for those of you following along at home (the sheet music is here.):

His robes for mine: O wonderful exchange!
Clothed in my sin, Christ suffered ‘neath God’s rage.
Draped in His righteousness, I’m justified.
In Christ I live, for in my place He died.

Chorus:
I cling to Christ, and marvel at the cost:
Jesus forsaken, God estranged from God.
Bought by such love, my life is not my own.
My praise-my all-shall be for Christ alone.

His robes for mine: what cause have I for dread?
God’s daunting Law Christ mastered in my stead.
Faultless I stand with righteous works not mine,
Saved by my Lord’s vicarious death and life.

His robes for mine: God’s justice is appeased.
Jesus is crushed, and thus the Father’s pleased.
Christ drank God’s wrath on sin, then cried “‘Tis done!”
Sin’s wage is paid; propitiation won.

His robes for mine: such anguish none can know.
Christ, God’s beloved, condemned as though His foe.
He, as though I, accursed and left alone;
I, as though He, embraced and welcomed home!

(His Robes for Mine by Chris Anderson and Greg Habegger ©2008 ChurchWorksMedia.com All rights reserved.)

Here is an insight into Chris Anderson’s understanding that has prompted this composition:

“Verse 3 focuses on the grand doctrine of propitiation, the fact that God’s wrath was not merely deflected from us by Christ, but was rather absorbed by Him in our place. Jesus Christ bore the infinite wrath of God against sin, satisfying God’s wrath and enabling sinners to be forgiven—and justly so. Isaiah 53:10-11 describes it this way: God looks on the travail of Christ’s soul and is satisfied by it. His wrath has been exhausted on Christ. The doctrine of propitiation is taught Isaiah 53, Romans 3:25; 1 John 2:2 and 4:10, et al.” (source: http://blogs.mbu.edu/praisemen/songs/his-robes-for-mine-authors-thoughts)

I have a HUGE problem with the language used (and the theology implied) in this song: ‘Christ suffered ‘neath God’s rage,’ ‘Jesus is crushed, and thus the Father’s pleased,’ and ‘Jesus forsaken, God estranged from God’ among others.

But then I realise that this comes from that classic Biblical story:

A man who had two sons. One demanded his share of the inheritance and then went off and spent it, in a far country, on riotous and loose living. The father, enraged with a fiery anger against that son, took his brother and turned him over to the torturers and finally the executioner. Only when the elder brother had died, paying the penalty that the father demanded for the younger one’s disobedience, was the father able to open up his heart in love and welcome the younger son home and once again grant him the blessings of being a part of the family.

No, I don’t have that story in my Bible either. That, on so many levels, goes against my understanding of God. And if we understand Jesus to be the most accurate depiction we have of God in Scripture, then we must accept that God is loving and compassionate. He would forsake his own Son only as much as he would forsake us, his children. He would not demand a penalty to be paid vicariously any more than the father in the real parable would have demanded one son pay for the sin of another. That is a primitive view–a tribal understanding–of God rooted in a culture set in ancient history and grounded in stories handed down from generation to generation over fires and in marketplaces.

Many argue that this understanding of what took place at the cross is helpful to Christians in certain situations. Scot McKinght in his book A Community Called Atonement illustrates the many theories of atonement (Substitutionary Atonement being one) as being like a set of golf clubs where one club (say, a wedge) may be good for a particular situation (like, for example, if you land your ball in a sand trap), but not practical or helpful in others (as in driving). While this may be true in a metaphorical or illustrative sense (though this may be open to interpretation as well),  I don’t believe it is very helpful in explaining anything of the nature of God or God’s interaction with humanity.

The problem is that we have ‘Set the members of the Trinity against each other—as when the Son is described as the object of the Father’s wrath on the Cross. Others stretch the concept to charge that penal substitution language amounts to “divine child abuse”—where an angry, cosmic Father beats up his meek and helpless Son—hardly the biblical imagery of the relationship of the Father and the Son.’ (source: Christianity Today) God becomes a deity with a schizophrenic tendency or bipolar disorder (and, as we know, without proper medication, either one of these illnesses renders an individual quite unstable.)

Joking aside, if we accept that God is love—If we accept the story of the Prodigal Son to be an illustration of how that love works itself out in reality—then we must not be so hasty to take on the ‘traditional’ view of atonement as fact. Certainly, it can be argued, some of the New Testament authors seemed to believe this was so. But a look at Jesus and his revelation of who the Father is cannot be dismissed. Rather, it should be the cause of much joy, celebration and excitement: All are welcomed—sinners and saints, elder and younger brothers, tax-gatherers and Pharisees—not because Jesus satisfied an angry God, but that God has sought and found us and brought us into the embrace of love and grace.  Welcome home!

Labels, Lies and Aspirations

Rise1A motto says a lot about a business in just a few words.

Think of the one-liners you’ve come across that businesses (or organisations) use to define themselves. Most are well-crafted word-bites that state succinctly where the heart of the business is–what makes them ‘tick,’ so to speak.

Our school’s software provider uses the motto: ‘Teach more. Know more. Stress less.’ As any teacher will tell you, this is the deal-clincher. What educator wouldn’t want to do more for their students but with less stress? This makes this software package appealing before you even try the product.

I suppose that’s why companies, organisations, churches and clubs have mottos: they want to convey an image of what they are all about.

But what if the motto doesn’t match what the organisation actually delivers?

I have seen a fundamentalist, ‘hellfire-and-brimstone’ church with the motto ‘The Church with a Heart.’ But it seems this loving nature is reserved for members only.

I have witnessed a business with the motto ‘Excellence. Always.’ provide very poor customer service and shoddy workmanship.

Christian organisations whose mottos include words such as ‘Integrity,’ ‘Honour,’ or ‘Truth’ seem to display anything but these values in their interactions with employees and those whom they are meant to be serving.

We could look at these examples and declare with a high level of certainty that these are prime displays of hypocrisy and deceit. This may be true. There have been numerous cases of those who convey that they are people of honour and integrity, only to find they are liars, cheaters and embezzlers.

Yet, I am without doubt that no person or organisation sets out to intentionally mislead and create distrust and disillusionment. Even though many have ‘fallen from grace,’ we cannot state categorically that they decided from the outset that they would dishonour their profession, associates, partners, cause, Church or God.

This has led me to draw the conclusion that mottos are aspirational. They are what a business, group, or club would like to be known for–not necessarily where they are at this point in time. If this is so, then, we would expect that folks in these organisations would be passionate about striving to be people who show ‘Respect’ to one another, or who strive for ‘Excellence’ in all they do.

To remind us of these noble objectives, we hard-wire them into our ‘brand,’ our ‘marketing strategies,’ and our logo. We emblaze them on sides of buildings, stationery and walls. We remind ourselves of them every time we come together, be it in a board meeting, an annual meeting of shareholders, a match, or a church service. These words become part of our identity.

But it’s one thing to display these values for the whole world to see. It’s a far greater goal to live up to the labels you give yourself.

Perhaps it would do us well–and the organisations, companies, and associations to which we belong–not to be so adamant in putting a label on ourselves or our organisations, but aspiring to live out those values in what we do and how we treat one another every day.

The Purpose of the Enneagram

enneagrem_numbersI have always been fascinated by personality tests. From Tim LaHaye’s Spirit-Controlled Temperament in my early years to the Enneagram in my professional years, I have never ceased to be amazed how these contrived tests seem to pin me down so well. Being a Type 1 (with elements of Type 4) on the Enneagram, I am well aware of my strengths and weaknesses and, as is the usual use, have used these results to pigeonhole my character and fine-tune my strengths.

But this may not be a good purpose for the Enneagram, as Richard Rohr explains:

The purpose of the Enneagram is not self-improvement, which would be our ego’s goal. Rather, it is the transformation of consciousness so that we can realize our essence, our True Self. Personality development and character building will happen on the side as a corollary, but this is not its primary goal. The primary goal of any spiritual tool is union with God/Truth, and then we get united with ourselves in the process!

The Enneagram reveals that we are often destroyed by our gift! We overidentify with our strengths and they become their own set of blinders. This allows real misperception, and allows our own “root sin” to remain mostly hidden from us. We cannot see the air we are breathing all the time. Our “sins” are the other side of our gift. They are, in fact, the way we get our energy. They “work” for us (at least we think they do). The Enneagram uncovers this false energy source for us and enables us to look our real dilemma in the eye. It confronts us with the compulsions and laws under which we live—usually without awareness—and it invites us to go beyond them and take steps into a real domain of freedom—freedom from our foundational addiction to our self.

enneaw-namescolorPeople who know the Enneagram in a superficial way, or who are just beginning to work with it, may think it puts people into boxes. But in fact, one of the great graces is that they find themselves coming out of their own self-created box because they recognize their box is far too limiting. Also, as they continue to work with the Enneagram, they will see its brilliance and that there is always another level of discovery—and then another level that comes as a surprise and usually a humiliation too. That tells them they are in the realm of soul and mystery, if mystery means something that is eternally knowable and soul is their very connection to God.

The Enneagram, like the Spirit of Truth itself, will always set us free, but first it will make us miserable! Working with the Enneagram is intentionally humiliating. We need to feel, acknowledge, and see how exaggerated, excessive, and absurd our false energy source really is. If we own and take responsibility for our darkness, if we feel how it has wounded us and others, how it has allowed us not to love and not to be loved—if we do that, I promise that we will become alert to the other side, to our greater gifts, and even the actual depth of our gift. Our gift is amazingly our sin sublimated and transformed by grace. What a surprise this is for most people!

Adapted from The Enneagram: A Christian Perspective, pp. 4-5, 25-27