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“Because sometimes you need a biologist,

and sometimes you need a poet.

Sometimes you need a scientist,

and sometimes you need a song.”

“You, me, love, quarks, sex, chocolate, the speed of light— it’s all miraculous, and it always has been.”

“It’s one thing to stand there in a lab coat with a clipboard, recording data about lips. It’s another thing to be kissed.”

 

 

 

Did any of that get your attention?

 

I've just spent the morning reading a short book I downloaded from the Amazon Kindle bookstore: “What we talk about when we talk about God” by Rob Bell. You can do that sort of thing when you're retired; one of the reasons I enjoy my life out of the workforce.

 

I'm not usually intererested in books on this subject as they are mostly a big yawn. Neither do I often find myself glued to a book, unwilling to put it down (well, actually I was using an ipad, but you know what I mean). Rob Bell has a special gift. He can articulate spiritual stuff like no one else I remember. I kept saying things to myself like: “yep” and “ah hah” as he painted a picture using common life experiences of a God we might be aware of deep inside ourselves, but whom is rarely spoken of.

 

This is not your standard apologetic book arguing for the existence of God. No way. Not even close. For a start it's not even the slightest bit dogmatic (ok, maybe it's there but I didn't see it).

 

Bell doesn't pretend that he has all the answers. He begins from a place of doubt and acknowledges the power of science, the paradox of human beings, and the incongruity of the miraculous, to present a God I can accept. More than that, he presents a God I recognise.

 

He doesn't avoid or undermine science. He celebrates it, along with the wonder and uncertainty of existence. To paraphrase him, science is a powerful tool, but is no arbiter of reality. He points out that we are all 'people of faith', whether we are religious believers, atheists, believers in the supremacy of science, or in the supernatural. He does not attack atheists. He reminds them, gently, of what they have in common with 'believers':

 

“Sometimes people who believe in God are referred to as “people of faith.” Which isn’t the whole truth, because everybody has faith. To believe in God requires faith. To experience this world and its endless surprise and mystery and depth and then emphatically declare that is has no common source, it is not headed somewhere, and it ultimately has no meaning— that takes faith as well.”

Bell is also no usual defender of the status quo, and I kind of like that. I feel a deep resonance between my faith and his ideas:

 

“you can be very religious and invoke the name of God and be able to quote lots of verses and be well versed in complicated theological systems and yet not be a person who sees . It’s one thing to sing about God and recite quotes about God and invoke God’s name; it’s another be aware of the presence in every taste, touch, sound, and embrace.”

How good is that?

 

I have long been a bit of a rebel, uncomfortable with the pietism of a few church people. It's nice to come across a writer who expresses that better than I can.

 

“So when we talk about God, we’re talking about our brushes with spirit, our awareness of the reverence humming within us, our sense of the nearness and the farness, that which we know and that which is unknown, that which we can talk about and that which eludes the grasp of our words, that which is crystal- clear and that which is more mysterious than ever. And sometimes language helps, and sometimes language fails.”

Absolutely! He's talking about the God I have faith in. How come I never thought to say that myself?

Bell goes on to explain the essence of the Christian Gospel as clearly as anyone, and more so than most:

 

“. . as advanced and intelligent and educated as we are, there are some things about the human condition that have not changed in thousands of years. It’s very important that we are honest about this glaring reality. We have progressed so incredibly far, invented so many things, found an endless array of new ways to process and share and communicate information, and yet the human heart has remained significantly unchanged, in that it still possesses the tremendous capacity to produce extraordinary ignorance, evil, and destruction. We need help.”

“. . the counterintuitive power of gospel: When you come to the end of yourself, you are at that exact moment in the kind of place where you can fully experience the God who is for you.”

So, take it or leave it I guess. Believe that you are in control or understand intuitively, as I do, that you are not. Bell would argue that as long as people believe they are in control, God is inaccessible to them. Pretty harsh stuff, no? Probably not what many want to hear. I must confess I have been a slow learner on this issue, having learned what little I have learned after bitter experience.

 

I loved this:

“We’re all, in one way or another, addicts, aren’t we? Some are addicted to the praise of others, some to working all the time, some to winning, others to worrying, some to perfection, some to being right, strong, beautiful, thin . . . perhaps you are enslaved to your own self- sufficiency, or drugs or alcohol or sex or money or food. “

Sort of puts an interesting spin on things, no? Do you think of yourself as an addict? Or do you (unlike me) have it all under control?

 

And this:

“And so we come to the table exactly as we are, some days on top of the world, other days barely getting by. Some days we feel like a number, like a machine, like a mere cog in a machine, severed and separated from the depth of things, this day feeling like all the others. Other days we come feeling tuned in to the song, fully alive, hyperaware of the God who is all in all. The point of the experience isn’t to create special space where God is, over and against the rest of life where God isn’t. The power is in the striking ability of this experience to open our eyes all over again (and again and again) to the holiness and sacred nature of all of life, from family to friends to neighbors to money and breath and sex and work and play and food and wine.”

This is my life! This is how my life seems to me. I think Bell is on to a sublime truth here (and in so many other places in this book). The good and the bad; the sacred and the mundane; the wrong choices; the repeated disappointments with myself and the insight that tells me that nonetheless I continue to matter and that my life is not futile. This is how God is real to me. Maybe my life is not the same as yours. So be it.

 

I recommend this book warmly to you, whether or not you are call yourself a 'believer'. I found his writing honest, generous, challenging, humble and insightful. I hope you too will find it full of 'ah hah' moments.

It would possibly not be a surprise to learn that not everyone is happy about his work.

 

A quick glance through the comments on the Kindle page shows that Rob Bell is not orthodox enough for some and far too 'loose' and liberal for others. For this particular conservative Christian though, who is also a bit of a rebel, and a bit of a mystic, I was reminded that I am not alone in the way I experience God.

 

I thank him for that.

__________________________

 

 

“The peace we are offered is not a peace that is free from tragedy, illness, bankruptcy, divorce, depression, or heartache. It is peace rooted in the trust that the life Jesus gives us is deeper, wider, stronger, and more enduring than whatever our current circumstances are, because all we see is not all there is and the last word about us and our struggle has not yet been spoken. There is great mystery in these realities, the one in which we are strong when we are weak, the one in which we come to the end of ourselves, only to discover that God has been there the whole time, the God who is for us.”

 

 

 

 

 

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Looking into the Pool

I sat down to write this afternoon. A few themes suggested themselves:

Learning to live with disappointments.

A slow learner discovers love.

Experiencing loneliness.

Body image for the unmotivated.

 

All worthy enough, but they didn't make the cut today. Instead I've opted for a bit of reflection.

 

I've noticed that reader feedback and interest correlate strongly with the topic. Things like photography and travel guarantee responses. Discussions on philosophy or spirituality generally less so. We are into secular materialism it seems. So be it. I enjoy a good dose of the secular from time to time, and my share of worldly pleasures as much as anyone. Today though I will tempt being left on the outer by indulging in a bit of reflection on my own spirituality.

(Lake in the grounds of San Soucci Palace. Potsdam, Germany)

 

I live with an imperfect Christian faith; not a bright shiny one. Just like a TV evangelist with an orthodontic smile, I have cracks and defects I'd rather you didn't see. Unlike many TV evangelists though, I mistrust superficial images. I try to avoid them. I'm more of a sucker for sincerity than authority, especially when that authority comes gift wrapped with glitter. One of my favourite stories is the one about the old emperor convinced he is wearing the finest garments, invisible to him but amazingly dazzlingly beautiful to everyone else. Sucked in by his own vanity, he is humiliated with a thud. Does anyone else get a dose of schadenfreude from that tale?

 

I prefer my inner beliefs and values served real, without the garnish or the floss some think makes them more palatable. This isn't just a passing preference. I have been known to irritate and annoy a whole string of people over the years by snorting, eye rolling, shifting uncomfortably, or just getting up and walking away when my bullshit detector redlines. The trouble is and has been that this happens more often than not when a more considered person would hold their counsel, and sit there and nod in affirmation. Now I think about it, maybe that has cost me a few opportunities here and there; and maybe that doesn't matter.

 

You've got it, right? I can be impatient and intolerant when I think I am being patronised or snowed. Something I need to work on I guess. Then again maybe it's a bit late for that. The die is cast I think.

 

So, to return to where I began. My Christian faith is covered with dents and scratches. It's out of warranty and has a lot of miles on the clock. Thankfully no one would believe it's only been used once a week to drive to church. On the contrary, I've never been much attracted by the idea of Sunday Christianity. Although my faith has been miniscule from time to time, and invisible to all but a careful observer at other times, it's well worn and fits me comfortably. I wouldn't have it any other way.

 

I don't get defensive about religious belief. It's an essential part of me and I live and breathe it. My faith is so precious to me that I can't imagine I will ever give it up. Despite that I'll walk away more often than argue about 'religious' stuff. I leave that to the nutters of all persuasions. I don't need anyone else to have the same faith I have. That's up to them. I'm not interested in converting anyone else or convincing them that it's my way or the highway. I don't live in anyone else's skin or walk in anyone else's shoes. I have enough issues with my own life. Why would I want to interfere with somebody else's?

 

I believe that rather than my knowing the truth, the truth knows me. That is enough for me: No piety necessary, no hypocrisy appropriate, no religious ritual necessary. Just God . . . and me, known and loved. I'd probably better add at this point that I am not anti-church or anti-ritual. There's no need to cross my name off the list of church goers and brand me a modern heretic. Good gracious me, no. The church and its rituals and sacraments are hugely important to me. They are not central to my spirituality however. Or, more accurately, they contribute to it rather than define or limit it.

 

I believe absolutely in the existence and majesty of the Christian God. I believe in and worship the Holy Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I believe in and participate in the sacraments sincerely and whole heartedly. There . . . have we clarified that bit? Now, to continue.

 

Can we go back a couple of paragraphs? I don't know the truth. The truth knows me. That pretty much sums up my faith in a couple of short sentences. Comfortable with the assurance that I am known and loved by the creator of the universe I feel pretty much free to be myself (and let everyone else be themselves). Quite liberating really. I could go on about this point but not now.

 

My faith is not bright or shiny. It's real. Blemished and tarnished, marked by lots of tumbles, it is nevertheless a thing of value above all else. It's my assurance, my security and my purpose. It's the only answer I need (or indeed get!) when I ask “why”?

 

I can't say I've worked hard at developing or growing it over the years. It has grown in me despite myself. That's a real puzzle . . . but one I don't agonize over any more. I used try and work things like that out, worrying over whether God was real etc., etc.

 

As I said above, the truth found me rather than my finding it. Maybe that's difficult to understand or accept. After all, we all have a brain and an intellect don't we? I haven't stopped using mine. Not at all. I use it to see the wonder and transcendence of creation as a fully fledged participant. I no longer delude myself that I am at the centre of it.

 

(Holy Spirit sculpture in a church in Marburg Germany. I forget its name)

 

 

So, I hope the dip into my pool wasn't too unwelcome? I would like to hear from you.

 

 

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Richard Rohr on Male Spirituality – A Review

(Nothing to do with the topic really, except a photo of me at a school in Japan, when I was still climbing the corporate ladder )

From Wild Man to Wise Man: Reflections on Masculine Spirituality. Richard Rohr
Published by Franciscan Media (2005)
Available in bookstores or online.

This book is worth your time. The title captures the theme. Masculine spirituality is too often dismissed as an oxymoron, when it is anything but. In twenty five quite short chapters, Father Rohr encourages men to examine their spirituality and their relationships with others. It is suggested that the book would be useful as a discussion starter for a men’s group and I would agree, but it is also quite easily read alone over coffee.

Do yourself a favour. It could be that after reading it, your life will not be the same.

May I begin by saying it is a thought provoking book, but it is not a perfect book? As well as many rich, fruitful and challenging insights there is evidence of some lazy thinking. Father Rohr occasionally resorts to stereotypes and sets them up as straw men (pardon my use of the male – straw persons just doesn’t do it). In Chapter 4 he attacks ‘white male prejudices’ and power structures as symptomatic of a deeply dysfunctional western value system. I understand what he is getting at, but do wish he would show that he realises white males are far from the only ones who carry prejudices. That sort of nonsense is what you find in a lot of contemporary writing, but it is actually quite far removed from his messages about male spirituality. A pity then.
You don’t need to look far in the book to meet terms like ‘oppression’, ‘patriarcal’, and ‘gender affirmative’. They tend to indicate a particular ideological slant of the author and normally I reach for my revolver when I see them. I’m glad I didn’t this time.
I am impressed with Father Richard’s wisdom. However I am just a little disappointed that he has wandered off into liberal, anti-western and feminist belief systems here and there. It detracts from the impact of his message and causes me to be a little wary of jumping into the water and paddling about with him. But maybe a Iittle wariness is no bad thing.

I have cherry-picked a bit in this review. What follows is just a taste: a few quotes and comments. I hope it whets your appetite!

“A masculine spirituality would be one that encourages men to take the radical gospel journey . . . with no . . . need to imitate our sisters or even our fathers . . . Such a man has life for others and knows it. He does not need to push, intimidate or play the power games common to other men”. (Page 11)

One of the recurring themes in the book is that of “androgyny” as the image of divine wholeness. According to Father Rohr, “Androgyny is the ability to be masculine in a womanly way and feminine in a manly way” (Page 18). He talks of the complementary role models of the “strong old woman” and the “kind old man” as goals for spiritually aware women and men to strive for.
So there is something for us men to find in ourselves . . . Our feminine side. Interesting thought?

Male Initiation is a major theme in the book and I suspect there is much to chew on here for most of us. Father Rohr continually emphasises how crucial the initiation process is for men. “The contemporary experience of gangs, gender identity confusion, romanticization of war, aimless violence and homophobia will all go unchecked, I predict, until boys are again mentored . . . by wise elders” (Page 32). Initiation, according to him, inevitably involves leaving the comfort and safety of home and the familiar, going out into a time of testing, and returning with a more complex understanding of your place in the world. Fair enough, I would think. Lest however, we make the common mistake of trying to organise things for ourselves and ‘help things along’, he has a caution for us:
“You cannot get yourself enlightened by any known program, ritual or moral practice . . . the spirit blows where it will . . . All you can do is to stay on the journey, listen to its lessons, both agony and ecstacy, and ask for that most rare and crucial of gifts: . . . faith” (Page 35).

One of the chapters is entitled ‘Separation-Encounter-Return’, where he expands on the idea that many of us remain trapped in spiritual prisons of our own making (I am paraphrasing here but I think I caught the essence of his message). “The difficulty with an affluent culture like our own is that ‘infantile grandiosity’ can be maintained well into late life by money, meddling or moving away.” (Page 39). “Money, meddling or moving away” – I love that! It captures exactly my experience as a school principal of the way so many of us deal with problems or challenges in our lives.

My final quote is even more provocative, but, I think, uncomfortably, devastatingly accurate:
“True wisdom looks amazingly like naïve, silly and even dangerous simplicity – although we would never say it in polite company. The Sermon on the Mount has been deemed poetic nonsense by 95 percent of the Christian establishment for two thousand years” (Page 42). Ouch! But I think he is not far off the mark.

And if that doesn’t ignite your interest, may I suggest you continue to strive for all the goals our culture tells us men should strive for. Work hard, earn money, buy stuff, acquire status, be self reliant, and in the dark of night, ask yourself what it’s all for.

God bless you.

Merry Christmas.