The following is an article that I submitted for the May issue of The Window, the monthly newsletter of First Unitarian Congregation of Waterloo.
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First of all, I should clarify that this is not an announcement about a new dating service for singles here at First Unitarian, as could be construed by the title. (Word has it, though, that setting up such a program is in the job description for our new full-time minister…okay, I’m kidding.)
Does God have a plan for our lives? If you were to ask me this question 15 years ago, I would have answered yes. I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian church in a small town and went to Bible college here in Kitchener. I had very little doubt throughout my childhood and teenage years that God (who I viewed as a super-natural Person in the sky,) knew everything about my life from the beginning of time. The Bible told me that before I was born, God knit me together in my mother’s womb, and therefore God knew what I would look like. He – of course he – also knew what kind of job I’d have, the name of my future wife (he’s taking his sweet time with that one!) and if I’d have any kids. He had “a plan,” and it was my job to make sure that I was living within that plan. I would often close my eyes and pray that he would reveal his plan to me, and that I’d do a better job of living according to his plan. Of course there were questions that would pop into my head from time to time; for instance, if God knew everything before it happened, then he knew that certain people would reject him and therefore end up in Hell. Why, then, would God create these people in the first place? And today, several years after being so certain about fundamentalist Christian doctrines, I have serious questions for this God (if, that is, this type of God exists.) For example, if God knows everything beforehand, how do we explain babies born with deformities or diseases? What about car crashes that kill mothers of young children, or other things that happen on a daily basis? I used to hear, and tried to believe, that we couldn’t know the mind of God or that “everything has a reason.” The former answer sounds like a cop-out to me, and the latter one is just plain annoying.
So what do I believe today, and what am I experiencing? I have been thinking of the idea that we are co-creators with the divine (whom I no longer view as being a male necessarily, by the way.) Rather than being subject to God’s will or trying to make sure that we are within God’s plan, perhaps we are partners with the divine, creating the kind of life we want to have. I rather like the idea that perhaps our relationship with the divine is similar to that which is experienced between lovers. Author Marcus Borg speaks of the idea that we live within God, as if the divine were an ocean, and all of us are swimming in it. He refers to the Biblical verse that states, “In him we live, and move, and have our being.” This is an idea that has resonated with me during the last year or so on my journey. But I find myself being called to go farther, to ask the question, “what if?” What if there really isn’t or need not be a separation between ourselves and the divine? A short while ago I believed that perhaps just as Jesus was able to say that he was one with the Father, maybe we could make the same statement (albeit with different language perhaps.) What if we are just unaware of our divine nature, rather than being separate from the divine? What if the evolution of humanity is leading me, calling me to realize that I don’t need God to come and enter my life; rather, perhaps she is already right here, right now, and my job is to wake up to that reality.
But what of God’s plan, then? Is there nothing mysterious or magical about life? If we are creating life as partners with, or as divine beings, is there anything to marvel at or be surprised by?
In the last year or so, I have been noticing more surprises in my life. Or, if you like, perhaps they are divine connections. One illustration of this has to do with how I came to attend this congregation. In January of 2007, after several years of not attending services anywhere, I decided it was time to start looking for a church again. I chose a United church and the Unitarian congregation as candidates for where I would go on that first Sunday back to church. I chose the united church, and though the minister seemed nice and enthusiastic, by the end of the service I had decided that it wasn’t what I was looking for at the moment. But one of the greeters afterward encouraged me to sign the guestbook. Upon doing so, I saw that one of the people visiting that Sunday was Felicia Urbanski, minister at First Unitarian. I thought this was rather odd, as I had been debating between the church she ministered at and the one I was standing in. The following week, or shortly thereafter, I walked into the church on Dunbar, and it didn’t take long to feel welcome. I felt and still feel, that this was a good place for me to be at this point on my journey. I have met a lot of people, including Felicia, whose insight and friendship has enriched my journey. Was this just a co-incidence? Over a year later, I decided to look for a spiritual director to guide me along my journey. Upon google-ing “spiritual directors” and “Kitchener,” whose name should come up? The minister from the same United church that I attended that first Sunday. Now the two of us meet regularly.
There are many more examples of “co-incidences” that seem a little too co-incidental to me. Is it the plan of a supernatural God, unfolding something that “he” knew would occur from the beginning of time? Personally, I don’t think so. God, to me, is not someone imposing a plan on humanity, and life isn’t a paint-by-numbers affair that we are merely filling in.
I don’t think that it is our job to approach God with heads bowed and eyes closed necessarily, hoping for intervention that is entirely beyond ourselves. Rather, we walk as people who are intimately connected with the divine, perhaps more so than we currently realize. We journey on, eyes open, gaze set forward. And as we cultivate awareness of our place within the divine and vice versa, mysteries are seen, inspiring moments occur throughout our days, and here we experience divine connections.
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Monday, April 21, 2008
Friday, April 4, 2008
You Are.
So here I am at Starbucks, which, again, is nothing unusual. But it’s Starbucks inside Chapters…okay, again nothing particularly out of the ordinary. How about that it’s the Chapters at the corner of Richmond and John in Toronto? Okay, nothing…so get on with it Mark! Okay, how about this…Justin Trudeau just walked by. And if you don’t know who Justin Trudeau is, either you’re just not into Canadian politics, or you’re cooler than me – most likely both.
But regardless of who you are…psst…You Are Wonderful.
Really. It’s true. I’m sorry if you’ve tried really hard not to be, or if everything you’ve ever come to believe about yourself is to the contrary. But right there, right where you are – not who you were a few years ago, not who you might be when you graduate or find a better job or a mate – right there, right now, you are wonderful. You are a jewel that is waiting to be discovered, if it hasn’t been already.
Inside of you there is a soul like no other that has ever existed. Ever. You are valuable, no matter what you have heard, no matter what life has thrown on you.
And there may very well be a lot that has been thrown your way, much that you’ve been told. You’ve heard it from parents, you’ve heard it from school-mates. Maybe you’ve heard it from clergy, or from the television. Maybe you’ve heard it from the mirror. And you’ve listened to it for far too long. But now life is calling you.
You are called to wake up from a very long sleep, to wake up to life, to wake up to yourself.
This isn’t something new that is being brought to you; this is something that you have forgotten. It has always been there. If you are touched or moved by this at all, if you find yourself nodding your head, there is a reason. The reason is not that someone has presented you with a gift, but because life has now come along and helped you to start pulling off all the dingy wrapping paper that has, throughout your life, been confining you.
You are a unique soul that has much to give – or more accurately, has much to be. When you deny yourself, you put yourself through misery and you deny the world of something that no one else – anywhere – is capable of giving.
Two songs that I like at the moment are “Something About The Way You Look Tonight” and “From This Moment On.” Others can copy these songs, but they will never be the same as Elton John and Shania Twain’s versions. People can try to copy Michelangelo’s paintings on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, but they will never be exactly the same. The effort it took, the place in which it was painted, the moment in history when it was created.
You have a song that no one else who has ever lived can sing. And it is a smash hit. You are a work of art, right here, right now, which no one else can copy. And it is magnificent. You are magnificent.
Pausing for a moment, perhaps I should have used a different analogy. “You are a napkin” comes to mind, seeing as how I just spilled some of my grandé Café Verona onto my shirt. “You are a napkin with fibers like no other napkin.” Okay, okay, enough of that.
But I firmly believe this will all my heart, and I hope you and I can start realizing this and celebrating it. For too long you have tried to get away from yourself, because you bought into the lie or you were tricked into believing that you must become something or someone else. But now you are called by life to stop. To stop thinking that you are needy. To stop reaching out to be something or someone else. To look inside and see the wonderful being that you are, and to move forward from that point, from that place.
The most important journey that you can take is the one within yourself, not to some other destination. And there, right there waiting, underneath everything that has been placed on you or that you’ve placed onto yourself, is someone unique. Right there is someone wonderful.
Take the first step by standing still. Be still and know.
But regardless of who you are…psst…You Are Wonderful.
Really. It’s true. I’m sorry if you’ve tried really hard not to be, or if everything you’ve ever come to believe about yourself is to the contrary. But right there, right where you are – not who you were a few years ago, not who you might be when you graduate or find a better job or a mate – right there, right now, you are wonderful. You are a jewel that is waiting to be discovered, if it hasn’t been already.
Inside of you there is a soul like no other that has ever existed. Ever. You are valuable, no matter what you have heard, no matter what life has thrown on you.
And there may very well be a lot that has been thrown your way, much that you’ve been told. You’ve heard it from parents, you’ve heard it from school-mates. Maybe you’ve heard it from clergy, or from the television. Maybe you’ve heard it from the mirror. And you’ve listened to it for far too long. But now life is calling you.
You are called to wake up from a very long sleep, to wake up to life, to wake up to yourself.
This isn’t something new that is being brought to you; this is something that you have forgotten. It has always been there. If you are touched or moved by this at all, if you find yourself nodding your head, there is a reason. The reason is not that someone has presented you with a gift, but because life has now come along and helped you to start pulling off all the dingy wrapping paper that has, throughout your life, been confining you.
You are a unique soul that has much to give – or more accurately, has much to be. When you deny yourself, you put yourself through misery and you deny the world of something that no one else – anywhere – is capable of giving.
Two songs that I like at the moment are “Something About The Way You Look Tonight” and “From This Moment On.” Others can copy these songs, but they will never be the same as Elton John and Shania Twain’s versions. People can try to copy Michelangelo’s paintings on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, but they will never be exactly the same. The effort it took, the place in which it was painted, the moment in history when it was created.
You have a song that no one else who has ever lived can sing. And it is a smash hit. You are a work of art, right here, right now, which no one else can copy. And it is magnificent. You are magnificent.
Pausing for a moment, perhaps I should have used a different analogy. “You are a napkin” comes to mind, seeing as how I just spilled some of my grandé Café Verona onto my shirt. “You are a napkin with fibers like no other napkin.” Okay, okay, enough of that.
But I firmly believe this will all my heart, and I hope you and I can start realizing this and celebrating it. For too long you have tried to get away from yourself, because you bought into the lie or you were tricked into believing that you must become something or someone else. But now you are called by life to stop. To stop thinking that you are needy. To stop reaching out to be something or someone else. To look inside and see the wonderful being that you are, and to move forward from that point, from that place.
The most important journey that you can take is the one within yourself, not to some other destination. And there, right there waiting, underneath everything that has been placed on you or that you’ve placed onto yourself, is someone unique. Right there is someone wonderful.
Take the first step by standing still. Be still and know.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Sex, Rock 'N' Roll, & Granola
Tonight I find myself sitting in Starbucks, which isn’t all that unusual. What is a little out of the ordinary is that I’m listening to old Christian rock on my iPod – thanks Dave! – and I just finished a fruit, yogurt, and granola parfait, which was undoubtedly over-priced at $3.45. It’s only the second or third time that I’ve bought one, and it stretches me, since I don’t like the word ‘parfait.’ The ‘t’ at the end seems quite useless, unless you pronounce it par-fate, in which case you should just spell it that way.
Anyways, tonight I’m not particularly concerned with the parfait, and I don’t have a lot to say about rock ‘n’ roll. So that leaves sex as the remaining candidate. Sex and, well, God of course, two things I probably spend too much time thinking about.
I’m just wondering if communicating with God is less like sitting across a kitchen table from a man in a suit and tie who is explaining doctrine, and more like making love. I have a feeling that it’s the latter. Of course this picture of God as lover shouldn’t be something completely foreign to us, at least to anyone who has spent a lot of time leafing through the Bible. But perhaps we skipped over the poetry of the Song of Solomon too hastily, or dismissed it as unexplainable or solely about human amorousness – and yes, that’s a word, I just checked. What if the writer is talking about our relationship to God? In any case, it’s a rather awkward part of the Bible if we tend to view all things Christian as G-rated. It’s sort of like sitting down to watch Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears A Who and all of a sudden onto the screen appear two people in a passionate love scene. Anyways, enough about the Song of Solomon. In unrelated news, a barista just came around with samples of Starbucks’ new honey latte. I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I think I’ll need a full mug of it to make up my mind.
Back to the topic of love-making, or, to the thrust of this particular blog post. It seems to me that good sex should be another form of communication, or a sharing between two people. At least I think it’s more enjoyable when both parties are actively involved. One contrary scenario to this is the imposition of one person onto another. I think most of us would agree that if we were to apply this imagery to God’s relationship with us, we’d see it as an unhealthy relationship. Another image that could be used is one of passivity or pretending. Perhaps far too many people feel an obligation to submit and make some fabricated expressions of ecstasy every once in awhile even though they are getting nothing out of the experience. In this scenario only God is enjoying the moment.
I don’t think that God is someone trying to impose himself on us or that the divine needs or wants our attention, adulation, or submission ‘just because he’s God.’ A few months ago I went to hear author Marcus Borg speak, and perhaps the line I enjoyed the most was “I don’t think God gives a damn if we worship him or not!” Maybe God is more interested in passion than merely praise, in love rather than lordship.
I also think that perhaps there is something about sex that makes us more fully human, or expresses a part of our humanity that could not otherwise be expressed. And that’s what a relationship with the divine should do – enhance your humanity rather than diminish it. After time spent in the bedroom (or your location of choice) shouldn’t you feel more like yourself, not less?
Another thought that comes to mind is this: Should anyone feel the need to have a perfect body before heading into the bedroom? I think that if God were a person, she wouldn’t blink at an extra couple of pounds or funny looking feet. In such a way, not one of us needs to feel perfect before experiencing a relationship with the divine.
Anyways, my honey latte is gone, and it’s time to head home. Just a few thoughts on a Monday night at Starbucks.
Anyways, tonight I’m not particularly concerned with the parfait, and I don’t have a lot to say about rock ‘n’ roll. So that leaves sex as the remaining candidate. Sex and, well, God of course, two things I probably spend too much time thinking about.
I’m just wondering if communicating with God is less like sitting across a kitchen table from a man in a suit and tie who is explaining doctrine, and more like making love. I have a feeling that it’s the latter. Of course this picture of God as lover shouldn’t be something completely foreign to us, at least to anyone who has spent a lot of time leafing through the Bible. But perhaps we skipped over the poetry of the Song of Solomon too hastily, or dismissed it as unexplainable or solely about human amorousness – and yes, that’s a word, I just checked. What if the writer is talking about our relationship to God? In any case, it’s a rather awkward part of the Bible if we tend to view all things Christian as G-rated. It’s sort of like sitting down to watch Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears A Who and all of a sudden onto the screen appear two people in a passionate love scene. Anyways, enough about the Song of Solomon. In unrelated news, a barista just came around with samples of Starbucks’ new honey latte. I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I think I’ll need a full mug of it to make up my mind.
Back to the topic of love-making, or, to the thrust of this particular blog post. It seems to me that good sex should be another form of communication, or a sharing between two people. At least I think it’s more enjoyable when both parties are actively involved. One contrary scenario to this is the imposition of one person onto another. I think most of us would agree that if we were to apply this imagery to God’s relationship with us, we’d see it as an unhealthy relationship. Another image that could be used is one of passivity or pretending. Perhaps far too many people feel an obligation to submit and make some fabricated expressions of ecstasy every once in awhile even though they are getting nothing out of the experience. In this scenario only God is enjoying the moment.
I don’t think that God is someone trying to impose himself on us or that the divine needs or wants our attention, adulation, or submission ‘just because he’s God.’ A few months ago I went to hear author Marcus Borg speak, and perhaps the line I enjoyed the most was “I don’t think God gives a damn if we worship him or not!” Maybe God is more interested in passion than merely praise, in love rather than lordship.
I also think that perhaps there is something about sex that makes us more fully human, or expresses a part of our humanity that could not otherwise be expressed. And that’s what a relationship with the divine should do – enhance your humanity rather than diminish it. After time spent in the bedroom (or your location of choice) shouldn’t you feel more like yourself, not less?
Another thought that comes to mind is this: Should anyone feel the need to have a perfect body before heading into the bedroom? I think that if God were a person, she wouldn’t blink at an extra couple of pounds or funny looking feet. In such a way, not one of us needs to feel perfect before experiencing a relationship with the divine.
Anyways, my honey latte is gone, and it’s time to head home. Just a few thoughts on a Monday night at Starbucks.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
I Believe
The following is a talk that I gave at First Unitarian Congregation of Waterloo on Sunday, March 23, 2008.
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Good morning, and I’m glad for the opportunity to share with you for a few minutes. Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate the holiday in one of its various forms.
As I stand before you here this morning, I can’t help but think back to the days when I would be up in front of a congregation on Sunday mornings or during talent nights performing solos. It was on one such occasion, over 10 years ago now, that I stood in front of my home congregation and sang these lyrics:
Lord I want to be a servant of the King
And I want my life to be inspired by all you bring
But for this I must die
And sometimes it's hard to understand the reasons why
Isn't there some way I can save a piece of me
Isn't there some how you can take this cup from me
Lord I hear you whispering that this is how it has to be
But my God it's awfully hard to say goodbye to me
(Chorus)
Hold me close as I say goodbye to me
Let my heart know that you are all I need
I'll stay right here on my knees
Until I have the strength to say goodbye to me
'cause I'm tired of living somewhere in between
My love for you and my love for me
So take whatever's left of me
I sacrifice it Lord to Thee
Goodbye to Me.
All I can say after that is “My, how things have changed!” I now find these words unfortunate at best, but more-so very offensive. But that is what I used to strive for, to be obedient to a supernatural God, which meant a sort of emptying of myself.
I grew up in a Christian family with strong roots in the church, and I went to Sunday school and church services from the time I was a baby. When I was 7 I attended an evangelistic crusade and at the end of the service I went forward and accepted Jesus into my heart. I don’t remember the sermon, but I remember telling the counsellor backstage, when they asked, that I wanted to be a fireman when I grew up. As I entered my teens, I immersed myself into the Christian culture. I wore Christian-themed t-shirts, and listened to Christian music almost exclusively. Eventually I found myself increasingly in positions of leadership, in my youth group, or on music teams. When it came time to go to college or university, after quite a bit of thought I moved to Kitchener and attended Bible college.
All of my life I identified myself as a Christian. And for me, that meant obedience to God by following Jesus. I heard songs and scriptures that said, among other things, “It’s no longer I that liveth, but Christ that liveth in me,” “Whoever wants to follow me must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me.” And one of my personal favourites was a song that said, “So forget about yourself and concentrate on him, and worship him.” Although I was told by my family and people in the church that God loved me, I also thought that to be Christian was to become less myself and more like Jesus. I believed doctrines like original sin, which suggested that because of Adam and Eve’s sin, all of us were sinful at the core and needed to be redeemed. I had no problem accepting these things.
I would sin, get on my knees and ask forgiveness, get up, sin again shortly thereafter, and be on my knees again. This I would do over and over and over again. I’m a little surprised that my legs are in decent condition today.
I lived this way, trying to be a better Christian, all my life. Until my 3rd year of Bible college. It was then that I entered a spiritual crisis of sorts; I came to the point where I pretty much convinced myself that I had offended God so much by my sin that he had kicked me out of his family and I was now going to be damned. I was in anguish. But finally, the guilt was more than I could bear, and I just had to stop fearing God’s wrath. I let it go. After that, big time questions starting arising. Questions like “Is there a Hell?” and “Could only Christians be saved and go to heaven?” I left college to “take a year off,” and never went back. For quite awhile I still called myself a Christian, but eventually that faded as well. For several years I didn’t want much to do with religion. But I still believed in “something More.” Eventually I decided to start searching again, and thought that finding a church would be a good thing to do. The second church that I walked into was First Unitarian on Dunbar, and here I am today.
Much has changed with me as far as beliefs are concerned. Most of the doctrines I believe are no longer of major concern to me. Doctrines asserting, among other things, that Jesus was the Son of God, that he died on the cross for my sins, that he literally rose from the dead, are either things that I object to or am just not crucially interested in anymore.
So what about Jesus then, on this Easter morning? (I am aware that pretty much anyone can make Jesus into who or what they want him to be.)
For me, I find it wholly more wonderful to think that if he lived, Jesus was fully human, born of two human parents like everyone else. It doesn’t bother me to think that he wasn’t perfect. If he was indeed a carpenter and hit his thumb with a hammer, it doesn’t bother me to think of him yelling out an expletive or two. I have no problem thinking that perhaps Jesus was married or had children (though it really doesn’t matter to me.) I do not think that it is my or anyone else’s job to be what I like to call “Jesus-clones.” In fact, I tend to think that if Jesus were to walk into most churches today, he’d say “What is going on here?” I’m not the point!” I think of the verse in the Bible that has a man referring to Jesus as “Good Teacher.” Jesus responds by saying, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.” That doesn’t sound like a person who considers themselves to be an Almighty God paying a visit to his creation.
So what is the point of Jesus? Why did people around him identify him with God, how did they come to call him the Son of God? What can I learn from this person? I believe that Jesus was about wholeness, reaching out to those who were cast aside by society. I believe that Jesus was probably more aware of the connection between the divine and the human than perhaps anyone around him in his time, or at least among those who lived around him. He was so aware of the divine in him that he was able to make statements such as “I and the Father are one,” and “if you’ve seen me you’ve seen the Father.”
I believe that you and I can say the same thing, though the imagery and language that we use when referring to the divine may be different. I believe the point today is that there need not be a split between the divine and the human. I believe that, rather than being originally sinful, you and I are wonderfully unique beings. Our job is not to “be Jesus,” or our parents, or anyone else in the world we may admire. Our job is to be as much ourselves as possible. I believe that when we reject ourselves or don’t express our unique selves, that we deprive the world and those around us of something that perhaps could not be expressed exactly the same way by anyone else on earth. Going a bit farther, perhaps each of us is a unique window into the divine. I believe that we find the divine when we become more fully human, more ourselves, not less. Catholic writer Henri Nouwen wrote:
“A split between divinity and humanity has taken place in you. With your divinely endowed center you know God’s will, God’s way, God’s love. But your humanity is cut off from that. Your many human needs for affection, attention, and consolation are living apart from your divine sacred space. Your call is to let these two parts of yourself come together again.”
I believe that perhaps we are being called to a new humanity, where we realize that we are one with the divine. We must be courageous. We must say goodbye, not to ourselves, but to all forms of self-rejection. It is time, I believe, to step forward and trust our own inner beauty. Does this mean that everything that we do is good? Of course not. A quick glance at the morning paper or the evening news will tell you that. But you and I are not originally bad, we are each wonderfully unique. When we tap into this and accept it, the way we act will change. We will act out of a place of peace, not rejection.
This Easter, it is my personal wish for myself that I'd realize the wonderful truth that I and the divine are much closer than I once believed.
Thank you.
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Good morning, and I’m glad for the opportunity to share with you for a few minutes. Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate the holiday in one of its various forms.
As I stand before you here this morning, I can’t help but think back to the days when I would be up in front of a congregation on Sunday mornings or during talent nights performing solos. It was on one such occasion, over 10 years ago now, that I stood in front of my home congregation and sang these lyrics:
Lord I want to be a servant of the King
And I want my life to be inspired by all you bring
But for this I must die
And sometimes it's hard to understand the reasons why
Isn't there some way I can save a piece of me
Isn't there some how you can take this cup from me
Lord I hear you whispering that this is how it has to be
But my God it's awfully hard to say goodbye to me
(Chorus)
Hold me close as I say goodbye to me
Let my heart know that you are all I need
I'll stay right here on my knees
Until I have the strength to say goodbye to me
'cause I'm tired of living somewhere in between
My love for you and my love for me
So take whatever's left of me
I sacrifice it Lord to Thee
Goodbye to Me.
All I can say after that is “My, how things have changed!” I now find these words unfortunate at best, but more-so very offensive. But that is what I used to strive for, to be obedient to a supernatural God, which meant a sort of emptying of myself.
I grew up in a Christian family with strong roots in the church, and I went to Sunday school and church services from the time I was a baby. When I was 7 I attended an evangelistic crusade and at the end of the service I went forward and accepted Jesus into my heart. I don’t remember the sermon, but I remember telling the counsellor backstage, when they asked, that I wanted to be a fireman when I grew up. As I entered my teens, I immersed myself into the Christian culture. I wore Christian-themed t-shirts, and listened to Christian music almost exclusively. Eventually I found myself increasingly in positions of leadership, in my youth group, or on music teams. When it came time to go to college or university, after quite a bit of thought I moved to Kitchener and attended Bible college.
All of my life I identified myself as a Christian. And for me, that meant obedience to God by following Jesus. I heard songs and scriptures that said, among other things, “It’s no longer I that liveth, but Christ that liveth in me,” “Whoever wants to follow me must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me.” And one of my personal favourites was a song that said, “So forget about yourself and concentrate on him, and worship him.” Although I was told by my family and people in the church that God loved me, I also thought that to be Christian was to become less myself and more like Jesus. I believed doctrines like original sin, which suggested that because of Adam and Eve’s sin, all of us were sinful at the core and needed to be redeemed. I had no problem accepting these things.
I would sin, get on my knees and ask forgiveness, get up, sin again shortly thereafter, and be on my knees again. This I would do over and over and over again. I’m a little surprised that my legs are in decent condition today.
I lived this way, trying to be a better Christian, all my life. Until my 3rd year of Bible college. It was then that I entered a spiritual crisis of sorts; I came to the point where I pretty much convinced myself that I had offended God so much by my sin that he had kicked me out of his family and I was now going to be damned. I was in anguish. But finally, the guilt was more than I could bear, and I just had to stop fearing God’s wrath. I let it go. After that, big time questions starting arising. Questions like “Is there a Hell?” and “Could only Christians be saved and go to heaven?” I left college to “take a year off,” and never went back. For quite awhile I still called myself a Christian, but eventually that faded as well. For several years I didn’t want much to do with religion. But I still believed in “something More.” Eventually I decided to start searching again, and thought that finding a church would be a good thing to do. The second church that I walked into was First Unitarian on Dunbar, and here I am today.
Much has changed with me as far as beliefs are concerned. Most of the doctrines I believe are no longer of major concern to me. Doctrines asserting, among other things, that Jesus was the Son of God, that he died on the cross for my sins, that he literally rose from the dead, are either things that I object to or am just not crucially interested in anymore.
So what about Jesus then, on this Easter morning? (I am aware that pretty much anyone can make Jesus into who or what they want him to be.)
For me, I find it wholly more wonderful to think that if he lived, Jesus was fully human, born of two human parents like everyone else. It doesn’t bother me to think that he wasn’t perfect. If he was indeed a carpenter and hit his thumb with a hammer, it doesn’t bother me to think of him yelling out an expletive or two. I have no problem thinking that perhaps Jesus was married or had children (though it really doesn’t matter to me.) I do not think that it is my or anyone else’s job to be what I like to call “Jesus-clones.” In fact, I tend to think that if Jesus were to walk into most churches today, he’d say “What is going on here?” I’m not the point!” I think of the verse in the Bible that has a man referring to Jesus as “Good Teacher.” Jesus responds by saying, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.” That doesn’t sound like a person who considers themselves to be an Almighty God paying a visit to his creation.
So what is the point of Jesus? Why did people around him identify him with God, how did they come to call him the Son of God? What can I learn from this person? I believe that Jesus was about wholeness, reaching out to those who were cast aside by society. I believe that Jesus was probably more aware of the connection between the divine and the human than perhaps anyone around him in his time, or at least among those who lived around him. He was so aware of the divine in him that he was able to make statements such as “I and the Father are one,” and “if you’ve seen me you’ve seen the Father.”
I believe that you and I can say the same thing, though the imagery and language that we use when referring to the divine may be different. I believe the point today is that there need not be a split between the divine and the human. I believe that, rather than being originally sinful, you and I are wonderfully unique beings. Our job is not to “be Jesus,” or our parents, or anyone else in the world we may admire. Our job is to be as much ourselves as possible. I believe that when we reject ourselves or don’t express our unique selves, that we deprive the world and those around us of something that perhaps could not be expressed exactly the same way by anyone else on earth. Going a bit farther, perhaps each of us is a unique window into the divine. I believe that we find the divine when we become more fully human, more ourselves, not less. Catholic writer Henri Nouwen wrote:
“A split between divinity and humanity has taken place in you. With your divinely endowed center you know God’s will, God’s way, God’s love. But your humanity is cut off from that. Your many human needs for affection, attention, and consolation are living apart from your divine sacred space. Your call is to let these two parts of yourself come together again.”
I believe that perhaps we are being called to a new humanity, where we realize that we are one with the divine. We must be courageous. We must say goodbye, not to ourselves, but to all forms of self-rejection. It is time, I believe, to step forward and trust our own inner beauty. Does this mean that everything that we do is good? Of course not. A quick glance at the morning paper or the evening news will tell you that. But you and I are not originally bad, we are each wonderfully unique. When we tap into this and accept it, the way we act will change. We will act out of a place of peace, not rejection.
This Easter, it is my personal wish for myself that I'd realize the wonderful truth that I and the divine are much closer than I once believed.
Thank you.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Welcome
Welcome to my new blog. The purpose of this blog is to share some of my thoughts and feelings on spirituality, and to perhaps inspire others on their own journey. Thanks for stopping by.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Come Together
I have always held a keen interest in American politics, particularly the presidential race that takes place every 4 years. Usually on those November nights, the first week of the month, I’ll make sure that I’m in front of a TV, ready for a few hours of watching the results pour in. And so it is that the 2008 race is kicking into high gear, and the contests for the Republican and Democratic nominations are in full swing. This year it seems to be particularly attention-grabbing on the Democratic side, with Hillary Clinton striving to become the first woman president in American history, and Barack Obama looking to be the first African-American president. There is particularly a lot of excitement over the latter senator’s campaign, and the issue that is inspiring people to support his candidacy is that of unity. For Obama is not only reaching out to the Democratic Party faithful, but also to independent voters. Taking it one step further, he is even appealing to some Republicans. Those who even mildly follow American politics knows that the country seems to have been deeply divided politically for years. And so, it is quite intriguing that Obama is strongly emphasizing bringing the country together. Apparently it is a message that voters want to hear, as was proven in Obama’s surprise victory over Clinton, first in the Iowa caucuses, and in several subsequent contests. It was on the night of January 3rd that the Illinois senator was delivering his victory speech to a throng of supporters in Des Moines. The following are three excerpts from the speech:
“We are choosing hope over fear. We’re choosing unity over division, and sending a powerful message that change is coming to America.”
“This was the moment when we tore down barriers that have divided us for too long – when we rallied people of all parties and ages to a common cause.”
“Together, ordinary people can do extra-ordinary things; because we are not a collection of Red States and Blue States, we are the United States of America.[1]”
Obama speaks of something that I’ve been thinking about for several months, that being unity. This has been something that has come to the forefront at several different times in my life.
During my teenage years I was part of the leadership team of my youth group at an evangelical Christian church in rural southern Ontario. We would have discussions about the importance of unity within the youth group, how we could become a closer group where cliques wouldn’t separate some people from others. Speaking of the church in general, on Sunday mornings we would often sing songs with the theme of unity. “I’m so glad I’m a part of the family of God,” and “Bind us together with chords that cannot be broken” were the lyrics of two such songs. Indeed the New Testament speaks of the importance of Christian unity. There are references to the body of Christ, how every Christian is part of this body. Jesus himself is said to have prayed, “that they may be one as we are one. (John 17:11)[2]” Going back to music for a minute, several months ago I was re-introduced to a song we used to sing during chapel services at the Bible college I attended. It was called “Break Dividing Walls,” and the phrase repeated a few times: “We will break dividing walls/We will break dividing walls/We will break dividing walls/In the name of Your Son.” I liked the song for its emphasis on Christian unity. No matter if a person attended a Pentecostal, Baptist, Mennonite, or any other Christian church, all of us had something in common – our faith in Jesus as the source of our salvation.
Now, several years after first hearing that song, I strongly believe that it is time to take the message of unity much farther. There is a passage in the New Testament that says, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28) I believe that unity goes much farther than even this. I agree with Howard Thurman when he writes, “It is my belief that in the Presence of God there is neither male nor female, white nor black, Gentile nor Jew, Protestant nor Catholic, Hindu, Buddhist, nor Moslem.[3]”
I believe that every person who has ever lived and every person that is currently walking the earth has something in common. I believe that everyone has access to the divine, and even more, that the divine is within all of us regardless of age, race, gender, religion, sexual orientation, or economic status. I believe the experience of the divine, or God, is open and available to all. As I was growing up I would hear stories from the Old Testament about what the Jewish people thought they must do to be acceptable to God. These rules seemed unnecessary and even peculiar to me back then from my Christian perspective. It also seemed incredible to me that Catholics had to confess their sins to a priest. Now I am coming to believe that regardless of what religious beliefs one holds, the experience of the divine is available to all. I am coming to believe that the divine lives within each of us. As Jesus was able to proclaim that he and the Father are one, I think that we can make the same statement. The following Scripture passages that I used to find comforting are even clearer to me now:
"Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.” (Psalm 139:7-8)
"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)
The reason that there is no place where we can go where God is not present, the reason that nothing can separate us from the love of God is because God is in each one of us. You and I are a grand mix of divinity and humanity, and there is no need for separation. We could no more be separate from the divine than we could decide that we wanted to change our blood type. The problem, I believe, is a lack of awareness and cultivation. It is obvious by turning on the evening news, opening up a newspaper, or by walking the city streets, that his world is full of brokenness and woundedness. Perhaps the key problem, though, is a lack of awareness, even forgetfulness. We have forgotten that the divine lives within us, coursing through our veins. The Catholic writer Henri Nouwen writes the following:
"A split between divinity and humanity has taken place in you. With your divinely endowed center you know God’s will, God’s way, God’s love. But your humanity is cut off from that. Your many human needs for affection, attention, and consolation are living apart from your divine sacred space. Your call is to let these two parts of yourself come together again.[4]”
I think that a lot of us learn from a very early age that there is a separation between ourselves and God, or that you need to perform tasks in order to be acceptable to God. Instead of possessing the powerful knowledge that God lives within us and that we live within God, regardless of anything, many grow up with the belief that God is naturally against us. Instead of taking joy in our connection with the divine, we grow up striving to impress Him. Some people grow up in households where near perfection is equated with a high level of personal value. An “A” should have been an “A+,” a double that a child hits during a baseball game should have been a triple. Our relationship with God takes on a similar striving quality. However, I believe that the truth is that God is as present and available within those of us who are seemingly the poorest, plainest-looking and athletically challenged as in the richest, prettiest, or fastest person.
Where does this leave Jesus? As I’ve mentioned, I don’t believe that Old Testament laws must be obeyed in order to please God, and I don’t believe that I must confess to a priest in order to gain approval from God. Now I am coming to believe that people do not need to go through Jesus in order to approach God. Rather than being someone who makes us acceptable to God, I believe that in Jesus we see someone who was powerfully aware of the divine in Him. We can look to Jesus as an example of humanity’s oneness with God. This brings me to the final point that I want to address concerning unity.
Most people are taught from a very young age that God is a supernatural person, separate from themselves, and that there are things one must do or things which one must believe in order to be closer or more acceptable to this God. I am growing to believe that there is no such separation between God and humanity. For me, this has meant over the course of the last few years that I have also said goodbye to the notion of a supernatural person in the sky who watches over the world and my life and has a specific, detailed plan for the development of each. This language is no longer helpful to me when I think about God. Coming to this belief has certainly not been easy, but it is one of the realizations that I have come upon on my own journey. To many this means that I have rejected God. I strongly say that this is not true. I very much believe in God, it’s just that my beliefs about the nature of God have changed.
I believe that we are one with the divine. As Nouwen writes, there need not be a split between divinity and humanity. In Jesus we see this unity, and as Jesus was able to say, “I and the Father are one,” we can also speak such words. For me, the important thing is to come to an awareness of this unity. We do not need to plead for it; we do not need to believe a certain religious doctrine. Rather, we must bring ourselves home and remember what we’ve forgotten. Now, this means having a whole new level of kindness toward ourselves, if we see ourselves as one with God, rather than being originally sinful. Perhaps this is one of the hardest things for us to do, to say goodbye to self-rejection. (As a side note, one of my thoughts recently has been that perhaps each of us are indeed unique expressions of the divine, and as we experience life, the divine experiences life. As we touch the world, as we touch life, the divine touches life.)
In conclusion, I will continue to watch with interest as Senator Obama keeps traveling across America with his message of unity, and more importantly, I will keep trying to learn about unity between all people, and between humanity and the divine.
______________________________________________
[4] Henri J.M. Nouwen, “Cry Inward,” in The Inner Voice of Love (New York, NY: Image, 1996), 7.
“We are choosing hope over fear. We’re choosing unity over division, and sending a powerful message that change is coming to America.”
“This was the moment when we tore down barriers that have divided us for too long – when we rallied people of all parties and ages to a common cause.”
“Together, ordinary people can do extra-ordinary things; because we are not a collection of Red States and Blue States, we are the United States of America.[1]”
Obama speaks of something that I’ve been thinking about for several months, that being unity. This has been something that has come to the forefront at several different times in my life.
During my teenage years I was part of the leadership team of my youth group at an evangelical Christian church in rural southern Ontario. We would have discussions about the importance of unity within the youth group, how we could become a closer group where cliques wouldn’t separate some people from others. Speaking of the church in general, on Sunday mornings we would often sing songs with the theme of unity. “I’m so glad I’m a part of the family of God,” and “Bind us together with chords that cannot be broken” were the lyrics of two such songs. Indeed the New Testament speaks of the importance of Christian unity. There are references to the body of Christ, how every Christian is part of this body. Jesus himself is said to have prayed, “that they may be one as we are one. (John 17:11)[2]” Going back to music for a minute, several months ago I was re-introduced to a song we used to sing during chapel services at the Bible college I attended. It was called “Break Dividing Walls,” and the phrase repeated a few times: “We will break dividing walls/We will break dividing walls/We will break dividing walls/In the name of Your Son.” I liked the song for its emphasis on Christian unity. No matter if a person attended a Pentecostal, Baptist, Mennonite, or any other Christian church, all of us had something in common – our faith in Jesus as the source of our salvation.
Now, several years after first hearing that song, I strongly believe that it is time to take the message of unity much farther. There is a passage in the New Testament that says, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28) I believe that unity goes much farther than even this. I agree with Howard Thurman when he writes, “It is my belief that in the Presence of God there is neither male nor female, white nor black, Gentile nor Jew, Protestant nor Catholic, Hindu, Buddhist, nor Moslem.[3]”
I believe that every person who has ever lived and every person that is currently walking the earth has something in common. I believe that everyone has access to the divine, and even more, that the divine is within all of us regardless of age, race, gender, religion, sexual orientation, or economic status. I believe the experience of the divine, or God, is open and available to all. As I was growing up I would hear stories from the Old Testament about what the Jewish people thought they must do to be acceptable to God. These rules seemed unnecessary and even peculiar to me back then from my Christian perspective. It also seemed incredible to me that Catholics had to confess their sins to a priest. Now I am coming to believe that regardless of what religious beliefs one holds, the experience of the divine is available to all. I am coming to believe that the divine lives within each of us. As Jesus was able to proclaim that he and the Father are one, I think that we can make the same statement. The following Scripture passages that I used to find comforting are even clearer to me now:
"Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.” (Psalm 139:7-8)
"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)
The reason that there is no place where we can go where God is not present, the reason that nothing can separate us from the love of God is because God is in each one of us. You and I are a grand mix of divinity and humanity, and there is no need for separation. We could no more be separate from the divine than we could decide that we wanted to change our blood type. The problem, I believe, is a lack of awareness and cultivation. It is obvious by turning on the evening news, opening up a newspaper, or by walking the city streets, that his world is full of brokenness and woundedness. Perhaps the key problem, though, is a lack of awareness, even forgetfulness. We have forgotten that the divine lives within us, coursing through our veins. The Catholic writer Henri Nouwen writes the following:
"A split between divinity and humanity has taken place in you. With your divinely endowed center you know God’s will, God’s way, God’s love. But your humanity is cut off from that. Your many human needs for affection, attention, and consolation are living apart from your divine sacred space. Your call is to let these two parts of yourself come together again.[4]”
I think that a lot of us learn from a very early age that there is a separation between ourselves and God, or that you need to perform tasks in order to be acceptable to God. Instead of possessing the powerful knowledge that God lives within us and that we live within God, regardless of anything, many grow up with the belief that God is naturally against us. Instead of taking joy in our connection with the divine, we grow up striving to impress Him. Some people grow up in households where near perfection is equated with a high level of personal value. An “A” should have been an “A+,” a double that a child hits during a baseball game should have been a triple. Our relationship with God takes on a similar striving quality. However, I believe that the truth is that God is as present and available within those of us who are seemingly the poorest, plainest-looking and athletically challenged as in the richest, prettiest, or fastest person.
Where does this leave Jesus? As I’ve mentioned, I don’t believe that Old Testament laws must be obeyed in order to please God, and I don’t believe that I must confess to a priest in order to gain approval from God. Now I am coming to believe that people do not need to go through Jesus in order to approach God. Rather than being someone who makes us acceptable to God, I believe that in Jesus we see someone who was powerfully aware of the divine in Him. We can look to Jesus as an example of humanity’s oneness with God. This brings me to the final point that I want to address concerning unity.
Most people are taught from a very young age that God is a supernatural person, separate from themselves, and that there are things one must do or things which one must believe in order to be closer or more acceptable to this God. I am growing to believe that there is no such separation between God and humanity. For me, this has meant over the course of the last few years that I have also said goodbye to the notion of a supernatural person in the sky who watches over the world and my life and has a specific, detailed plan for the development of each. This language is no longer helpful to me when I think about God. Coming to this belief has certainly not been easy, but it is one of the realizations that I have come upon on my own journey. To many this means that I have rejected God. I strongly say that this is not true. I very much believe in God, it’s just that my beliefs about the nature of God have changed.
I believe that we are one with the divine. As Nouwen writes, there need not be a split between divinity and humanity. In Jesus we see this unity, and as Jesus was able to say, “I and the Father are one,” we can also speak such words. For me, the important thing is to come to an awareness of this unity. We do not need to plead for it; we do not need to believe a certain religious doctrine. Rather, we must bring ourselves home and remember what we’ve forgotten. Now, this means having a whole new level of kindness toward ourselves, if we see ourselves as one with God, rather than being originally sinful. Perhaps this is one of the hardest things for us to do, to say goodbye to self-rejection. (As a side note, one of my thoughts recently has been that perhaps each of us are indeed unique expressions of the divine, and as we experience life, the divine experiences life. As we touch the world, as we touch life, the divine touches life.)
In conclusion, I will continue to watch with interest as Senator Obama keeps traveling across America with his message of unity, and more importantly, I will keep trying to learn about unity between all people, and between humanity and the divine.
______________________________________________
[1] Barack Obama, Remarks of Senator Barack Obama: Iowa Caucus Night, Des Moines, 3 January 2008.
[2] All Scripture verses are taken from the New Revised Standard Version.
[4] Henri J.M. Nouwen, “Cry Inward,” in The Inner Voice of Love (New York, NY: Image, 1996), 7.
Monday, December 24, 2007
God With Us - Christmas Eve 2007
It has been several years now since Christmas has held very much of a religious significance for me. Growing up, I have fond memories of Sunday School Christmas programs, where us kids would put on a Christmas play. One year I played the role of one of the wise men, and I remember that a small bottle of Aqua Velva served as my gift of myrrh. A bath robe would suffice when I needed a shepherd outfit. Then there were the Christmas Eve services, which would include the singing of carols and usually the lighting of hand-held candles. I particularly enjoyed attending late-night candlelight services. When I was a kid, and as I grew into my 20’s, Christmas for me was the recognition or celebration of the birth of Jesus in a lowly stall in Bethlehem. It was about the arrival of the Son of God, conceived of the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary. He was sent from Heaven to earth to save humanity from our sins.
As I continued farther into my 20’s, things started to change. I could no longer believe certain previously held viewpoints such as the existence of a literal everlasting hell, the notion of original sin, or that Jesus was the only way to heaven. So, what to do with Christmas? If humanity was not originally sinful, what was the purpose of Jesus? Even more, if there was no eternal damnation for us to be saved from, what did we need Jesus for at all? For a few years, Christmas was mostly about time spent with family. The themes of love and peace still resonated with me, and I still went to Christmas services, but I didn’t know what to make of the story of Jesus.
And now, here we are on Christmas Eve 2007. If I can’t be home with family, perhaps the next best place to be is here at Starbucks with a grandé Christmas blend.
So what does Christmas mean for me this year? Throughout the course of this year I have started to explore again what I believe when it comes to spiritual matters. And what conclusions have I come to? My first response would be to say that I don’t think it is necessary to rush to conclusions. I’m much more comfortable seeing life as a mystery to be experienced rather than a problem to be solved. While I have been learning things and examining what I believe, I am learning to be comfortable with my beliefs not having to be concrete. They are a work in progress, and I think that will always be so as long as I live. That doesn’t mean that we can’t have strongly held beliefs about certain things, I just think we need to be flexible, be content to be on a journey, and be willing to make changes when needed.
What do I believe about Jesus this Christmas Eve? It does not matter to me that I hold firm beliefs about who Jesus was. It does not worry me very much if I believe or don’t believe that Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of a virgin. It does not matter to me that Jesus was or was not perfect from the time of his birth to the time of his death. In fact, it gives me more comfort to think that Jesus was born of two human parents just like me and that he made mistakes. Maybe he threw things at his siblings as he was growing up, got into the odd fight on the schoolyard, or swore when he stubbed his toe. To me the significance of Jesus is that here was a human being, flesh and blood, who eventually came to experience the divine in such a strong way that he could say, “I and the Father are one,” and “When you’ve seen me, you have seen the Father.”
I love traditional Christmas carols. I particularly like a couple of lines from the last verse of “O Little Town of Bethlehem”:
O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born in us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel.
While I don’t necessarily believe that Jesus descended from Heaven or came to make us acceptable to God, I like the thought of God being born in us and abiding in us. I remember in years past being exhorted to “make room for Jesus in our hearts.” The line from “O Come All Ye Faithful” comes to mind: “Let every heart prepare Him room.” I believe that perhaps I can find new meaning in Christmas, and that can include celebrating that in Jesus we see the union of divinity and humanity. However, I think we need to then take the next step of realizing and being glad in the knowledge that God is equally as present in us. To me it is more of a miracle that the divine could dwell inside the hearts, minds, and bodies of fallible, “sinful” human beings, rather than only being present in a perfect human being such as Jesus is often made out to be. I think that when we spend much of our time worshiping Jesus, we miss the forest for the trees. We spend so much time looking at Jesus and trying to emulate his presumed perfection that we miss an equally wonderful miracle. That miracle is that in the midst of our daily lives, in the middle of our complicated, broken lives, the divine is present within us and in everyone around us.
So, this Christmas Eve, I will find a late night church service to attend, I will sing the songs I sang when I was a kid, and hopefully the good news will continue to sink in – that God is indeed with each one of us.
As I continued farther into my 20’s, things started to change. I could no longer believe certain previously held viewpoints such as the existence of a literal everlasting hell, the notion of original sin, or that Jesus was the only way to heaven. So, what to do with Christmas? If humanity was not originally sinful, what was the purpose of Jesus? Even more, if there was no eternal damnation for us to be saved from, what did we need Jesus for at all? For a few years, Christmas was mostly about time spent with family. The themes of love and peace still resonated with me, and I still went to Christmas services, but I didn’t know what to make of the story of Jesus.
And now, here we are on Christmas Eve 2007. If I can’t be home with family, perhaps the next best place to be is here at Starbucks with a grandé Christmas blend.
So what does Christmas mean for me this year? Throughout the course of this year I have started to explore again what I believe when it comes to spiritual matters. And what conclusions have I come to? My first response would be to say that I don’t think it is necessary to rush to conclusions. I’m much more comfortable seeing life as a mystery to be experienced rather than a problem to be solved. While I have been learning things and examining what I believe, I am learning to be comfortable with my beliefs not having to be concrete. They are a work in progress, and I think that will always be so as long as I live. That doesn’t mean that we can’t have strongly held beliefs about certain things, I just think we need to be flexible, be content to be on a journey, and be willing to make changes when needed.
What do I believe about Jesus this Christmas Eve? It does not matter to me that I hold firm beliefs about who Jesus was. It does not worry me very much if I believe or don’t believe that Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of a virgin. It does not matter to me that Jesus was or was not perfect from the time of his birth to the time of his death. In fact, it gives me more comfort to think that Jesus was born of two human parents just like me and that he made mistakes. Maybe he threw things at his siblings as he was growing up, got into the odd fight on the schoolyard, or swore when he stubbed his toe. To me the significance of Jesus is that here was a human being, flesh and blood, who eventually came to experience the divine in such a strong way that he could say, “I and the Father are one,” and “When you’ve seen me, you have seen the Father.”
I love traditional Christmas carols. I particularly like a couple of lines from the last verse of “O Little Town of Bethlehem”:
O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born in us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel.
While I don’t necessarily believe that Jesus descended from Heaven or came to make us acceptable to God, I like the thought of God being born in us and abiding in us. I remember in years past being exhorted to “make room for Jesus in our hearts.” The line from “O Come All Ye Faithful” comes to mind: “Let every heart prepare Him room.” I believe that perhaps I can find new meaning in Christmas, and that can include celebrating that in Jesus we see the union of divinity and humanity. However, I think we need to then take the next step of realizing and being glad in the knowledge that God is equally as present in us. To me it is more of a miracle that the divine could dwell inside the hearts, minds, and bodies of fallible, “sinful” human beings, rather than only being present in a perfect human being such as Jesus is often made out to be. I think that when we spend much of our time worshiping Jesus, we miss the forest for the trees. We spend so much time looking at Jesus and trying to emulate his presumed perfection that we miss an equally wonderful miracle. That miracle is that in the midst of our daily lives, in the middle of our complicated, broken lives, the divine is present within us and in everyone around us.
So, this Christmas Eve, I will find a late night church service to attend, I will sing the songs I sang when I was a kid, and hopefully the good news will continue to sink in – that God is indeed with each one of us.
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