Losing Faith, Finding God (A Reflection)

finding-god-coverIn a course entitled DSM-IV Religious & Spiritual Problems, the psychology course book states, “Loss of faith is specifically mentioned [in the DSM-IV] as a religious problem.” For the person who has seemingly lost faith significant emotional distress is common.

The psychological problem then isn’t the loss of faith, but the distress that is associated with the loss. Yet, the distress surrounding the loss of faith is necessary for healing, for finding the true God. So, before we can help ourselves or someone else who has “lost” their faith, we must first discover what is actually lost. Is it faith or religion; or maybe faith in religion?

My take on the loss of faith, especially as I have experienced it, is that a loss of “faith” is not real. Loss of faith is a painful shedding of something that was illusory to begin with. Maybe the most profound words that have come from Bob Dylan, and he has had so many profound words, are from his song Positively 4th Street:

You say you’ve lost your faith, but that’s not where it’s at/
You have no faith to lose, and ya know it.

The faith most people cling to and hopefully eventually lose is a false faith that provides temporary security, belonging, safety—the answers. It is constructed and though it may fit for a time, it is always uncomfortable. If you grow in authenticity or conversely grow in bitterness, this constructed faith starts to break apart like moth-eaten clothing. Until you lose your false faith, lose the need for security, belonging, safety—lose your need for the answers—then you will never find God.

Thus, what is really lost is faith in institutions, faith in religion, faith in work and money, faith in power, faith in family/identity, faith in ideologies, faith in science and progress, faith in politics and politicians, etc. And losing these faiths is good news because these are all idols—false Gods. These must be shed to find the true God, who is already imminently present to all creation. Jesus said, “… the one who loses their life because of me will find it” (Mt 10:39b). This verse could as easily be written: “the one who loses their faith because of me will find it.”

Loss of this false faith is the process of finding yourself, God, and then, of course, finding real faith: saving faith in the Alpha and Omega.

© Paul Dordal, 2019

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When Did Christianity Depart From Christ? (Reflection)

Jesus-clears-the-templeWe are human beings. Beautiful, but limited. We interpret the world through myriad filters—biological, social, racial/ethnic, gender, religious, etcetera. Thus, we are imperfect and partial in our understanding of many things, especially history (since we weren’t there; and even if we were, we would still be biased). The quest for spiritual enlightenment or simply spiritual growth—to contribute to the advancement of humanity towards the “Kindom of God”—requires that we unlearn (or at least critique) what we think we know and challenge our understanding of our own and our collective history.

How do we unlearn what we learned about Jesus, the Christ, Christianity, and the Church that is either bad religion or bad history, without losing our faith? First, we have to admit that there was a departure, but even if there was a departure, that the body of evidence is sufficient for saving faith. Thus, the evidence of the Scriptures is reliable, but not all Scripture is prescriptive; some of the Scriptures are merely descriptive. Certainly, due to the limitedness of humanity the departure the “Church” took from Jesus occurred almost immediately after his death. This was due, in part, by the dogmatizing of that which was simply descriptive in the oral tradition.

“The disciples were first called Christians at Antioch” (Ac 11:26) is a well-known Scripture, which seems to suggest that the dogmatic constructs of the first believers were starting to come together very soon after the death of Jesus. (Nevertheless, the original use of the term Christian was likely an epithet and not a term of endearment or classification). These new “Christian” groups believed differently from the Jewish religion from which they sprang.  Hence, the Christian religion began to move away from its Jewish roots quite quickly after Jesus died. This is the first departure since Jesus was, in fact, Jewish. Of course, that is not an inherently negative statement; it’s just a reality.

There was another sharper break, of course, at the Council of Nicaea, which codified the divinity of Jesus, but, for all intents and purposes, left out Jesus’s life and his humanity in its formulations. To their credit the Church quickly wrestled, albeit only intellectually, with Jesus’s humanity at the Council of Chalcedon just seventy years after Nicaea/Constantinople. Unfortunately, to this day the Nicene Creed guides the Church’s core beliefs, whether one believes in creeds or not. (I am tempted to put the texter’s letters LOL at the end of this last sentence.)

Of course, the Reformation (16-17c) and the subsequent era of Enlightenment (17-18c) further intellectualized the Christian religion, not that theologians before then had not already begin to scholasticize the faith (13-14c). The so-called progress of the understanding of the faith to my thinking really moved the followers of Jesus the Christ away from Jesus the man towards an idealized and supernatural version that would be hard to grasp as real. Though I am not anti-intellectual, I am cynical of linear understandings of progress. (Civilization may be the problem, not the solution to the advance of humanity). A quick study of history shows that progress is quite relative and subjective. Yet history, through its limited and dependent communicative voice, generally attempts to classify progress as foundational and objective. History personified believes itself neutral, but it is as compromised and biased as you and I are.

Today, we are so far from Jesus that the average person clearly knows that what we call Christianity, as a whole, is a severe aberration of its origins (or originator). The Scriptures are used like a giant power tool by witting or unwitting Church leaders to maintain a perspective that requires obedience and discourages critique. But, if we are to truly follow the example of Jesus, then it seems, from [hi]story, that one of our main functions as believers is to critique religion—yes, even, critique all history as the instrument of the powerful to control the weak.

So, now the inductive story: I was “doing my devotions” the other day, when I read about Apollos in a conservative Christian daily “inspirational” reading guide. Here is the [hi]story of Apollos from a self-described literal English translation of the Bible: “Now a Jew named Apollos, an Alexandrian by birth, an eloquent man, came to Ephesus; and he was mighty in the Scriptures. This man had been instructed in the way of the Lord; and being fervent in spirit, he was speaking and teaching accurately the things concerning Jesus, being acquainted only with the baptism of John; and he began to speak out boldly in the synagogue. But when Priscilla and Aquila heard him, they took him aside and explained to him the way of God more accurately. And when he wanted to go across to Achaia, the brethren encouraged him and wrote to the disciples to welcome him; and when he had arrived, he greatly helped those who had believed through grace, for he powerfully refuted the Jews in public, demonstrating by the Scriptures that Jesus was the Christ” (Ac 18:24-28).

The perspective of the reading guide on this particular day was that somehow Apollos was deficient in his understanding of the Lord. He only knew “the baptism of John,” and needed to be corrected to know that Jesus was indeed the spiritual savior of the world—not a leader that would transform the existing world, but a “Christ” who can save some individuals for a future, blissful existence in a far off heaven. Unfortunately, the Jesus who was to transform the existing world failed. Thus, the young Church of Christianity had to transform Jesus into a divine spiritual savior.

John’s baptism, which Jesus also undertook by the way, was a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Lk 3:3). Hmm, sounds a lot like the baptism of Jesus (though “baptism” post Pentecost, or Jesus’s baptism, is interpreted by most Christian groups to involve the reception of the Holy Spirit to become a “saved” Christian). For many Christians today, Jesus’s baptism is an individual’s ritual sacrament (insurance policy) for entrance into a mythically fulfilled Narnia like heaven after death. I believe we desperately need to recapture John’s baptism if we are going to save the Church!

Poor Apollos! He was preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins instead of preaching a Baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. (Another spot for the LOL).

The operative phrase that clearly shows the departure of Christianity from Jesus in relation to Apollos was that St. Luke acknowledges that Apollos “was instructed in the way of the Lord,” but not did not understand that Jesus was divine until he began to “powerfully refute the Jews in public, demonstrating by the Scriptures that Jesus was the Christ” (my underlines). Apollos repented (changed) from his oppressive, hierarchical worldly ways and followed Jesus the man, the inspiration/model for divine humanity. After his indoctrination by Priscilla and Aquila, early church leaders, Apollos “changed” his Gospel to one focused on the divinity of Christ and personal salvation—and abandoned his Judaism to become a true Christian.

Now, please don’t get me wrong, I believe Jesus was and is the Christ. But that is not different than, better than, or a departure from the Jesus who was and is a human. In fact, being able to believe in Christ is a gift from God, but following the way of Jesus is my calling, my duty, my joy and love. I can’t follow the Christ, I can only follow Jesus, the prototype of what it truly means to be human.

Christianity, then, is really just, as the Internet Monk may have coined it many years ago, Churchianity. The Internet Monk seems to have believed that this departure was a post-Reformation event, but clearly, the departure happened immediately after the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Thus, Christianity never really departed from Christ, since Christianity is responsible for the creation of Christ.

The reality, or the unlearning that has to take place, is that Christianity is itself the departure from Jesus, Son of Man, Son of God.

© Paul Dordal, 2019

Yo Soy: La Lucha Sigue

BessettI met a guy recently, and after a few minutes of chit chat about the weather and what ham rig he was running, I asked, like many Westerners might, “What do you do?”  He replied, “I am a farmer.” I immediately thought to myself, quite judgmentally, “No, you are not! I asked you what you do, not what you erroneously think your identity is.” But what came out of my mouth was, “Wow. That’s cool. I’m a city boy.”

Inauthentic much?

In my vocation as a priest, I have always resisted the theologically deduced notion that my nature was somehow changed at ordination, that somehow, miraculously, I became a priest, separate and distinct from other humans. Now, I do believe that being a priest or a farmer or whatever we do is a part of our identities and that we have many other unique aspects to our selves. But isn’t there a real danger that these distinct parts of our understood identity have the tendency to alienate us from our truer selves and also others? That is, haven’t we moved so far beyond our commonly understood interconnected humanity and allowed ourselves to be individually commodified primarily through the hierarchical, patriarchal, racist, and homophobic economic, political, and technological systems which we ourselves have constructed? So, we late-stage capitalist humans have become things and roles and titles and fans and extreme otherness.

Thus, I am a father and husband, a Nuyorican, a Windows/Android guy (who really doesn’t get all those Apple people), a combat Veteran who is an anti-war activist, a ham radio enthusiast, a homeowner (really?), a Mets/Jets/Islanders fan, and though I am straight I have sometimes felt zigzagged, and oh yeah, I am a doctor, a doctor of ministry, no I am a Chaplain, no, I am a priest who is a Chaplain, no, I am the, Grand Poobah, the Chief of Chaplain Services of a large healthcare system.  I could go on and never really answer the question:

Who am I?

This is the question I asked of all the intern/resident Chaplains when I was teaching chaplain classes at the hospital. I would have them write a “Who Am I” one-page paper, and then I would critique what they wrote, saying it was all just pedestrian inanities; where’s the emotion, where’s the humanity, where’s the spirituality? And of course, I could say that I was a confused follower of Jesus, a mostly sad and angry, but grateful, joyful and peaceful broken soul in search of God, and still not get it. The escape hatch might read: “Go Thru Here: I am complex and evolving.” Still pulling levers and making smoke behind the curtain.

So, who does God want you or me to be or say that we are? It is the same question Moses asked of God: Who should I say has sent me? God wants you and I to be who God is: simply, I am. When someone asks you who you are, tell them, “I am.”

Not so easy, huh? Ridiculous even? I know, no one is ever gonna say that. How bourgeois of me to even think about such things? While most of the world is sunk in an intense struggle of either life and death or merely surviving, I would have us asking elitist questions of ultimate existence.

Yet, God does want us to not only recognize, but also to appropriate and to live out that we are, in fact, divine beings and interconnected to all that is. That, at our best, We are. When we can actually become who we were created to be, then the fullest expression of who we are will be the fullest expression of who God is: Love.

Now, I know that I am not Love, but that I am meant to be Love. Nevertheless, the Evil One, who is in the world, is a liar and trickster that tempts us away from who we truly are.  Our whole world system is militating against us from becoming who we are, commodifying us through the death cult of so-called “free-market” capitalism. Knowing and becoming the gods that we truly are will destroy the evil world system.

This is the ongoing struggle we are called to.

That’s why when Jesus only intimated that he was God and that others were too, the opponents of Jesus tried to stone him (John 10:31-35). And when the empire and their co-opted religious puppets convinced themselves that even though Jesus wouldn’t come out and say that he was God, because for others to grasp such a thing is, oh so, difficult, they crucified him anyway. It is a real threat against power for ordinary people to begin to think that they are gods, much less empower them to become who they truly are.

Sorry, Jesus. We can’t be havin’ that.

But wait. Up from the grave, Jesus rose from the dead, because “I am” can never die. The struggle must continue.

And so God says to you and me, “I, the Lord God, say that all of you are gods; now go on and tell all the peoples of the world to become who they are—to immerse themselves in their godness” (Ps 82:6a; Matt 28:19). Sigue!

© Paul Dordal, 2019

Getting Up In The Morning (A Stream of Reflection)

why get upWhen I get up in the morning, I don’t hit the snooze button. I rarely hesitate about getting up. It’s not that there are times I don’t want to get up right then and there. It’s just that I know that it is time to get up. So, I do. [glad].

With the advent of smartphones, I am sure I am not the only one who looks at their neo-idiot-box first thing after waking, much like when I was a smoker and lit up as my first ritualistic morning activity. What do I look at? First my emails, then Facebook, and then CNN. Then I get out of bed. I guess some marketer will be happy to hear that. I am hooked like so many others. Someday, maybe, I’ll throw that fucking “stupid” phone in the garbage where it belongs. [anger]. But for now, at least, I am human, and average, and weak, like so many others living in a self-imposed, but externally built, prison of “needing” to “know” something first thing in the morning. Did I miss something in the last eight hours? No. Nothing’s happened. Thus far some “thing” has only happened a smattering of times in my almost fifty-five years of existence. [fear].

Mostly I get up when the alarm clock goes off because I need to pee. But why not go back to bed, even for a few minutes more, or call in sick? I have tons of sick time saved up. [sad].

I get into my bed at around 10:15 or 10:30 most nights, with the thought that I will get eight hours of sleep, which I won’t because I usually need a half an hour to fall asleep, and I pee at least twice or three times a night. Damn prostate. Damn aging process. [anger]. But I like to think that my sleep routine is very healthy, getting up regularly at 6:15 or 6:30 in the morning.

One of the things I have noticed recently is that the moment I turn off the lights to go to sleep, after checking the weather app on the stupid phone, putting my earplugs in, and pulling the comforter up to my neck, I experience a significant mystical grace. I sigh long and gratefully at the very moment my body is cocooned under the covers. It just feels so good, so peaceful. Are there better words to describe it? Sure, but you have probably felt it too. What does it feel like to you?

Often, when I begin to close my eyes, I reflect on other moments of mystical grace, sometimes in the shower with the steaming hot water beating lovingly on my back, sometimes on the crapper when it actually feels good to shit, [anger at some of you for not liking my using “bad” words], sometimes eating full-flavored food that I haven’t eaten in a while, sometimes looking at pictures of my children when they were really little (or seeing their child-like God-beauty now in their teens), sometimes holding my wife’s hand or feeling her lightly rub my back, or oftentimes when I am listening to music, really listening to it, and imagining I am playing it on a piano in a bar with a lot of sad people drinking dry red wine which explodes like gentle Pop-rocks® on the palette. (I used to drink wine). [love]. I think you get it. There are times when these grace moments are just really real. They are spiritual moments, in which the material world is intentionally interrupted by angelic fairy dust.

But even so, those moments are not the reason I get up in the morning. I’d like to think that I get up in the morning because it is not fair that I get to have angelic fairy dust moments regularly in my life and millions, maybe billions do not. In my self-righteous, morally superior inauthenticity, I believe I wake up in the morning to struggle on behalf of the poor and downtrodden, the marginalized and the oppressed. Maybe so. Maybe even altruistically so. But it is just not so, not completely, at least. [sad].

The reason I get up in the morning may have to do more with shame and guilt or pride or something not so bright, but not so shadowy either. Maybe it’s filial piety. I have responsibilities to my wife and children. I covenantally married her and brought our kids (half-way, I suppose) into the world. That’s noble and true, but it’s not on my mind, or, at least, not on my conscious mind when I get up. I know and am certain, that I am not like others who get up simply because there is an animal instinct to get up—to simply survive. But, because I don’t like the sound of that, it must be at least partially true. There are members of my meandering family who just get up every day. And like the existentialists of the mid-twentieth century, I sometimes ask why don’t they just kill themselves. For millions and billions of people, there is just no reason to wake up. [very sad; depressed?].

Ah, but love. Love gets us up, doesn’t it? [disgust]. No, I do believe love is real. It is also angelic fairy dust. It is also God. But what is it? Why can’t I reproduce it more consistently? The mystics write about it all the time, but much of those writings feel like a novel to me. So, I call bullshit on a lot of it. [anger]. Not because I haven’t experienced love or I can’t experience it now or develop more of it, but because I probably have a mental illness, but maybe not. Maybe I just want to avoid the experience of pain like every other fucking bourgeois American. [sad].

Do you like or love your job? Good for you. [disgust]. That’s probably why you get up in the morning (maybe you’re a drone). I don’t mind my job. I don’t love it, that’s for sure. I need it, for goodness sake, even if the boss supposedly needs me more than I need him. I know I am, as Karl Marx noted, primarily, a homo-faber, a working-man, but in this post-apocalyptic technological age, it just isn’t easy to see how going to work eight hours a day, forty hours a week, fifty weeks a year, and 2,500 weeks a lifetime is a motivating reason to get up every day. Talk about a fucking prison. [anger]. But, since I know I “have to” go to work, I do get up. Yet, I don’t live to work.

So, what about on my days off. Why don’t I just stay in bed for two days a week?

I like doing the crossword. [Read this sentence embarrassed with an inflection going up towards the end of the sentence].

I like the online USA Today crossword because it’s timed. When I am focused and centered—mindful—I can do it in five to seven minutes. When I am stressed, distracted, or worried it’ll take me ten or twelve. It usually takes me eight to nine minutes. I actually consciously think about doing the crossword when I get up on my two days off. [glad]. Senseless and pure! Coffee works the same way for me on my days off. I get to drink it in a ceramic mug, instead of my metallic (tasting) travel carafe, I use on work days. [glad].

Nevertheless, when I see you in the morning (any you, but especially if you are a you I know), I am genuinely happy to see you. I will greet you with a hearty good morning, and I mean it. You make me feel, maybe not like dancing, but at least legitimately alive. [love]

There is also a weird “feeling” piece to getting up, maybe a huge piece of the puzzle, I just can’t finger it, that provides me an ontologically motivating understanding that human existence is itself a struggle worth living. [What?].

Curiosity may kill the proverbial cat, but I know curiosity gives birth and zoe life to the human soul. The struggle is for the harder questions that remain, the fleeting question of love, the utopian question of justice—just the fucking questions are good enough, damn it—being filled with anger, passion, shame, guilt, sadness, love—all the moral emotions that drive the bus to the next stop on a journey that must be going somewhere. It must be. I just know it. God. [anger]. [love]. [peace]. [joy].

And I am going to get up and get on that bus every morning. Even if I don’t know where it is going. [peace].

© Paul Dordal, 2019

Soul Kitchen – A Parable

Soul-KitchenJuly 6, 1971 – Los Angeles, CA

Two teenagers were sitting in a grungy coffee shop called the Soul Kitchen in south LA. One of them was weeping; the other was downcast. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things, a man in his thirties, a hippie, walked in and sat in the booth behind the teenagers. They did not recognize the man because of their bleary eyes.

The man overheard the teenagers conversation and asked, “What are you discussing together?”

They were shocked at the question. One of the teenagers asked, “Did you not see the news or read the papers? Are you from another planet, dude? Didn’t you hear about the thing that happened the other day?”

“What thing,” the man asked?

“About the Prophet. He died in Paris on Friday. The world couldn’t handle him. He was killed by the evil of this world. We thought he was the One. And the crazy thing is now they can’t find his body. Some people say he is not dead, but we saw the pictures. We heard the witnesses. But now some are saying he is alive. They even went to the morgue and the Prophet wasn’t there.”

“Man, you guys are dense,” the hippie man said. “Don’t you know that the Prophet wasn’t made for this ‘world’—that the Prophet is immortal and all the prophecies from all the Books have attested to this Truth. The Prophet cannot die.”

The young teenagers asked the man to sit with them at their table.

When the man sat with them, he ordered some French fries and a beer. After the fries arrived he gave thanks for his food and broke some of the larger fries and shared them with the teenagers.

After eating with the teenagers, suddenly their souls were opened and they realized that they were in the presence of the Prophet. They remembered the words from one of the ancient Psalms, “Well, I woke up this morning and got myself a beer” (RB 4:1).

Just then the man got up to leave and the teenagers asked, “Hey what’s your name?”

“John.”

“John, what? What’s your last name?”

“Doe, John Doe.”

The teenagers were amazed. And the man disappeared from their sight.

Immediately, the teenagers got up and ran to find their friends. “It is true! The Prophet has risen, He is alive.” Then the two told what had happened at the coffee shop, and how the Prophet was recognized by them when he broke the French fry and drank the beer.”

————————————

© Paul Dordal, 2018

The Incomplete Human: Homo Faber, Homo Sapien, and Homo Adorans in Search of Homo Spiritualis (Reflection)

Miriam_Anselm-Friedrich-Feuerbach1I am indebted to both the brilliant philosophy of Karl Marx and the exquisite theology of Alexander Schmemann for having a chance to reflect today on understanding our humanity, though I am, admittedly, only crudely reflecting anthropologically, and not necessarily philosophically or theologically.

Broadly, the term homo sapien refers to the modern human species as differentiated from earlier hominid species and, of course, other so-called lesser animal species. Homo sapiens were distinguished because of their ability to think critically and to develop complex language. However, this being accepted cosmologically doesn’t tell us anything ontologically about homo sapiens. It doesn’t add anything to the question, why or what is a human? Homo sapien is woefully incomplete as a descriptor of human beings.

For a deeper understanding, we need only to discover that early homo sapiens were already burying their dead in what is likely an indication of humans as religious beings: homo adorans. Whether this is thought to be primitive behavior because of early homo sapiens limited brain development is not so easily proven. The historical record indicates, most provocatively, that to be human is to be religious, that is, to be in awe of a being of divine origin. However, for most mainstream Christian theologians, stuck in a box of magisterial or dogmatic doctrine, this empirical observation may become ammunition for the continued belief in the reductionistic notion, paraphrased from both the Westminster Creed and the Catechism of the Roman Catholic Church, that the chief end of humans is to glorify God. Anthropologically speaking, homo adorans is certainly not the chief end nor the primary distinguishing factor of humanity. It is but one, albiet important, factor. Thus, homo adorans is, as well, limited and incomplete in understanding the ontology of humanity.

This is true, furthermore, because long before homo were sapien or even adorans, they were homo faber—hominid beings who worked with tools and creatively produced. Now, other “lesser” animals did work with tools, but, again, the distinguishing factor here is the significant degree in the difference between early homo and their closest relatives in the animal world. The fact of homo faber may be why Marx has used homo faber as the primary (or even sole) basis for examining the material and historical record of homo sapiens (at first cooperative but then through increasing class struggle). Nevertheless, Christians should not be scared off by Marx’s discarding of homo adorans in favor of homo faber. Homo faber is no more empirical (or material) than homo adorans simply due to the length of time that homo has been involved with an activity. Certainly, the later capacity of homo sapiens to discern the reality of divine transcendence could be considered as empirical/historical evidence of the evolution of the species, not simply metaphysics.

It is homo sapien becoming homo adorans, not homo faber becoming homo sapien, that makes us more human. Yet, from a Scriptural point of view, conversely, we ought not disagree too hastily with Marx, because the Scriptures clearly indicate that immediately after humans were “created” they were put to work: “And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there God put the human, who had been created, to cultivate and keep it.” (Genesis 2:8; 15). Still, homo adorans, though created by a mythologically perfect divine being, is, again, incomplete because “It is not good for humans to be alone” (Gen 2:18). (Being human is “very good,” but it is not good to be separated from the rest of life which is also “good”.)

Thus, it is homo spiritualis that we aspire to, because it is only homo spiritualis whose very existence can be understood to be “inspired” by the breath of the Divine, and it is homo spiritualis who is contemplating ultimate meaning because of her or his inter-connectedness with all of life. It is homo spiritualis that can bring homo faber, homo sapien, and homo adorans to completion. It is homo spiritualis, then, that can mystically and scientifically discern how to live and work in harmony with all of life, politically, economically, and socially. It is homo spiritualis who has the potential to integrate together abstract thought, phenomenon, creative work, and worshipping awe to become truly Human.

© Paul Dordal, 2018

Faith is the Victory (Reflection)

Cornelia PetreaI don’t “believe” in god! To believe in god is to construct a thing, an object. It is to conceptualize an idea and give it a fixed, rigid shape. To believe in god is imaginary; it is childish magical thinking. The god that most people believe in is the god they created or had created for them by another, therefore not the God that created them. Our creeds and religions force feed us a patriarchal notion of god, which unfortunately cannot deepen a connection to God, but only further abstracts the object/idol of our own making.

So, how can I claim to be a Christian and not believe in god. Surely, I must have some belief. No, I do not nor do I want to “believe” in god in that way.

I am, however, distinguishing faith from belief. Faith is the victory, as the old gospel hymn goes. Faith is the actual experience of God. Faith is the know-ing of God (John 17:3), not the thought or idea of god. Faith is the concretizing of the abstract, the process of real-izing the Spirit of God that is within and without. “The Spirit joins with our spirits to assure us of our participation with God” (Romans 8:16).

So, faith does come by “hearing” the Word, even the Christ (John 6:68). It is not a word or words, but the Word or Logos. Faith comes by “hearing” the unconstructed Spirit of God—the real God which is beyond the grasp of language and thought.

Faith is the participation of Christ and our openness to Christ’s active participation in our lives.

Faith is the penetrating energy of Love.

Faith inspires compassionate action on behalf of God’s creation.

It is the God of faith that ought to be obeyed and followed: The God of the Kin-dom.

 

© Paul Dordal, 2018

Suffering Prophets (Reflection)

Emil-Nolde-Prophet-1912I am re-reading Walter Brueggemann’s book Prophetic Imagination with some friends who meet every other week for discussion and breakfast. It is amazing to read a book so many years after first looking at it to see how things have changed in one’s own life.

In the second edition preface to the book, Brueggemann states, “… ‘prophetic imagination’ requires more than the old liberal confrontation if the point is not posturing but effecting change in social perspective and social policy.” This means that if the goal is a societal change, which is what the prophet is calling for, not reform, but revolution, then simply joining a liberal justice group to protest this or that injustice or inequality is not prophetic.

The prophets of old and the prophets of our age were all willing to suffer or die for structural societal change. They didn’t choose or seek out suffering, but they knew that the true prophetic path was one of suffering and self-sacrifice. Moses, Isaiah, Jeremiah, etc. were all willing (albeit reluctantly sometimes) to put their lives on the line for the sake of enacting God’s just and beloved community. Jesus, of course, was and is the exemplar prophet who sacrificed his own life for the whole world.

Martin Luther King said, “A person who does not have something for which he is willing to die is not fit to live.” Certainly, MLK was following the prophetic path of Jesus when he said this. “Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:27). Thus, the prophetic path is not set aside for a group of select, elite individuals or “leaders,” but Jesus is saying that all of his followers will be suffering prophets for the sake of the whole world, for the future City of God.

As we live in the heart of the U.S. empire, whose government is wreaking havoc on the whole world, where are the prophets, where are the followers of Christ willing to go the cross to enact the future City of God, what I have called the Commonweal of Love?

We are at a critical point in history, an opportune time to move the evolutionary process of humanity forward, a liminal period to fundamentally change the social structure from one that oppresses the masses for the sake of the few towards a new society based on meeting the needs of all people. To do that we need those who are called to be prophets to accept their calls to suffer, to sacrifice, and to enact the prayer, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

© Paul Dordal, 2017

Zoe, Agape, Kairos: A Material Spirituality (Reflection)

dance editThe material world is, and the spiritual world is. As we live in the here and now of the material, temporal realm, we, nevertheless, integrate our spiritual, eternal lives in the here and now as well. Spiritual people do not separate the natural from the supernatural; they never negate the physical to validate the metaphysical.

Yet, the body is barren without the breath of the spirit (pneuma), as the spirit is formless without the body (soma). Beauty cannot exist without both as the body is lifeless without the soul, and the soul cannot be beheld without the body.

The relational perichoretic of the Trinity brings this notion to the really real—the supranatural. The Father is the creator of biological life (bios) and gives second-birth by the spiritual life (zoe). The incarnated Child takes physical love (eros) and elevates it through the self-sacrificial Cross (agape). The Mother Spirit labors to effect the movement of evolution (chronos) and moves to effect needed revolutions at just the right time (kairos).

Thus, matter/intellect and spirit/emotion are always working together, as positive theses and anti-theses, to generate new syntheses that create the possibility of an eschatologically free, equal, just and beautiful world: The City (polis) of God.

© Paul Dordal, 2017

Multi-Being Vs. Multi-Tasking (Reflection)

being-461780_960_720Recently, I typed “How To Multi-Task” in my web search engine and got back over 10 million hits. Multi-tasking, it seems, is a highly treasured skill. The dictionary says multi-tasking is the ability to “perform more than one task or activity at a time.” Of course, many high-functioning, go-getter-types claim to be great multi-taskers, presumably because that’s what employers and organizational leaders are looking for.

But there is a problem. The human brain was not designed to multi-task. In fact, what is actually happening is not multi-tasking at all, but multi-switching.  “Psychologists who study what happens to cognition (mental processes) when people try to perform more than one task at a time have found that the mind and brain were not designed for heavy-duty multitasking.”[i] Furthermore, research shows that the more we try to multi-task, the less we accomplish. Our brains are designed to focus, not multi-task.

This got me thinking about a sticky note that I have on my computer screen at the hospital where I minister as a chaplain.  The sticky note says,

Ministry Goals:

  1. Be Available
  2. Be Present
  3. Be Not Rushing
  4. Be Intentional
  5. Be Mercy-Full

Those five “be” statements really are what I attempt to be and to grow into being.  When I am with someone or a group of people, I am to a greater or lesser degree “being” with them. So, really I desire to be good at multi-“be”ing, not multi-tasking. If I am multi-tasking, I am probably not being available or fully present. If I am multi-tasking, I am probably rushing.

Jesus perfectly exemplified the “multi-being,” non-multi-tasking lifestyle. When he was told his best friend Lazarus was seriously ill, Jesus stayed focused where he was on the people and mission before him. When he had finished his ministry in that place, Jesus left to go to Lazarus’ home and found that he had died. Jesus wept openly at his burial place, and the people said, “See, how he loved him” (Jn 11:36).  Jesus was always available and present to those who were with him; he was always intentional, full of mercy, and not rushing.

Unfortunately, the typical capitalist business environment of do more, do it perfect, and do it now is antithetical to being human and certainly not multi-being. Businesses and other organizations who desire people to multi-task do not care for their workers. They are oppressing them. And the irony is that it is scientifically impossible to multi-task and multi-tasking actually lowers productivity.  So, let’s promote multi-being, rather than multi-tasking.

And while we’re at it, maybe we could change the name from busi-ness to being-ness.

© Paul Dordal, 2017

Reference

[i] Anonymous. “Multitasking: Switching costs.” American Psychological Association, March 20, 2006. Downloaded on August 15, 2017 from http://www.apa.org/research/action/multitask.aspx.