Recognizing the Universal Christ
October 13, 2009
Filed under Bible, Bible Study, Biblical Worldview, Christian Living, Christian Meditation, Christian Mission and Calling, Christian Mysticism, Christianity, Contemplative Spirituality, Cosmic Christ, Creation Centered Spirituality, Discipleship, Divine Mind, Emerging Christianity, God's Story, Incarnation, Inner Light, Issues in Transformation, Jesus, Jesus' Teaching, Mystical Experience, Mystical Spirituality, Mysticism, Paul's Teachings, Sacred Mind, Sacred Silence, Spiritual Disciplines, Spiritual Formation, Spirituality
Tags: Christ, Christian Living, Christianity, Cosmic Christ, Jesus, Paul's Teaching, Universal Christ
L. Dwight Turner
If we read scripture with both diligence and an open mind, we come to see that we humans were created with a purpose and a holy mission from the Father of Lights. We were to be his representatives here on this earth, to have dominion, and to be the spirit-beings through which God’s kingdom principles were translated from heaven to earth. Just because of the Fall and its effects, nothing has really changed. How can I say that? It is simple, actually.
I can safely say that our mandate has not changed because of the work accomplished by Christ, when according to his calling and his mission, he abandoned his Heavenly Home and took up residence here on this world. Through the successful work of Jesus Christ, God reclaimed all that was lost when humankind was exiled from the Garden and sent “East of Eden.” I have little doubt about the fact that we humans, with our finite understanding, have but a faint – a very faint – awareness of the mysteries involved in Christ’s mission to this world in general, and his work on the cross, his death, and subsequent resurrection and ascension. In the words of the Apostle, we see through a glass darkly. We do know and can take assurance of this cogent reality: What was once lost has now been reclaimed by God and part of that reclamation is the re-establishment of humankind’s dominion rights and authority.
Scripture also reveals to us another reality as a result of Christ’s successful mission to earth. Christ is now not limited by a physical human body, nor is he in any way limited by special dimensions as we understand them. Paul tells us in Ephesians 4: 10 that:
And the same one who descended is the one who ascended higher than all the heavens, so that he might fill the entire universe with himself.
We learn here that Christ exists above all things and within all things. His being is pure love and unbridled compassion and in some very real way in which none of us fully comprehend, his being is like a magnetic force, drawing all things toward himself. I am not saying here that everyone and all things will be saved, but what I am saying is all will be drawn to a point of awareness where they will have a clear choice whether or not to accept Christ’s offer. In essence, Christ is now cosmic and universal in scope and in that universal identity has established an ongoing presence and a continual victory.
This biblical teaching is one of the reason why I don’t respond in a negative fashion when any of my friends who are followers of New Age ideas claim “the universe did this” or “the universe presented me with that.” The biblical teaching is quite clear: Christ is the universe and his presence pervades all that exists.
Christ sacrificed much so that we might once again live in freedom and in intimate fellowship with God. Now Satan is forced to operate underground, or in more subtle ways. One of his strategies, as we have seen, is to convince us that rather than joint heirs with Christ and God’s children of the Light, we are nothing more than sinful worms, with no power or status under God. It is a lie from the pit of Hell.
Your choice, my choice – the choice before every believer is whether or not we will live according to Satan’s lie or Christ’s empowerment. As for me, I choose the latter. I will take possession of my status as God’s representative here on earth.
What say you?
© L.D. Turner 2009/ All Rights Reserved
On Vines, Branches, and the Inner Light
August 5, 2009
Filed under Apostle Paul, Bible, Buddhism, Celtic Christianity, Change Your Life, Christian Living, Christian Meditation, Christian Mysticism, Contemplation, Contemplative Spirituality, Cosmic Christ, Discipleship, Evangelism, Global Church, God's Kingdom, God's Love, God's Story, Gospel, Grace, Inner Light, Issues in Transformation, Jesus, Jesus' Teaching, Kingdom of God, Mystical Experience, Mystical Spirituality, Mysticism, Paul's Teachings, Personal Discipline, Personal Growth, Personal Renewal, Personal Vision, Quaker Spirituality, Renewal of the Mind, Scripture, Spiritual Disciplines, Spiritual Formation
Tags: Christian Meditation, Christianity, Contemplation, Discipleship, Mysticism, Spiritual Formation, Spiritual Growth
L. Dwight Turner
Keep watch over your heart, for therein lie the wellsprings of life. [Proverbs 4:23]
Abide in my love….[John 15:9]
For the Christian, these scriptures imply that life is to be lived from the inside out. This is something that cannot be reiterated too often. The wellsprings of life flow from within. Christ calls his followers to tap into the divine source of power residing within. Without this vital connection we can do nothing. It is only by realizing that there exists within us a Divine Light that gives us both life and power that we can begin to accomplish any task that Christ has set before us. If we are to be successful in working with the indwelling Holy Spirit in the process of spiritual transformation, we must have an experiential understanding of the fact that the core of the Christian life involves connecting with the Divine Source, which is the Inner Light.
When this awareness finally dawns in our hearts and minds, we can exclaim along with the apostle John:
See how great a love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God; and such we are. (1 John 3:1 NAS)
What happens when a person begins to abide more consistently in the Light of the Holy Spirit? What sort of changes is wrought in his or her character and what impact does this have on daily life? Thomas Kelly tells us:
They become a holy sanctuary of adoration and of self-oblation, where we are kept in perfect peace, if our minds be stayed on Him who has found us in the inward springs of our life. And in brief intervals of overpowering visitation we are able to carry the sanctuary frame of mind into the world, into its turmoil and its fitfulness, and in a hyperesthesia of the soul, we see all mankind tinged with deeper shadows, and touched with Galilean glories. Powerfully are the springs of our will moved to an abandon of singing love toward God; powerfully are we moved to a new and overcoming love toward time-blinded men and all creation. In this Center of Creation all things are ours, and we are Christ’s and Christ is God’s. We are owned men, ready to run and not be weary and to walk and not faint.
Kelly’s vision of the person abiding in Christ is astounding but not different from what Jesus prayed to the Father in the seventeenth chapter of the Gospel of John. Imagine what it would be like to be touched with Galilean Glories, to be owned men…ready to run and not be weary and to walk and not faint. These truly are the blessings of abiding.
When we abide, truly abide, the living and Word of God becomes a concrete reality in our lives, giving us guidance, comfort and peace. The Living Word becomes a tangible reality, not a distance, broken echo.
When we abide, truly abide, our spiritual life becomes a living organism, not a withering garden. We are grafted to the life-giving vine. Kelly says:
To that divine Life we must cling. In that Current we must bathe. In that abiding yet energizing Center we are all made one, behind and despite the surface differences of our forms and cultures. For the heart of the religious life is in commitment and worship, not in reflection and theory.
And when we become deeply engrafted into the Vine, God speaks to us on all levels, giving direction, comfort, strength and assurance. A.W. Tozer says it well:
He communicates with us through the avenues of our minds, our wills, and our emotions. The continuous and unembarrassed interchange of love and thought between God and the soul of the redeemed man is the throbbing heart of New Testament religion….
So when we sing, ‘Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,’ we are not thinking of the nearness of place, but of the nearness of relationship. It is for increasing degrees of awareness that we pray, for a more perfect consciousness of the divine Presence. We need never shout across the spaces to an absent God. He is nearer than our own soul, closer than our most secret thoughts.
Isn’t that a wonderful thought? Our intimacy with God deepens and our sense of his presence becomes more consistent and less sporadic. In fostering our ongoing connection with the vine, we come closer and closer to realizing that divine light that shines somewhere in the breast of every believer. Tozer speaks clearly to this theme when he states:
As we begin to focus upon God the things of the spirit will take shape before our inner eyes. Obedience to the word of Christ will bring an inward revelation of the Godhead (John 14:21-23). It will give acute perception enabling us to see God even as is promised to the pure in heart. A new God-consciousness will seize upon us and we shall begin to taste and hear and inwardly feel the God who is our life and our all. There will be seen the constant shining of the light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world. (John 1:9)
Sadly, for many sincere followers of Jesus, the Master’s words about being with us always and about his love for us are little more than arid ideas with little emotional, experiential impact. This is due to the fact that so many times we are distracted by “busyness” and spend little time communing with the light and love that are the first emanations from Christ’s being. The only way to rectify this and turn God’s love for us into a living, life-changing reality is through regular periods of quiet communion. Contemporary spiritual director Jan Johnson speaks clearly to this issue, reminding us of the importance of our times of spiritual refreshing:
One of Jesus’ greatest promises was this: “I am with you always.” (Matthew 28:20), but we may not experience this. Instead, we keep praying, “God be with us.” That’s because we are distracted by life’s thousand demands and by our habit of filling in empty time slots with entertainment. Our mind flashes from one thing to another, always occupied. A weekly visit to church can’t begin to penetrate this busyness. Contemplation reconnects us with God in the midst of this scatterdness. Life pulls me in so many directions – between the demands of my work, my husband’s plans, the kid’s needs…..I may say I am “thirsty for God as the deer is for water,” but at the moment I need to get my hair cut. However, when I pause to contemplate and be with God, I sense that this God who holds the universe together can also hold me together. In the quiet, I recall how God has helped me in the past. Without the clamor of demands around me, I remember that I am one God so loves.
Contemplative practice can be far more than a powerful mode of mystical prayer – it can also be an exercise in healing. This is especially true in relation to psycho-spiritual issues. Jan Johnson discusses a few of the ways in which contemplative practice can help with personal healing:
The simple practice of contemplation creates a bond with God in which God can heal the scatterdness of our lives and these other unhealthy spiritual states you may be experiencing:
Spiritual dryness
Guilt and Shame
Lack of Direction and Purpose
I don’t know about you, but in my life, I can relate to all three of these negative psycho-spiritual states. And, like Sister Jan, I have found that contemplative prayer, in whatever form it might take, can be of immense value.
Evelyn Underhill, that master of the mystic life, vividly described the nature of her prayer life in its more negative aspects:
We mostly spend our lives conjugating three verbs: to want, to have, and to do. Craving, clutching, and fussing, we are kept in perpetual unrest. My jabbering prayers have been full of what I want, what I think I should have, and what I want God to do.
Johnson goes on to describe how our self-absorbed prayers have a tendency to lead us down the road of spiritual anguish and despair. In the end, it results in a sense of hopeless desperation and the irony of it all is that it stems from our own misguided notions of what prayer is to begin with:
Imagining He has let us down, we become estranged from Him. In a culture that teaches us to perform for rewards, prayer becomes one more place of defeat and God is one more disappointment. We may even keep going through the motions spiritually – going to church, helping others – but in our heart we wonder, “If God is good, wouldn’t He give me the good things I want? Because He doesn’t, either God is not good, or I’m hopeless….We come to a dismal place because we misunderstand prayer as a means to have our desires fulfilled instead of a place to encounter the compassionate, all-seeking God.
There are times, those special times when I sink deeply enough into the silence, when I come face to face with my own tendency to not pay close enough attention to what is going on in these “quiet times.” I love the way the writer closes out the paragraph with that stinging juxtaposition about whether we see prayer as a place where we have our desires filled or a venue where we encounter the compassionate, all-seeking God.
In his own marvelous and direct way, Steve Brown shares with us the fact that he, like so many Christians, was well educated about the realm of the spirit, even that quiet center that so many have described over the centuries, but had little personal experience of that quiet abiding.
I was only a tourist describing a country I had never visited. I was convinced that the country was there, I had read the travel brochures, I had worked hard at learning the language of that country. I had even met people who lived there and had listened to everything they said about the country. The problem was that I had become an expert on a country that I had never visited.
Richard Foster opens his classic book Celebration of Discipline by stating that what is needed today is not more gifted people or intelligent people. What is needed today is more deep people. And how to we become deep? We become grafted into the Living Vine. We abide.
Sometimes I think we lose track of how incredible the whole concept and process of prayer is. I know I am guilty as charged. In my work at LifeBrook I once designed a two-day training, not on prayer as many people had asked, but on preparing for prayer. You see, I had come to the point of awareness where I saw that I had not been giving the practice of prayer the place of honor it deserved.
It is hard to express this in words, but I had a personal epiphany around this issue. It dawned on me, in my gut, that when I went into my prayer closet I was coming into the presence of that very being, that inexplicable intelligence responsible for putting together this incredible universe, with all its complexity, diversity, and finely-tuned balance. Friends, it literally took my breath away.
What made this prayer experience so profound for me was the reality that God, the divine being and creator of all that is and ever will be, not only wanted to spend time with me, but he actually loved me. And what is even more amazing was the fact that his love was not static, but instead, was dynamic – a genuine affection that provided me with provision, purpose, and passion for life. As I sat there in silence that blessed morning, the words of the prophet Jeremiah jumped off the page and penetrated my heart in a way both novel and life-changing:
For I know the plans I have for you…They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. I will be found by you…I will end your captivity and restore your fortune. (Jeremiah 29:11-14a)
As I said, this episode literally left me panting for breath, but it didn’t end there. As is my practice, I normally take a book of devotions with me into my prayer sanctuary, just in case the Spirit leads me to open and read, especially if my period of prayer seems do be without direction. I opened the book, a short collection of essays on scriptural themes. It was no coincidence that I opened the book to the page where I had placed book mark, totally at random, prior to beginning this period of prayer. You can imagine what I felt when I began to read these words by Lloyd Ogilvie:
Talk about a conversation opener! Imagine someone you love and admire and whose thoughts and opinions you cherish, saying to you, “You are constantly on my mind. And when I think of you they are wonderful thoughts of peace and future happiness for you. I’m pulling for the very best for you. What a joy it is to be your cheerleader!” I would not be difficult to find time for conversation with a person like that. Multiply the best of human care and concern for us a billion times and you’ve only begun to fathom God’s love for us as He calls us into conversation. That’s the whole point of time alone with God. It is to allow Him the opportunity to love us.
Rather than write more about this, let me issue you a challenge. Over the next week, spend a block of time each day, say 15-30 minutes, during which you reflect on just what prayer is and what it is not. Really spend time with this, keep a small journal of your thoughts, and especially consider just who and what it is you are encountering when you go into prayer.
Don’t approach this as an exercise in intellectual snobbery or any kind of effort at theological description. Instead, let your heart lead you into your response.
Be especially open and sensitive to meeting the incredible being that created all that is, even you, in all its incredible complexity.
If you persist with this exercise over a period of several weeks, I predict your prayer time will be forever transformed. Try it and see.
© L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved
In Defense of Bishop Spong
July 9, 2009
Filed under Apologetics, Bible, Change Your Life, Christian Mission and Calling, Christianity, Church, Church Renewal, Church and Culture, Compassion, Cosmic Christ, Creation Centered Spirituality, Culture, Emerging Christianity, Global Church, God's Love, God's Story, Gospel, Grace, Issues in Transformation, Jesus, Jesus' Teaching, Kingdom of God
Tags: Apologetics, Bishop John Shelby Spong, Christianity, Discipleship, Liberal Theology, Practical Theology, Progressive Christianity, Theology
L. Dwight Turner
Few names can conjure up negative responses as that of retired Episcopalian Bishop John Shelby Spong. One of the leading advocates of contemporary liberal Christianity, Spong’s ideas have sent more than his share of conservatives and fundamentalists into fits of apoplexy.
Although I find myself disagreeing with some of Spong’s more radical ideas about the faith in general and about Jesus in particular, I find that my reaction to the writings of the good bishop to be less vitriolic. In fact, I find much of what Spong has to say to be both enlightening and highly pertinent. Further, I find Spong to be a man who thoroughly believes what he says and who has a genuine affection for the faith.
It is for these reasons that I encourage those readers who have an open mind to read the works of John Shelby Spong and to give this man a fair shake when it comes to his theology as well as his prescriptions for the church. Personally, I think Spong has much to offer the Body of Christ, if we will just put aside some of the things we have “heard” about him and discover for ourselves what he has to say.
For example, in the passage below Spong discusses how his concept of prayer has changed as he has adopted what he calls a “post-theistic” concept of God. On a personal level, he specifically discusses how his daily two-hour prayer sessions have been transformed into a far wider venue:
As I moved beyond theism to a post-theistic understanding of God, I discovered that my commitment to starting my day with this focused two-hour time slot did not change, but my understanding of what I was doing did – and dramatically. It made perhaps a 180-degree turn. The primary shift came in what I thought the prayer part of my day was. It ceased to be identified with these first two hours each morning and shifted to embrace the balance of the day. My actions, my engagement with people, the facing of concrete issues – all these became for me the real time of prayer. My prayer came to be identified with my living, my loving, my being, my meaning, my confronting, my struggles for justice, my desire to be an agent of the world’s transformation. That is where I met and communed with God. God was no longer found for me in the quiet places of retreat; now God was in the hurly-burly of a busy and sometimes troubling life. God was found not in the stable rocks but in the rushing rapids.
(from A New Christianity for a New World)
I find nothing in these words offensive or heretical. It seems the only folks that find the bulk of Spong’s work to be heresy are those believers, heretics themselves, who hold to the notion that the Bible is the Word of God and worthy of worship. I find bibliolatry to be a particularly vile form of apostasy, and a major cause of division and spiritual paralysis in the church. It is certainly far more deadly than what Spong is talking about.
(to be continued)
© L. Dwight Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved
The Essence of Spirituality: Radical Compassion
March 14, 2009
Filed under Bodhisattva, Buddhist Dharma, Celtic Christianity, Christian Kindness, Christian Meditation, Christian Mission and Calling, Christian Mysticism, Christianity, Church Renewal, Church and Culture, Compassion, Contemplation, Contemplative Spirituality, Cosmic Christ, Creation Centered Spirituality, Culture, Discipleship, Divine Mind, Emerging Christianity, Global Church, God's Kingdom, God's Love, God's Story, Gospel, Grace, Holy Spirit, Inner Light, Interspirituality, Issues in Transformation, Jesus, Jesus' Teaching, Kingdom of God, Meditation, Ministry, Mission and Calling, Missions, Morality and Values, Mystical Experience, Mystical Spirituality, Mysticism, Nature Mysticism, Paul's Teachings, Personal Epiphanies, Personal Growth, Prayer, Purpose, Quaker Spirituality, Sacred Center, Sacred Mind, Sacred Silence, Service, Spiritual Disciplines, Spiritual Formation, Spirituality, World Religions, Worldview
Tags: Christian Mysticism, Compassion, Interconnectivity, Kahil Gibran, Mysticism, Personal Ethics, Quantum Physics, Service, Spirituality
L. Dwight Turner
Jesus Christ was not a man of compassion; he was a man of radical compassion. From his voluntary mission to this broken world, to his mysterious ascension back into the heavenly realm, there was no theme he stressed more in both word and deed. From his opening salvo quoting Isaiah about bringing release to the captives and good news to the poor, to his dying plea of, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,” Jesus exemplified a compassion far beyond what the world had seen before. Indeed, it was and is a radical compassion.
Jesus’ stories about the Prodigal, the Good Samaritan, and his treatment of the woman caught in adultery all point to the need for a compassion that transcends the normal boundaries defined by contemporary culture, then and now. Indeed, it was and is a radical compassion.
Radical compassion is compassion with legs; radical compassion is a verb. Just as the Bible tells us in the Letter of James that faith without works is dead, also, compassion without concomitant action is a lifeless phenomenon. Many sincere aspirants have the mistaken notion that the ultimate goal of the spiritual path is enlightenment. Although a sincere desire for motivation is one of our most treasured possessions, it is actually penultimate. The real aim of the spiritual journey is simply this – Sacred Service. All that we do is dedicated to the greatest good of all beings in all the worlds. Our gain is their gain, our loss is their loss, our advancement is their advancement, and it is to this sacred reality that we offer our benedictions at the end of our times of meditation and prayer.
In the Christian faith especially, personal enlightenment takes a back seat to serving others, spiritually and materially. Perhaps no where in the sacred writings of the world is this reality presented so directly as in the 13th Chapter of the Gospel of John.
Imagine for a moment that you are one of Jesus’ twelve disciples and you, your band of rag tag friends, and the Master arrive at the Upper Room after a long, tedious, dusty day going about your business. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and unwind a few moments before you go wash up for the evening meal. You close your eyes for a few minutes, only to feel something or someone taking off your sandals. And to your utter disbelief, kneeling in front of you is the Master Jesus with a basin and a towel. Incredible….
The Master taught his disciples, and all of us who have read of this amazing episode, a clear and concise example of the essence of spirituality: selfless service with a heart of humility. If only more of us, especially those who claim to be followers of Jesus, would take this lesson to heart, our world would have much less pain.
The Kingdom of God is a divine realm of proactive compassion. This is the message that Jesus came to deliver and through his actions as well as his words, he delivered it consistently. In all that he did and he said, Jesus revealed to us the nature of God. This incarnational revelation was hinted at in the Master’s magnificent prayer in John 17. In the 21st verse the Master says:
I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one – as you are in me, Father, and I am in you. And may they be in us so that the world will believe you sent me.
In the Bible’s most well known verse, John 3:16, it is stated that for God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life. (NLT)
Now, to make this even clearer, let’s look at one more verse in John 17. In verse three John records:
And this is the way to have eternal life, to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, the one you sent to earth. (NLT)
Putting all this together, Jesus gave us a powerful but very real theology in this prayer and his disciple, John, fully caught its significance by saying in 3:16 that God loved the world so much that he sent his Son to save it. On God’s part, this was a perfect example of “proactive compassion” or what we often call “grace.” Motivated by the purest form of love, God was moved to have compassion on we fallen creatures, even in our blind ignorance, and he literally gave that compassion flesh by sending us the Master Jesus.
In order for compassion to become more than just a nice idea or a sentimental feeling, it must flow out of the internalized wisdom of the ages, particularly as related to the reality of “interconnectivity.” The idea of interconnectivity, now confirmed by the field of quantum physics, has been around for many centuries and is at the core of interspiritual mysticism, that one aspect of world religion that seems to transcend culture, time, and especially theology. It is a mystical connectedness that promotes compassion and engaged action to make the world a better place for all who dwell here. In essence, it is a deep wisdom that gives flesh to grace. The great spiritual writer Kahil Gibran spoke of this interconnected reality when he said:
Your neighbor is your other self dwelling behind a wall. In understanding, all walls shall fall down. Who knows but that your neighbor is your better self wearing another body? See that you love him as you would yourself. He too is a manifestation of the Most High.
In India, for example, we have the story of Indra’s Net, which is strung throughout the universe with a precious jewel at the places where the cords of the net intersect. These jewels, in turn, reflect all of the other jewels. Similar to the modern discovery of the hologram, the image of Indra’s Net is filled with symbolic wisdom depicting the interconnectivity of all that is. Gary Zukav, in his groundbreaking book entitled, The Dancing Wu Li Masters tell us:
…the philosophical implications of quantum mechanics is that all things in our universe (including us) that appears to exist independently are actually parts of one all-encompassing organic pattern, and that no parts of that pattern are ever really separate from it or from each other.
In the Christian tradition, the writings of the great mystic teachers echo these same truths, often in symbolic and metaphorical ways. Julian of Norwich especially comes to mind as well as Hildegard of Bingen and Madame Guyon. The writings of Saint Theresa of Avila and the life and work of St. Francis also point to the interconnectivity of all life and the necessity of having a heart of radical compassion.
The great Romantic poets like William Wordsworth and Percy B. Shelley have voices that ring loudly with the sense of the interrelated aspects of the natural world and their American counterparts, the Transcendentalists, in the writings of Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman, also echo this theme of divine connectivity. And then there is the work of that master of the arcane, William Blake who spoke of the mystic’s ability:
To see a World in a grain of sand,
And Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
The world that we interact with each day only appears to be solid. In point of fact, it is an intricate dance of sub-atomic waves and particles that obey none of the traditional or expected moves of predictable choreography. At its core level, our apparently solid, material world is less like classical music and more like jazz. Just when we think we have a handle on how things are, these very things change, morphing into something totally unexpected and often totally mysterious. Someone wise, I forget who, once said the life is not a riddle to be solved but a mystery to be lived. How true, and the sooner a person grasps this fundamental truth, the less frustration will appear in his or her life.
It is not my intention to travel too far down this road of quantum physics at this juncture. Suffice to say that contemporary science is increasingly coming to grasp the same fundamental truths that mystics and shamans have voiced for many centuries. Simply put: Everything is interrelated and interdependent and when one part is affected by something, at a very core level, every other part is also impacted.
In teaching about the interrelated aspect of the universe, I often use a simple analogy that explains these principles in a basic way. I use the example of raisin Jell-o. Imagine you have concocted a delicious tub or raisin Jell-o. Choose your favorite flavor if you like. The raisins are the important thing, here. Now, what happens when you take your index finger and thump one of the raisins? All the raisins move. Crude as this metaphor is, it makes the point that all the raisins in the bowl are connected and if one raisin moves, they all move. This is what the mystics, and the quantum physicists, are talking about when they speak of interconnectivity.
It should not be too difficult of an intellectual jump to see why this concept of interrelated reality should lead to a true and radical sense of compassion. What happens to me in the ultimate sense, happens to you and vice versa. When a child dies of hunger or disease in a poverty stricken nation, some part of each of us dies. We may not feel it, understand it, or even recognize it. Still, it is a fundamental spiritual and quantum truth. It is wise to remember the words of the 17th Century poet John Donne as he spoke of the custom of the time which involved ringing the town’s bell whenever someone died:
Any man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind;
Therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
© L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved
The Fragrance of God
February 11, 2009
Filed under Attitudes of Blessing, Celtic Christianity, Christian Mysticism, Christianity, Church, Church Renewal, Contemplation, Contemplative Spirituality, Cosmic Christ, Creation Centered Spirituality, Discipleship, Discipline of Noticing, Divine Mind, God's Kingdom, Inner Light, Interspirituality, Issues in Transformation, Jesus, Jesus' Teaching, Mystical Spirituality, Native Amercian Spirituality, Nature Mysticism, Parenting, Personal Renewal, Personal Vision, Positive Faith, Positive Living, Quaker Spirituality, Renewal of the Mind, Sacred Mind, Spiritual Disciplines, Spiritual Formation, Spirituality, Worldview
Tags: Christianity, Discipleship, Nature Mysticism, Quakers, Religion, Spirituality
*** A number of readers have asked that this previously posted essay about my Grandfather be put up again. I am only glad to do this, as my Grandfather was a positive and important person in my life.
This morning when I woke up and shook the fog out of my head, I became aware that I was thinking back on an experience I had undergone many years ago. Perhaps I had dreamed about it or it could be that the Sacred Spirit was bringing it to my attention for some reason. As I go through my day I need to be aware of this, in case the Spirit is indeed trying to communicate something to me. I have found that, at least in my case, God often gets messages past my thick mind by speaking to me in this indirect but unmistakable manner.
Sometimes I wish I could hear from God a little more easily. I find myself from time to time wishing that I could just walk out in my back yard first thing in the morning and find God waiting there to talk to me out of a burning bush. I would even settle for a braying donkey. It doesn’t matter so much how he did it, just that it was a little less troublesome and inconsistent.
My old friend Jesse often tells me that God speaks to all of us all of the time, but we rarely have ears to hear. He claims that many people’s dependence upon thing like Bible reading, sermon-listening, and book study have blinded us, or perhaps I should say deafened us, to the crystal clear voice of God. For Jesse, God speaks through three primary media, nature, the inner light and other seekers. It could very well be that Jesse is right when he says we have become so dependent upon the ways we have been instructed to hear God’s voice that we can’t discern his speaking when it comes in other ways.
Jesse reminds me of my grandfather when he talks like this. I have mentioned my grandfather before on this blog. A southern, rural man to the core, my grandfather was devoutly attuned to the rhythms of the natural world. As a child I often marveled at his knowledge, wisdom, and uncanny ability to see things that others couldn’t see. A Quaker and a mystic by birth, from the time he was a teenager my grandfather was a consternation to his parents because of his stubborn resistance to going to First Day Meeting as the Society of Friends called it. “Church” is basically what it was to others. This resistance did not go away once my grandfather reached his adult years and now, rather than to my great-grandparents, his absence became a consternation to his wife, my grandmother.
The reason I mention all of this is that it was often through my grandfather that I learned that God did indeed speak through venues other than the church, the preacher, the Bible, and, in his day, radio-evangelists. I carry to this day one distinct memory of my grandfather’s approach to religion that was for me an epiphany of sorts. I was 12-years-old and our family was visiting my grandparents during the Easter season. Little did I know at the time that this would be a Palm Sunday I would never forget.
As usual, my grandfather had resisted the family’s repeated entreaties that he join them for the Sunday morning meeting at the “Meeting House.” Even more to my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to stay home with him and “help him take care of a few things.” You can’t imagine my delight at this turn of events. I responded that I would love to stay home and help him and that pretty much settled the matter.
After putting out some extra feed for his two mules, my grandfather took me for a walk in the woods adjacent to his farm. Eventually we came to a clearing, a meadow actually, that was dotted with patches of wild flowers. From our vantage point, the meadow seemed to extend forever and the patches of flowers were like explosions of color in a sea of green. As was often the case, we walked and talked about all kinds of things. I had something I wanted to ask him about and finally got around to it, although I was somewhat apprehensive about asking him.
“PaPa,” I began. “Why is it you never go to church with the family? I have only seen you go a couple of times. Do you hate church?”
“No, son….I don’t hate church. In fact, I like it,” he replied, chuckling under his breath. “I just like to spend my Sabbath day being with God.”
I recall being mystified by his answer and, after scratching my head for a minute or two, go around to asking the logical question a 12-year-old boy might ask.
“But church is where God is,” I said. “If you want to be with God, why don’t you go to church? It doesn’t make sense, PaPa.”
“God isn’t in church much these days, son. At least I haven’t seen him there in awhile,” responded PaPa. “At church preachers preach (they were Evangelical Quakers), singers sing, prayers pray, and gossipers gossip. That doesn’t leave much time for God to say anything.”
I remember he paused for quite awhile to let his words sink into my still young mind.
“I figure if I need to be with God, to talk to him and listen to him, I need to come out here where it is quiet,” he continued. “God didn’t build that church, but he sure as hell made these woods and this meadow. I figure if I want to talk to God I need to go where he lives.”
“I think I understand, PaPa,” I recall saying. “But isn’t religion important? My Mom says my religion is the most important part of life and that when I grow up, I can’t live without it.”
After a long silence, my grandfather looked me squarely in the eyes and told me in no uncertain terms what he thought about my question.
“Just keep in mind a few things and it will make your spiritual life easier and less troublesome,” he said. “First, understand that religion doesn’t have anything to do with God, and vice versa.” My grandfather had to explain what vice versa meant. I was only 12.
“Religion is an invention, just like the wheel and the telephone,” PaPa continued. “Spirituality is sometimes a part of religion but most of the time it isn’t. Unlike religion, spirituality is not an invention. It is something as much a part of being human as breathing, sleeping, and sex. All of those things are built into us from the start. So is spirituality. Our job is so make our lives spiritual every day. Religion is supposed to help with that, but most of the time it prevents spirituality, it doesn’t create it.”
I guess my grandfather was one of the early people to be dealing with the religion vs. spirituality conflict. These days the familiar adage about being spiritual but not religious is so commonplace it has lost much of its real impact. I should not be surprised, however, at my grandfather’s words. As I mentioned, he was a Quaker and a mystic throughout his life. In fact, he knew the Quaker mystic Rufus Jones quite well and often told stories about Jones. I never had the opportunity to meet Rufus Jones, although I would have loved to. Jones died in 1948 I think, which was a year before my birth.
As for me, I was thoroughly confused by this time. I struggled to understand what my PaPa had said, especially the business about spirituality and religion. I asked grandfather if he could tell me again about the difference between the two. Here is where the epiphany came in and also where Rufus Jones fits into this story.
“Come over here,” said PaPa as he got up and walked toward one of the flower explosions in the meadow. “Now, pay close attention and I think you will get the picture.”
Grandfather kneeled down and picked an absolutely beautiful bright purple flower. As I knelt beside him, he said, “I want to teach you something Rufus Jones taught me many years ago. This is probably the most beautiful flower in this whole meadow. Imagine this is the church. Sometimes churches can be really beautiful places, inside and out. And the folks inside can be beautiful, too.”
I listened carefully and appreciated the flower, but wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
“Now, hold the flower to your nose and take a good whiff. Smell it deeply.”
Taking a deep breath I held the flower to my nose and smelled of it. Oddly, there was no fragrance, either good or bad.
“There is no smell, PaPa,” I reported.
“Isn’t it strange that a flower so attractive can have no fragrance?” said PaPa. “Churches can be like that as well. Our family goes to a church a lot like that.”
He then picked another flower, not unattractive by any means, but far less striking than the first. He held it to my nose.
“It is wonderful, PaPa,” I said after drinking deeply of the fragrance of this rather ordinary looking flower. “What is it, PaPa?”
“Spirituality,” he said in a serene voice filled with certainty.