Jesus' response to the young man who called him "good teacher" was first to recoil from being called "good." Jesus quickly replied: "There is no one good but God." There is something in us when we are in touch with reality that has the same reaction to a very strong compliment from another. For Jesus, I think it was that he was simply doing what he was supposed to do and didn't think that set him up for any prizes, awards or honors. I can't help but think that Jesus was the most surprised of all when God exalted him as God did. And, that is exactly why God exalted him. And, Jesus remains humble, unassuming as he identifies with the lowly because he is truly the Messiah of God, the reflection and being of God, united to human flesh.
When someone understands us, they know our weaknesses and perhaps have suffered because of them. When a person understands us like that and comes to appreciate us and pays us a compliment, I guess it is safe to accept it and say: "thank you," because you can trust the whole thing is not a sham. When someone really knows us very little and pays us a big compliment, beware - they are either trying to pull one over on you or you have pulled one over on them.
I remember what my Dad said to me one time: "If someone is complimenting you a lot, you better watch out - they're probably trying to get something off of you."
Sunday, November 7, 2010
What to expect from other people
There might be a few people in life from whom you deserve good will, and there might be a few people in life from whom you deserve ill will; but, from most everyone else you deserve neither good will nor ill will. If you don't expect good will or ill will from relative strangers, you are more likely to receive good will and less likely to receive ill will. Often an open, somewhat tentative approach to people brings out the best in them. It might even be a good approach to try with those we are close to. Maybe we aren't particularly deserving of their good will or ill will either - just a little understanding.
What we really deserve from each other and owe to each other is a chance. To give each other a chance - if you do that things tend to work out. An unassuming attitude, a waiting openness towards a new moment in time. Where that is present, there is always the chance that something very good will happen between one person and another.
What we really deserve from each other and owe to each other is a chance. To give each other a chance - if you do that things tend to work out. An unassuming attitude, a waiting openness towards a new moment in time. Where that is present, there is always the chance that something very good will happen between one person and another.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Something on T.V. and some thoughts about faith and doubt and truth and the way of the mystics
I very rarely watch t.v. except for watching Braves baseball and Tennessee football or basketball. And, I watch some other college teams play too. But, I don't watch anything else, except every once in a while.
One show that Sue watches that I have watched a few times is called Glee. It is about high school kids in a music class/club at school. Tonight it was a particularly good show focused on the trouble one male student was having because his father and only living parent had had a severe heart attack. And, interwoven with this concern was an emphasis on spiritual music which was performed throughout the show. The boy with a critically ill father did not believe in God, whereas many of his classmates were involved in praying for his father. At one point, a girl who was a friend of his got him to go to her church and she led the whole church in a song for him ("Bridge Over Troubled Water"). She said before she started singing that she knew he didn't believe in God and that that was alright, but everybody had to find something to hold onto beyond what they could see. And, then she sang a song for him, and they all sang the song for him. He was white, and his friend was black as was the rest of the congregation.
That song seemed just right for me. It made room for him with his not-believing, but needing love, right in the middle of the believing community. There was room for him in that church as he was.
I have felt for some time that there ought to be room for atheism in a community of truth. Where there is no room for unbelief, I don't think there is room for belief. Since my college days, I have been struck with something solemn and almost sacred about doubt and even a lack of belief, when it is honestly expressed and felt. To me, it seems that with some people it is an sincere effort to struggle with the deepest things in life. Sometimes I don't think there can be any faith in our day, at least for the young, unless it has passed through or even been born in doubt and even unbelief. And, for some time now, it has also seemed that God's beliefs about us are much more important than our beliefs about God.
I know we think we can surround our children with faith and a community of faith and that will carry them through life. But, our children have to go out into the world soon enough - to school,to the playgrounds, and at some point to parties, workplaces, etc. Some go to wars, others to violent homes, others to jail,and still others to more secure places. And, I agree with passing on faith in God to our children the best we know how, but I don't know any way of really passing on anything without teaching our children to love the truth, and to love it even when it is hard to face. For me, faith was always about the search for truth, and a somewhat fearless search at that. It still is. That's why I always think it is good to teach children as they grow up that not only is it alright to doubt some things, but it is necessary to go through some doubt in order to find the way to some truths that will last in one's life.
I will turn 50 next month. And, I am thinking my way through to some new thoughts about faith and life and God. I have become interested explicitly in apophatic theology (mysticism of the "negative way of theology" as it is sometimes called), but implicitly I have been doing/experiencing this type of theology since I was a teenager. The apophatic way of believing is based on the conviction that true knowing and communion with God comes from reaching a profound sense of "unknowing." For mystics who follow in this way, all categories of belief end up collapsing into a mystery, the mystery of the Divine Presence, which may be more deeply experienced in the darkness than the light. All of my thinking pushes towards this mystery, which causes me to push every line of thought until it collapses or reveals its limits as it opens to something greater, as it points to something more.
There has always seemed to me something completely inexpressible about God, which common worship overlooks. I have always liked the solemn songs of praise that point to something way beyond our normal thoughts and experience. And, I have always loved the silence and the music without words in worship services. I have regularly found myself saying of Christian theology and Christian worship and Christian viewpoints through the years: "but, that isn't filled with the experience of God's holiness, God's love, and God's OTHERNESS." That's why I was so uplifted by Barth's early theological work about the HOLY OTHERNESS OF GOD,THE SHEER TRANSCENDENCE OF THE HOLY ONE. And, that's why when a couple of my friends in college expressed their lack of belief in God, it didn't seem so strange. It doesn't bother me that people are confused about God, and feel overwhelmed with trying to understand God. For me, that is part of faith. So, sometimes when a person expresses to me their doubts, I start feeling like they might be really coming to a true experience of God.
Once Thomas Aquinas said: "We do not know what type of being God is."
And, this week as I get ready to preach, I am reading over and over again the passage about Elijah hiding in the cleft of the great rock formation, waiting for God. And, there is a rushing wind, but the scripture says: "But,God was not in the wind." And, then there is a burning fire, but the scripture says: "But, God was not in the fire." Then an earthquake, as Elijah hides in the cleft of the great rock formation. Again, it is said: "But,God was not in the earthquake." And, then the scripture says something very amazing: "And, then there was the sound of sheer silence, and Elijah wrapped himself in his mantle."
In this profound silence, Elijah felt the presence of God and was in awe.
And, it is out of that silence that God speaks to Elijah. "The sound of sheer silence." Not the great wind, or fire or quaking of the earth, but in the sheer silence. So quiet it was arresting to the senses. Taking Elijah's focus within instead of without.
This passage makes me think about "what God is not," and how we ought to spend much of our spiritual teaching on "what God is not." Because, it is a little much for us most of the time to be able to say what God is. It often leads us into arrogance and a false sense of familiarity with the Divine to be talking all the time about what God is like. It would do us well to talk more and learn more about what God is not like.
And, that is what I am probably preaching on this Sunday. God is not the fire, the wind, the earthquake. God is not in the impressive demonstrations of power in this world - whether displays of beauty or wisdom or strength or magic or agility. In fact, God refuses to be found in these great displays, just as Jesus refused to be found in his wonder working. God chooses to be known in the weakness of the world, chooses the weak to shame the strong, chooses foolishness to shame human wisdom, submits to death to bring life. This is what Paul says in 1 Cor. 1. You can read it for yourself.
Paul's was a profound mysticism. He decided to "know only Jesus Christ,and him crucified." Jesus crucified is the image that breaks down all images or imaginings about God,and opens to a mystery that makes us tremble. "Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Where you there when they crucified my Lord? O ... o . . O.. . sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble . . . "
God is not . . . , God is not . . . , God is not . . . That's what the cross does for knowledge of God - deconstructs it before it constructs it.
The mystics discovered a movement of thought and feeling in which one could enter into a new way of experiencing, understanding God and self. It was the way of interiority, a way of finding a place of thought that is beyond thought, a place of feeling that is beyond feeling,and that is free from the downward pull of social and psychological struggle. For so many, this holy way was found in silence. Exterior silence, but more importantly interior silence in which the self felt itself folding into God's silence and presence.
But, you can't find this way without the interior experience of silence - which means a coming to rest deep down. Outer silence can be a help in finding inner silence, but outer silence may be accompanied by inner noise and fitfulness and distress and turmoil. Sometimes it takes outer silence to come to the point of realizing just how loud it is inside of us.
One show that Sue watches that I have watched a few times is called Glee. It is about high school kids in a music class/club at school. Tonight it was a particularly good show focused on the trouble one male student was having because his father and only living parent had had a severe heart attack. And, interwoven with this concern was an emphasis on spiritual music which was performed throughout the show. The boy with a critically ill father did not believe in God, whereas many of his classmates were involved in praying for his father. At one point, a girl who was a friend of his got him to go to her church and she led the whole church in a song for him ("Bridge Over Troubled Water"). She said before she started singing that she knew he didn't believe in God and that that was alright, but everybody had to find something to hold onto beyond what they could see. And, then she sang a song for him, and they all sang the song for him. He was white, and his friend was black as was the rest of the congregation.
That song seemed just right for me. It made room for him with his not-believing, but needing love, right in the middle of the believing community. There was room for him in that church as he was.
I have felt for some time that there ought to be room for atheism in a community of truth. Where there is no room for unbelief, I don't think there is room for belief. Since my college days, I have been struck with something solemn and almost sacred about doubt and even a lack of belief, when it is honestly expressed and felt. To me, it seems that with some people it is an sincere effort to struggle with the deepest things in life. Sometimes I don't think there can be any faith in our day, at least for the young, unless it has passed through or even been born in doubt and even unbelief. And, for some time now, it has also seemed that God's beliefs about us are much more important than our beliefs about God.
I know we think we can surround our children with faith and a community of faith and that will carry them through life. But, our children have to go out into the world soon enough - to school,to the playgrounds, and at some point to parties, workplaces, etc. Some go to wars, others to violent homes, others to jail,and still others to more secure places. And, I agree with passing on faith in God to our children the best we know how, but I don't know any way of really passing on anything without teaching our children to love the truth, and to love it even when it is hard to face. For me, faith was always about the search for truth, and a somewhat fearless search at that. It still is. That's why I always think it is good to teach children as they grow up that not only is it alright to doubt some things, but it is necessary to go through some doubt in order to find the way to some truths that will last in one's life.
I will turn 50 next month. And, I am thinking my way through to some new thoughts about faith and life and God. I have become interested explicitly in apophatic theology (mysticism of the "negative way of theology" as it is sometimes called), but implicitly I have been doing/experiencing this type of theology since I was a teenager. The apophatic way of believing is based on the conviction that true knowing and communion with God comes from reaching a profound sense of "unknowing." For mystics who follow in this way, all categories of belief end up collapsing into a mystery, the mystery of the Divine Presence, which may be more deeply experienced in the darkness than the light. All of my thinking pushes towards this mystery, which causes me to push every line of thought until it collapses or reveals its limits as it opens to something greater, as it points to something more.
There has always seemed to me something completely inexpressible about God, which common worship overlooks. I have always liked the solemn songs of praise that point to something way beyond our normal thoughts and experience. And, I have always loved the silence and the music without words in worship services. I have regularly found myself saying of Christian theology and Christian worship and Christian viewpoints through the years: "but, that isn't filled with the experience of God's holiness, God's love, and God's OTHERNESS." That's why I was so uplifted by Barth's early theological work about the HOLY OTHERNESS OF GOD,THE SHEER TRANSCENDENCE OF THE HOLY ONE. And, that's why when a couple of my friends in college expressed their lack of belief in God, it didn't seem so strange. It doesn't bother me that people are confused about God, and feel overwhelmed with trying to understand God. For me, that is part of faith. So, sometimes when a person expresses to me their doubts, I start feeling like they might be really coming to a true experience of God.
Once Thomas Aquinas said: "We do not know what type of being God is."
And, this week as I get ready to preach, I am reading over and over again the passage about Elijah hiding in the cleft of the great rock formation, waiting for God. And, there is a rushing wind, but the scripture says: "But,God was not in the wind." And, then there is a burning fire, but the scripture says: "But, God was not in the fire." Then an earthquake, as Elijah hides in the cleft of the great rock formation. Again, it is said: "But,God was not in the earthquake." And, then the scripture says something very amazing: "And, then there was the sound of sheer silence, and Elijah wrapped himself in his mantle."
In this profound silence, Elijah felt the presence of God and was in awe.
And, it is out of that silence that God speaks to Elijah. "The sound of sheer silence." Not the great wind, or fire or quaking of the earth, but in the sheer silence. So quiet it was arresting to the senses. Taking Elijah's focus within instead of without.
This passage makes me think about "what God is not," and how we ought to spend much of our spiritual teaching on "what God is not." Because, it is a little much for us most of the time to be able to say what God is. It often leads us into arrogance and a false sense of familiarity with the Divine to be talking all the time about what God is like. It would do us well to talk more and learn more about what God is not like.
And, that is what I am probably preaching on this Sunday. God is not the fire, the wind, the earthquake. God is not in the impressive demonstrations of power in this world - whether displays of beauty or wisdom or strength or magic or agility. In fact, God refuses to be found in these great displays, just as Jesus refused to be found in his wonder working. God chooses to be known in the weakness of the world, chooses the weak to shame the strong, chooses foolishness to shame human wisdom, submits to death to bring life. This is what Paul says in 1 Cor. 1. You can read it for yourself.
Paul's was a profound mysticism. He decided to "know only Jesus Christ,and him crucified." Jesus crucified is the image that breaks down all images or imaginings about God,and opens to a mystery that makes us tremble. "Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Where you there when they crucified my Lord? O ... o . . O.. . sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble . . . "
God is not . . . , God is not . . . , God is not . . . That's what the cross does for knowledge of God - deconstructs it before it constructs it.
The mystics discovered a movement of thought and feeling in which one could enter into a new way of experiencing, understanding God and self. It was the way of interiority, a way of finding a place of thought that is beyond thought, a place of feeling that is beyond feeling,and that is free from the downward pull of social and psychological struggle. For so many, this holy way was found in silence. Exterior silence, but more importantly interior silence in which the self felt itself folding into God's silence and presence.
But, you can't find this way without the interior experience of silence - which means a coming to rest deep down. Outer silence can be a help in finding inner silence, but outer silence may be accompanied by inner noise and fitfulness and distress and turmoil. Sometimes it takes outer silence to come to the point of realizing just how loud it is inside of us.
If I Could Only Tell the Truth!
If I could only tell the truth, I could really put some things on this blog that would be worth reading. If I could tell the truth about how much unfairness I see in a regular work week, and how much injustice I have gotten used to overlooking to be able to do my job. If I could tell you how callous I have become to the pain of others, and how I am amazed at how good and merciful and holy others are like Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, who have truly borne the pains and trouble of others and kept their bouyant spirit. If I could really write the truth and express from my heart what it is like to try to walk in faith and come up against barriers of hatred, arrogance, sadistic abuse of authority. If I could write about the worst of all barriers - the pettiness and emptiness within.
But, I can't write about those things on this blog. Because, well, you can't tell the truth in this world except to one or two or maybe three people, if you are lucky. And, I am lucky.
My friend, Mack, and I sat around talking over many things yesterday. We talked about some of those things I mentioned above that can't be written about on this blog. And, we talked until we reached a point of feeling like we had both heard each other and spoken to each other about some important things. I guess I am very fortunate that Mack is my "boss." I am certainly grateful for that. That is one truth I can write about.
But, I can't write about those things on this blog. Because, well, you can't tell the truth in this world except to one or two or maybe three people, if you are lucky. And, I am lucky.
My friend, Mack, and I sat around talking over many things yesterday. We talked about some of those things I mentioned above that can't be written about on this blog. And, we talked until we reached a point of feeling like we had both heard each other and spoken to each other about some important things. I guess I am very fortunate that Mack is my "boss." I am certainly grateful for that. That is one truth I can write about.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Is the foundation of life a finished creation or ongoing creativity?
The Raw Materials of Life
The first book of the Bible begins: “In the beginning, the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the deep. And, God said: ‘Let there be light, and there was light.’”
Other translations read: “The Spirit of God was brooding over “the face of the deep” or over the “waters.” Ancients thought of water as chaos. I am not sure they thought of it as the raw material of life, but that is how I am thinking of water and the face of the deep as I read this passage.
If the image is one of God brooding over the chaos, that is a powerful and primal image. God, the Creator, brooding over the raw materials of life. And, then, God says: “Let there be light.” Out of the darkness and brooding comes the creative Word, and the Creator is forming something out of the raw materials of life.
Now, orthodox theology would object to calling the “chaos” or “waters” something (raw materials of life) instead of nothing. Because a great teaching of the Church is the doctrine of creation out of nothing. And, I understand the question: “well, if there was something instead of nothing in the beginning,then where did the something come from?” Believing that all things come from God and hold together in God, I still don’t have any way of talking about creating out of nothing. Then, when did God come to exist? The answer: God has just always been there. At some point, we have to assume the existence of something or somebody to even begin to think.
And, the Bible assumes the existence of some rudimentary form of matter or chaotic elements in order to speak about God’s creative activity. I’m not that concerned about the first assumption about matter or non-matter that allows for thought. I am simply caught up in the opening words that read more like a poem than a historical or scientific account. “In the beginning, the Spirit of God was brooding over the face of the deep. And, God said: ‘Let there be light, and there was light.’”
Sometimes the only way we have of speaking of transcendent reality is through telling a story that draws us into the reality we are trying to describe. There is something primal and elemental and deeply holy and true in these first words of the Bible. The moment of creation is eternally present and recurs as we experience this moment over and over as an existential moment or series of moments in human life. Is there not something within each individual that “broods over the face of the deep,” that hovers over the face of the chaotic,” that contemplates the raw materials of life and somehow at some point hears the words or even says: “Let there be light?” and so illuminates the raw materials of life and begins the process of creating, shaping?
I am left with a couple of thoughts. There is no meaningful creative action unless the spirit “broods” over the darkness and chaos. The creative word and act arises out of engagement and involvement with the raw materials of life, which are a disordered potentiality. Most religion starts on the other side of the creative act, seeing God as the creator who finished it all up in “six days.” But, it seems to me that true religion finds its beginning, not on the other side of the finished creation,but in the middle of the brooding and shaping of that creative Word that is coming into being from God. By participating in this creative movement, a human being is able to engage the raw materials of life and somehow give shape to them or at least recognize the shape being given them by the great Other.
Understanding that it is our destiny to “brood over the face of chaos,” gives us a sense of purpose and confidence as we encounter disorienting experiences in life. And, gives us hope that at the center of everything, including our lives, is a mysterious movement from darkness to light.
The first book of the Bible begins: “In the beginning, the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the deep. And, God said: ‘Let there be light, and there was light.’”
Other translations read: “The Spirit of God was brooding over “the face of the deep” or over the “waters.” Ancients thought of water as chaos. I am not sure they thought of it as the raw material of life, but that is how I am thinking of water and the face of the deep as I read this passage.
If the image is one of God brooding over the chaos, that is a powerful and primal image. God, the Creator, brooding over the raw materials of life. And, then, God says: “Let there be light.” Out of the darkness and brooding comes the creative Word, and the Creator is forming something out of the raw materials of life.
Now, orthodox theology would object to calling the “chaos” or “waters” something (raw materials of life) instead of nothing. Because a great teaching of the Church is the doctrine of creation out of nothing. And, I understand the question: “well, if there was something instead of nothing in the beginning,then where did the something come from?” Believing that all things come from God and hold together in God, I still don’t have any way of talking about creating out of nothing. Then, when did God come to exist? The answer: God has just always been there. At some point, we have to assume the existence of something or somebody to even begin to think.
And, the Bible assumes the existence of some rudimentary form of matter or chaotic elements in order to speak about God’s creative activity. I’m not that concerned about the first assumption about matter or non-matter that allows for thought. I am simply caught up in the opening words that read more like a poem than a historical or scientific account. “In the beginning, the Spirit of God was brooding over the face of the deep. And, God said: ‘Let there be light, and there was light.’”
Sometimes the only way we have of speaking of transcendent reality is through telling a story that draws us into the reality we are trying to describe. There is something primal and elemental and deeply holy and true in these first words of the Bible. The moment of creation is eternally present and recurs as we experience this moment over and over as an existential moment or series of moments in human life. Is there not something within each individual that “broods over the face of the deep,” that hovers over the face of the chaotic,” that contemplates the raw materials of life and somehow at some point hears the words or even says: “Let there be light?” and so illuminates the raw materials of life and begins the process of creating, shaping?
I am left with a couple of thoughts. There is no meaningful creative action unless the spirit “broods” over the darkness and chaos. The creative word and act arises out of engagement and involvement with the raw materials of life, which are a disordered potentiality. Most religion starts on the other side of the creative act, seeing God as the creator who finished it all up in “six days.” But, it seems to me that true religion finds its beginning, not on the other side of the finished creation,but in the middle of the brooding and shaping of that creative Word that is coming into being from God. By participating in this creative movement, a human being is able to engage the raw materials of life and somehow give shape to them or at least recognize the shape being given them by the great Other.
Understanding that it is our destiny to “brood over the face of chaos,” gives us a sense of purpose and confidence as we encounter disorienting experiences in life. And, gives us hope that at the center of everything, including our lives, is a mysterious movement from darkness to light.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
10 minutes until court starts
I was thinking as I walked into the Justice Center a few minutes ago that I am glad I have this job as an Assistant Public Defender. It is a good thing to have some work to do that you know how to do, and then to go do it. Having work gives a certain grounding to life. I think it has something to do with the inner need to do something, to create something, to accomplish something that needs doing.
When we "work," it brings a certain sanity and sense into life.
I feel deeply sorry for those who cannot find any work in this world. That is a very depressing thing to face. I guess there is always some work that needs doing, but I am talking about those who can't find a job that will pay them and help them support themselves and others dependent upon them. That is another deep inner drive: to support oneself and those who are dependent on you.
Work. Well, I am looking forward to being off from work for two weeks next month, but I am still grateful to have some work worth doing and that I know how to do. I am not always this grateful about work, but I think I am a little "clearer-headed and hearted" today than usual.
When we "work," it brings a certain sanity and sense into life.
I feel deeply sorry for those who cannot find any work in this world. That is a very depressing thing to face. I guess there is always some work that needs doing, but I am talking about those who can't find a job that will pay them and help them support themselves and others dependent upon them. That is another deep inner drive: to support oneself and those who are dependent on you.
Work. Well, I am looking forward to being off from work for two weeks next month, but I am still grateful to have some work worth doing and that I know how to do. I am not always this grateful about work, but I think I am a little "clearer-headed and hearted" today than usual.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Loyalty to Religion, Loyalty to God and Loyalty to Humanity
A person whose primary allegiance in life is to his or her religion may be the greatest enemy of both God and humanity. Of course, it is hard to tell when loyalty to religion overcomes loyalty to God and loyalty to humanity. One clear way to tell if someone is really more loyal to God than to his religion is if that person's loyalty to God carries with it a deep concern for humanity. Where one easily gives up concern for the life of other humans in the name of his or her religion, then I start wondering whether that religion is false (i.e., not loyal to God).
Jesus of Nazareth revealed the undisoluble unity between love for God and love for people. In the First Letter of John in the New Testament it is written: "If anyone says he loves God whom he cannot see, but does not love his neighbor whom he can see, then that one is a liar." Jesus' teaching expressed the heart of Jewish faith, and this core of Judaism has been witnessed to in the Jewish community for centuries. "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength and love your neighbor as yourself."
But, as with Judaism in the days of Jesus, so also with Christianity in the days following Jesus' days in Judea, the core of faith so often gets overcome with the secondary matters of religion. As Jesus said: "you tithe mint, dill and cumin, but neglect the weightier matters of the law: justice, love, and mercy." And, once religion loses its core, it can become a very ugly force in life.
Religion has always had the tendency to lead to division and condemnation among human beings, even where human beings seem to have risen to a high level or morality as the Pharisees had in Jesus' time. We see this tendency of the Catholic Church in the middle ages as well as the Puritans of New England in the early days of the American Colonies. But, religion has also shown a remarkable power to bring reconciliation between groups that had previously been divided (e.g., the Jews and Gentiles in Paul's early church groups).
Jesus of Nazareth revealed the undisoluble unity between love for God and love for people. In the First Letter of John in the New Testament it is written: "If anyone says he loves God whom he cannot see, but does not love his neighbor whom he can see, then that one is a liar." Jesus' teaching expressed the heart of Jewish faith, and this core of Judaism has been witnessed to in the Jewish community for centuries. "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength and love your neighbor as yourself."
But, as with Judaism in the days of Jesus, so also with Christianity in the days following Jesus' days in Judea, the core of faith so often gets overcome with the secondary matters of religion. As Jesus said: "you tithe mint, dill and cumin, but neglect the weightier matters of the law: justice, love, and mercy." And, once religion loses its core, it can become a very ugly force in life.
Religion has always had the tendency to lead to division and condemnation among human beings, even where human beings seem to have risen to a high level or morality as the Pharisees had in Jesus' time. We see this tendency of the Catholic Church in the middle ages as well as the Puritans of New England in the early days of the American Colonies. But, religion has also shown a remarkable power to bring reconciliation between groups that had previously been divided (e.g., the Jews and Gentiles in Paul's early church groups).
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