Friday, November 12, 2010

Dogma and Truth

Over the past few months, I have had an experience in preaching and teaching at church that is a little hard to express. But, I am going to try. Because, I find myself drifting in and out of meaningful speech and interaction, and I am beginning to get a feeling for what is going on. As I am preaching, I will be honestly speaking, and then I drift back into traditional, doctrinal language, and the sense of meaning disappears for me. I don't know what happens for those listening to me.

I am not saying that all traditional speech is meaningless, because sometimes the old language, the old creed is very, very meaningful, and says it so much better than contemporary language can. But, there is just this stock of trite, worn out religious phrases that just kill my soul when I say them, and may be numbing the souls of those I am speaking to or with.

Dogma and truth. Orthodox teaching and present experience. How are they related?

I think what really bothers me is when I start taking up this attitude as a preacher (I rarely do this as a teacher) that I have some sort of special knowledge of God or that I can tell people just what the Lord intends. I am not saying I do that a lot, but I fall into as it seems to be the expectation of Protestant preachers. The best preaching I do is when I feel "undone" by the truth of God and humbled to a pile of ashes and unable to do anything but connect with the humanity of others and the deep mystery of our Holy God. I will have to say that there are a few times when I do feel a clear, positive voice and message to assure others of God's goodness and justice, and I don't mind voicing that. But, so much other preaching is just play acting in church. We gather before a mystery on Sundays for worship. A mystery that has brought all that is into being. We gather before the mystery of God who has taken interest in our plight for some reason, and even chosen to bear it with us. There is not a whole lot else to claim to know beyond that. But, there are praises to sing, and prayers to be said, without presumption and there are cries for help to be expressed as well.

I keep remembering what the Quakers taught, at least in their early days, which was that a person should not get caught up in "notions (thoughts about religion and God)," but should stick close to their genuine experience of the Holy. They used to say: "Stay low in the Seed." The Seed meant for them the inner Christ, which they believed was planted in every human being. You had to be very still to hear this inner teacher. You had to be very humble or the inner Christ wouldn't speak. And, when you had heard a true inner word, you were very careful to not speak beyond what you had experienced, and you were very careful to not speak it unless it was truly called for.

The Quakers were more afraid of speaking bullshit than failing to speak about God. That really seems the opposite of Protestant Christianity. Most of Protestantism is more afraid of not speaking about God, and very little worried about speaking bullshit about God.

Post from Russian Orthodox Website: Cataphatic and Apophatic Theology

The following in bold was printed on the website for The Russian Orthodox Church in Great Britian and Ireland

CATAPHATIC AND APOPHATIC THEOLOGY

When discussing the names of God, we inevitably conclude that not one of them can give us a complete idea of who He is. To speak of the attributes of God is to discover that their sum total is not God. God transcends any name. If we call Him being, He transcends being, He is supra-being. If we ascribe to Him righteousness and justice, in His love He transcends all justice. If we call Him love, He is much more than human love: He is supra-love. God transcends all attributes that we are capable of ascribing to Him, be it omniscience, omnipresence or immutability.

Ultimately we arrive at the conclusion that we can say nothing about God affirmatively: all discussion about Him remains incomplete, partial and limited. Finally we come to realize that we cannot say what God is , but rather what He is not . This manner of speaking about God has received the name of apophatic (negative) theology, as opposed to cataphatic (affirmative) theology.

The traditional image of Moses ascending Mount Sinai to God, surrounded in darkness, inspired both St Gregory of Nyssa and Dionysius the Areopagite to speak about the divine darkness as a symbol of God's incomprehensibility. To enter the divine darkness is to go beyond the confines of being as understood by the intellect. Moses encountered God but the Israelites remained at the foot of the mountain, that is, within the confines of a cataphatic knowledge of God. Only Moses could enter the darkness; having separated himself from all things, he could encounter God, Who is outside of everything, Who is there where there is nothing . Cataphatically we can say that God is Light, but in doing so we liken God to sensible light. And if it is said about Christ transfigured on Mount Tabor that 'his face shone like the sun, and his garments became white as light' (Matt.17:2), then the cataphatic notion of 'light' is used here symbolically, since this is the uncreated light of the Divinity that transcends all human concepts of light. Apophatically we can call the Divine light, the supra-light or darkness. Thus the darkness of Sinai and the light of Tabor are one and the same.

In our understanding of God we often rely upon cataphatic notions since these are easier and more accessible to the mind. But cataphatic knowledge has its limits. The way of negation corresponds to the spiritual ascent into the Divine abyss where words fall silent, where reason fades, where all human knowledge and comprehension cease, where God is . It is not by speculative knowledge but in the depths of prayerful silence that the soul can encounter God, Who is 'beyond everything' and Who reveals Himself to her as in-comprehensible, in-accessible, in-visible, yet at the same time as living and close to her - as God the Person.
Web Address: http://www.sourozh.org/

Now, a couple of comments from me. First, I think these words about the relationship between apophatic and cataphatic theology are deeply important, and I think that the priority given apophatic theology is very, very important. One thing I noticed though, was that as the point was being made that God is "beyond all names," the masculine pronoun (capitalized) is maintained throughout. Seems like the apophatic theology still has some work to do. One writer on the apophatic tradition of Western Christian Theology has suggested that a proper cataphatic theology uses such a variety of names for God that everytime one image is put up, it is knocked down by another, giving way to the 'unknowing' of faith. This writer, Denys Turner, suggests by example in his writing that the feminine and masculine names/images ultimately give way to a name beyond names that bursts the bonds of language and certainly the category of gender language.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

The Radical Negative Epistemology of the Apostle Paul: To know nothing, but Jesus Christ and him crucified

"I decided to know nothing among you, but Jesus Christ and him crucified." 1 Cor. 2:5

Paul knew many different things as we know many different things, so what did he mean when he said, "I decided to know nothing among you?" Does he say these words to describe a particular stance or position about knowledge that he took in relation to the Corinthians and their conflicts? Or, is Paul describing a normative way of knowing, a way of knowing that applies to all who share the faith of Christ? I believe Paul is doing both: describing the particular position he has been pushed into by the Corinthian challenge, but also affirming that he has discovered in this time of necessity the way of knowing for all those who want to share the faith of Christ. I believe Paul has discovered a way of true understanding amidst the competing interests and allegiances of life.

"I decided to know nothing among you, but Jesus Christ and him crucified." Paul says: "I decided to know." Paul could have demonstrated his knowledge of the Hebrew scriptures and the law, displayed his visionary experiences of faith. He could have told about the miracle working powers God had given him. But, Paul was afraid to trust in these ways and humbled himself to being a witness to the true way of life - the way of Jesus, the one who was crucified.

Paul could have debated philosophies, shown evidences of his superior intellect, but he was wary of all this. And, so he made a clear decision in his soul - to give way to speaking of Jesus' way, the way of complete love and obedience to the living God. Love of God and people; obedience to God's ways and will above all - the cross. Jesus Christ and him crucified.

Paul meant for his life, his deeds, his words be transparent to the crucified Jesus. That people might forget Paul and remember Jesus Christ and him crucified.

But, why does Paul focus his eyes and heart on the crucified Jesus? Why not speak of the Risen Lord here?

I think it is because you can get carried away with talk about Jesus' resurrection and victory and forget the way of Jesus and that way is a way of ultimate and costly love and obedience. Jesus asked/begged of God, that the cup of suffering and humiliation pass, but then knew it could not. So, he said: "Not my will, but thy will be done."

And, until we have have come before God and experienced something like this, some deep experience about how much love and obedience cost, until we have felt this urge to flee and then felt even deeper the resolve to obey out of love - until we have really said in the depths of our being: "Not my will, but thy will be done," in a particular crisis of life . . . until then, we might be believing, but when we pass through this test in faith, we begin to know - we become a disciple, one who is walking on the way of faith, the way of the crucified Lord.

Paul had experienced this way, been humbled and amazed by this way. And, it was his touchstone with reality and truth. He was going to stay close to this way. He would stay humble in knowing of Christ's faith.

In a religious culture that speaks the name of Jesus loudly and celebrates Jesus' victory, it is a radical way of believing to "know only Jesus Christ and him crucifed." In a triumphalist religious culture that knows about all parts of life and can tell you what to do about everything, it is a radical way of knowing to say: "I decided to know none of this, except Jesus Christ and him crucified."

In a religious culture that encourages you to become something, it is a radical stance to vow to become nothing so that Jesus might be known in his suffering.

In a wider church that celebrates the Risen and Exalted Jesus, it is a radical thing to proclaim the executed Jesus as the revelation of God's glory and power.

It is a way that denounces the strong, and encourages the weak - a way that puts to shame the wisdom of human beings and celebrates the shocking way of God that makes no sense in the world.

It is a way that finds Jesus present with the imprisoned and abandoned, but absent from the powerful and esteemed.

And, this is the way of Jesus, the glory and revelation of God on earth. The way Paul has experienced and the way he holds to in life. It is like Paul knows that any stepping away from this narrow way could lead to delusion and disaster.

The Quakers have a saying: "Stay low in the Seed." They mean what Paul means here. When you have a true experience of God - when the Christ has moved within your soul, stay close to that and don't move beyond it by either forgetting or saying more about it than you should. There is a reverent humility in faith that keeps us close to the crucified Jesus.

"Where you there when they crucified my Lord? Where you there when they crucified my Lord?" the spiritual goes. Let your faith , your way of knowing, stay in this holy song, for the feeling and reality of faith is in this spiritual. Stay in these words and don't go beyond them.

This is the way of life - the seed that brings new life. Be humble in this way of Jesus - let the way of Jesus become known in your living and your refusing to trust in any way of knowing or loving or living than the way of Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

This is the way of truth and life and salvation in this world and the next. This is the way of unity for the entire human race. There is no other way that is strong enough to draw together all the disparate parts of humanity. And, it is a way that goes through the crucified Jesus.

For those who will come to know God in this suffering of Jesus, God wills to be known. For those who would come to know God through the ways of victory and power, God simply withdraws in his wonderful humility.

The humble God cannot be known by arrogant humans, and this true God will not be remade in the image of arrogant humans, but graciously seeks to refashion us in the image of our humble God, an image that is born in our hearts when we embrace the crucified Jesus as the truth and glory of the living God. Amen.

The Problem with Compliments

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."

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.

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.

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.