The Incomparable

Isaiah 46:5 So to whom will you compare me, the Incomparable? Can you picture me without reducing me?

Here is the central paradox and difficultly about God: any way we come up with to try to describe God, whether simile, metaphor, allegory or image is inadequate to the task, falls far short of describing who/what God actually is. This is why Muslims and some Christians (and possibly some Jews, if memory serves) don't allow any pictures of God (for Muslims, it's any image of any creature, so their mosques are beautifully decorated with abstract art) in their houses of worship. Humans want to know, want to have some understanding of God, but the danger is that as soon as one aspect is described -- say, rock or fortress -- it's easy to get caught up in the image and forget that it's just a hint of God, one idea, one aspect of the Unfathomable Mystery. That is idolatry. Hinduism is often seen to be a polytheistic religion, but according to Huston Smith, in his wonderful series of talks with Bill Moyers, the various "gods" of the Hindu pantheon represent all the various aspects of the Divine Mystery, and so are not really separate gods at all. By having a multiplicity of gods, it reminds them that God is no one thing, but all things.

But how do we deal with this as Christians? Does it mean we must jettison all these ideas, the beautiful images given to us in the scriptures? I don't believe so. These images can be important sources of understanding about God and how we are to relate to him. What is important is to remember that they are only images, not the whole thing. What we are called into is engaging directly with the mystery through not knowing. Isaiah also tells us that I am to God as the pot is to the potter. How can the pot understand the potter? The pot is without understanding, without consciousness, without life. How can it understand the living being that creates it? So, what are the capabilities that God possesses that are as far above me as my consciousness, my mind and my life are beyond that of a pile of clay? This is the challenge. This is also the recognition of futility, in that my understanding can never even approach encompassing the whole of what God is. It is enough to bow down and honor the Presence that is the source of life.

Prayer: Dear God, You have endowed me with understanding and the desire to know. Help me accept my limitations with grace, and understand when to abandon intellectual striving and rest gratefully in Your Presence. Amen.

God lasts

Isaiah 40:28 God doesn't come and go. God lasts.

I came back to faith when it became clear that nothing that I was putting my trust in was worthy of it because none of it lasted: not love, not work, not happiness, not even misery; none of it lasted. So I came back seeking a faith, a belief in what does last.

The Buddhists would say that nothing lasts, and that is what God is: no thing. God is immaterial: God cannot be touched with the fingers, or seen with the eyes or heard with the ears; the reality of God lies beyond all the material world. And yet the Christian tradition teaches this paradox: we cannot touch, see or hear God, but we can know God, we can experience God. It requires stillness and patience and openness of heart. It requires letting go of our own agenda and surrendering to whatever is in the present moment. It calls us to open our senses and really see, hear and taste what is here with us and then, in a moment, if we are lucky and grace comes upon us, then, in the words of Blanche DuBois, "sometimes there's God, so quickly." For me, God often shows up in tears or laughter, or an overpowering sense of awe. Such moments are a glimpse into the Divine, and they have created such a hunger and thirst in me to know God more closely and intimately, to read and learn about and try to understand the teachings of the mystics about God, as well as the Bible and leaders of the past and present. And so, I came to faith when everything else disappointed me, and thus discovered my passion, my vocation, my true calling, my spiritual path, my life in faith.

Prayer: Dear God, I am so grateful for the hunger and thirst which you have stirred in me, and that drives me to know you more. I am grateful for the path you have brought me to, with all its challenges, and the transformation of the heart which you are working within me. Help me stay focused on what is essential and leave behind all the rest, so that my life may become increasingly devoted to living in Your Presence, and sharing Your Light with the world. Amen.

You corrupted wisdom

Ezekiel 28:16 You corrupted wisdom by using it to get worldly fame.

I was at a seminar on spirituality and psychology several months ago and the presenter began by speaking about "The Secret". His comment was that the ideas of the secret were absolutely correct and 180 degrees wrong. It turns the notion of the spiritual life into a way to get more of what I "want" -- all the things that I think will make me feel secure and happy (material objects and wealth, fame and renown) which will only pull me more deeply into the world's values. Spiritual values, by contrast, are profoundly and unapologetically counter-cultural. Yes, I can use spiritual understandings, gifts and practices in this way, but it corrupts them and denies me the true fruit: a deep humility which allows me to enter the full richness of each moment, to be an integrated part of life on this planet which is as full of pain and suffering as it is with joy and happiness.

Suffering is the refiner's fire of the spiritual life, and if we try to avoid the inevitable suffering life brings we are condemned to skimming its surface without really engaging with it. So not only do we corrupt the spiritual wisdom offered us, but we miss the greatest gift they have to bestow: the transformation of our own hearts.

Prayer: Dear God, You have called me on a spiritual journey. Help me to stick with it through whatever life brings along the way, and teach me to value the true fruits of my spiritual path. Amen.

A signpost erected between Me and them

Ezekiel 20:12      I also gave them my weekly holy rest days, my "Sabbaths", a kind of signpost erected between me and them to show them that I, God, am in the business of making them Holy.

Last week-end, I did too much, didn't really take a full Sabbath the way I have been, and I could really feel the difference!  I woke up lethargic on Monday, less focused, feeling rushed, and perhaps a bit chided by God.  This is important, I remind myself.  And Ezekiel, here, touches on what makes the Sabbath so important.

Like a sign, a border or an altar of rocks, the Sabbath sets apart time for God.  It marks off the Holy from the ordinary, creates sacred time for me to come back to basics, to my root, my foundation, a sign to God and me and the world about where my primary allegiance lies.  It is fallow time, time to fill the well, to fill up with Presence through slowing down and resting, letting go and surrendering it all to God.  I worship, yes, but also rest, to show that I am a mere human; God is in charge, not me.  God can do it all without my help.  It is an exercise in humility, a recognition that I can withdraw from the world for a day and nothing falls apart, because none of it really depends on me, even though it may feel that way at times.  This setting apart is how God makes me whole, holy, integrated.  It provides balance for activity, a period of restoration, of full reliance on the Spirit to replenish my soul, so that I can re-enter the world with a full tank, ready to live the life God calls me to, ready to respond to the world's need with all that I am and all that I have.  "Life" ceases for one day, which brings more energy and focus to my activity when it resumes. It is a time to pause and reflect, see myself in true perspective, to be present with the One Living God, the Holy Presence, right now, for a whole day of stillness and peace.

Prayer:     Dear God,     In this time of the holidays, it is easy to get overscheduled and forget what it is all really about.  Help me remember that the most important thing I can do during Advent is not shop for presents, or go to concerts, or even visit friends, but to spend time with You, and rest in Your eternal changelessness.     Amen.

Acted out of who I was

Ezekiel 20:22 But I thought better of it and acted out of who I was, not by what I felt, so that I might be honored and not blasphemed by the nations who had seen me bring them out.

God is speaking to Ezekiel about his anger at the Israelites as they wandered in the desert after God had rescued them from Egypt. Despite God's anger, God acted not out of how he felt, but who he WAS. What a startling statement! Who I am is not how I feel. If you had said that to me when I was in my 20's, I would have thought you were crazy. How I felt then practically defined who I was: I am a person who feels. That's from coming from a household, like those of many of my generation whose "greatest generation" parents were also the "stoical" generation, where feelings were not usually expressed, much less discussed.

As I've gotten older, though, I have begun to see that feelings fluctuate; they move and rattle and cascade; they take us up and down and all around the glorious roller coaster of life. So they are part of me, but they are not who I am. Who I am is expressed in my intentions; whose I am is expressed when those intentions follow the teachings of Jesus: to love God and love my neighbor. When I act out of anger, or revenge, or fear, I am acting out of a momentary passion that does not accurately demonstrate my foundation. And the results are often actions which I regret, because they don't proclaim the person Jesus calls me to be. Maybe this is why when people get angry, they often say, "I forgot myself". They really did! Jesus calls me to act lovingly even when I am angry, to be kind even when I am afraid, to be considerate even when my feelings cry out for revenge. It is those intentions that I am called to live out, and which endure past and through the momentary fluctuations of emotions.

Prayer: Dear God, Help me remember who I am and whose I am, even when my emotions run strong, so that I may live out the life of love you call me to. Amen