Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Summing Up: Finding the Kingdom of God

In wrapping up this blog, I'd like to talk about the 20th century spiritual teacher I most admire, a man whose writings greatly influenced my journey toward becoming a Concinnate Christian. That man is Dr. Viktor Frankl.


Exeter Cathedral, Exeter. Photo credit JAT 1997.


Many people on a spiritual path wouldn't include Viktor Frankl among the great 20th century religious and spiritual leaders. Dr. Frankl, after all, was a psychiatrist, not a monk or a religious sage. He wrote books about Logotherapy and Existential Analysis, not lofty theological commentaries on the Bible. Yet this brilliant Austrian Jewish physician scholar, who endured the horrors of WWII Nazi concentration camps and went on to rebuild a life of integrity and compassion after the war, has more in common with the man who lived as Jesus of Nazareth than anyone else I've read.

Dr. Frankl's well-known book Man's Search for Meaning: An Introduction to Logotherapy* is only 189 pages long, including the bibliography. Yet within the pages of this slim book he manages to evoke all the deepest aspects of the human experience. He asks the hardest questions possible about human suffering, and arrives at the astonishing conclusion that even in the midst of unutterable deprivation and torment, even in the face of terrible hunger and cold and illness and fear, human beings can still choose to love and forgive. Nothing can take this choice away from them. Nothing.

Dr. Frankl describes his redemption in this way: "A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth -- that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved [spouse]. In a position of utter desolation, when man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist in enduring his sufferings in the right way -- an honorable way -- in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment. For the first time in my life I was able to understand the meaning of the words, 'The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.'" (page 48)

Further, despite his own deeply personal turmoil, Dr. Frankl retained his ability to objectively study and assess the psychological reactions of his fellow inmates in the camps:

"We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms -- to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.

"And there were always choices to make. Every day, every hour, offered the opportunity to make a decision, a decision which determined whether you would or would not submit to those powers which threatened to rob you of your very self, your inner freedom; which determined whether or not you would become a plaything of circumstances, renouncing freedom and dignity to become molded into the form of the typical inmate.

"Seen from this point of view, the mental reactions of the inmates of a concentration camp must seem more to us than the mere expression of certain physical and sociological conditions. Even through conditions such as lack of sleep, insufficient food and various mental stresses may suggest that the inmates were bound to react in certain ways, in the final analysis it becomes clear that the sort of person the prisoner became was the result of an inner decision, and not the result of camp influences alone. Fundamentally, therefore, any can, even under such circumstances, decide what shall become of him -- mentally and spiritually. He may retain his human dignity even in a concentration camp." (page 75)

Dr. Frankl's fellow inmates taught him about courage -- the courage "to say yes to life" in spite of pain, guilt, and death (page 139). He didn't deny the reality of pain, guilt, and death, didn't try to escape it (page 86). Instead he chose a different path -- the path of helping others find purpose in their lives, of helping others find a way to turn suffering and guilt into accomplishment, change, and responsible action. He became a mentor to those who were searching for meaning, to those who needed help in reclaiming their free will to choose love. He also understood that each person's journey is unique, that no two people will find meaning and insight in exactly the same way. Unlike so many others, he found faith in the true potential of God's children.

I see so much in common between the teachings and methods of Viktor Frankl and those of Jesus son of Joseph! If you really want to understand who Jesus was and what he taught, please read Man's Search for Meaning. Then read it again. And read it again. There is no clearer modern version of Jesus' "Kingdom of God" teachings than Dr. Frankl's book.

Thank you to the readers who have struggled along with me as I tried to put these thoughts on paper. Your support and encouragement have meant more to me than you realize.

I wish you many blessings on your own journey of love, healing, and redemption!

* Viktor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning: An Introduction to Logotherapy. 3rd Ed. Translated by Ilse Lasch. New York: Simon & Schuster/Touchstone, 1984.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

The Crucifixion and Resurrection

Today is Second Advent, so this seems like a good time to talk about miracles.

You'd think that, with all my talk about science and brain chemistry, I'd be the sort of person who would reject the reality of miracles. Because practical people who believe in science are sort of obligated to reject the reality of miracles. Aren't they?

Sunset, October 2014: I captured this dazzling ray effect close to my home when my angels unexpectedly told me to pick up my camera, get in the car, and go! Photo credit JAT 2014.

Most United Church of Canada members seem to think so. They're squeamish about the idea that the soul exists as a scientific reality. Same thing with miracles. Officially, they won't talk about miracles. Off the record, some United Church members will confide they believe in unexplainable, God-given events. But when they talk about miracles, they speak awkwardly and self-consciously -- the same way people react when they're invited to sit at a formal dinner table where there are three different forks on the left and three different knives on the right, plus a whole bunch of spoons, and they don't know which utensils they're supposed to use first. So they spend most of their time trying to watch the other guests to see which fork they should use when. They're so busy paying attention to their feelings of embarrassment and discomfort that they can't enjoy themselves. The whole situation is stressful rather than enjoyable.

I'd like to be able to say that United Church members have gone on the defensive about miracles because of repeated attacks from atheistic scientists such as Richard Dawkins. But it's not that simple. United Church members are on the defensive because they've been repeatedly bullied by "progressive" Christian theologians (e.g. Rudolf Bultmann) who have loudly proclaimed that the miracles performed by Jesus in the Gospels couldn't possibly have happened.

In the view of Bultmann and others, no sensible Christian should believe in these miracles because to believe in miracles is to reject science. These theologians recommend that Christians read the miracle stories . . . symbolically. Symbolically -- my favourite word (grrrr).

These same theologians call into question the reality of the Crucifixion and Resurrection. They insist we should understand the Resurrection metaphorically rather than literally. In their view, the Resurrection couldn't possibly have happened for real. Naturally, this makes it easier to believe that Jesus himself wasn't real, either, but instead was an invented religious symbol.

I think they've got it all backwards. They've started with the assumption that miracles aren't scientifically possible (an assumption that's not scientifically valid), and on the basis of this assumption they've concluded that the miracle stories (especially those in the Gospel of Mark) must have been invented by gullible, superstitious, scientifically uneducated 1st century authors who didn't know any better. Or maybe by authors who were just following a popular ancient trend of inserting invented miracle stories into their biographical narratives. (The fact that today's Christian televangelists are still inventing new miracle stories to dupe the public should remind us not to make blanket statements about the motives of all ancient writers.)

Queen's University history professor Dr. Jaclyn Duffin, who is both a practising hematologist and a professor in the history of medicine (a modern day physician scholar, as it were), has recently published a book about the history of canonization and attested healing miracles in the Roman Catholic Church. She sums up medical miracles in this way: "The doctor is surprised."

The doctor is surprised. The doctor is surprised that, on the basis of current scientific understandings of the disease process, the patient somehow manages to fully recover despite all scientific predictions of imminent death.

I would suggest that when the doctor is surprised, it can mean one of two things: (1) the doctor was wrong from the beginning about the diagnosis or (2) the doctor isn't as smart as she thinks she is about the disease process, quantum biology, healing, and God.

Usually it's the latter.

The Resurrection as described in the Gospel of Mark is very sparse on details. (I agree with biblical scholars who suggest that the book originally ended at Mark 16:8, not at Mark 16:20). All we really know for sure is that Jesus was crucified, was declared dead, was taken down from the cross, hastily placed in a tomb, and somehow managed to disappear from said tomb. Mark's account leaves a lot of scientific wiggle room for a doctor to be surprised.

It's a powerful symbol, the cross that Jesus hung upon. (It's okay for symbols such as crosses or a stars to be symbols; it's just not okay for historical facts to be treated as symbols instead of as facts.) The story of the cross has something important to say to us, even today, because it's still a story where the doctors are surprised and we, the regular people of faith, are filled with awe.

For me, the miracle in this story is not that a man died and was raised from the dead. (I don't think that's scientifically possible.) For me, the miracle is that the man didn't die in the first place.

How did Jesus son of Joseph escape death on the cross? That is the miracle in question.

It's a much bigger question than Paul's Christ myth asks. Paul's Christ myth asks you to believe with blind faith that a human man fully died but was fully returned to life after three days because he was divine -- the chosen son of God. He furthers asks you to believe with blind faith that if you fully accept Paul's teachings about Judgment Day, then you, too, will be resurrected on that day. Sin is the enemy and death is its consequence. The great question for Paul is, "How can I escape death?"
 
The Jesus reality (as told by Mark) asks a different question. The Jesus reality asks you to ask new questions about God. The Jesus reality tells a powerful story about the relationship between God and God's children, and asks you to not rely on blind faith, but to use your own common sense, your own senses, and your heart.

The Jesus reality is a powerful story about the kinds of things that are possible in God's Creation when human beings walk side by side and hand in hand with Mother Father God.

It's a story about courage. And trust. And humbleness. It's a story about God's free will and our own. It's a story about miraculous (though still scientific) healing. And it's a story about grief.

One of the things we can be certain of when we read Mark is that Jesus is not trying to escape death. Jesus has no fear of dying. He tells his disciples he's going to die, but then he gets on with his life of service as a teacher and healer. He ignores all the Jewish purity laws around disease and death. He puts himself in harm's way by going to Jerusalem. His Last Supper is not a last supper but a first supper, where he rejects the Passover ritual of eating unleavened bread by choosing instead to drink water and to eat risen bread. He breaks all the laws designed to protect the pious from death. His message is not about escaping death. His message is about embracing courage and trust and gratitude and devotion in our relationships with each other and with God.
 
The Jesus reality is Mark's way of saying that death is part of human life, and no one -- not even a gifted physician scholar filled with learning and love -- can fight this reality. Jesus had to die because he was a creature of Earth, and all creatures of Earth will one day die. It's meant to be this way. It's part of the fabric of Creation. It's painful and emotionally overwhelming for us to lose someone we love, but it's the way it has to be. Our lives here are only temporary. When it's time for one of us to go Home to our eternal reality, God the Mother and God the Father (both of whom are brilliant scientists and brilliant healers), come and gently lift us out of our mortal body and tenderly carry us Home. There we're reunited with our loved ones, and our hearts break open to pour out all the tears and sorrows of our lonely human lives so we can be healed and restored in God's loving arms.

Yet, despite all this, we're left with a mystery. Despite the reality of Jesus' total trust in God, despite the reality of Jesus' courage in the face of death, we're left with the puzzling fact that God the Mother and God the Father in their wisdom decided that a man named Jesus of Nazareth would not die on the cross that day, but would, in fact, escape that terrible death, and live to tell the tale -- for a short while, anyway, before he, too, surrendered his human life, as all of us one day must.

What is it that God was saying?

Thanks be to God the Mother and God the Father this Advent Sunday.



Friday, December 3, 2010

Hidden in Plain Sight: The Cunning of Paul

You may recall that in an earlier post I put forward the thesis that the Gospel of Mark was written as a direct rebuttal of Paul's First Corinthians ("The Gospel of Mark as a Rebuttal of First Corinthians," August 18, 2010). Today I'd like to talk about that in more detail.

Maybe you're thinking that sounds pretty boring, and you'll go read the sports page for a little blow-by-blow excitement. Bear with me, though. This story is packed with more drama than an NHL brawl combined with a daytime Soap Opera.

“Toews2010WinterOlympics” from Wikimedia Commons – author Rosie Perera – originally posted to Flickr as G9-20100221-3457

 
On one side, we have Team Salvation (blue and white). Team Salvation comes onto the ice first with the biggest, meanest lines you'd ever want to see. Paul is the Captain. His best forward is Luke and his strongest defenceman is Matthew. These guys have stamina and brute strength in spades. They're not nimble. They're not fast. Their wrist shot sucks. Their overall strategy is to slam the other team into the boards, start fights, and keep the puck moving fast so the audience has trouble following the play. They've done this many times before, and they're the crowd favourite, so they're convinced their strategy will work.

On the other side, we have a rookie team, Team Redemption (red and black). Team Redemption is late getting on the ice. Mark is the Captain. His forwards are unknown draft picks. But they're fast and smart and they skate and stickhandle like a young Wayne Gretsky. Team Redemption has only one line, but they play with everything they've got. They put their heart and soul into the game.

Paul scores an easy first goal, as he expected, but then Mark gets the puck. Mark is not like any of the opponents Paul has played before. Paul keeps trying to check him, but Mark seems to have wings on his skates, and he dekes the goalie to score three quick goals. Paul starts a fight and slams Mark's head into the boards. Mark won't quit. So Matthew gets the puck and moves the play across the centre line. It's offside, but the refs don't call it because they're paid on the sly by Paul's team. Mark's wingers retrieve the puck, score another goal with a beautiful slap shot. Paul is furious. He tells Luke to kill the clock until Team Redemption's line drops from exhaustion. Which they do.

Just for the thrill of it, Paul pummels every red jersey who drops to the ice.

Okay. That's the gameplay for the 1st century battle between Paul's team and Mark's team. Only the stakes were much higher for Paul and Mark, and the play was much more brutal than anything you'd see in a 1980's NHL game.

And you thought the New Testament was talking about boring ol' topics like peace, love, and hope!

The biblical book known as First Corinthians is a letter that was written by a confident "team captain." You can tell by the tone of the letter that Paul believes his preaching mission is going fairly well, despite some kinks that have be worked out with the Christian groups who live in the Greek city of Corinth. He's sure of his own authority. He describes himself in glowing terms as "like a master builder [who] laid a foundation" (1 Cor. 3:10). "For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ."

In other words, Paul, the master builder, has chosen as the foundation for all his authority, all his church building, and all his theology one man whom he calls Jesus Christ. This man Jesus is already dead. So Paul figures he can use this man's name and this man's "face" with impunity.

For a while, he gets away with it. (Goal #1). But he doesn't count on a direct challenge to his fabricated claim about "the Christ." He doesn't count on copies of his letter to the Corinthians ending up in Palestine. He doesn't count on somebody -- a somebody who knows a lot about the actual Jesus in question -- reading the copied letter and objecting vehemently to the content. He doesn't count on this somebody writing a searing point-by-point rebuttal of Paul's claims. He doesn't count on the courage of a man who wants to tell the truth about the life and teachings of Jesus son of Joseph.

By the time Mark writes his rebuttal in the early to mid 60's (a few years before the Romans destroyed the Jerusalem Temple), Paul himself can't do anything about it. (He seems to have stopped writing in the late 50's, and we don't know for certain what happened to him.) But his successors can do something to undermine the dangerous assertions made by Mark. They can take Mark's manuscript and do a hatchet job on it, cutting and pasting the various fragments into new compositions (the Gospel of Matthew, the Gospel of Luke), new compositions that change the original meaning and intent of Mark's portrayal of Jesus. They can try to force a blue and white jersey onto a physician scholar who was clearly playing for the red and black team, and if they're lucky, the audience will be so confused by the changing scorecard that they won't contest the final score of the game.

Based on the lasting success of Paul's strategy, along with his successors' strategies in the orthodox Western Church, I'd say his plan was quite effective. Ruthless. Heartless. Cruel. Inhumane. But very, very effective.