Vision and Being

I have been receiving much these past few days – I don’t know exactly how many. I guess if I looked at the date of my last post, it might give me an idea… but each day is like the others, and yet each moment is its own. And what do we know of time, really? We certainly haven’t mastered it in all our years of human life on this earth. Anyhow all this is just to say that although it is nearly 2 a.m. and losing sleep feeds my anxiety, I feel compelled to sort out what I am feeling, and I do that best by writing, my most sound form of expression and relinquishment.

I have been reading from several authors: Trevor Hudson’s Christ-Following, Anthony de Mello’s Song of the Bird, and the daily email meditations of Richard Rohr. I must also express gratitude for the small but not inconsequential words or inspirations from family, friends, and any other subtle sources in my life, as I think they often contribute as much or more to my spiritual journey and personal growth as any great endeavor does.

I don’t really know where I am going with this; I don’t know if it is possible to synthesize all that I have been taking in, or if there is a highlight at least that I can share… So I will just write what comes to mind, and edit later if necessary.

Many of the stories from Song of the Bird have expressed similar themes to my last post, which was largely about letting go, allowing things around me and within me to be what they are and must be. This theme is still at work within me, and though like the deer I may appear to be at rest in the thick of the day, the chambers of my heart are doing their work of digestion, much like the four chambers of the White-tail’s stomach. Ruminating.

I’ve spent many years on a farm, and have witnessed up close this process in the mouths of goats – “chewing cud,” and I can tell you that while it is effective, it is not always pleasant. Burping up grass to chew it some more? I hope for their sake it tastes better than it smells, and better than the green stains it leaves on the corners of t-shirts… Sometimes the things that seem gross or unpleasant, and we wish unnecessary, are the very things that keep us going, nourishing new life. My process may not seem like much from day to day, and it might even be painful or troubling at times – even frightening – but I must have grace for myself, and trust in the grace my God offers so generously and unconditionally, even when I can’t see it. Just be, and allow the process to be. Let my ruminating heart work it out for my mind. […maybe this explains why my breath is so bad in the morning?]

This is already a long post (I don’t actually know that, I haven’t read a lot of blogs… oh well), but since I have already let all pretense of practicality go, I will trust the prompting of my spirit and keep writing. If you haven’t the time, please come back and read this next part later.

Two other big things I have been reading about, in the aforementioned sources, are my image of God, and Jesus as the man and as the Christ. I will try to explain all this briefly, but in a meaningful way. The important thing is that I share my journey, and maybe give you some of your own cud to chew.

Trevor Hudson begins his book, subtitled “ten signposts to spirituality,” with the question “What is your picture of God?” He believes (and has experienced) that our image of God – who or what God is, what God is like, how God behaves, etc – determines how we will live our lives. For example, if we see God as mean or vindictive, we may respond and live out of fear or anger; if we see God as uninterested or perhaps powerless to change our life, we may respond with indifference or inaction ourselves. If we see God as benevolent and loving, we may respond and live with kindness and love for ourselves and others.

Whether we are aware of it or not, Hudson says, “in each of our hearts and minds there is drawn our picture of God,” a picture shaped by experiences, influences, and prominent individuals throughout our lives. He shares his own discovery that he “had come to view God as a somewhat passive spectator, sitting in the balcony of my life, whose applause would only come in response to satisfactory performance.” He goes on to say that a dysfunctional view of God led to dysfunctional ways of living, even in things that would seem at first unrelated.

This struck a deep chord in me. It took but a moment of consideration to see that my own picture of God was/is very similar to his. In spite of everything I was taught about God’s goodness, love, and desire for relationship, I have come to view him as passive. I never believed I was concerned about “doing good works to earn God’s approval,” but I discovered that I always blame myself when I feel something in my life is lacking. If I feel distant from God, it must be my fault. I don’t pray very often. I don’t read the bible every day. I don’t spend time with God, so it’s my fault. He is waiting for me to do what I’m supposed to do. I must reflect that this kind of thinking has been commonplace for quite a while in my mind and heart.

It is not too hard to see the flaws in our drawings of God if we take time to examine them. I can see where mine come from, too. There have been a lot of influential people in my life – especially my childhood – who were passive; as I became a young adult, one of my greatest frustrations with the church I grew up in was its unchanging nature. I have been plagued most of my life with indecision and inaction. There was drawn in my heart a picture of a passive God up in the clouds, and I responded in like kind.

But we can change our image, redraw our picture of God. Hudson writes of God as “a boundless mystery,” and as Christlike, revealed in the Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection. This is where the synthesizing begins.

I have come to believe that Jesus was a figure of peace, love, and active compassion. I believe his life is a model for his followers, including myself. I believe he is God incarnate, and is an example of what God is like. I believe that in his divinity he conquered death, and although he is not visible to me he is alive. Hudson’s first chapter discusses these aspects of Christ as important in re-drawing our God picture; but this is where I am still ruminating. I have trouble seeing God and Jesus as one and the same. Although I have been taught that God is “three-in-one,” father, son, and spirit, I have held a firmly separate picture of each. The trinity is a mystery to me. I can see why Islam feels Christianity is not monotheistic. I don’t expect, however, that the nature of God should not hold mystery, and therefore God as Triune God should be mysterious for the singular human experience. And perhaps the distinctness of the Trinity is limited by the human need to categorize and control; God need not be three persons, but simply multifaceted. That would make more sense to me. Not that sense matters. But now I’m beginning to ramble…

So I should conclude by saying that this is who I am in this moment. I am someone perplexed by the divine. I am needing a new portrait of God, and searching for artists to give patronage. And I am simultaneously wrapped up and unravelled in Jesus the man and the Christ, the image of God. Place all of this in the daily routine, the weakness of the human body, and you have a clearly muddy picture of my present journey. But walk with me a bit, perhaps we can teach each other…

Peace,

Jason