Going to Hell

What a catchy title, huh?

So, I'm plugging a book for a friend of mine, Fr. Rick Morley, an Episcopal priest who used to live right here in my little town of Lonaconing, MD. Rick's book discusses the difference between what people/churches/etc. say we need to be "saved," and what Jesus says about how to be "saved" throughout the gospels. Is salvation based on faith alone? Works-based faith? Something more than that?

Who's "right" when it comes to issues of salvation?

from page 70: "The Good News here is that there is no checklist of good deeds to fill out. Jesus is talking about a manner of living here, and it’s one that isn’t motivated out of the fear of Hell or the hope of heaven, but a life that’s driven by an authentic love."

Specific parables and dialogues from the gospels are presented, which offer different perspectives on this question, which Rick then asks, "Right here, what exactly does Jesus say that salvation depends on?"

My prediction is that this book will be a bit offensive to fundamentalists, challenging to radical liberals, and, hopefully, somewhat uncomfortable to us all, because Jesus came to call us out of our comfort zones and truly examine our lives lived in relationship with Him.

Rick approached me with this book, still only in digital format and not yet published, and asked me what I thought. Very humbled, but also very excited to be a part of his editing process, I did as he asked, read it, and responded to the questions that he asks. When the book was published, and I received a print edition, I was once again humbled to see that some the comments I offered him became small changes in the book's content.

So, yes, there is a little bit of me in there too.

Read the book, it's a dialogue, and is written in such a way as to spark further dialogue, not only with others, but with yourself, and with Jesus Christ. Jesus, what exactly are you saying that salvation depends on?

God and Tao

I read an article today, by a fellow named Michael Gleghorn, called Philosophical Taosim: A Christian Appraisal. Gleghorn briefly introduces Taoism and Lao Tzu, who wrote the Tao Te Ching, which is foundational to Taoism. Quoting an outside source, Gleghorn says that the whole point of Taoism is "to live in a way that conserves life's vitality by not expending it in useless, draining ways, the chief of which are friction and conflict."

He goes on to discuss, what he believes, to be the principle difference between Taoism and Christianity: that Tao is unavoidably impersonal, whereas the Christian God is fundamentally personal.

However, he later quotes Chapter 67 of the Tao Te Ching, which seems to indicate that Tao is not the same as God(heaven):

Everyone under heaven calls my Tao great, and unlike anything else.

It is great only because it is unlike anything else. If it were like anything else it would stretch and become thin.

I have three treasures to maintain and conserve: The first is compassion. The second is frugality. The third is not presuming to be first under heaven.

Compassion leads to courage. Frugality allows generosity. Not presuming to be first creates a lasting instrument.

Nowadays, people reject compassion, but want to be brave. Reject frugality, but want to be generous. Reject humilty, and want to come first.

This is death.

Compassion: attack with it and win. Defend with it and stand firm.

Heaven aids and protects through compassion.

-translation by Stephen Addiss and Stanley Lombardo, Copyright 1993, Hackett Publishing Co.

Gleghorn also quotes Chapter 62 of the Tao Te Ching which, reading through fully (his article does not present the reader with the entire text of this chapter), does not seem to support his argument:

Tao is the mysterious center of all things, a treasure for those who are good, a refuge for those who are not.

Beautiful words can be traded, noble deeds can enhance reputations, but if people lack them, why should they be rejected?

When the Son of Heaven is enthroned and the Three Ministers installed, presenting jade discs and four-horse chariots cannot compare to sitting still and offering the Tao.

The ancients honored this Tao. Didn't they say: through it seekers find, through it the guilty escape? This is why Tao is honored under Heaven.

-This text comes from the same source as the above translation.

Gleghorn keeps returning to his argument that Tao cannot be God, because Tao is impersonal, and God is personal. But is he not missing the point? Perhaps that is not what the Tao Te Ching says at all, perhaps Lao Tzu was not trying to assert that Tao is God, or Heaven, but rather, Tao is the Way of Heaven, as Tao means Way?

Look at the very last section of Chapter 62, which was all that Gleghorn quoted in his article. The idea of Tao, as presented here, does not seem mutually exclusive to theism at all, or Christianity, as Gleghorn asserts.

My, albeit, limited knowledge of the Tao Te Ching leads me to see it this way. Tao is not meant to replace God; at least Tao does not necessarily have to replace God, because Tao is, as Gleghorn himself describes, "the way of all things: the way of nature, of society, and of oneself." Therefore, Tao is a concept, not a being, as God is a being.

So how is this exclusive to the Christian God?

When the "I" is Silent

As a part of my Lenten discipline this year, I have been attempting to be more focused on spiritual reading. Along with this, I have also recognized a need within myself to better understand and explore the Old Testament. The need to strengthen these two disciplines in my life have led me to Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of the British Commonwealth, who is writing a series of spiritual commentaries/devotionals on the parashat hashavua - the weekly portion of Torah (Old Testament) that is normally read at synagogue. The parasha readings are basically like the Lectionary in the Christian Church, which divide the bible into weekly or daily readings. Rabbi Sacks writes four 'articles' on each parasha reading, as they are usually about 3-4 chapters in length anyway. Drawing from rabbinical sources and Talmudic sources, with which most Christian authors I've read are unfamiliar, Rabbi Sacks engages the Torah in a dialogue that opens up the world of the Old Testament to me in ways I, myself, have never known.

This week's parasha is from Gen. 28:10-32:3, the story of Jacob when he leaves home, fleeing his brother Esau, from whom he stole his father's birthright. Jacob camped at Bethel, and that night had a dream. He saw a stairway or a ladder reaching from the heavens down to the earth, and angels were ascending and descending upon it.

When Jacob woke later, he said to himself, "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I, I knew it not." Rabbi Sacks points out that there is a repetition of the word "I" in this statement, which appears to be superfluous. But the extra "I" is not superfluous; it is, in fact, important. He writes "we sense the "Thou" of the Divine Presence when we move beyond the "I" of egocentricity." When we are centered on ourselves, we lose sight of the world around us; we begin to lose the ability to recognize God when we see only ourselves, when the "I" gets in the way.

Rabbi Sacks points out that the medicine for this is prayer. Lehitpalel is the Hebrew verb, meaning "to pray." It "is reflexive, implying an action done to oneself. Literally, it means 'to judge oneself. It means to escape from the prison of the self and see the world, including ourselves, from the outside." Prayer is how we set aside the "I" for a time and become aware of the reality that is God - above us, around us, within us, beyond us. And when the "I" is silent, when we pray, our lives begin to change. Prayer changes us.

I remember reading Walter Wangerin and Richard Foster years ago, both of whom emphasized this as well. Prayer has the effect of changing us because it removes the "I," and focuses on "Thou," the Divine Presence of God. Rabbi Sacks says that it is in that moment that we can say, with Jacob, "I know not the I. I know only God."

Matthew 6.24-34

It seems like I’ve been saying to you a lot lately, “This is a difficult passage.” But as I read today’s gospel lesson, it is a difficult passage. Really though, all of the Sermon on the Mount is more than a little challenging to us. Today’s lesson, though, is a bit different than the last few Sunday’s about following the Law. Today’s lesson is about trust.

Jesus says, “No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”

Well, you may have heard this passage differently before, as the Greek word that is translated here as wealth is mammon. Mammon does not exclusively refer to wealth, but is a derivation of a Hebrew word that comes from Aramaic...to make things simple. And if my Hebrew is bad, my Aramaic is even worse, but thankfully I went to seminary that taught us how to use certain tools, and, well basically I cheated. The word is used for anything of value: property, slaves, earthly goods.

That’s about as far as the translation goes. Other things in Greek that I look up, have pages and pages and pages about just one word. Mammon has one and a half. But it says a lot.

Where do we put our trust? What do we hold on to in life for security? Jesus says don’t worry about what you will eat, drink, or wear. Really? Does he not understand that “Western economies depend on massive spending on commodities people do not need?” Does he not know that our large and growing industry of mood-altering drugs is based on our inability to not worry? And I’m not just talking about illegal drugs. More people now than ever before in history are being medicated for one psychiatric condition or another. The problem is getting worse, not better.

And Jesus says don’t worry. Aren’t some things worth worrying about, though? Like starving, homeless refugees in war-torn parts of the world. They are innocent, and many of them were driven away from their homes because they are Christians. Shouldn’t we worry about them, even just a little bit? Shouldn’t we worry for them?

I give thanks to God every time I sit down to a meal, because there really are those who won’t get to eat today, or tomorrow, and did not eat yesterday. Did you know that, after a while, you actually stop feeling hungry?

Now, when Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, he fasted forty days, and so the Devil tempted him with food, but Jesus refused to break his fast, saying that we do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. And because Jesus said that, this passage in the Sermon on the Mount has often been spiritualized to show Jesus saying that we shouldn’t worry about our next meal, but instead we should worry about our spiritual well-being.

I disagree with that interpretation of the text, I think it completely robs the text of its intended meaning, but so often it is easier to avoid what Jesus actually says in favor of what we want him to say. Jesus said do not worry. He didn’t say don’t worry only about physical things so that we can focus on spiritual things, he simply said, do not worry. And that is hard to do.

In 2000, I went to East Africa with a group of college students on a short-term mission tour. Among many things, we visited the slums. Now, before I get too far into it, I have to point out that Africa is not like what they show on those sponsorship commercials on TV, where everyone is starving and naked and lying in the street. The standard of living is simply different, people can live well on very little, unlike America.

But after visiting that slum, I would venture to guess that some of those commercials are filmed right there. Starvation literally looked me in the face, through the eyes of little children, whom we were told had probably either not eaten in two or three days, or ate the crumbs that their parents gave to them, which meant of course that their parents went hungry.

It didn’t take us long to distribute every scrap of food that we had with us to those children, and what happened next utterly shook me. They didn’t expect more, they didn’t fight over what we gave them. They didn’t give us any looks of why-don’t-you-do-more-for-us-you-fat-white-American (and believe me, in that place, I probably would have been considered more than well-fed).

They praised God. They sang to the Lord and thanked the Almighty for what He had given them. It was a snack. I probably eat five times that much for dinner, but I doubt that many of these kids had ever held that much food in their hands at one time.

We do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. The world today produces enough food to feed the entire world today. Did you know that? The United States gives more money to missionary-type organizations than any other country in the world, but considering that we are still one of the largest and most economically stable countries in the world, our giving is dead last compared to others.

So after all is said and done here, I now have to tell you that I don’t have an answer to the question that is on my mind from this passage, and probably on each of your minds as well. How in the world are we to stop worrying? It’s hard enough to stop worrying about ourselves, but when we look at the state this world is in, it’s almost enough to make me sit down and cry.
It’s almost enough to make me want to do something about it. What did worrying ever bring us, what did it ever get us? More worries. Fear. Depression.

But the opposite of worrying is trust. Trust in God. Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and all these things: food, drink, clothing, life, will be given to you as well. They will also be given to others, because that is what God wants for us in His Kingdom.

Food and drink, clothing, life. That covers just about everything that we have that we worry about, around here, isn’t it? I think that this message might need to be a little bit different for the people in the slums of Emanyatta, but to us it is just that. Trust in God, not in material gain. Life is more than food, and the body is more than clothing.

Living a life of worry means living a life of fear, as it is fear that fuels worry. Where there is fear there is little room for trust and hope, which is what Jesus offers us. So what I have learned from my time with the people of East Africa is that I need to constantly remind myself and challenge myself to let go of my fears, and to focus on what is positive, what is of God and give thanks. That is probably the biggest difference that I saw between them and us. They gave thanks, we ask for more.

I cannot alleviate the sufferings of the world, I cannot alleviate all of your sufferings or even my own, but that’s life. What I can do is live that life in witness to God’s Way. I can be changed by it, I can be the change that I want to see in others. And while it may not be so easy to stop worrying, especially when we are so good at it, we can practice. Amen.

Tae Kwon Do Philosophy

I came across this neat little article on martial arts philosophy today on the Tae Kwon Do Network (http://www.taekwondo-network.com). Thought I would post it in celebration of passing my belt test last night.

Tae kwon do philosophy can be described as an idealistic and physical means of becoming one with the universe through the study of martial art.

Living fully and in harmony with ones surroundings through the perfection of the art is living on the path or do.

In its grandest sense, practice of Tae kwon do is to seek transcendence and thereby happiness.

Many seek happiness by practicing a healthy life style. Having good eating habits, using meditation techniques and more. All come together to shape a fuller, more meaningful and happier life.

Men, women and children alike, are greatly intrigued by the martial arts. Whether seen in the movies, television or storefront window of a school, there is something unique about the art that draws you in.

Those few individuals who decide to study martial arts specifically to learn how to fight, ignoring the other aspects of its nature, are missing the true meaning of tae kwon do.Tae kwon do philosophy tells us that training in the way (do) is truly a way of life.

You may ask, “How does learning to kick, punch and yell while I break a piece of wood become a way of life?”

To see only kicking, punching and yelling is to not look at the underlying purpose of the martial arts.

The study of tae kwon do requires intense physical and mental training. Through this training we begin to unify all the aspects of life, physical-mental-emotional-spiritual, that make us human.

The individual who is new to the martial arts or tae kwon do in particular is thinking,

“I just wanted to learn some self-defense moves. I didn’t know taekwondo was so involved.”

Or maybe they were just looking to get into shape, to be strong and healthy.

I would tell them, these are admirable, wonderful goals that should definitely be pursued.

In tae kwon do training, we strive for inner peace.

One means to the peace that I have been taught is called pyung sang shim which translates as an always peaceful mind.

The philosophy behind pyung sang shim however, far exceeds its simple translation.

If you are living with an always peaceful mind you have achieved a higher level of being. It can take years to reach this balance.

You can see how much there is to appreciate around you.

We must actively show appreciation for the things we already have. Most people are surrounded by blessings they may not even see.

The greater our status becomes, the more thankful and humble we should be to truly appreciate what we have.

Pyung sang shim allows you to be ready to help others who could benefit from your experience. The more we have to give to others, the more we will receive in return.

You take care of your body and treat it well.

To be able to give to others, you have to first love yourself and that includes taking care of your body by eating well, resting, exercising and relieving stress.

When you can live with an always peaceful mind, you will find great happiness.