Loneliness:

It is that time of the year that causes immense suffering for those who are lonely. Which makes me think of what I am called to do by Christ. I am called to love even those who are difficult to love, the least among us.

A few weeks ago I participated in a conversation about this very thing, if you will. The question asked was, "I know I am called to love my neighbor, but do I have to like her?" The consensus in the group was, "No. You have to love her, but you don't have to like her." And with that answer the intent was that this person need not associate with her annoying friend, need not include her in her group, etc.--in short, shun her.

Who am I to buck the group? I'm one small voice. The norm of the group is to allow that a person has some deep-seated personality flaws and she is difficult to have around, she does some socially irresponsible things and hurts people in the process and so--even though only God would know it--we love her (how?) but exclude her. Note, this isn't a person who is intentionally abusive. She probably hasn't got a clue what others don't like about her. She isn't socially adept. I, on the other hand, think that if I am loving toward my neighbor, then my neighbor knows it. Far be it from me to be very judgmental, truth be told, so my voice wasn't very loud. But like so many other ways we don't do the hard things we are called to do, loving the least among us is a biggy we'd rather forgive in ourselves and avoid rather than change.

There are lonely people that I am not taking care of at this time and so guilt is contributing as much to my silence in the group as the outcry against my better judgment. But self-examination leaves me with the burden of doing something about my unloving and un-Christlike burden. I do have to love the people that are difficult to love. From the opposite side of the same street, I realize that I am hurt by the people who don't seem to find me to be a lovable, worthwhile person. I know that I am not deserving of their unloving behavior! ;) So, who am I to do the same thing to somebody else?

When my children were growing up, they were normal. It hurt them to be normal. At about age thirteen or so, the painful truth that they were not among the most popular kids in the school caused untold misery. I especially had to give my eldest child several pep talks on the subject. In every school, indeed in every place we go in life, there will be the few, the pacesetters, the top dogs, the few at the top of the heap. But the vast majority of us have to endure being average: somewhat liked, often disliked; sometimes agreed with, often disagreed with; sometimes respected and often reviled; sometimes included, often excluded; sometimes noticed, often overlooked. There is only room at the top for two or three and the second tier are their favored inner-circle, beyond that are all the rest of us.

What makes a person popular? Is it their intelligence? No . . . I know some totally intelligent people that are dreadful to be around. Is it that they always say and do the right things? No . . . I've seen popular people say and do dreadful things. In short, I've never figured out any reason for them to be popular that they did intentionally. It seems to be more like . . . an accident of birth. It is more like being born with a certain skin color, or into a wealthy home, or artistically talented, or mathematically inclined. But I must say that being socially adept and popular is good for the self-esteem.

Yesterday I wrote about Thanksgiving and family. Families are a case in point! We get tossed together with some of the strangest people! There are definitely people in every family that are a pain. We have to look deep for their worthiness to love, ignore a lot of bad behavior, brush aside past hurts and sit at the same table.

My point isn't so much that there are unpopular people as it is that some people are more difficult to like, more distant and hard to get to know than others, shy and uninclined to speak up and so go unnoticed. For a myriad of reasons, the lonely are among us. In the first example, the woman in question was bossy.

While running an errand and thinking on this subject, I remembered a man I once knew. He was rude, never curbed his tongue, critical of everybody--a real bear! I hated to be anywhere near him and I usually did avoid him. We worked together at the children's home. But let me tell you, when one of those kids was in some sort of trouble or in need, he would move earth and sky to take care of them. That rough exterior was hiding a heart as big as all outdoors! In the long run, I would say that he is one of the best people that I have ever known. He wasn't a bear! He was a huge grumpy teddy-bear!

I've been thinking a lot about Anne Lamott's book, Grace (Eventually). I suffer a sense of guilt because most of my religious counterparts read more meaty theological works. But what Anne is dealing with is the grit of Grace--the living out of faith. It is the most complex theology of all! How do we live out our faith. I don't recall a single meaty theological discussion that dealt with loving the least among us, even those who are difficult to love.

In this book she tells about a woman's husband who has some deep personality flaws and was, shall I say, to be avoided if possible. I gather he'd corner Anne and talk her ear off on some subject ad infinitum. But Anne's friend, who was fighting cancer, was struggling through a heat wave and suffering. Her husband bought an A/C--spur of the moment with funds saved for a vacation. He courted his wife's anger, he defied her wishes--all because he loved her and loved her life. It was grace, I gather, for Anne to see in him something worth loving and to appreciate the fact that he loved her friend.

I hold that every person has both good and not so good--shall I say bad?--personality traits, but all are lovable if we just find what it is that is lovable about them. And it is harder to find love for some than it is for others. I also hold that we are all children of God and we are all called to love each other. And loving does mean that the object of our love knows they are loved. So, loving the least among us, loving even those who are difficult to love, does actually include loving those we don't like. It may not mean that we must be with them day in and day out or include them in all our activities, but it should mean that we tolerate even those who annoy us, that we greet them in such a friendly way that they feel loved and welcomed when they come our way; that we forgive them for their stupidity; it may mean that we allow them to approach us and talk to us at a party and it may mean that we are willing to speak to them, pick up the phone, if they call. It may mean that we are so open to them that if they whispered their pain, we would hear it.

kataphatic theology:

Humbly, I'd never heard of it before. Note that I did not capitalize it. I know about kataphatic practice. I understand the concept of negation--or at least I understand it in the way a book keeper differs in understanding the books from the way an accountant will. I understand its application. This morning I visited Maggie Ross' site again and she sent me on a tangent of research at the beginners level to try to understand. She is quite the intellectual. I began with Wikipedia!

She may help me make that leap I've never quite managed to make into a more intellectual pursuit of the mysteries that intrigue me. I had resented the introduction of psychology into explaining mysticism. Not that I resent science, but I resent tangling science and religion in such a way that the science seems to subtract from the experience of faith. Evelyn Underhill, in her famous work, Mysticism, was the first to assault my prejudices. Perhaps I am more receptive now to the idea. At least I don't mind using psychology to attempt to explain the phenomenon, but I have accosted those who tangle psychological terms and religious terms in such a way that the confusing muck that remains once they are done is sufficient to bog down any communication. I hate the misuse of the word ego as a substitute for soul. I think it is an injustice to both the science and the practice of faith.

I guess I am taking this two ways this morning. My first consideration is how to communicate concepts such as kataphatic theology. Maggie dislikes the use of the word spiritual. I recoiled because, quite honestly, I am such an ignoramus! I'd be ashamed to say to her, "I use the term, but simply because I haven't found a better term to express it."

Communication in my mind means to communicate to anybody--not just the limited few, but across boundaries, from catholic to protestant or Christian to Buddhist and maybe even educated to uneducated, although I fall into the uneducated in religion category. What good does it do to speak past each other or to mull over a theology that is so advanced in the way we have rendered it through our vocabulary that it can't touch the ground from the lofty heights of its ivory tower? If it is not going to help the masses, then it isn't worth the effort to think about it. Until we have overcome the language barrier and learn to speak to each other in a shared vocabulary we tend to speak past each other. How does a liberal speak to a conservative, or a Catholic to a Baptist? In the end she mentions using the word faith, since she likes it. I thought of all the baggage that I have found dragging along with the word faith. I have asked people to define the word faith and I get all sorts of responses. So, if I use the word faith, or spiritual for that matter, the baggage the person carries is going to define how they receive the message and it will tint their understanding. One reality, many religions!

It may occur to somebody that the current tendency to anti-intellectualism especially on the far right side of Christendom might just be a response to this phenomenon! If it can't be rendered into the common tongue, perhaps it isn't worth saying at all!

Going back to the original subject of theology, a word M.R. also claims to not like but must find necessary as she mentioned kataphatic theology. Another term that could apply is via negativa.

I like the idea of thinking in terms of what God is not. It battles the stereotypes of God that I am always battling. Let God define God. Negating is sort of like imagining infinity, a mind numbing leap into something that can't quite be quantified, qualified, so huge it can't be limiting, insistantly expanding, each barrier in turn vaporizing and vanishing; the vision begins to sweep a wide arc from peripheral to peripheral, a whole spectrum, like radar, alert to the blackness, the stillness and the void, with no expectations, dry of emotion, empty and unfilled. Open, waiting and not waiting, not even aware that the hope that a bright spot of light, a blip on the radar screen, can fill my understanding and leave without having defined itself.

Wikipedia has all those little blue lines! Each one is clickable. It is like looking up a word in the dictionary and finding five more that need to be looked up before the original word can be understood. I ended up downloading the complete works of Dionysius the Areopagite. I might as well begin at the beginning. At this rate, it will take 2,000 years for me to finally get a foothold on postmodern soil. So, now all I need to do is wrangle the theology into the practice so I can understand . . .

Dogma*

There is considerable contention within Christianity and among its divisions over certain aspects of the faith, very old aspects, such as dogma and doctrine. The legacy of the reformation has created a body of Christians who loathe the very idea and like to point fingers and declare their view to be authoritatively based on scripture alone. It is one of those contentious little details that I perceive as a fallacy, one of those hypocritical acts of finger pointing that people of all makes and models are prone to do.

A lot of that dogma has to do with creating the right atmosphere. By that I mean to include all that is within the scope of the spiritual Christian and faith. There are many ways to do that, perhaps. Some people may find the right atmosphere sitting on a hilltop watching the sun set. In other words, the essentials can be stripped down to their bare essentials but there will be a body of knowledge and of practice that the Christian accepts and understands. Whether it is the Church itself that has determined these essentials or a protestant denomination or a single individual it remains technically dogma to those who follow it.

Atonement is a biggy! There is a confusing array of potential doctrines, but as with so many things of faith we can poke holes in all of them or they all fall short of explaining exactly what happened. My own doctrine, if you will pardon me, is that God perceived that we humans wouldn’t be able to accept forgiveness unless we understood that a price had been paid and so it was arranged. I don’t think God needed to sacrifice his only son. God can do anything. It simply reflects the story of Abraham and builds on the ultimate potential sacrifice for the satisfaction of sin. So, our Lord died to save a bunch of goats. *Said with a smile, of course!* Actually, it is a whole lot more complex and I don’t know how to write it. I don’t like rotten tomatoes, either.

At any rate, when we approach God in prayer, we know that we have been washed clean and we know that it isn’t something that we did. It makes God more approachable and at the same time still instrumental to our well-being. So our knowledge of sin creates a right state where pride has died and humility reigns.

I don't think it is ever in believing any thing about God (Christ). I think it is in believing IN, or having faith in Christ, the person. Faith being complete trust. Contemplation requires emptying ourselves, the "Cloud of Forgetting". It isn’t in knowing the right stuff. It is not thinking the right thoughts. It is rather like not thinking at all. It is an act of opening ourselves up to the one we call on. That's why so many find the foreshortened Jesus prayer so effective. Some of us, however have overactive minds. We are so totally self-absorbed that it takes more to bring us into his presence.

In the Church, the ancients used song (chant) psalmody and prayer, reading and contemplating and praying the scriptures to empty the mind in an active way. Or rather, as a means of losing self-awareness. I say I am a reader and I can read my way into the right state. St. Mary was often depicted with a Bible on her lap as a contemplative early on. That was her as role model.

Rituals tell us when God is active among us so that we are more open to his presence and accepting. It isn't that God isn't present at all times, but that we need help sometimes in opening ourselves up to his presence. People may reject those rituals, but they replace them with other rituals they don't call rituals but they still believe that God meets them in their anti-rituals.

An example of such a ritual would be the requirement of the Fundamentalists that baptism is only done after a person has repented of the sin and accepted Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. It would be by submersion only and infant baptism is not considered either valid or possible. To claim that this is not a ritual would be ridiculous. To claim that it is not a tradition would be equally ridiculous. It has become both for them in their practice of faith. Thus the hypocrisy! But it serves the same purpose. Almost.

Splitting hairs over a word is ridiculous. The scriptures, especially the Epistles, are full of what we are to do and what we are not to do, of what we are to believe and where we might err. To claim that dogma is an invention of later days is a waste of effort! Official dogma was mankind’s effort to set into concrete something they were afraid somebody else might come along and change. Note that I like rock and concrete for their very concreteness.

Find God wherever you can. I find God in my garden, in the pefection of his creation as in the moist cool earth in spring or the opacity of a flower petal. I find God in the dark of night when I am alone and afraid and he calms me. I find God in an infants face, in the trickle of water from a rock, in a bird's song from a treetop. And one night in Holy Week, I left the Church with an unsatisfied feeling only to find what I was searching for in the midnight blue sky dominated by the full moon.

It is not anything ABOUT God, it is not "right belief" or "right doctrine." God is not in a place such as a church building while not being outside its doors. God is not in a cross and he certainly is not within the covers of a book or at least no more so than he is in a handful of dirt (the very rocks would cry aloud). God is Spirit. It is all about seeking God and where he can be found and listening to God and hearing God--an active, living presence.

The problem, I think, is that if I tell you that the only way that you can seek God is to do it my way. God is so much bigger than that!