Magic and Miracles - Reflections on the Hero's Journey

This is from a sermon I preached in 2008... yet it is strangely relevant today

“Magic and Miracles”

Exodus 17: 1-7; Psalm 78: 1-4, 12-16; Matthew 21:23-32

                                                          

Raise your hand if the Bible seems like it is about a bunch of people who died a long time ago, whose lives and culture were so different from ours, that we really can't relate.  

Okay.  

Hands down. 

Now raise your hand if you believe that the Bible was written for all people of all time. 

Hands down.  

Thank you.  

Me too.  

You see, both are true for me, depending on the day.  

But one thing I do know is that people are people, no matter what era or culture we live in. And there is a universality about our human condition---a common ground when it comes to our fears, struggles, and longings---that transcends all our cultural and generational differences.  We really aren’t that different from each other, deep down inside.  

Because of that, the stories in the Bible truly can resonate for us today, no matter how different the time and culture may seem to be.

So, in today’s Psalm we heard about “dark sayings of old,” passed down from our ancestors.  In our story from Exodus we see an old man with a staff magically bring water gushing out of a dead, dry rock.  Staffs and magic.  It all sounds like something out of Harry Potter. 

Who knew that Dumbledore was in the Bible?  Or Gandalf, or Merlin?  But think of Moses, with his flowing white beard and great staff of power, struggling to lead a rag-tag group of wanderers on a long and desperate journey.  It’s starting to sound rather similar.

Well, as this is a Swedenborgian church, let’s see what Swedenborg has to say about it all.  .... I looked, but I couldn't find a single remark about Harry Potter in any of Swedenborg’s books.  

But Swedenborg does talk about magic wands.

 

Actually, Swedenborg talks about “correspondences,” which is ancient, ancient wisdom.  The earliest peoples saw the interconnectedness of all things and lived in a constant state of deep spiritual awareness.  This kind of wisdom has been lost for centuries.  We see only traces of it in ancient cultures, like the way the Celts believed that trees had spirits, and the first nation peoples used totem animals to represent different strengths in their tribes, and the way the aboriginals of many lands seem to intuitively know which plants are good for healing.

Moses used a staff (or big magic wand) because of what a staff corresponds to---a staff represents wisdom and power.  Kings held scepters for the same symbolic reason.  Merlin and Gandalf were given staffs because that same ancient knowing is carved so deeply into our imaginations.

A hand, or “right hand” symbolizes a person’s power, and a staff was an extension of that hand. That is why Moses was told to stretch out his staff in order to effect a miracle, like when he parted the Red Sea or brought water from the rock. The wands that we find in the hands of Harry Potter and his friends are the modern day symbolic descendants of the staffs of power. 

A staff also corresponds to wisdom.  That is another reason we see them in the hands of magicians and wise men in fiction.  A staff represents the great knowledge that the wise men had at their disposal.  In the days before widespread education, their unique learning definitely elevated them above the common people, bringing them respect, power, and status.

But there was a difference between Moses and the wise men of Pharaoh.  The difference lies in the way they used their power and knowledge.  Pharaoh’s wise men had access to a lot of ancient knowledge, but they used it to control others.  They knew how to use it to manipulate reality, and in the beginning could copy some of the wonders and signs that Moses did.  They represent the parts of us and times in us when we are not acting from sincere and good motives.  We can fake an awful lot of goodness.  We can make ourselves look kind and loving when inside we are still pretty unkind and selfish.  This lets us practice being good, and learn about the difference between the real and the fake goodness, but it is not meant to be somewhere we stay.  By the time Moses was battling with Pharaoh’s wise men, their fakery represents a way of living that really needs to be left behind.  Moses represents the call to a real integrity--- to living in such a way that our outsides begin to match our insides.  When we are beginning to live from a truly loving place, from the Lord, our “power,” our quality of life, has a sincerity to it that leaves Pharaoh’s faker magicians dumbstruck and helpless.

Moses’ battle with Pharaoh’s wise men is just the beginning of a long journey.  Just like Frodo's journey in The Lord of the Rings and Harry’s journey in the Harry Potter novels, there are a lot of scary things still ahead.  Our heroes simply won’t make it through without the help of wise friends and supernatural forces.  It was the same for the Children of Israel. 

Psychologists who study such archetypal mythologies say that we love such stories precisely because they resonate so strongly with our human experience.  We are all on a quest to become better than we are.  We are all driven to rid ourselves of whatever dark forces haunt us; we are all compelled from the cradle to find our true other, our true love---and to live with a sense of purpose and peaceful belonging.  These longings lie at the core of each one of us with very little variation from person to person.   Deep inside we are not so different from one another.

So you and I are born into our own hero’s journey, and you and I, even now, are on a quest. 

It is the quest for integrity, belonging, and meaning.  It is the quest to our truest self and true home.  

None of us will make it either, without the help of wise friends and supernatural powers.  But with them, we will all make it, no matter how scary and hopeless it sometimes looks.

Now, it may seem as though I’m playing fast and loose with the Bible story here, but bear with me.

If God loves every single one of us with absolute devotion, tenderness and compassion; if God wants us to become more and more content, fulfilled, and blessed for the rest of our lives, then it stands to reason that He will use every resource at hand to give us meaning, inspiration, and courage---yes, even the Harry Potter series.

You are a rare person indeed if you can read the Moses story and find it as magical, fun, and totally cool as some of today’s modern fiction.  But that's okay.  The Bible is a highly sophisticated style of spiritual writing with a whole lot going on, and isn't meant to be modern fiction.  It wasn't designed that way.  It has got too much else it needs to do given its limited context and simple language.  It speaks to a  deeper part of our psyches, if we are to believe Swedenborg, creating lines of communication between us and heaven---between us and God.  It isn't so much meant to entertain us, as to feed us on a deep spiritual level.  It is like a densely nutritional spiritual drink (that sometimes tastes like lawn clippings) where Harry Potter is more like frozen yogurt.  It is okay to prefer modern fiction.  Just try not to dismiss the Bible altogether.  It's cooler than you think.

Now, running with this hero's journey metaphor, if we are indeed on our own quest, then we, too, have devoted and loyal friends; we, too have weak companions who will help us sometimes and betray us other times.  We, too have powerful allies, and a magical, powerful mentor who has this annoying habit of disappearing just when we need him most, but who shows up just in the nick of time to bail us out of scrapes.

Does this resonate with your life?  Think about it awhile.  

Now, for me, I have several pretty cool earthly mentors, but my Gandalf figure is more like my relationship with God.  Sometimes it really feels like God is present, and I feel safe and hopeful and positive, and strangely magical things seem to sweep away the road blocks and monsters in my life.  But other times, God seems completely out of earshot.  Gone.  Unreachable.  Maybe even dead.  And life is pretty hard to get through during those times.

I'm guessing a lot of people feel this way.  At times like this, we have no choice but to go on, though the whole project can seems pretty hopeless.  We tend to think we've done something wrong to make God go away, but that isn't necessarily true.  Sometimes, it is a necessary phase of the journey.  We don’t often realize it, but we tend to grow much stronger during those times.  We develop and hone our God-given strengths, and really learn to cherish our travelling companions as well.  It isn't fun, it definitely isn't comfortable, but we can learn some important personal lessons when we are feeling alone.

The children of Israel whined a lot when things got rough.  They certainly felt like God had abandoned them several times on their journey.  Things got so bad, they were threatening to kill Moses.  They were going to stone him with stones.  Instead, God brought their salvation just in the nick of time, using a stone.  The thing that could have killed Moses became the source of their salvation.  Water from a rock.  Life out of death.  There is layer upon layer of meaning in this simple story.

In our lives, big and small miracles are happening around us all the time, though we often don’t remember to look for them.  And I don’t just mean the miracle of a baby’s birth or a grandchild’s first word.  I don’t even mean the miracle of a completed sermon by Sunday morning.  I mean the sort of strange miracle which we call coincidence, or serendipity---the sort which tends to make us want to sing the theme music from the Twilight Zone.

You know what I’m talking about. 

 

Five years ago, smack in the middle of the absolute worst years of my life, I had pretty much lost my faith in God.  Rotten stuff just kept happening, month after month.  I was really not on speaking terms with whoever was in charge of the universe, if anyone was.  I was too blasted angry.

The thing is, strange things kept happening during those years.  Really strange things that I can only say felt like encouraging nudges from some supernatural presence---I don’t know how else to describe them.  Call them synchronicity.  Call them hocus-pocus, or chalk them up to my wild imagination, but there were enough of them to make me sit back and take notice. 

Sometimes, they were down right silly.  And often, they made me laugh.

Does God communicate with us in such indirect ways?   I don’t know.  But during those hellishly difficult years, coincidence after magical coincidence kept happening.  Nothing that forced me to believe in God, nothing that forced me to let go of the disillusionment---just gentle, often humorous oddities that defied explanation.    Amidst all the chaos and pain, some Divine Being was playing a kazoo, trying to get me to smile.  I felt seen, supported, and almost elbowed in the ribs by some benevolent source.  It was crazy.  I think this was my “manna,” small and sweet, during my wilderness, giving me just enough encouragement to get through another day.

The saying that God never gives us more than we can handle is simply not true.  God frequently lets us go through more than we can handle; it is just never more than God can handle.  And it is never without a purpose for good for everyone involved in the long run. Period.  Never.  I learned a bunch of things during those terrible years---things I don’t think I could have learned any other way.  One thing I needed to realize was that it wasn't God’s job to spare me from pain and suffering.  God’s job is to help you and me grow into the best, most wise and loving people we can be, as far as we will allow it.  Sometimes that involves some pretty uncomfortable experiences, but the pain is never for nothing.  God always hides miracles and gifts amid the rocks along the way. 

So when you go from this place today, I hope you go away encouraged.  God is always working miracles in your life, even though you can’t see his magic wand.  God’s compassion shows up in all sorts of surprising ways if we just remember to look for it.  Call these things coincidence.  Call them serendipity.   Call them what you like, but I call them miracles.  I think they are little post-it notes from God reminding us that we are not alone.  Just wave back, and say “thanks.”

Amen.