Monday, February 24, 2014

Rev Dr. George F. Dole's sermon from Sunday, Feb 23, 2014

Rev Dr. George F. Dole supply-preached while I took my first research Sunday.  Here is his sermon.

JESUS ONLY
Bath Church of the New Jerusalem
Rev Dr. George F. Dole
Feb 23, 2014
Amos 3:1-8                                                                                                       
John 14:1-7                                                                                                                   
Divine Providence 326:10

Jesus said to him, "I am the way the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.  John 14:6

It is more than sad, it is tragic that the second part of this text has so often been divorced from the first. The insistence that only those are saved who believe in Jesus Christ, that all others are damned to hell, may have led to some noble and self-sacrificing missionary efforts, but it has also provided a rationalization for such atrocities and the Inquisition and the holocaust. On a smaller scale, it has closed minds against inquiry and learning. Eric Hoffer's description of the mass movement mentality is painfully appropriate:

All active mass movements strive . . . to interpose a fact-proof screen between the faithful and the realities of the world. They do this by claiming that the ultimate and absolute truth is already embodied in their doctrine and that there is no truth nor certitude outside it."[1]

It is little short of miraculous, in a way, that many Christians who believe that all non–Christians are damned to hell are in fact thoroughly decent, caring individuals. The only way I can explain this is to assume that they have not divorced the second half of our text from the first. They have taken seriously Jesus' statement that he is "the way," and have tried honestly and humbly to follow that way, to follow that example. They take seriously Jesus' question, "Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' and not do what I command you?" (Luke 6:46). Yes, they believe that they are saved because of their acceptance of Jesus Christ as their Savior, but they believe that this entails a call to do his will; and they recognize that their own understanding of his will leaves a lot to be desired. If you realize that you have a lot to learn, it makes sense to turn to the best teacher there has ever been.

The connection between the two halves of our text is a little clearer in Greek than in the usual translations. In the second section, the King James version has "except by me," and the New Revised Standard Edition has "except through me." The preposition is question is dia, and one of its commonest meanings is "by way of." It is the preposition one would use to describe the route taken from one place to another—"I came dia Route 1 rather than Route 195," "by way of Route 1." In our text, then, Jesus is saying, "I am, the way, the only way that leads to the Father," which clearly calls us to see both his truth—his teaching—and his life as showing us that way, the Tao of the Gospel, if you will.
For a description of that way, perhaps the most obvious place to look is the Sermon on the Mount, bearing in mind that this was delivered not to the multitudes (who would hardly sit still for such an extended discourse) but to the few disciples who followed him up the mountain, thirsty, we may suppose, for the amazing, gracious words that proceeded out of his mouth (Luke 4:22).
The Sermon begins with the Beatitudes, which stand in striking contrast to the fundamental laws of the Torah, the Ten Commandments, without in any respect contradicting them. They contrast not in substance, that is, but in two other respects. First, the Commandments focus on our behavior, the Beatitudes on our attitudes. Second, the Commandments are cast largely in negative terms, telling us what we must not do, while the Beatitudes are uniformly affirmative.
This does not mean, though, that the Beatitudes are all sweetness and light. Far from it, the qualities that mark the way start with spiritual poverty, mourning, meekness, hunger, and thirst. In a way, these qualities boil down to the single quality of recognizing our inadequacy, acknowledging our need. This is presented in stark terms in a familiar little parable (Luke 18:10-13):

Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee, the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood off by himself and prayed like this: "God, I  thank you that I am not like other people—thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I tithe all my income." But the tax collector would  not even look up to heaven. He just beat his breast and said, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner." I tell you, this man went back home justified, and not the other.

On reflection, it looks very much as though the tax collector was on the right way without realizing it. By the same token, we ourselves may be so absorbed in trying to do and be our best that there is no tendency to stop and think, "How'm I doing?" This would be to stray from the way onto the detour of self-evaluation, a detour that may lead either to despair or to self-congratulation. There may be time for that when the task is done.
In the course of the task, this peculiar unconsciousness does not leave us without guideposts, though. We can be quite sure that we are not on the way if we find ourselves feeling self-satisfied. In fact, if we look at those first beatitudes, each had an opposite that is all too clearly recognizable. Self-satisfaction is the opposite of poverty of spirit. Callousness is the opposite of mourning. Arrogance I the opposite of meekness. Self-righteousness is the opposite of hunger and thirst for righteousness. If you try to exit a turnpike by an on-ramp, you may see a very obvious sign that says "Wrong Way." Have you ever seen a sign that said "Right Way"? That, it seems, you are entitled to take for granted, offering no pretext for self-congratulation. Remember Amos: "You only have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities" (Amos 3:2).
The next Beatitude, "Blessed are the merciful," might be taken as a response to the preceding four. That is, a genuine awareness of our inadequacy will necessarily press us to be understanding and constructive in our reactions to the inadequacies of others. "For they shall obtain mercy" conveys the message that we are all in this together. In strictly Swedenborgian terms, wherever we may be on any absolute scale of virtue, there is a sense in which we are all midway between heaven and hell and therefore able to turn in either direction. We need to recognize that we can choose only between alternatives that we can see, and that we do not understand the choice someone else has made if we do not know what the perceived alternative to that choice was. If we want a most extreme example of this kind of relativism, we need only look at Jesus' words about the one who was to betray him: "It would have been better for that man not to have been born" (Matthew 26:24, Mark 14:21).
Then we come to "Blessed are the pure in heart." This is the kind of purity that we mean when we speak of "pure gold," and there is an ironic sense in which we can also speak of "pure filth." That is, it is purity in the sense of the absence of any inconsistency, the kind of purity of intent that rules out deceit or hidden agendas. Here, it seems most obvious that we are talking about a lifelong process, because the fact would seem to be that we do have mixed feelings and that we often do not understand ourselves all that well. Thoughts and feelings arise in us from depths that we cannot plumb, and from time to time we surprise ourselves—sometime for better, sometimes for worse. It is entirely natural in this noisy and confusing world that negative feelings arise, and the clear, insistent message of our theology is that we cannot deal with them unless we recognize them. We cannot destroy them, but we need not let them take center stage. If we see them—and only if we see them—we can turn away from them, centering in what we know to be better. The "shunning" of "shunning evils as sins" is less fighting against them than turning our backs on them: the basic meaning of the Latin verb is "to flee."
Perhaps that is why the next Beatitude is "Blessed are the peacemakers." We know this to be true on the small scale of our own lives. When there is conflict in a marriage, for example, there is no way to come to a lasting resolution by having one side win and the other side lose. The effective marriage counselor will help the couple identify the legitimate needs that underlie the conflict, distinguish the needs themselves from the strategies that have been adopted to meet them, and discover strategies that rely on mutual understanding and cooperation rather than conflict.
This is no pipe dream. This is how heaven works, with the joy of all being felt by each and the joy of each by all. Experience will teach us, if we let it, that this is occasionally possible here and now; and the true "peacemakers" are the people who nurture this hope and seek this kind of mutual understanding. We might well bear in mind that this applies on all scales, from the individual to the international; for the whole human race, in the Lord's sight, is like a single individual.
To bring us down to earth with a thud, the Beatitudes conclude by telling us that we are blessed when we are persecuted, when we are reviled and falsely accused. Most of us, I suspect, would have a hard time coming up with examples of times when we felt that we were qualifying for this blessing, but we have only to look at the prevalence of political trash-talking to realize that "reviling" is all too often the name of the game, and that truth all too often takes a distant second place to "spin." How may individuals have remained silent in the presence of corruption for fear of the consequences of speaking out? There is good reason that we have laws to protect whistle blowers, and when they remain silent, we all suffer the consequences.
The Beatitudes are only the introduction to the Sermon itself, and a hasty survey like this can do no more than hint at the depth of its articles, the extraordinary way in which they enrich each other, and the appropriateness of the distinctive rewards for each one. We could take any one of them and apply it to a multitude of different situations; and if we were to do so, we would soon find that they have to be translated, so to speak, into the particular strategies that suit particular circumstances. What works for peace in a kindergarten class may not work in a corporate boardroom. What works in a technologically sophisticated culture may not work in a tribal one. That is what our third reading is telling us—that the variety of people requires a variety of religions. Our text insists, though, that all such religions must have certain essential qualities, however different the may be the outer forms in which those qualities are expressed. There can be no tolerance in any religion for avarice, indifference, arrogance, self-righteousness, cruelty, deviousness, ruthlessness, or cowardice.
There is not the slightest hint of any of these qualities in the life and teaching of Jesus. When he told the disciples that he was the way, he was saying that he himself had been on a path, straying neither to the right or to the left, constantly finding and following that narrow way where justice and mercy are at perfect peace with each other. The apostle Paul got the message, and passed it on to the Philippians: :"Let that same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 2:5).
Oddly, perhaps, this sounds terribly demanding when it is put in affirmative terms, but when we look at the pure ugliness of the alternatives, it is departing from the way that makes no sense. "Wrong Way!" There really is no alternative path. No one comes to the Father except by this Way.
                                                                                                Amen.
  

Divine Providence section # 326:10  Emanuel Swedenborg

We know that there are within us not only the parts formed as organs from blood vessels and nerve fibers—the forms we call our viscera. There are also skin, membranes, tendons, cartilage, bones, nails, and teeth. They are less intensely alive than the organic forms, which they serve as ligaments, coverings, and supports. If there are to be all these elements in that heavenly person who is heaven, it cannot be made up of the people of one religion only. It  needs people from many religions, so all the people who make these two universal principles of the church central to their own lives [loving God and living a good life] have a place in that heavenly person, that is, in heaven. They enjoy a happiness that suits their own nature.




[1] Eric Hoffer: The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements (New York" Harper Perennial, 2010), p. 79.

For a similar sermon, see: http://alisonlongstaff.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-names-of-god-or-is-jesus-christ.html

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Reflections on Communion

Reflections on Communion


In lieu of a sermon last Sunday, (because of the projected storm) we held a "Bible study" around a table of goodies and hot beverages.  It was an experiment, but seemed to go extremely well, and those who gave me feedback appreciated the experience.

I believe strongly in opportunities for us to hear each other as members of one community, and this sort of event gives us that chance.  I get to know my dear congregants better, and they get to know each other better too.  We laugh together, and we become re-humanized in each other's eyes, dispelling any false perceptions or thin layers of fear or judgment that may have settled over some relationships.  It makes things "shiny" again.


So I opened the topic of the meaning of communion. I particularly encouraged any questions, problems, or difficulties anyone might have.  This was the time to air them.  I started by describing my own experience of being taunted for being a "cannibal" by a former Christian.  I had myself always had a bit of discomfort with the "eat my flesh", "drink my blood" language, and this mockery brought that discomfort to the surface for me.  I could explain that I saw it as a metaphor, and that I believe Jesus and the disciples also understood it that way, but if someone wanted to mock, there was only so much defense, because the language is undeniably there.

Besides, if she needed to mock, that was not my problem so much as my own inner discomfort was, and my need was to come to some peace and resolution inside myself.  Her journey is and remains her journey.

"What has your journey with communion been like?"  "How do you understand it?" Were the questions I asked those gathered around the table.  We then went around the table giving each person a chance to respond.

I would like to share some of the observations and insights that came up, in case they add to or inform your own relationship with communion.

No one else had ever considered or been challenged by the "flesh and blood" language nor the idea of cannibalism.  All of the other eight participants, three of whom had not been raised Swedenborgian, had considered the language metaphorical.  One described it as meaning that we must "walk the walk" and "live the life."  Many nodded their heads in agreement with this comment.

One woman (from a minister's family!) said with breathtaking honesty that she had never understood what the communion was about and had a hard time finding meaning in it.  This lightened the room immediately, as it gave everyone permission to admit not understanding, if that was their experience.

One observation that I shared that seemed as helpful to the listeners as it had been to me, when I encountered it (and which came to me from Rev George F. Dole, my predecessor), was this:  That when Jesus commanded that we "do this in remembrance of him.," He was eating a meal with his friends.  He was not kneeling in a special spot in a special place at a special time with a special little piece of bread and little sip of wine.  He was sharing a meal with His friends.  He was communing with them socially and spiritually.

Rev George had observed that the two elements that we consider sacraments---communion and baptism--- are also two essential daily acts necessary for our physical well-being---eating and washing.  Perhaps it is more the remembrance of Him in the most every day and mundane acts that is where the sacredness lies, not in specialized little rituals in specialized little sacred moments.  This has tremendous resonance with me, and seemed to feed many around the table on Sunday as well.

Another person observed that she felt spiritually fed by sitting and conversing over a "meal" such as we were doing almost more than attending church feeds her.  I had to point out that enjoying a meal together is what communion is.  That the preciousness of the bonds built during this sort of "communion" between and among us is what makes it meaningful.  This is what we treasure, and this is why it is sacred.  For me, it illustrates how the sacred has always been "right here, right now" in every day moments.  It is always present, and not meant to be kept in a "sacred" box and brought out only on Sundays.

I know I appreciated this change in our ritual.  It will not happen often.  But I suspect I will do this again. Perhaps once a year I will invite a "communal" gathering with discussion over a meal rather than formal worship.  I like the idea.

What has your journey with communion been like?  How do you understand it?

May you find peace and growing wisdom as you journey forward this week.

Pastor Alison




Sunday, February 9, 2014

"Don't Kill Isaac" - a sermon

Don’t Kill Isaac!
Rev. Alison Longstaff, Feb 9, 2014
Bath Church of the New Jerusalem
Genesis 22: 1-14, Jeremiah 28:7-9, Selections from Arcana Coelestia 1492 and 3839:4

“And … God tested Abraham. He said to him, ‘Abraham!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ He said, ‘Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you.’”

According to today’s text, God commanded Abraham to “offer his son as a burnt offering.”  In the next fifteen or so minutes we will explore the history of this disturbing scripture passage, and explore what if any relevance it may have for readers today.  We will discover if and how this Scripture might speak to you, and what it might tell each of us about our spiritual journeying in the 21st century.  We will discover that this passage has tremendous relevance today, in a deeply ironic and almost humorous way.

Many scholars through the ages, including Swedenborg, have approached this story as a spiritual metaphor, not historic fact.  Some believe it to be a primitive oral parable depicting how our earliest ancestors transitioned from human sacrifice to the less barbaric animal sacrifice.  Indeed, many Hebrew scholars have assumed all along that Abraham here misunderstood God’s will. They say the story is written as if God actually commanded the sacrifice of Isaac, but the true God of love would never have wanted this. Since primitive human cultures wrote the Bible, these early biblical stories reflect what the primitive peoples thought God wanted, not necessarily what the God of love actually wanted for them.

And Swedenborg agrees, saying that God never tempts us.  He didn't tempt Abraham and he doesn't tempt us.  A spiritual temptation is a conflict between what we love and what we believe.  God doesn't send them.  They occur naturally as we mature.  What we love is never all the way pure, and what we believe often has some fault-lines in it, so God allows the conflicts that arise from these impurities and fault-lines to refine us, little by little into wiser, gentler spiritual beings.  Abraham’s story amply illustrates a clash between what he loves and what he believes.  In this case, it was his belief that was faulty, not his love.

Abraham was born and raised in Ur, where they practiced human sacrifice at the time.  They offered young maidens, little children, and especially newborn babies as burnt offerings to try to win the favor of the gods.  Abraham grew up with this as the norm, and so it would have been built into his deepest psyche that human, and especially child sacrifice was the most powerful way to prove his devotion to God.  Knowing this, we can understand why Abraham could have thought God wanted him to sacrifice Isaac.  He was very devout, so he set his intention on obeying this command.  What a mixture of innocence and false beliefs!

Now remember, Abraham is a part of you and me.  In this part of the story, he is showing us what we are like when we have a genuine desire to do God’s will mixed with false ideas about God’s will.  Swedenborg says it is when we are still “worshiping other gods.” In other words, false ideas of what is right are leading us.  Abraham here represents the times in our life when we may be full of good intentions but have very little actual wisdom.  This part of us is most likely to cling to religious dogma and to follow it blindly from fear.  This ignorant innocence is pretty much spiritually unconscious, yet it is the beginning of all that we can be.  God honors Abraham’s innocent qualityhis devout and sincere intent to do what he thinks is righteven though God would never, ever have commanded such a terrible act

The book of Genesis is about a very early part of our spiritual journey. It shows a step of growth from a more primitive spirituality into increasing love and enlightenment.  The mountain called Moriah here is actually mount Zion—the mountain upon which Jerusalem is now built.  It is the mountain upon which Jerusalem is now built.  This tells us that this story is about our first steps toward a genuine and living spirituality.  The fact that the divine being is here called “God” (Elohim) and not “The Lord” (Jehovah or YHWH) means that this story is describing our relationship with our (faulty) beliefs or our understanding, not our loves.   

Now, the way this story was taught to me throughout my childhood was this: God commanded Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.  He did, but it was just a test.  God never meant for Abraham to actually kill Isaac, and Abraham passed the test, so it was all good. 

No adults around me ever questioned the violent content of this story, nor considered the trauma this experience would have brought on Isaac.  No one expressed alarm over what it would really have meant for Abraham to have to murder his only child.  It was as if Abraham just lowered the knife, untied Isaac, dusted him off, and they had a good laugh about it all.  “Just kidding. Now let’s really go barbecue that ram over there.”  As far as I saw modeled around me, this story was a lovely and unquestioned illustration of how important it is to be obedient to God, no matter what. Don’t question.  Don’t think.  Just obey

It wasn't until I had children of my own that the emotional impact of this story began to hit.  However, obedient and devout Christian that I was, I jammed my discomfort and unease out of sight, because I didn't dare question what my religious leaders and teachers had taught me with such solid authority.  “Obey without question!” was the moral of the story.  If I was questioning, I wasn't doing the good thing Abraham did. Right?

The blind and devout me pictured Isaac lying there, all tied up on the wood, serene and trusting, docile as a—well—lamb.  But when my reason kicks in I can’t help but ask, is that really how it would have happened?  Didn't Isaac have a few problems with this scene?  Maybe there is a good reason he was bound up tight before being laid on the wood.  He must have put up a fight, the same way our reason objects to being sacrificed on the altar of religious dogma. And this detail changes the whole feel of the story. 

Swedenborg tells us that that emotional content of a Bible story contains important clues as to what meaning the story holds for us today.  Imagine Abraham’s inner torment as he looked down at Isaac.  Imagine Isaac struggling and crying out, “Dad!  Dad!  Don’t do this!!”  Imagine Abraham, torn between his intense desire to follow God’s will and his breaking heart.  See him lifting Isaac’s chin in order to slit his throat.  Can he really kill this precious, long-awaited son of his old age?  This is Isaac, his only child with Sarah—the son whom God promised to him, whom Sarah bore to him when she was in her 90s! The anguish, the conflict that Abraham would have felt, is just what we feel when our love challenges old and deeply held religious beliefs.

“But the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven, and said, ‘Abraham, Abraham!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’” (‘Here I am,’ Swedenborg tells us, represents a person coming spiritually awake, or coming to ones senses.)  “12 He said, ‘Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.’  13 And Abraham looked up and saw a ram, caught in a thicket by its horns. Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. 

There is a way out of this temptation.  Abraham faces a temptation we all face, and in this story chooses the love of his son over the religious dictates of his upbringing.  When we bump up against deeply buried religious fears, and yet are courageous enough to make the choice for love, we also choose as Abraham did.  When we do, we stand in the space between the old culture and the new, between death and life.  After we choose for love, we may even hold our breath, waiting for lighting to strike.  But when nothing dire happens, we breathe, and breathe again, and begin to relax into our new way of being.  On the other side of this temptation, when we choose for love, there is always a new dawning.  We find a fresh new start, things look different, more spacious.  There is a greater light, and deeper peace.

Meanwhile, all around us may be those who still cling to the old beliefs.  They cannot help but judge us for our choice.  They cannot see what we see until they are ready to make that step too.  Perhaps that in part is why Abraham left Ur. Practically, spiritually, and correspondentially, he didn’t fit any more.  He didn’t belong.  Perhaps he needed to get away from those who judged him for letting Isaac live.

This story is about the stage of our spiritual awakening when we first move away from a dogmatic, inherited, or “historic” faith towards an intelligent, thoughtful, and internalized faith—one that springs from an ongoing spiritual dialogue with an intelligent God, not one that involves strict obedience to what religious authorities told us God said.

And here is where the deep irony comes in.

The devout and ignorant mind encountering this text believes it telling us to value staying devout and ignorant.  The importance of complete obedience is what it draws from this story, not the importance of the exercise of reason.  The story is actually about allowing our reason (Isaac) to live, yet many use it to glorify blind obedience.  Irony of ironies.  It is about allowing our intelligence to live, and yet it is used to exhort believers to blind obedience.  If wasn't so twisted, it would be funny. 

But this is the human condition.  We draw from the Word what we expect to draw from it.  That is why Abraham believed God said to sacrifice Isaac.  From his culture and upbringing He expected God to command it, so that is what he heard.  When we are in a state of devout and unquestioning allegiance to religious “law,” that is the sort of thing we hear also.

Ooh.  Problem.  So, if we draw from the Word what we expect to find in it, how does anyone ever get free from false understanding?

Well, here is how it works: Abraham represents you and me taking the first baby steps of our spiritual walk—which is most commonly to learn the religious “rules” around us and to try to follow them perfectly.  There is comfort and safety in following rules.  There is safety in going with the crowd.  Obedience without intelligence is not what God intends for us, but it is all we've got at this stage.  It feels good. It makes us feel safe.  This is Ur. We start there, and we are meant to start there.

BUT: obedience without intelligence is not all that we've got.  God has given us Isaac.  Isaac, who is flesh of our flesh; Isaac, who is our birthright and our future.  Isaac, representing our intelligent and rational side, whose very existence challenges ignorant and blind faith.  Isaac, who is from God, and is meant to be in our future. 

God intends for us to grow by means of Isaac—which is to develop an intelligent and rational relationship with religion.  But that can feel scary.  How many religious communities think that reason is the enemy?  Rational intelligence, (Isaac) threatens dogmatic beliefs. Our first fearful impulse is to kill the questions that arise because they challenge the traditions as we have been taught them.  This is the heart of the conflict, and this is the irony.  God gives us the very questions necessary to challenge our primitive beliefs so that we can grow, if we just have the courage to let those questions live.

Do you think this ancient parable is irrelevant to our modern problems? We see Isaac sacrificed again and again, every time Christians burn the Koran, every time a suicide bomber succeeds, every time a Sunday school child is scolded for her questions; every time someone who is gender variant or loves someone of their same gender is spurned, shamed, shunned, or cut off.  It is indeed any time you or I feel compelled in any way to judge or cut off another human heart just because they do not believe the same things that we do.

Make no mistake, Abraham is you and me, and everyone else who makes the spiritual journey.  You very likely will never believe that the best way to prove your love of God would be through murdering another human being.  But would you sacrifice a human relationship?  Would you cut off someone you love because of a lifestyle choice, or a different religious path? Each one of us does indeed hit regular choice-points like this in our spiritual walk—points at which we must choose between the religious expectations we inherited or that make us feel safe, and the call of our beating heart.

Can you recall any such choice points in your life?  A time when you hung between two futures—one which conformed to the religious rules around you and one which bucked them and made a daring choice for love? 

I can think of several times in my life when I felt myself at such a crossroads.  The day my middle sister told me she was in love with a woman was one.  I was faced with rejecting her “for her own good” because I had been taught that God considered homosexuality an abomination, or continuing to love her for all the fine qualities and gentleness that she embodied.  It tore me up inside to consider this decision.  I was caught between fear of transgressing “God’s law” (as taught to me) or losing my sister and hurting her deeply by rejecting her.

In this case, my love for my sister and my love for the unmistakable goodness in her character trumped the “rules.”  I dared make a mistake in God’s eyes, because I simply could not slay my relationship with her nor reject the innocence I saw in her soul.  My heart won over my head.

Now, before I go further, I caution anyone against believing that choosing a personal relationship over a cut-off is always the better choice.  That would simply be making a new religious rule that exempts us from needing to discern and choose on a case by case basis.  True faith is living faith, which means it must adapt and discern moment by moment, case by case, using the best it has of love and wisdom at the time. 

In truth, choosing to continue to lovingly accept this sister and her partner was also choosing a cut-off in another area of my life.  It meant I would no longer be in the good graces of all those who continue to believe that homosexuality is a sin.  In choosing this sister, I lost, in part, my other sister, one of my brothers and my father.  Those losses were not easy and continue to ache, but for me the choice for greater and more inclusive love was the only choice that sat well with my soul.  The lesson here is about using ones heart with ones intelligence and conscience, and not simply allowing other people’s rules to choose for you.

Regardless of what you may feel about my personal choices, I submit that today’s Scripture speaks with tremendous relevance to issues still very active in our modern world.  Christians and many other faith communities across the world face modern issue after modern issue calling us out of dogma and into a more loving, well-reasoned belief system.  This is the story about the parts of us that we think we need to kill to prove we love God. This is about the regular confrontation of our heads with our hearts.  Fear makes us cling to absolutes and blind obedience.  Loves gives us the courage to step away from a rules-alone approach to faith, and to engage in the discussion with heart and intelligence.

Isaac must live. He is our only path to a mature spiritual life.  It is scary to allow our questions to challenge our beliefs, but we need not let that fear control us.  Isaac is our birthright.  God gave us Isaac and intended him to live, to give Abraham (which is our spiritual beginnings) a hope and a future. When we, like Abraham, let our hearts speak and over-rule our fears, love wins.

And when love wins, we all win.

Amen


The Readings
Gen 22: 1-14 1 After these things God tested Abraham. He said to him, "Abraham!" And he said, "Here I am."  2 He said, "Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you."
3 So Abraham rose early in the morning, saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and his son Isaac; he cut the wood for the burnt offering, and set out and went to the place in the distance that God had shown him.
4 On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place far away.
5 Then Abraham said to his servants, "Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you."  6 Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. So the two of them walked on together.
7 Isaac said to his father Abraham, "Father!" And he said, "Here I am, my son." He said, "The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?"
8 Abraham said, "God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son." So the two of them walked on together. 
9 When they came to the place that God had shown him, Abraham built an altar there and laid the wood in order. He bound his son Isaac, and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood.  10 Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill his son. 
11 But the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven, and said, "Abraham, Abraham!" And he said, "Here I am."  12 He said, "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me."  13 And Abraham looked up and saw a ram, caught in a thicket by its horns. Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son.  14 So Abraham called that place "The LORD will provide"; as it is said to this day, "On the mount of the LORD it shall be provided."

Jeremiah 28:7-9.   But listen now to this word that I speak in your hearing and in the hearing of all the people.  The prophets who preceded you and me from ancient times prophesied war, famine, and pestilence against many countries and great kingdoms.  As for the prophet who prophesies peace, when the word of that prophet comes true, then it will be known that the LORD has truly sent the prophet."

Two selections from Arcana Coelestia (aka Heavenly Secrets)
From paragraph 1492 The internal sense is such that it is the emotion itself lying hidden within the words which constitutes the internal sense.
From paragraph 3839:4 This being so, angels are acquainted with the emotion enclosed in the subject-matter of the Word; and this entails every variation according to the types of emotions present in the angels. From this it becomes quite clear how holy the Word is, for Divine love, that is, love coming from the Divine, is utterly sacred, and since the subjects within the Word spring from the Divine love, this means they are utterly sacred because they are full of the Divine Love.

Revised from a sermon called “Love Wins” By Rev. Alison Longstaff, preached June 26th, 2011



Sunday, February 2, 2014

What Is Church For? - a sermon

What Is Church For?

Rev. Alison Longstaff, Feb 2nd, 2014
Bath Church of the New Jerusalem, Maine
Genesis 9:18-29 and Matt. 23: 1-8, 13, 24-26; AC §1062

This sermon was inspired by my attendance at the “Gathering Leaves” convention in 2010.
“Gathering Leaves” is an effort on the part of Swedenborgian women to build bridges and heal old wounds between our various branches.  There have been five of these gatherings since 2004, the most recent held right here in Maine this past September.

In our short history in North America alone, the Swedenborgians have split into three major divisions (and several small independent ones as well).  We don’t really have the luxury of numbers to do this, but that hasn’t stopped us.  (And we thought we were new, and knew how to do church “right.”  Not so much!)  It was always disagreements about doctrine that divided us: about what was and wasn’t Sacred Scripture, about what was and wasn’t important to emphasize doctrinally, and about who does and does not have the authority to teach what was and wasn’t good doctrine to others.

Now, when I was in seminary we studied (among other things) what the different stages of Christianity thought about and fought about doctrinally through the years. I was amazed to discover, even looking past Christianity to include earlier spiritualities and alternatives to Christianity that people have been fighting over the very same things when it comes to religion from the beginning of time, over and over again.


Each new denomination—each new flavor of whatever spirituality, even if it likes to think it is truly new and special—is just the same old thing in new packaging.  Some of it is quite enlightened and some of it, not-so-much.  Most get slowly corrupted over time, even if they started out well.  Many limp along, broken but doggedly persistent. Others renew themselves and start afresh, offering truth and good in the world once more.
 
But the big story is that humans are human first, and humans do what humans do with religion time and time again.  The same issues and tensions arise with each new generation, just with different faces and different outer trappings. Some groups of humans navigate the tensions gracefully and well, others not so well.  Mostly we repeat the same responses and behaviors, the same decisions and divisions, century after century.  It seems that each new generation must make its own spiritual journey, regardless of any lessons learned by the preceding generation.  I guess that makes sense.  Todays’ fifth graders may know how to tie their shoes, but that doesn’t mean today’s toddlers already know how.  They still have to learn what they still have to learn.

Maybe that is how the Bible can remain relevant century after century.  In its spiritual sense or inner meaning, the Bible tells the whole of the human story---the whole of the human spiritual journey---from darkness to enlightenment; from inward looking self-interest to outward looking love and compassion.  The spiritual journey is the same for all, no matter who we are or in what time period we were born.  We all have to make it, and the path never changes.

And so each new generation, and each new flavor of “religion” struggles over the same issues, with slight variations, century after century.  And the Bible prophesies all of this, and describes it all in detail.  It foretells precisely the way we will divide and differentiate within our various religious groups, because God knew we would do this---because this is what we do. 

Our reading from Swedenborg today about Shem, Ham, and Japheth is one description of the nature and quality of the ways we divide ourselves as spiritual beings or “churches.”  It is rather comforting.  Trust me.  I’ll show you.

But before I do, let’s remind ourselves of three basic Swedenborgian concepts to help us along the way:

First, Swedenborg draws our attention to the fact that “love” is our very life.  Translated, this means that our emotional reality is our primary reality.  We cloak our emotional being in interpretations, meanings, and story, but deep down inside we are all emotion, no matter how rational we like to think we are.  There is nothing wrong with this.  It is how we are made.

Second, our default emotional reality is dictated by our “lizard brain.”  The primary job of our lizard brain is to keep us alive---fed, sheltered, and safe from harm---both physically and psychologically. Swedenborg calls this part of our nature the “natural” or the “proprium.”  Other philosophies might call this side of our nature the “shadow self,” “the dark side,” or the “ego”.  But know this: the lizard brain is not bad.  We need it.  It serves a necessary and vital purpose.  However, it does become dark when it is left un-managed---when it is allowed to call the shots---for it will always choose the least enlightened and most self-serving behavior, every time, without fail.  It’s as enlightened as a lizard.

Third, we are created dual natured: both natural and spiritual; both physical and metaphysical.  That means we have a basic emotional nature much like our mammalian and reptilian cousins, but we also have a higher nature from God that contains the ability to feel and express altruism and true selfless love for each other.  Balancing the lizard brain is this higher nature, which Swedenborg calls the “rational faculty” or we might know as the observer-self.  This observer-self gives us the ability to step back and reflect on our thoughts, feelings, and motivations.  The observer-self lets us train and manage the lizard brain.  Truly, the wise advice to “know thyself” is the very smart recommendation to develop and use this self-reflective ability.  Taking time to examine our feelings and choices creates the space in us to make ever more enlightened and altruistic choices---choices that include the well-being of all, not just the self.  Some spiritualities call this growing state of conscious self-management “enlightenment,” or “mindfulness.”  Swedenborgians call it “regeneration.” 

Bearing in mind that our default state tends to be emotion-based self-interest; I ask you, “Is it any wonder that we get anxious and contentious and split when it comes to matters of religion?” Bearing in mind that to grow spiritually we must consciously develop our reflective and altruistic capacities, and not everyone is fully enlightened yet, is it any wonder we struggle to agree on what is important in church?  At any given time and in any given place, we humans are emotional first, and as a group will display all different levels of enlightenment and non-enlightenment in our interactions.  We are all in different spiritual states, each one with strengths and weaknesses, and each one struggling to get along with the others, like siblings in a family.

Concerning the three sons of Noah, Swedenborg tells us:
The church [of that time] included people who were internal [“Shem”], people who were internal but corrupted [Ham”], and people who were external [“Japheth”]. Internal people are those who make loving-kindness and compassion the most important objective of religion. Corrupted internal people are those who make beliefs apart from any loving-kindness the most important objective of religion. And external people are those who give little thought to spirituality but who nevertheless perform charitable works and reverently keep up the religious observances of the church. Members of any church can be sorted into these three types of people.  No others exist who can be called members of the church. Arcana Coelestia (aka Heavenly Secrets) 1062
This says to me that at any given time, we spiritual/natural humans will fall more or less into these three categories.  No matter how you slice us, humans will do what humans do with religion, and it takes all kinds and stages of us to make a whole.

Please don’t try to figure out which of Noah’s sons you are.  We all wander in and out between these groups as we learn and grow anyway.  What is more important is the vision of where we want to end up that will keep us moving in a good direction and working together most successfully. 

Non-enlightenment tends to be fearful, judgmental, self-centered and divisive.  Semi-enlightenment loves the ritual and external trappings of church, likes to do good works, but is not very self-aware.  More advanced enlightenment sees beyond the external and looks constantly past self-interest toward the spirit of everything, striving always toward the well-being of the whole.  Any group, even when they think they’ve solved their problems by splitting, will display this whole array of individuals to one extent or another even still, within their splinter groups.  It’s like a hologram.  Divide us up, and we just show a smaller version of the same whole.
 
How you or I views what church is and how it should be done will depend entirely on where you or I are on the spiritual journey.  It will also be affected by what psychic wounds we have sustained, and what prejudices we have developed.  It’s no wonder we struggle to agree.

So, “What Is Church For?”

I could have gone so many different directions with this topic.  I could have talked about community-building and the celebration of life passages.  I could have explored the value of spiritual education. I could have looked at the question of how to be a healthy, growing church even as the meaning and relevance of “church” seems increasingly lost in our modern lifestyle.  Instead, I’m going to leave you with a story from the 2010 Gathering Leaves Convention.

That year the convention was held near Bryn Athyn, Pennsylvania, which is where the head offices of two of the three different branches are located. There were many, many Swedenborgians living near the convention site.  So the final worship ceremony was opened to include any women and men from the surrounding community who might like to join us.  We had a team of four women leading that worship service, including one woman from a branch that does not ordain women.  She had pursued and gotten a non-denominational ordination anyway, and had been leading small, unofficial worship services for local Swedenborgians despite the disapproval of her denomination.  When the father of that woman entered the worship space and took a seat at the back she confessed to me with wide eyes, “Now I’m nervous!”  It turns out that he had never attended any of his daughter’s worship services in all the years she had been leading them.  Not one.  Ever.  He was an ordained minister himself, yet had never approved of her fight for women’s ordination. And his tradition not only forbids women from joining the ministry; they have been known to treat harshly those who speak up in favor of it.  Simply to enter the room and remain was a bit of a professional risk on his part. His very presence there that night was a new and profound statement of acceptance for his daughter.

How many people even knew this small drama was going on?  I wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t spoken to me.  But knowing transformed that moment into a deeply sacred one for me, without needing any of the other trappings of the worship service.  That one silent act of reconciliation was invisible to most, yet a significantly valuable outcome of the Gathering Leaves effort.

And that is why we come together again and again in as a church community, in my opinion.  Despite petty disagreements, personality quirks, and differences of vision, it is good for our souls.  When we remember that it is for reconciliation, not judgment; for mutual service, not fighting who has the “rightest” interpretation, we are on the right path.  We come to encounter the sacred—the sacred that is present within love, within forgiveness, within learning and reconciliation.

For deep down inside we are all alike.  We need each other.  When we remove enough layers of talking and judging and struggling, at our core we all simply want to belong, to know we have a purpose, and to know we are loved.
 
And that is what church is for. Doing church well leads us to our inner, spiritual home.  A healthy church community provides a place in which we can discover who we are, who God is, and how to be closer to each other.  In that process we encounter what is truly sacred in life.  We are reminded that our life has meaning and purpose, that we have a valuable contribution to make in the world, and that we are safe and loved.  We forgive and we are forgiven.  What is more sacred than that?
 
The church of the Lord is with everyone in the whole world who lives a good life according to their principles. All who live a good life, wherever they are, are accepted by the Lord and come into heaven.  This is because all who live a good life according to their principles in point of fact interiorly acknowledge the Lord, because such goodness comes from the Lord, and the Lord is within that goodness. Emanuel Swedenborg, The New Jerusalem and its Heavenly Doctrine § 246
What do you think church is for?  Amen 


The Readings:
Genesis 9: 18-29
18 Now the sons of Noah who went out of the ark were Shem, Ham, and Japheth. And Ham was the father of Canaan. 19 These three were the sons of Noah, and from these the whole earth was populated.
20 And Noah began to be a farmer, and he planted a vineyard. 21 Then he drank of the wine and was drunk, and became uncovered in his tent. 22 And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of his father, and told his two brothers outside. 23 But Shem and Japheth took a garment, laid it on both their shoulders, and went backward and covered the nakedness of their father. Their faces were turned away, and they did not see their father’s nakedness.
24 So Noah awoke from his wine, and knew what his younger son had done to him. 25 Then he said: “Cursed be Canaan; A servant of servants He shall be to his brethren.”
26 And he said: “Blessed be the Lord, The God of Shem, And may Canaan be his servant.
27 May God enlarge Japheth, And may he dwell in the tents of Shem;
And may Canaan be his servant.”
28 And Noah lived after the flood three hundred and fifty years. 29 So all the days of Noah were nine hundred and fifty years; and he died.
Matthew 23: 1-8, 13, 24-26
Then Jesus spoke to the multitudes and to His disciples, saying: “The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. Therefore whatever they tell you to observe, that observe and do, but do not do according to their works; for they say, and do not do. For they bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers. But all their works they do to be seen by men. They make their phylacteries broad and enlarge the borders of their garments. They love the best places at feasts, the best seats in the synagogues, greetings in the marketplaces, and to be called by men, ‘Rabbi, Rabbi.’ But you, do not be called ‘Rabbi’; for One is your Teacher, the Christ, and you are all brethren.
13 “But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you shut up the kingdom of heaven against men; for you neither go in yourselves, nor do you allow those who are entering to go in.  Blind guides, who choke on a gnat and yet swallow a camel! 
25 “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you cleanse the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of extortion and self-indulgence.[f] 26 Blind Pharisee, first cleanse the inside of the cup and dish, that the outside of them may be clean also.

The Arcana Coelestia (aka Heavenly Secrets) §1062
The church [of that time] included people who were internal [“Shem”], people who were internal but corrupted [Ham”], and people who were external [“Japheth”]. Internal people are those who make loving-kindness and compassion the most important objective of religion. Corrupted internal people are those who make beliefs apart from any loving-kindness the most important objective of religion. And external people are those who give little thought to spirituality but who nevertheless perform charitable works and reverently keep up the religious observances of the church. Members of any church can be sorted into these three types of people.  No others exist who can be called members of the church. Arcana Coelestia (aka Heavenly Secrets) §1062

Revised from a sermon preached July 18th, 2010; at The Church of the Good Shepherd, Kitchener, Ontarios