Thursday, May 10, 2007

Gratitude

Maybe there’s a gene for gratitude. Or maybe we just learn that, too. What do you think? My faith teaches that we should at all times be grateful for all things. But as with so many other characteristics, there just seem to be those people who find a reason to be grateful in most situations in life, and those who don’t. Of course, all the latest research on the human genome, all the analysis and commentary about it, make clear that it is unlikely there is a particular gene for gratitude just as it is unlikely there is a particular gene for any other personality trait or characteristic. Rather, there are likely many genes that play a contributing role in shaping various characteristics of our personality profile. They each contribute a piece to who we are, the nature of our prescriptions and predispositions. But, yes, there is more.

As you say, there is also that acculturating role played out by our families, community and culture. That is, to some undetermined extent, we also learn to be the way we are. But if neither your genes nor acculturation have pointed you in that direction—and especially if life has been unkind to you—then the call to have a grateful heart can seem taunting, unfair at the least, don’t you think?

But also consider this: many would attest that when you accept God’s Spirit of Love into your life, when He takes up residence in your soul, you increasingly experience that Love and express those characteristics consistent with it, including gratitude. It may be that He transforms you, that you become more like Him, or that you are more filled with Him and it is now He who is more often expressed through you. What I experience could be explained either way, I suppose, but the latter feels more right to me, personally and biblically. Regardless, there isn’t as much room for the old you to express your old failings or shortcomings, those aspects of you now more crowded out and increasingly fading. And then you feel so awed, loved and at peace, so much closer to God, that it seems that what remains of your old self now feels more grateful, too.

I have so much to be grateful for: family, friends, an inquisitive spirit, education, reason, success, travel, service, and relative security—but even more for the trust and peace that is increasingly mine in saying, yes, to the One who calls me, for a changing, consuming life following Him. Regardless of how you understand it, gratitude is a wonderful thing. Whether a genetic predisposition, a family or cultural legacy, or an expression of a consuming experience of God, it is to me nonetheless a gift of God. And I am grateful for it.

First written: January - June 2005
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Humility

Let’s get real about humility. We’ve spoken of its importance. And some of the same things that we said about gratitude could also be said about humility (and forgiveness and other characteristics of Christ, for that matter). But there are things that need to be said specifically about humility and how we might usefully find a greater experience of it. We also need to be clear about how far we can progress as a matter of our own will and discipline, and about the limits within the process of our spiritual formation or transformation, as well. Because, as my pastor is wont to remind us, it’s not heaven yet.

Many years ago, I read some writings of an Eastern spiritual master who said something like this: trying to eliminate your ego is like trying to physically devour yourself. He could just as well have spoken in terms of trying to be humble or selfless as eliminating your ego. Same idea. Such is the nature of who we are in the world. It’s just the way we’ve evolved, the way we’re genetically hard-wired. It’s a necessary part of our journey to this place.

A positive and constructive sense of identity and self-regard are necessary for our growth, including our spiritual growth. And as challenging as the transitions can sometimes become in moving from more identity in the world to more identity in life with God, care must be exercised to manage and maintain a wise and healthy balance. To approach humility as a goal or purpose unto itself—and with only your will and personal discipline to take you there—is likely a fool’s errand. And any progress you may perceive in yourself is likely more personal delusion than personal change—or affectation sustained by spiritual pride.

But if your purpose is following the invitations of the One who calls you, seeking the intimacy that ushers you into greater identity with Him, then one day you may awake and find that a new sense of humility is a growing part of your character, your nature. It begins with and depends on the authenticity and ardor of your desire to abide more in the Spirit of Christ, and results in more a sense of Christ’s Spirit abiding in you. This will move you toward a greater sense of transcendence of self. This is the development and function of spiritual humility. And it is God’s Spirit and Love that guide you, which open the doors and move you through. The disappointments and losses of life, the passings of this world, can then add more personal and spiritual depth to that humility as you more easily find spiritual perspective rather than despair and resentment.

Humility, then, is not something to be sought as an end in itself. It is the necessary and unavoidable result of life lived seeking transcendent relationship in the intimacy of faith, hope and love in Jesus and, through Him, in God. It takes you to the unnerving edge of a changing identity that reflects less of you and more of Jesus, and to the reality that, in a new sense, you dwell more with Christ in God.

In the wonder of it all, borrowed words flow out desperately trying, but impotent, to convey understanding or feeling of this new experience and understanding. It is as though Christ becomes more a shared experience and identity. His life and teachings revealed in the Gospels become less something you know about, reflect on or imagine, and somehow more a part of your experience, expressed character and feelings.

Sometimes, it's as though you see more with His eyes, hear more with His ears, feel and react more with His heart. Christ becomes less often Someone sensed as a separate presence, and more often that indwelling Spirit you live through. Others times, the identities may seem more separate again, but your sense of Christ’s or God’s Spirit present remains. And even in those times when the stuff of the world again and rudely yanks you away, temporarily strips you of your broader sense of spiritual identity, there most often remains a greater sense of humility.

Now you may sometimes prefer to think that your own obedience and discipline, your will, has played a role, too. And there is no question that as Christ’s or God’s Spirit abides in you more, you will want to imitate or to express more the humility modeled and taught by Jesus. And there is a role played by this ardor for obedience and discipline. But please understand that even this is the work of God’s Spirit.

And expect to see the world from more an incarnational perspective, to see more of God’s expression and communication in His creation, particularly in the details of life. Expect to find your mind, heart and spirit more open to learning more and different things about people, the world, and life with God. Expect a more Spirit-informed faith and trust in God that acknowledges that those of other faith traditions may also know God, and be called by Him—and that we are able to learn something of God and community from and with each other. Expect an intellectual humility regarding new knowledge and research which adds richness and awe to our understanding of God’s wondrous creation.

Expect also a more forgiving heart and spirit. With greater spiritual humility and the present Spirit of God comes more capacity and inclination toward forgiving. And that humility and forgiveness extinguish anger and resentment. They cannot share the same spiritual space.

Expect to find in humility the place where God is better understood and His Love experienced more fully.

First written: November 2006 - January 2007
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Forgiveness

We all want to be forgiven our failings, but have difficulty forgiving others. Yet forgiveness is central to the identity and ministry of Jesus. From His dramatic teaching on our continuous call to forgive and the personal forgiveness He extended to individual supplicants in His path, to His atoning sacrifice on the cross, the Gospels attest clearly and often to the importance of this ministry. As such, it also represents a most important human expression of God’s identity: agape Love. Therefore, it is also central to the Christian identity and Christian life. But, as in the case of love, the way of forgiveness can be a difficult, challenging path to walk, even in the company of the Spirit of our Lord. And yet it only grows more essential as we move from individual relationships in community to deeper identity and relationship with God.

Jesus’ teaching on the subject of forgiveness appears simple, direct and clear: if you don’t forgive others, God will not forgive you. I know that sounds too unqualified and harsh for most of us. It doesn’t seem to reflect the unqualified love of our Lord and our God. Ironically, the sound of it does not seem to resonate with the notion of forgiveness at all, does it? But there are many tough-love teachings of Jesus in the Gospels—and this appears to be one of them. But let’s consider a broader theological context of the teaching, and what else is taught and promised about forgiveness, ours and God's.

The first and most stunning teaching is prominently placed within and directly after Jesus’ teaching on how to pray in Matthew 6:12. Within the Lord’s Prayer we are instructed to pray: “...and forgive us our debts [or trespasses, or sins] as we also forgive our debtors [or, those who trespass or sin against us].” And if you have glossed over it too quickly or cavalierly in rote recitation, or have doubts about its interpretation, then all you have to do is read the unambiguous statements that follow the prayer in verses 14-15:
For if you forgive men for their transgressions, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men, then your Father will not forgive your transgressions.
Later in Matthew in chapter 18: 23-35, as if to drive home the point, Jesus teaches again the same lesson using the story of the “wicked slave.” Since he showed no forgiveness or mercy to his fellow slave and debtor, his master wouldn’t forgive his debt and handed him over to the torturers. Jesus draws the lesson from the story saying,
So shall My heavenly father also do to you, if each of you does not forgive his brother from his heart.
And if some of us should think that there must still be implied, reasonable limits to the exercise of our patience and our forgiveness, that at some point every debtor, trespasser or agent of harm has no claim on our forgiveness or mercy, perhaps we should think again. At Matthew 18: 21-22, the disciple Peter presents to Jesus the question that set the occasion for the last teaching: “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?” And Jesus famously responds,
I do not say to you up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.
Whatever we may think of the seeming unqualified rigidity of this teaching, however we may construct practical ways or rationalizations to deal with it, there can be little question of the high priority Jesus places on a forgiving spirit.

But before we despair too much about the impossibility of our situation, we must recognize the similarity in the style and standards of this teaching and Jesus’ earlier teaching in the Sermon on the Mount—for example, the teaching on loving even our enemies, of having no lust in our hearts, or being perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect. In the same way, He reaches past the standard of the humanly challenging and difficult to the impossible standard of God’s righteousness—not to condemn us, but to remind us of our human limitations, and reveal God’s path of love, humility and redemption through Jesus. And so, we must continually remind ourselves that while we surely fail against that standard of perfection, we are yet covered by His protection and leadership—forgiven, made clean, and renewed—through our faith, hope and love in our Lord Jesus. As Paul assures us in Rom. 8,
There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
And 1Jn.1 makes clear that if we earnestly confess our errors or sins, God is faithful to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Earlier in Matt.12, Jesus also makes clear that any sin or blasphemy shall be forgiven except blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, likely ascribing the good work of the Holy Spirit to Satan.

The closer we hold to Jesus, the more ardently we seek God, the more we will find identity in God through Him. And, as a result, the more often, the more completely, our inclinations and responses will conform to God’s and move us toward a spirit of forgiveneness. But only as we accept His invitations, can the love of our Lord and His abiding-in Spirit take us there. For only when we can forgive others, the world, ourselves, even God—and from our hearts—can we be unburdened enough, prepared enough, to allow God’s Spirit to work in the deeper places of our soul to conform us more to identity in Him.


First written: July 2008
© Gregory E. Hudson 2008

Prayer

Things can change for you. Each day can have a different, more meaningful look. You can become more aware of God’s incarnational winks and nods, smiles and touches, of his directing and cautioning hand upon you. Life can become more about His reaching out through the wonders and mysteries of the world to expand what you may see and hear, sense and know, about Him and you. And prayer will become more often your orientation and disposition, your accommodating medium of relationship with Him and His creation.

You may feel called to compassionate, petitioning prayer, grateful, praising and worshiping prayer, but also prayerful meditation on God’s teaching and truth for you. You may even spend time with the Ignatian Exercises. In time, perhaps, comes walking-around prayer, listening-and-watching prayer, loving-and-being-loved prayer. Prayer then becomes more selfless attention to God and others. And the inept, insecure attempts at denial of self may be replaced with a more natural sense of identity with God’s Spirit, His creation, His invitations, and His love. You may also come into a more intimate place with God where you are more captive to His indwelling presence, and more often His peace, as He quietly continues to change who you are in Him.

And you can find your way there with Jesus. To that end, if you spend time prayerfully meditating on what he said and did, if you allow Him to draw close to you, His Spirit to reside in you and speak to you, His nature to rest on you, then it is more natural, more instinctive, it seems, to love God and love and forgive others, to show patience, compassion and humility, to see all people as brothers and neighbors.

First written: November 2006 - January 2007
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

The Cross

There is also this matter of the cross. What role does it play and what does it mean in this whole process? Certainly there is the Mystery of the atonement—the substitutional atonement and exemplary atonement of Jesus’ death on the cross. It is said that in the Mystery of God’s Love and forgiveness, Jesus’ sacrificial death has closed our corrupting distance from God and opened wide the door to His presence and grace, now and forever. That’s a lot to get your mind and heart around. And if you are having some trouble with it on one level or another, you have lots of company. But don’t let it deter you or put you off. It is something that is often better understood with time, life experience, and deepening prayer relationship with Him.

But we are also invited to our own cross experiences. And please understand that if you accept His invitations, these cross experiences unavoidably attend them. Certainly there is the heightened sense of personal anguish and pain for the suffering and loss of other people in the world, and the heightened sensitivity to your own shortcomings and failings. That’s all part of taking up your cross and following Him. But there can also be more solitary, dark or desert experiences that attend the fading centrality of temporal identity and attachments, replaced in time by more joy and peace in closer identity with Jesus and God. This is a very personal cross experience, a more profound and intimate cross experience which, inexplicably, mysteriously, follows and relates to a shared cross and resurrection experience with Jesus.

First written: November 2006 – January 2007
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Illness

Perhaps, you have also had experience in the company of protracted illness. However disheartening, could that too be part of your spiritual journey? Can you possibly serve God as obediently, as effectively, when you are chronically ill as when you are well?

I would be remiss if I didn’t speak of the experience of chronic, debilitating illness. Early in the experience, it may be viewed optimistically as a passing inconvenience that temporarily denies you the things you used to do, and being in an outward sense who you are or used to be. But then, as time passes, you change and find yourself moving through life with a slower, more measured pace, both physically and spiritually. And it may even occur to you that it could be a condition, a situation that God allowed to beset you—but regardless, an experience or challenge that God could use to advance your spiritual perspective.

But if so, you might also hope or even expect to be restored—right?—ready to return to health, spiritually strengthened to pray for and strengthen your brothers and sisters. After all, even Job was restored after God inexplicably allowed his catastrophic experience and loss at the hands of Satan (as he suffered also his myopic, accusing friends). The Apostle Peter was also restored after Jesus gave permission for his “threshing” by Satan, likely his anxious, fearful retreat as he denied relationship with his suffering Lord. But these stories may not relate to your story—or at least not to your context, time frame, or experiential path. For some, restoration may be of another kind; it may mark a different, more personal and intimate spiritual course.

For many, illness or disability remains for a very long time, if not for life. After six years, mine remains a constant companion. There is sometimes no near-term or long-term physical restoration of body, capability, lost friends or assets. You could easily become despairing or depressed about it all—and at some point, to some extent, you unavoidably will.

But God sometimes may have another reason, another purpose for these inconvenient, often painful or debilitating changes of circumstances. More than a change in what you can do, and as much as a change in identity, it may also provide limitations that protect you from wandering back onto paths earlier walked, paths that now offer nothing more for you in your spiritual journey, and more, may form obstructions to greater intimacy with God. It may also attend a barren stretch or dark night period to be endured--necessary, perhaps, to keep you humbly moving forward in your journey with God. And although time must pass and understandings must be reached, illness can be and sometimes should be embraced as a valued gift from God.

First written: November 2006 – January 2007
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Beyond Believing

Is "believing" in Jesus enough, or should we be changed by Him, too? And if so, how?

Emerging from my contemplative time some mornings has been this overwhelming sense that to stress what we believe over a focus on allowing Jesus to change our lives, misses the point badly, and serves neither God nor our loving relationship with Him. And when we stress so much what we believe and distinguish it so sharply from what other Christians, others of faith, and nonbelievers believe, we spend too much of our time in disagreement and disapproval rather than being the new person in Christ we are called to be, rather than living the new life of love we are called to live in the world.

So, rather than one or another statement of faith or creed to be signed or sworn to, Christians might instead embrace a statement of identity to be sought after through Jesus. For example:

  • Through prayer, study and meditation on Jesus' life and teaching, I will accept God's invitation to seek to be more like Jesus, to model my life after His example and teaching.

  • Through Jesus, I will be open to and accept God's unqualified love for me, and will return that same love Him with all my heart, mind, soul and strength--all that I am--and will allow that love to flow over to all mankind--even those I dislike or who dislike me, even my enemies.

  • Through Jesus, and within His context of final judgment, I will take into my heart His teaching that I do not serve Him if I do not serve the poor, those without clothing, food or drink, the sick, the stranger in our land, and the prisoner.

  • Through Jesus, and with His compassion, humility and gentleness, I will allow my life and my walk with Him to be my statement of Christ and Christianity in the world, my weaknesses and failures notwithstanding.

  • And another important part of Jesus' ministry was His intolerance of leaders characterized by self-righteousness, rigid and loveless legalism, and judgment lacking compassion and mercy. Jesus assailed them as vipers and their faith life as akin to dried old bones in white-washed tombs. Through Jesus, I will always be vigilant and clear about the identity of today's legalists and Pharisees, and those for whom greater identity in God through Christ is neither their apparent motivation nor the apparent basis for their religious behavior.

    Amen

Paul's statement on the importance of faith is essential, of course. And so is James' statement that a faith without works is a dead faith. But most important, it seems to me, is Jesus teaching and example, and His call to a new life in Him--most important not only to the Body of Christ and the work of God's people in the world, but first and foremost to our loving, ever-changing, relationship and identity in Him. And without that, nothing real or good about faith or works endures.

First written: February 2008
© Gregory E. Hudson 2008

Guides, Past & Present

It may also help to expand your reading. You may find it helpful in your journey to read various accounts of those who have heard, answered, and followed after the One who calls us—many to intimate relationship and identity in Him. Many of these Christian sojourners describe their experiences in much the same terms as those who went before them, the language of the Christian faith, contemplative experience, poetry and love. But you can also acquaint yourself with the accounts of persons from different faiths or traditions, and recognize in them similar experiences with God, but described in their language, terms and poetry.

But don’t assume or be satisfied that any one of these personal accounts sees it all clearly, has navigated and charted the path correctly—not for others, not for you. Often you will find individual experiences, epiphanies, and understandings in common; but often, perhaps more often, you will read of differing experiences and understandings. Do not be concerned or troubled about places you’ve not been invited to, and may never be. Just walk the road that has been marked for you. And stay prayerfully close and open to Jesus, to God, His teachings and clear leadings.

And these accounts should not be viewed as a source of new spiritual goals or experiences to seek after or emulate. Rather, identify the common experiences, the ones you can relate to, and seek better understanding of them and their value to you, that you may continue forward with God. That’s all He wants, expects, or allows of you. And because each spiritual invitation and experience is just for you and where you are in your journey, each may have its own unique qualities or characteristics. But yes, these accounts may also provide a rough idea, a helpful description of some of what you may yet encounter on your path following after Him. But you can only go where God has invited you, and that’s the only place you should want to be.

Further, if at all possible, it would be both helpful and wise to have the counsel of a spiritual guide or director, a prayer mentor, a seasoned and wise sojourner. They can help focus your prayer life and relationship with God, but also help you through the crossroads, the confusing, misleading and lost periods, the dark night experiences—and keep you on the ancient path, the right and good way. But finding such a person and placing your trust in him is often difficult to do. As is the case at every crossroad and every turn, you must prayerfully, thoughtfully assess the spirits and fruits of the people and experiences that you would have guide your faith journey.

First written: November 2006 - January 2007

© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Dark Night

Perhaps you’ve heard of the “dark night of the soul.” And if you have, perhaps it's all just too unusual, too conceptually or emotionally distant to relate to, or just too "mystical" for your sensibilities. But, it has been recognized, experienced, and commented on for centuries by those of contemplative or monastic Christian traditions, among various others. Perhaps best known for his treatment of the subject is the 16th-century Spanish Christian contemplative and spiritual director San Juan de la Cruz, or St. John of the Cross.

Yes, his poetry and extensive commentary on the subject are arcane and recondite to the casual reader, but to the sojourner in the dark night experience, they are affirming and consoling; they provide context and understanding. And yes, surely the very notion of the dark night experience suggests spiritualization of misfortune, illness, and the changes of seasons, but so often that’s just how God works, and that is just what he is working with. If it serves you better, more contemporary interpretations of the dark night can be found in Thomas Merton’s inspired Contemplative Prayer and New Seeds of Contemplation, and in Richard Foster’s instructive Celebration of Discipline.

In Richard Foster’s wonderful book, he briefly but helpfully addresses the spiritual experience of the “dark night” in his chapter on solitude. Excerpts from his commentary may be useful to us here.

The ‘dark night’… is not something bad or destructive. On the contrary, it is an experience to be welcomed…The purpose of the darkness is not to punish, but to set us free.

What does the dark night of the soul involve? We may have a sense of dryness, aloneness, even lostness. Any overdependence on the emotional life is stripped away…The dark night is one of the ways God brings us into a hush, a stillness so that He may work an inner transformation upon the soul.

[Foster quotes St. John of the Cross, saying] '…the darkness of the soul mentioned here…puts the sensory and spiritual appetites to sleep…It binds the imagination and impedes it from doing any good discursive work. It makes the memory cease, the intellect become dark…and hence it causes the will also to become arid and constrained, and all the faculties empty…And over all this hangs a dense and burdensome cloud which afflicts the soul and keeps it withdrawn from God.

'During such a time, Bible reading, sermons, intellectual debate—all fail to move or excite us…there is often a temptation to seek release from it and to blame everyone and everything for our inner dullness…You may begin to look around for another church or new experience…This is a serious mistake. Recognize the darknight for what it is. Be grateful that God is lovingly drawing you away from every distraction so that you can see Him clearly. Rather than chafing and fighting, become still and wait.

But because it is such an unexpected and challenging experience for which most are wholly unprepared, and because it can continue for many years, it is important, or at least very helpful, to find a gifted spiritual director to guide you through this process. And it can also be very helpful to consult the recorded experience and guidance of St. John of the Cross, Thomas Merton, or other experienced dark-night sojourners. For I’m not sure if these turbulent waters can be navigated at all well without this affirmation, consolation and direction. If you sense the need and the leading, seek out spiritual direction from the people God places there for you. We have discussed this in Guides, Past & Present.

There are particular Scriptures, poetry and commentaries that seem to speak to this experience in guiding and helpful ways. Among the more relevant, contextual Scriptures might be Isaiah 43: 1-3; Jeremiah 6: 16 and 29: 11-14; Ecclesiastes 3; Job; Matthew 16: 24-26; John 15 and 17: 13-26; 1 John 2: 15-17 and 4: 7-21; Romans 12: 1-2; 2 Corinthians 12: 1-10; Galatians 2:19-20; Colossians 3:1-17; and John 14: 25-27. But let me share with you some other poetry and commentary that apparently, arguably, address more directly the experience of the dark night.

St. John of the Cross offers Jeremiah’s Lamentations at chapter 3: 1-26:

…In dark places He has made me dwell,
Like those who have long been dead.
He has walled me in so that I cannot go out;
He has made my chain heavy.
Even when I cry out and call for help,
He shuts out my prayer.

He has blocked my ways with hewn stone,
He has made my paths crooked…

He has turned aside my ways and torn me to pieces;
He has made me desolate.
He bent His bow
And set me as a target for the arrow.
He made the arrows of His quiver
To enter into my inward parts...

He has filled me with bitterness,
He has made me drunk with wormwood.
He has broken my teeth with gravel;
He has made me cower in the dust.
My soul has been rejected from peace;
I have forgotten happiness.
So, I say, 'My strength has perished,
And so has my hope from the LORD.'

[But then hope, mercy and relief]

Remember my affliction and my wandering,
The wormwood and bitterness.
Surely my soul remembers
And is bowed down within me.

This I recall to my mind,
Therefore, I have hope.
The Lords lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.

'The LORD is my portion,' says my soul,
'Therefore, I have hope in Him.'
The LORD is good to those who wait for Him,
To the person who seeks Him.
It is good that he waits silently
For the salvation of the LORD.
He also makes reference to the experience captured in Psalm 18: 9-28 where the psalmist searches for and senses God behind the darkness:
He bowed the heavens also and came down
With thick darkness under His feet.
And He rode upon a cherub and flew;
And He sped upon the wings of the wind.
He made darkness His hiding place,
His canopy around Him,
Darkness of waters, thick clouds of the skies.
From the brightness before Him passed
His thick clouds, hailstones and coals of fire.
…[But] He rescued me because he delighted in me…
[He] dost light my lamp;
The Lord my God illumines my darkness.
Speaking to me in the same way is the psalmist in Psalm 73: 21-28:
When my heart was embittered,
And I was pierced within,
Then I was senseless and ignorant;
I was like a beast before Thee.

Nevertheless, I am continually with Thee;
Thou hast taken hold of my right hand.
With thy counsel thou wilt guide me,
And afterward receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but Thee?
And beside Thee, I desire nothing on earth.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

.…But as for me,
the nearness of God is my good;
I have made the Lord God my refuge…
And I sense the same movement and assurance of God in the 23rd Psalm, especially in an alternative but competent translation:
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul;
He guides me in the tracks of righteousness
For His name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of deep darkness,
I fear no harm, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
Only goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will return to the house of the Lord forever.
The 14th-century Sufi master and poet, Hafiz, spoke in his own terms of similar spiritual experiences.
All the images of winter I see against your sky.

I understand the wounds
That have not healed in you.
They exist
Because God and Love
Have yet to become real enough
To allow you to forgive
The dream…
[And more]

Keep ringing the bell,
Playing the tamboura,
Calling for Him.
For you
Have touched something holy inside
With your spirit body
And now your eyes look broken
Without His sacred presence near.
The heart is like that:
Blessed and ruined
Once it has known Divine beauty.

Then it becomes a restless sky hunter.

The lover keeps circling in his being
His sweetest moments with God,
Needing to kiss His face again.

[And lastly]

You have done well
In the contest of madness.

You were brave in that holy war.
You have all the honorable wounds
Of one who has tried to find love
Where the Beautiful Bird
Does not drink…
Wayfarer,
Why not rest your tired Body?
Lean back and close your eyes.
Come morning
I will kneel by your side and feed you.
I will so gently
Spread open your mouth
And let you taste something of the
Sacred mind and life.
Surely
There is something wrong
With your ideas of God,
If you think
Our Beloved would not be so
Tender.
The poetry of St. John of the Cross prominently addresses this invitation to follow God into these dark and unknown places—and into deeper intimacy with Him. These are places that cannot be traversed without Faith, Hope and trust in God. And, in the darker, more despairing times, we must also walk with forgiveness—forgiveness of others, the world, ourselves, and God.

From The Spiritual Canticle:
Where have you hidden,
Beloved, and left me moaning?
You fled like the stag
After wounding me;
I went out calling you,
But you were gone….

O woods and thickets
Planted by the hand of my Beloved!
O green meadow,
Coated, bright, with flowers,
Tell me, has He passed by you?...

Ah, who has the power to heal me?
Now wholly surrender yourself!
Do not send me any more messengers;
They cannot tell me what I must hear….
Why, since you wounded this heart,
Don’t You heal it?
And why, since You stole it from me,
Do You leave it so,
And fail to carry off what you have stolen?...

[But,] In the inner wine cellar
I drank of my Beloved,
And, when I went abroad through all this valley,
I no longer knew anything,
And lost the herd that I was following.
And from The Dark Night:
One dark night,
Fired with love’s urgent longings
—ah, the sheer grace!—
I went out unseen,
My house being now all stilled.

In darkness, and secure,
By the ladder, disguised,
—ah, the sheer grace!—
In darkness and concealment,
My house being now all stilled.


On that glad night
In secret, for no one saw me,
Nor did I look for anything
With no other light or guide
Than the one that burned in my heart.

This guided me
More surely than the light of noon
To where He was awaiting me
—Him I knew so well—
There in a place where no one appeared.

O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!
O night that has united
The Lover with His beloved...

And from his Commentary:
O, then, spiritual soul, when you see your appetites darkened, your inclinations dry and constrained, your faculties incapacitated for any interior exercise, do not be afflicted; think of this as grace, since God is freeing you from yourself and taking from you your own activity.

And lastly, some practical advice from Richard Foster on relating your situation to others during the Dark Night experience:

What should we do in such a time of inward darkness? First, disregard the advice of well-meaning friends to snap out of it. They do not understand what is occurring. Our age is so ignorant of such things that I recommend that you not even talk about these matters. Above all, do not try to explain or justify why you may be “out of sorts.” God is your justifier; rest your case with Him.
First written: July 2008
© Gregory E. Hudson 2008

My Flesh & My Heart May Fail

For me, it has come down to what the psalmist said in concluding the 73rd Psalm—and it can for you, too. We can make his words our own as he calls out to God saying,

…I am continually with You; You’ve taken hold of my right hand. With Your counsel You guide me, and afterward receive me...My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is my strength and my portion forever…As for me, the nearness of God is my good. I have made the Lord God my refuge that I may tell of His works.

Amen

First written: October 2007
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007



Jesus, the Only Way?

Jesus is Christ and Mystery for me, and holds that place of primacy over others who have been called incarnations of God, prophets of God, or intimates of God, in one sense or another. But it is also clear to me that many people find their way to relationship with God under the authority or with the guidance of a revered founding faith figure, a prophet, saint, or spiritual guide other than Jesus. And if I feel informed in a spiritual sense of Jesus’ singular and eternal unity with God, I also recognize that across the ages some other spiritual leaders, saintly or prophetically gifted individuals, have also enjoyed various and unique experiences of identity abiding in God, and have also been called uniquely to serve Him.

Be open to this reality—and also to the context, likely intent, and limits of Jesus’ well-known statement in the Gospel of John, interpreted by many as broadly excluding just such a reality. On the evening of His Last Supper, Jesus stated to His disciples that they could only come to the Father through Him. We read it or hear of it and, not knowing more, interpret it out of its context as applying to all people everywhere, throughout time. But don’t we have to ask the logical questions and observe the unassailable facts, then and now: Only through Jesus? As opposed to how else? Everywhere, through all time?

It must first be observed that Jesus' ministry was focused on God's people Israel, not those outside that place and the Judaic faith. Matthew 10 recounts Jesus first sending out his disciples saying,

Do not go in the way of the Gentiles, and do not enter any city of the Samaritans; but rather go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

Jesus' ministry was an "in-house" corrective mission among Israel's Jewish people. And one of the prominent elements of this ministry was to challenge the evident spiritual waywardness of the Jewish religious leaders of the time: the Pharisees, priests and scribes. They were the self-serving defenders of their privileged place in theocratic Israel, a place, a role, too much embracing self-righteousness, their rigid, loveless view of the law, and judgment lacking compassion and mercy. Jesus assailed them as vipers and their faith life as akin to dried old bones in white-washed tombs.

It would seem at least reasonable that Jesus’ statements in John’s Gospel, as elsewhere in Scripture, might be interpreted in that context. And that context would suggest that the only way to God might be through Jesus, but only in the sense that the only way to God is through humble faith and agape love--as opposed to through the religious hierarchy and narrow teaching of the time, the spirtiually loveless administration of the law by the religious leaders. It would be expressed first through a consuming love for God, then a love for all mankind lived out through forgiveness, compassion and gentleness, the characteristics of Jesus and of God.

And isn’t it also important to consider the particular circumstances of Jesus’ statement? On that same night that he would be betrayed by Judas, and after issuing a new commandment that they should love one another, He informed His disciples that,

Where I go you cannot follow now; but you shall follow later…for I go to prepare a place for you…that where I am, you may be also.” Thomas asked, “Lord we do not know where you are going, how do we know the way?” Jesus then famously replied, “I am the way, the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father but through me.”

Isn’t it at least quite likely that Jesus is primarily assuring and comforting His disciples in those unnerving circumstances? And importantly, as part of that process, isn’t He also admonishing them that they should not backslide into the rigid, loveless faith life of the Pharisees and the Temple religious? They could not follow after Jesus in that way. Rather, they should hold firm to His example and His teaching of the New Covenant of Love—and in so doing find eternal relationship with Him and God. Isn’t that more likely what is happening here?

It is difficult for me to read into this general context and these limiting circumstances recounted only in John’s Gospel—most, a Gospel of love—the intent of God to limit His prerogatives in speaking through or to any of His people at any time, then or now. Reason, a spiritual sense for the nature and work of God, the past and present experiences of mankind, all suggest that such a conclusion is error—an error that has caused us to create distance and avoid community with so many others who also love God.

This in no way diminishes the singular and timeless shared identity of Jesus with God—nor the singular importance and implication of His coming, His ministry, His death on the cross and His resurrection, then or now. But it acknowledges that in other times, in other places in the world, God has spoken through special relationships with other people, as well. Certainly the history of God’s callings to His people Israel through special human relationships is clear throughout the Old Testament and in the New Testament’s Epistle to the Hebrews. So many found their way to faith relationship with Him in that way. And there are similar relationships and experiences with God recounted in the origins and history of other faith traditions, as well.

In John’s Gospel, he also chronicles Jesus’ promise and explanation of the work of the Holy Spirit of God. Jesus revealed that He had many more things to say to His disciples, but they could not bear them at that time—they were not ready to receive the further teaching. Jesus assures them, however, that when God’s Spirit comes, they will be guided further into the truth Jesus did not fully reveal.

And certainly more was revealed to the Apostles after Pentecost, as presented in the Acts of the Apostles and the various Epistles of Paul, John and Peter. But there is nothing in the Scriptures suggesting that the Spirit of God does not continue to reveal more of God’s truth to His people—for individual and collective understanding and edification—after the apostolic age. And as Paul in his epistle to the Colossians assures us that we put on a “new self” and are

'renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created [us],' he makes clear it is a renewal led by God’s Spirit 'in which there is no distinction between Greek, and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or freeman—Christ [God] is all and in all.'

And He speaks to all. Early in his letter to the Romans, a letter most about faith, Paul states unequivocally that what is known about God He “made evident” to all men.

'For since the creation of the world,' Paul elaborates, 'His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen , being understood through what has been made, so that they [all] are without excuse.'

If God so clearly reveals himself to all in this most natural and universal way—and if all therefore "have no excuse"—then surely, just as naturally, just as universally, His Spirit indwells, leads and teaches those who in this way accept His invitations to faith and relationship.

Surely also, then, reason and the broader spiritual experience of mankind compel us to acknowldege that God's Spirit has called to personal relationship with Him people in many faith cultures and traditions throughout time. A spiritual sense of God's nature and purposes helps us to understand that. And it's just as true today as it's always been.

As much as various religions try to deny it, try to define or limit the conditions and processes by which God calls and leads people—and in the process, try to define or limit people's access to Him—God will do what God has always done. He will love them all, call them to relationship with Him, each in his own way, show them compassion and forgiveness—all of them—whether the rest of us acknowledge or honor it, or not.

Why should we fail to acknowledge the broader work of God by denying His intention and willingness to continue to call to others of His people in different times and places through the different people and ways they best understand, before and after the incarnation in Jesus? It's quite simply what He has always done. Surely we shouldn't be surprised that people in other faith traditions have for millennia borne witness to this fact.

(But I do understand. We have our reasons—reasons based largely in defending our sense of identity in the too-human, too legalistic, organizational and theological constructs of our various religious cultures. And, of course, so many of us must continue the self-aggrandizing illusion of each of our traditions’ exclusive relationship with God. Humility, indeed.)

As a young man, I sojourned with an Eastern faith community. It was through them that God drew me back to Him. It was through them that I found a personal faith and first experienced God’s love. It would then be over a decade before God would lead me back to Jesus and the misunderstood faith of my childhood. If your faith orientation denies this reality, look into the eyes or read the writings of some of the many confessing lovers of God from other faith traditions. Listen to their earnest testimony of ardent love for Him and intimacy with Him. Understand that God is encountered there, too. And find joy in how many new brothers and sisters you have found.

This is difficult to communicate to the more orthodox brothers and sisters in Christ. They do not believe it, and don’t want to. They don't want to understand how or why it is true. But it is true. And the deeper my prayer life takes me, the more transcendent my spiritual life becomes, the clearer this is made to me.

But for those of us who God has invited to experience identity in Him through Jesus as spiritual Lord and guide, we should faithfully continue with Him, gratefully and humbly. His nature is Love and forgiveness, compassion and humility; His teaching and example are true in the greater, spiritual sense of truth; and His identity is of the same nature and reality as God’s. And through Jesus, we can move toward sharing something of the nature and reality of that identity, too.

First written: November 2006 – January 2007, updated November 2007 - March 2008
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

God, Spirit & Jesus

And don’t allow yourself to become intellectually tangled or spiritually confused by the mystery of the three Persons of the Trinity. If you do, it may misdirect or overly complicate your faith and prayer life—and, therefore, your search for deeper relationship with God. The Trinity is impossible for most of us to intellectually understand; so don’t make the understanding of God a prerequisite to moving forward with Him. You can always trust Him to reveal what you need to understand for deeper relationship with Him.

It is sufficient to acknowledge and embrace the working understanding that somehow, as the New Testament makes clear, God is Spirit and God is Love. And when Biblical accounts speak about the separate "persons", roles and works of God as Father, Christ the Son, and the Holy Spirit, it is unnecessary and often confusing to try to separate whether it is God a Spirit or God as Holy Spirit or God as the Spirit of Christ that calls or speaks to us, abides in us, leads us or teaches us. It is sufficient to know that God is not severable in this way in these functions; it is all the same Spirit and Love of the one God.

Here it is more useful to place in abeyance the paradox of the Trinity, and encounter and experience God as that Spirit and Love, as the One who calls us. But it is also important that we have a clear knowledge of Jesus and a singular, abiding-in relationship with Him as Lord and Spiritual Master, as the human revelation of the divine nature and teachings of God, and as the human example of how to live according to those teachings.

First written: November 2006 – January 2007, updated November 2007 - March 2008
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Names & Pronouns for God?

You also need to know how misled it is to see or create distance between yourself and other people of faith based on how they variously communicate the notion or name of God in their different faith traditions and languages. When you hear the voice of the One who calls you, recognize that there is no difference in identity among the One with no name, YHWH, God, Allah, Lord, or other verbal identifiers in other languages or faith traditions for the One whom English speakers call God. Those are merely different names, different verbal utterances, to identify the same Spirit God and Lord of all.

And while I persist in referring to the One who calls us as He or Him, I do so only out of historical grammatical form and use of language. He/She is just such clumsy and unsightly usage anytime, and “It” will never do when referring to the One who calls us, the Lord of Life. God is somehow in substance and identity living Love and Spirit, and in fact admits of no divisive or differentiating qualities such as gender. God is not and cannot be limited or contained in any of these ways.

First written: November 2006 – January 2007, updated November 2007 - March 2008
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Who Is My Brother?

Who is my brother or sister on my spiritual journey? How do I recognize such people? Is it their profession of faith, their claim of identity or outward appearance? Is it everyone who says, Lord, Lord? More and more, as my prayer relationship with God has deepened, there has emerged another understanding for me. The New Testament’s first letter of John challenges us saying,

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love….God is love, and the one who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.

This teaching finds authority and inspiration in the many similar and challenging teachings on love by Jesus, especially those in the Gospel of John.


Another challenging teaching of Jesus is on the disowning final judgment of those who do not help or serve “the least of our brethren”—those who therefore do not serve Him. These two teachings would cause me to be much more humble and generous in my recognition of who may know and walk with God--in the many Christian communities, yes, but also in the communities of other faith traditions as well. At the very least, I should be ready to share God’s love toward all of them, and be open to receiving God’s love from any of them.

And for those who would hasten to point out that another person has not accepted Jesus as Lord, I would only suggest that we carry enough humility to inform us that we may not know all things about God, or Jesus, or the Spirit of God, or how He works with the people He loves—which includes all people, everywhere. An evident love of God and all humanity, and unselfish service or help to those most in need, brings one so close to Christ’s identity and teaching, so close to the heart of God, that I would feel uncontrollably moved to call him brother—and leave the working out of our differences and their importance to God.

But beware of those who profess faith in God and identity with His people, who maintain the outward appearance and language of faith community, but reflect no love for the larger family of humanity, or do not serve the needs of the poor and unable. Avoid the angry, cultural and political warriors, and the fundamentalists of all faiths who appear unable to receive or convey God’s unqualified love. They too often serve only themselves and their cultural, political or cultish interests, and are too often in the process of condemning or discriminating against one group or another that God would have them love. They also appear unable to receive God’s Spirit, His forgiveness, compassion and humility. For if they could, they would more often reflect it and share it with others in the lives they live within and without their communities.

First written: November 2006 – January 2007, updated November 2007 - March 2008
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Citizenship

It isn’t heaven yet. By now you know that, of course. It is in this world and with other people that you must work through your relationship with God with awe, reverence, caution and wisdom. And you are called to be God’s people, reflecting Jesus’ heart and Spirit to others, but especially to those most hurting and in need. By now, you know that, too.

I know that you are anxious to remind me that we are called also to be in this world but not of it, to recognize that our citizenship is in heaven. Authorities of no less stature than Jesus and the Apostle Paul made recurring reference to this eternal, spiritual truth. And these same beliefs are held in other religions and spiritual traditions, as well. But, you do understand the spiritual context and existential limitations of this teaching, I’m sure.

And you understand that this teaching should be approached only in that balanced, spiritual context. It should not be understood to provide a basis for withdrawing in any sense from the world and its challenges, or failing to engage your roles and duties, your opportunities for growth and contribution in day-to-day life. And it certainly should not provide a rationalization for separating yourself from other people, either physically or emotionally—and certainly not based on misguided understandings, assurances or self-assessments of your relative spiritual self worth or standing.

In a most real sense you are in this world. And if your temporal existence is here, you also have citizenship and responsibilities here. For us to stress too much—and out of context—that we are not of the world is to be unnecessarily oblique and misleading about the importance of our life and our relationships here in God’s creation.

To fail to take seriously your place or role in broader society is to fail to live your life fully and grow fully to both your existential and spiritual potential. And in most cases, that means you fail to achieve God’s plan for you, and possibly for others.

It is also clear that part of your worship and expression of gratitude is the continuous development and full expression of your abilities and spiritual gifts. This is accomplished in large part through everyday life and relationships in the world. In the end, it is spiritually important to experience them all, the loving, forgiving, compassionate and serving relationships, yes, and the striving, disagreeable, hurtful, and disappointing relationships, as well. I remind you of what Jesus reminded us: God is all and in all. And He works through all.

And in this citizenship, this role, you must first and always be oriented toward reflecting what you can of the heart and Spirit of Jesus, the nature of God. Be oriented toward the broader sense of human community and the broader sense of the Body of Christ. As Christ’s Spirit leads, encounter and respect all others as creations and expressions of God—whether or not they share your faith or any faith at all. It is important that you try to meet them all with the eyes and heart of the One who created them, allowing them to sense in you His love for them. So, greet them with humility, respect, joy and compassion, the characteristics most essential to genuinely see and encounter other people as fellow loved creatures of God.

First written: November 2006 – January 2007
© Gregory E. Hudson 2007

Evolving Understandings and Experience of God

[From the Washington Post, a review (8.02.09):]
Thank God for agnostics. Over the past decade, our public conversation about religion has all too often degenerated into a food fight between the religious right and the secular left. Now comes journalist Robert Wright with a gentler approach: a materialist account of religion that manages (sort of) to make room for God (of a sort).
"The Evolution of God" is a big book that addresses a simple question: Is religion poison? ...The assumption underlying many answers to these questions--an assumption shared by fundamentalists and "new atheists" alike--is that religions are what their founders and scriptures say they are, rather than what contemporary practitioners make them out to be.
Wright rejects this assumption...Scriptures are malleable. Founders are betrayed. At least for historians, there is little provocation here. The provocation comes when Wright claims that religious history seems to be going somewhere, as if guided by an invisible hand. Judaism, Christianity and Islam all appear to have a "moral direction," and that direction is toward the good...
The key argument is that, ever since hunters and gatherers have been hunting and gathering, the invisible hand guiding human history has been working (largely through advances in technology and communication) to create non-zero-sum situations that force historical actors, often against their own inclinations, into ever-widening circles of moral concern. Jews, Christians and Muslims are led (gradually and in fits and starts) toward moral universalism not because religions are inherently good but because believers are inherently flexible--flexible enough to see when they and their enemies are in the same boat.
All this happens, it should be emphasized, on entirely naturalistic grounds. Wright, a self-described "materialist," believes that history is driven not by fiat from on high but by natural selection via "facts on the ground." In his account, Judaism gives rise to Christianity and Islam without even a whiff of the supernatural...
Yet all Wright's talk of "business models" and "algorithms" and "positive network externalities" somehow opens up the conversation about God rather than closing it down. In this oddly old-fashioned book, which recalls Hegel more than anyone else, Wright speaks repeatedly of "design" and "goals" and "purposes" in human history.
In the end, Wright allows himself to wonder whether the evolution of "God," the concept, might provide evidence for the existence of God, the reality. "If history naturally pushes people toward moral improvement, toward moral truth, and their God, as they conceive their God, grows accordingly, becoming morally richer," he writes, "then maybe this growth is evidence of some higher purpose, and maybe -- conceivably--the source of that purpose is worthy of the name divinity."
--"Preaching the Gospel of Maybe," a review by Stephen Prothero of The Evolution of God by Robert Wright, The Washington Post (8.02.09). Stephen Prothero is a religious studies professor at Boston University and the author of Religious Literacy: What Every American Needs to Know -- and Doesn't.
This is a good and interesting review of a more interesting book. What I find most notable about it is that Wright embraces a deterministic observation--an inference, really--more openly expressed these days by voices in evolutionary science and observers of humanity and history. That inference is that there appears a "direction," perhaps a "purpose," to the evolution of mankind, his experience in community and with religion--perhaps even a "higher purpose."

Wright posits that the evolution of religions has recurrently set the occasion for extending the “moral imagination”—shared moral empathy, even identity—among ever-expanding groups of people from different religious traditions. Focusing on the Abrahamic faiths, he explains how this has been happening over the millennia as the growth and advancement of peoples in the world pushes them closer into expanding definitions of community and the need for mutually-beneficial cooperation, what he calls “non-zero-sumness.” And yes, Mr. Wright opens the door for consideration of “direction” and “higher purpose” in it all, which for him are “moral truth” and the “source of the moral order.” But if some people of faith feel implicitly invited, even compelled, to extend his inferences further, Mr. Wright, by reasoned conviction, stops short of the scientifically unprovable: Deity.

Many people of Abrahamic religious identities will surely object to some of Wright's observations about the history and evolution of their Scriptures and narratives, their faith practices and community, and faith itself--the "evolution of God." Many will dismiss the book as misleading or unimportant--perhaps even insulting--to people of faith, because its thesis is such a modest concession in the direction of a deterministic quality to the world, and leaves them well short of the sought after validation of deistic faith--and their particular version of it. Its intellectual inferences and speculations clearly fail to embrace an omniscient, omnipotent, ubiquitous and intervening personal God--whether imagined as anthropomorphic (which is hard to reconcile with ubiquitous), a spirit being of some type, or something different or more abstract. Interestingly, Wright nevertheless provides an Afterword in which he speculates on what God is. (The Gospel of John's more abstract characterizations as Spirit, Logos, Love, Truth and Light resonate most with me.) And, of course, on the other end of the continuum, many atheists and anti-theists will also reject Wrights inferences outright, fearful that they go too far and imply too much.

But the closer a person of faith and prayer is necessarily drawn to spiritual or deistic abstractions, the closer Robert Wright's more abstract reflections and possibilities approach an affirming determinism not at all antagonistic to the intuition and experience of faith, Abrahamic or others. Wright clearly suggests that, among various abstractions of "higher purpose", his "the source of the moral order" is not so distant from Christian theologian-philosopher Paul Tillich's "the ground of being," or, for that matter, the estimable psychologist-philosopher William James' "belief that there is an unseen order, and that our supreme good lies in harmoniously adjusting to it." Of course, many conservative and fundamentalist believers would sniff dismissively at the reflections of Tillich and James, too. But my point is simply that they nevertheless find a legitimate, meaningful place on the field of religious or spiritual discourse.

I would also suggest that, among the various organized religions, conceptual abstractions of "higher purpose" would likely first find resonance with notions of spiritual truth, divinity, or Deity among the most prayerfully devout, the more contemplative groups or adherents of those faiths. For, with regard to their spiritual apprehensions, epiphanies, and understandings that most defy description or explanation, conceptual abstractions alone are useful in expressing them and relating to them.

But to the the conservative and fundamentalist, Wright's inferences will most often be viewed as misguided speculations and meaningless abstractions--an intellectual construction of an ambiguous, godless determinism irreconcilable with the Scriptures, constraints and requirements of their Abrahamic religions.

Evolutionary Convergences: Direction? Purpose?

As insightful and interesting as this book by Wright is, it is not the most important to infer an inherent or overarching "direction" or "purpose" from empirical observations of the evolutionary progress of life, mankind, and human community. Notable is his earlier, highly-acclaimed book, Nonzero, which first set the foundation for Evolution of God. But for me, the more important work belongs to Simon Conway Morris (as shared in my essay/post, Conway Morris: Evolutionary "Convergences"--with a Purpose? (Hyde Park's Corner 6.24.08).

Dr. Conway Morris is chaired Professor of Evolutionary Palaeobiology at the University of Cambridge, UK. His pioneering work on the Cambrian fauna, the "Cambrian explosion" (of life and species, that is) based on the Burgess Shale fossils was the subject of his 1998 book, The Crucible of Creation. It earned him world-wide professional recognition and respect. He is a member of the Royal Society and has been the recipient of many professional awards and medals.

But for our purposes, his more interesting and provocative work advanced the proposition that evolutionary "convergences" of form and function play a more central, universal role in the evolution of life forms on Earth--and that evolutionary "direction" or "purpose" might be inferred from it. And, yes, Conway Morris offers his conclusion on that "direction" and "purpose": the evolution of sentient, reasoning beings--and all the additional metaphysical questions of "Why?" and "What purpose?" that follow from it.

By evolutionary "convergences" is meant the tendency of evolving forms to find the same or very similar evolutionary solutions in species advancement regardless of when or on what branch of the evolutionary tree the life form evolves. Overworked examples would include camera eyes and various types of limbs for mobility and manipulation, among many others. But, most intriguing is his proposition that sentience and cognition are also convergent evolutionary solutions, and that something like intelligent humans would evolve regardless of how many times you rerun the evolutionary process of life. (This proposition was the subject of a years-long disagreement and debate between he and Steven J. Gould.)

Professor Conway Morris's case is most comprehensively presented and defended in his 2003 book, confidently titled, Life's Solution: Inevitable Humans in a Lonely Universe. That was followed in 2008 by The Deep Structure of Biology: Is Convergence Sufficiently Ubiquitous to Give a Directional Signal?, which he organized and edited. This volume is a compendium of articles by authors representing interests as varied as micro-biology, botany, human evolution, metaphysics and faith. They offer a range of views on these questions of "direction" and "purpose," and whether there results a "deeper structure," a purposeful lawfulness in the evolutionary mechanisms and constraints in the world of biology.

Of course, Conway Morris's work and conclusions have their detractors, most prominent among them--in addition to Gould--being committed anti-theists such as Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennett. For they see the implications of this work leading to more serious consideration of questions of Higher Purpose, spiritual Truth, even Deity, where my brethren in faith most often do not, or are indifferent to it. The anti-theists are concerned about credible stepping stone being laid down a slippery slope. The fact that Conway Morris is a Roman Catholic Christian likely makes them all the more uncomfortable.

Regardless, skeptics, atheists, and anti-theists will still take a measure of comfort in the fact that however provocative this research and reasoning, however appealing its more deterministic mechanisms to some people of faith, it still takes us no closer to proving or disproving the existence of God, however defined. Yet, it nonetheless reflects better how some of we faithful might envision how a creative Higher Order, Author Spirit or abstract Deistic notion--God, however imagined--might order and direct the purposes for creation. I conclude on this point as I did in my 2005 essay, What God?:
And so I am left with my epiphanies, still asking, what could be more miraculous and awe-inspiring, more beautiful, more humbling, than the complexities and unfathomable realities of evolutionary mechanisms and the progress of life? How else than through these evolving genetic, biochemical, social and psychological processes might all of creation have moved continually upward toward sentience and cognition, curiosity and questioning, the pursuit of truth and identity? For what other purpose might we be brought face to face with the history of the development of creation, and those transcendent apprehensions that lead us, than to seek the sensed Author and understandings of who we are and why we are now here?
Prayer & Spiritual Experience of God: Inferences, Abstractions

Whether confronted with the science and evolutionary interpretations of Simon Conway Morris, or the insights of Robert Wright, many are nevertheless so committed to their identities and understandings that they will not or cannot be moved from them. Some cannot get past the rigidities of their faith or anti-theism, others their indifferent complacency. But there are others who will listen and consider the importance of new research findings and inferences, new understandings and insights.

Among them are those who open-mindedly seek an informed, functioning balance of existential and spiritual identity. Some don't even mind being a "fool for Christ," as the Apostle Paul used that phrase, but will not be a simple fool--the kind of fool who is closed-mindedly blinkered to information and ideas that may conflict with or challenge their beliefs and identity, particularly their religious or ideological identity. For if it is the truth they seek, they must be open to what the truth might be.

These are often people of deistic faith and prayerful dispositions, sometimes contemplative dispositions. Perhaps they are genetically predisposed (as research evidence suggests some may be). And perhaps their temperament (which is also likely genetically influenced) renders them more open to following a spiritual intuition or inclination. Of course, many are also influenced by family and religious acculturation. Regardless, many people appear to have a constructive, emotional need for faith and prayer. They feel drawn, even called to it. Many of us relate to it in just that way, and it makes us more whole.

For some, that wholeness is advanced by transcendent, sometimes transforming spiritual experience, experience that often defies fair and useful description. Often attending it is a received sense of gratitude, humility, even peace. These are most often people whose spiritual journey has delivered them to a more devout, exploratory prayer life and experience of God, experiences not bound by the limitations of rigid fundamentalism, constrained scriptural understandings, or brittle theological barriers. And they share no space with religious legalism of any stripe or degree. But they can share a Spirit of love, forgiveness and compassion, even an experience of "relationship"--and as often, a quiet, patient but engaged openness that offers more freedom and clarity of view, more insight and understanding. And it all can change you.

This more open, contemplative experience can allow us to see in the realities of the material world, and the evolution of humanity in community, the creation and work of God. Every new scientific revelation about it all, every new understanding informed by reason, can be openly considered, and allowed to find its place in the larger reality of a merging existential and spiritual life. You may also feel moved toward Wright's "non-zero-sumness," an expanding sense of commonality, even inclusiveness and community, toward all other people. For, whether you view all this as some variant of the theological, exegetical notion of "progressive revelation," or merely the evolution of our understandings of God, we by nature (or purpose) seek to reach higher, to understand more, to become more.

And on this spiritual walk to higher ground, a growing sense of humility appears essential. The more humility we can bring to this process, the more open and contemplative our prayerful time can become, it seems, and the more clear and unburdened, even transcendent, our understanding of the world and our sense of identity. And the more open we are to expanding our experience of what people of faith call the Spirit of God.


Some of us embrace a Christianity of that type: an open-minded pilgrimage with Christ and the Spirit of God, with Mystery. But we must be intellectually and spiritually honest. For the more one enters into that type of faith and prayer life, the more personal the experience and relationship becomes. And the more important it becomes to recognize how powerfully the language and traditions of faith culture and society shape how we understand those experiences. That is, they inform the inferences and abstractions we become reliant on to find meaning, direction and purpose in those experiences. If we are to be intellectually and spiritually accountable, then, we must also look beyond our personal inferences and abstractions, and those shared or recorded by others of our faith tradition. We must explore those of other faith, contemplative, and philosophical traditions--and the work of research science, too--that also inform our experience, that affirm, augment or advance our understandings.

So thank you, Robert Wright. I think you're onto something--and to Simon Conway Morris, too. But more, I'm grateful for the insights of the Psalms, Sufi and Chan/Zen poetry, and the understandings given up by my faith Scriptures and reverenced texts across faith traditions. For if we would seek some semblance of physical, emotional and spiritual balance, we must pursue well informed personal understandings of the existential and spiritual directions implied by life and humanity in community—and yes, of Higher Purpose, too. And in that process, we must also honor and wrestle respectfully with the complexities of identity, and pursue intelligently the possibility and purpose of doing something useful and honorable with it.

So yes, we should entertain that continuing invitation to be more adventurous in those inquiries and pursuits. And as essential and illuminating as research science is, we should recognize that quite often only the process of reasoned inferences and conceptual abstractions will serve. I'm certainly grateful for how they invite me to think more broadly and comprehensively, more critically, more profoundly about my experiences and understandings of humanity, spirituality, God and faith.

First written: August 2009
© Gregory E. Hudson 2009

Love Is No Game

I first read this on a poster on a friend's wall in Okinawa 41 years ago. It was written by the 20th-century Indian spiritual master Meher Baba, quoting, in part, the 14th-century Sufi poet Hafiz:

True love is no game for the faint-hearted and weak,
It is born of strength and understanding.
[And quoting Hafiz,]
Only a person with his life up his sleeve
Dares kiss the threshold of love.
I was so taken by it--mesmerized, really--that I spent quite some time trying to learn more of both men and their writings. And I have carried those verses with me all these years, unfailingly conscious of them. And as my faith journey carried me home, as I was given over to Christ anew, these words carried no less truth or meaning for me. For whether we are wrestling with the challenges--the joys, frustrations or pain--of love in interpersonal relationships, or the identity-challenging or changing deeper waters of spiritual love--agape love, unitive Love--this wisdom serves us well. And somehow, it seems to offer more as we experience more, as we understand more, as we grow more intimate with Him.

[Posted also to Hyde Park's Corner and, in part, to facebook]