Chapter 3 - Contemplative Prayer
What is prayer?
No Christian will doubt that prayer is an essential component of the devout life, but what is prayer and why is it important; and is one form of prayer better than another? Most Christians, even those who are well-versed in their faith, will say that prayer involves talking to God. We tell God we are sorry for our sins, the prayer of contrition. Or we ask God for some favor for ourselves, the prayer of petition, or for others, the prayer of intercession. Or we thank God for some favor received, the prayer of thanksgiving. Or we praise God for his goodness and glory, the prayer of adoration. In all of these forms of prayer, we are speaking to God, giving God some message that we want God to hear.
Talking to God, of course, is not the only way in which we relate to God. For example, if we want God to hear what we have to say to God, we must also be open to what God has to say to us. We can listen to God through the study of Scripture, hearing the word preached at services or simply sitting quietly, trying to be attentive to the still, small voice of God. Listening to God is as important and, arguably, a more important form of prayer than talking to God. Too often we are quite adept at conveying our desires to God but are less willing to attend to God’s desires for us.
So what is prayer? Prayer, generally, is directing our thoughts, words and actions to God, orienting ourselves toward God in what we say, think and do. This broader notion of prayer enables us to obey the Scriptural injunction to pray always.
Many times I have heard someone say that he or she does not have enough time to pray. What they mean is that they are having trouble finding time for “formal” prayer, a time to read Scripture, or to recite prayers from a book, or simply to recount a list of intercessions for family and friends in need. But there is nothing that prevents anyone from talking to God while at work or driving the kids to school. Even verbal prayer does not have to be lengthy. A short, “God, I love you,” or “Lord, protect my children through the day,” or, “God stand with me in this meeting that I might say and do what you would want me to say and do,” can be as, or more, effective, than a prolonged lecture directed at God. But in addition to talking to God, we can make our actions into prayers by dedicating them to God, by orienting them and ourselves to God as we do them.
For example, most people do not think of sleep as prayer, but adequate sleep is necessary for good physical and mental health. The need for sleep is built into our bodies. It is an integral part of being human, so it could not be sinful. If sleep is not sinful, then it can become a prayer by our deliberately offering it to God. On going to bed, we might well say, “Lord, I offer my sleep this night to you so that I might wake refreshed and better able to serve you tomorrow.” That offering of our sleep to God, accepting God’s will that we should get adequate sleep, intentionally orienting our rest toward God, makes our sleep into prayer, even though we are not talking to God while we sleep.
Again, prayer is directing our thoughts, words and actions to God, orienting ourselves toward God in what we say, think and do. Every aspect of our lives can, and should, be prayer.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Paths to Contemplation - 7
How can we come to the knowledge of God?
As stated above, we ourselves do not have the power to come to the knowledge of God. We cannot, by whatever study or spiritual exercises, bootstrap ourselves into the life of God. Only God can transform us by the power of the Holy Spirit to remove whatever obstacles keep us from loving God with all our hearts and minds and souls and strength. For it is only when we are conformed to God in perfect love so that we can look into the face of God without pain or fear.
There are two aspects to our coming to know God. First, we must accept God’s invitation to allow God to bring us to that knowledge. Second, we must allow God to bring us to that knowledge. We must open ourselves to God so that God can do the work that only God can do. The more we try to control the process, the less control God has and the longer the process will take. To paraphrase a statement of St. Paul’s, I must become less and less and God has to become more and more. Put another way, we must die to self so that we will be able to live more fully in God. Spiritual growth is a process of yielding ourselves up to God.
As we become more conformed to God, we grow in holiness because God is the measure of holiness. The more we live in God, the more loving we become because God is the measure of love.
But we ought not to mistake emotional feelings, or even some experience of God through contemplative prayer(a subject we will explore in the chapters that follow) with genuine holiness or Christian perfection.
In what does holiness consist?
Christ was a perfect human being. But what made him perfect? It was not the color of his hair, or his facial features, or the fact that he was a man. Christ, the human being, was perfect because his human will was totally in accord with the will of his divine Father. Christ always did what the will of God required of him. Christ perfection was in his will. It was the choices Christ made, choices always in harmony with his Father’s will, that made Christ perfect and gave us the example for which ourselves are to strive.
Our union with God in this life is perfected in conforming our will to God’s will in our regard, as best we can discern that will. By always trying to act as we believe God wants us to act, we can best accept God’s invitation to open ourselves to his transforming grace and to remove any obstacles to the action of that grace to mold us into what God wants us to be. God gives us directions not to demonstrate his authority or even to test our obedience, but to help us to cooperate with God to bring us more quickly into conformity with God. The more our wills are attuned to God’s will, the more we are conformed to God; and the more we are conformed to God, the easier it becomes to discern and obey God’s will.
Holiness is not found in emotional highs or special mystical gifts. Our love of God is reflected first and foremost in our wills, in the choices we make, in the control of our lives that we give to God. When God gives us spiritual gifts, God will give the gifts that we need to progress spiritually, or he will give the gifts that the Church needs for the good of the Body(and not for our glorification or as a sign of how special we are), but the gifts we receive may, or may not, reflect our spiritual maturity. Perhaps God gives us some gift to try to jog us from our spiritual laziness, or to encourage us because we are only baby disciples of Our Lord. Remember this throughout the discussion of contemplative prayer.
As stated above, we ourselves do not have the power to come to the knowledge of God. We cannot, by whatever study or spiritual exercises, bootstrap ourselves into the life of God. Only God can transform us by the power of the Holy Spirit to remove whatever obstacles keep us from loving God with all our hearts and minds and souls and strength. For it is only when we are conformed to God in perfect love so that we can look into the face of God without pain or fear.
There are two aspects to our coming to know God. First, we must accept God’s invitation to allow God to bring us to that knowledge. Second, we must allow God to bring us to that knowledge. We must open ourselves to God so that God can do the work that only God can do. The more we try to control the process, the less control God has and the longer the process will take. To paraphrase a statement of St. Paul’s, I must become less and less and God has to become more and more. Put another way, we must die to self so that we will be able to live more fully in God. Spiritual growth is a process of yielding ourselves up to God.
As we become more conformed to God, we grow in holiness because God is the measure of holiness. The more we live in God, the more loving we become because God is the measure of love.
But we ought not to mistake emotional feelings, or even some experience of God through contemplative prayer(a subject we will explore in the chapters that follow) with genuine holiness or Christian perfection.
In what does holiness consist?
Christ was a perfect human being. But what made him perfect? It was not the color of his hair, or his facial features, or the fact that he was a man. Christ, the human being, was perfect because his human will was totally in accord with the will of his divine Father. Christ always did what the will of God required of him. Christ perfection was in his will. It was the choices Christ made, choices always in harmony with his Father’s will, that made Christ perfect and gave us the example for which ourselves are to strive.
Our union with God in this life is perfected in conforming our will to God’s will in our regard, as best we can discern that will. By always trying to act as we believe God wants us to act, we can best accept God’s invitation to open ourselves to his transforming grace and to remove any obstacles to the action of that grace to mold us into what God wants us to be. God gives us directions not to demonstrate his authority or even to test our obedience, but to help us to cooperate with God to bring us more quickly into conformity with God. The more our wills are attuned to God’s will, the more we are conformed to God; and the more we are conformed to God, the easier it becomes to discern and obey God’s will.
Holiness is not found in emotional highs or special mystical gifts. Our love of God is reflected first and foremost in our wills, in the choices we make, in the control of our lives that we give to God. When God gives us spiritual gifts, God will give the gifts that we need to progress spiritually, or he will give the gifts that the Church needs for the good of the Body(and not for our glorification or as a sign of how special we are), but the gifts we receive may, or may not, reflect our spiritual maturity. Perhaps God gives us some gift to try to jog us from our spiritual laziness, or to encourage us because we are only baby disciples of Our Lord. Remember this throughout the discussion of contemplative prayer.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Paths to Contemplation - 6
What does the knowledge of God mean?
What does it mean to know something? In one sense, to know something is to be able to describe it so that others will also know it. In this sense, I can teach others what I know. In the case of some object, if I know the object, I will recognize it when I encounter it. The abilities to describe and to recognize, to know in the sense just outlined, are mental or intellectual abilities. They are powers of the natural mind.
When we refer to the “knowledge of God,” we are not referring to knowledge in an intellectual sense, as something of which our natural minds are capable. God, in God’s infinite and uncreated Being, totally surpasses the natural mental abilities of even the most intelligent human being who has ever lived.
No writer can describe God in words. No artist can draw a picture of God. God cannot be contained within the finite boundaries of our imaginations or reason. This is not to say that we cannot talk about God with some degree of accuracy. After all, Jesus himself taught about God in an authoritative way. Rather, anything we say about God in whatever natural medium we use is necessarily incomplete, and, to some extent, misleading. Jesus also said, “Whoever sees me sees the Father.” It is through Jesus that we can come to see God since Jesus is both created and uncreated being, both human and divine. When we truly see Jesus, we will see God.
I am not suggesting that there is no value to good theology or good preaching since we cannot, in this life, “look into the face of God and live.” We do what we can do with the resources available to us. We must, however, also be wary of mistaking our images of God for God, or what we say about God as adequately describing God. God is, and must always remain, the Ultimate Mystery.
Knowledge through experience
There is also a sense of knowing that relates to experience. To experience something is to come to know that thing. But I can know something intellectually without ever experiencing it. I can talk intellectually about human love, but this is markedly different from actually experiencing human love. Once I have experienced human love, I will recognize that my intellectual knowledge was woefully inadequate. If someone who has experienced deep human love is asked to describe that love, he or she may well reply, “If you have to ask, you would not understand.”
Our most profound human relationships are often indescribable. They take place at some deep level of our being and are so personal that no one but ourselves can truly know them.
Suppose I ask myself the question, “What does it mean to know my wife?” I could, of course, think of characteristics that would enable anyone who encounters my wife to recognize her, but this trivializes something that ought not to be trivialized. My relationship with my wife is both profound and unique. There is a union of lives. There is the love we exchange and the experiences we share. My wife, like any human being, is extraordinarily complex, someone about whom I am always learning new things. I experience my wife on a daily basis in ways that define and modify our relationship. To try to convey what it means to know my wife is an impossible and inherently frustrating task. My rambling about my wife would bore others, not enlighten them, and would not, in any case, adequately describe what it means to know my wife in the sense that I know and love her.
So it is with the knowledge of God, but infinitely more so. To know God, we must experience God as God is. We must somehow live into the “mind” of God to understand God as God understands himself. We must be so attuned to God that we can comprehend God as God comprehends us. Such knowledge cannot come about through our intellects or through any capacity that comes from human nature alone. How then do we acquire such knowledge?
Since we have no power within us to come to the knowledge or experience of God, we must rely entirely on God to gift us with that knowledge. That is, the knowledge of God can come only from God.
Three questions immediately pop to mind? Why would God allow us to know himself? Will God indeed allow us to know him? What must we do to come to this knowledge of God?
The answer to the first question - why would God allow us to know him - is a mystery buried in the heart of God. God is love, and it is the nature of love to pour itself out generously. Although God is sufficient onto himself and has no need of creatures to be God, God is the very essence of love, and love must be shared. Two expressions of God’s love are creation in general and humanity in particular. Humans are beings who can know, who are self-conscious, who can recognize that there is a higher order than just the natural order. Thus prepared, humans are ready to receive the greatest proof of God’s love God has to give, the experience of himself through sharing in his own divine life. God wishes to share his life and self-knowledge with us because of the love that he has for us.
But will God give us this knowledge? After all, the direct experience of God is hardly something that we dare hope for, much less something we can demand. What proof have we that God desires to share this wonderful gift with us?
The proof of God’s desire that we know him through loving union is Jesus Christ, at once both fully God and fully human. If God had no desire that we share in his life, he would not have shared in ours. Through our union with Christ, as members of the Mystical Body of which St. Paul speaks so eloquently, we share in the life of Christ, and, through Christ, we share in the life of God. And through sharing in that life, we can hope someday to know God, not merely know about God. As Christ and the Father are One, so the more we are conformed to Christ, the more we also become one with the Father. Though we always remain created beings, we are drawn by God’s grace and power into a relationship with God that would be impossible without Christ. Christ is both the promise and the means that God provides to prove to us that we can come to know God directly. But how is this happy goal to be achieved?
What does it mean to know something? In one sense, to know something is to be able to describe it so that others will also know it. In this sense, I can teach others what I know. In the case of some object, if I know the object, I will recognize it when I encounter it. The abilities to describe and to recognize, to know in the sense just outlined, are mental or intellectual abilities. They are powers of the natural mind.
When we refer to the “knowledge of God,” we are not referring to knowledge in an intellectual sense, as something of which our natural minds are capable. God, in God’s infinite and uncreated Being, totally surpasses the natural mental abilities of even the most intelligent human being who has ever lived.
No writer can describe God in words. No artist can draw a picture of God. God cannot be contained within the finite boundaries of our imaginations or reason. This is not to say that we cannot talk about God with some degree of accuracy. After all, Jesus himself taught about God in an authoritative way. Rather, anything we say about God in whatever natural medium we use is necessarily incomplete, and, to some extent, misleading. Jesus also said, “Whoever sees me sees the Father.” It is through Jesus that we can come to see God since Jesus is both created and uncreated being, both human and divine. When we truly see Jesus, we will see God.
I am not suggesting that there is no value to good theology or good preaching since we cannot, in this life, “look into the face of God and live.” We do what we can do with the resources available to us. We must, however, also be wary of mistaking our images of God for God, or what we say about God as adequately describing God. God is, and must always remain, the Ultimate Mystery.
Knowledge through experience
There is also a sense of knowing that relates to experience. To experience something is to come to know that thing. But I can know something intellectually without ever experiencing it. I can talk intellectually about human love, but this is markedly different from actually experiencing human love. Once I have experienced human love, I will recognize that my intellectual knowledge was woefully inadequate. If someone who has experienced deep human love is asked to describe that love, he or she may well reply, “If you have to ask, you would not understand.”
Our most profound human relationships are often indescribable. They take place at some deep level of our being and are so personal that no one but ourselves can truly know them.
Suppose I ask myself the question, “What does it mean to know my wife?” I could, of course, think of characteristics that would enable anyone who encounters my wife to recognize her, but this trivializes something that ought not to be trivialized. My relationship with my wife is both profound and unique. There is a union of lives. There is the love we exchange and the experiences we share. My wife, like any human being, is extraordinarily complex, someone about whom I am always learning new things. I experience my wife on a daily basis in ways that define and modify our relationship. To try to convey what it means to know my wife is an impossible and inherently frustrating task. My rambling about my wife would bore others, not enlighten them, and would not, in any case, adequately describe what it means to know my wife in the sense that I know and love her.
So it is with the knowledge of God, but infinitely more so. To know God, we must experience God as God is. We must somehow live into the “mind” of God to understand God as God understands himself. We must be so attuned to God that we can comprehend God as God comprehends us. Such knowledge cannot come about through our intellects or through any capacity that comes from human nature alone. How then do we acquire such knowledge?
Since we have no power within us to come to the knowledge or experience of God, we must rely entirely on God to gift us with that knowledge. That is, the knowledge of God can come only from God.
Three questions immediately pop to mind? Why would God allow us to know himself? Will God indeed allow us to know him? What must we do to come to this knowledge of God?
The answer to the first question - why would God allow us to know him - is a mystery buried in the heart of God. God is love, and it is the nature of love to pour itself out generously. Although God is sufficient onto himself and has no need of creatures to be God, God is the very essence of love, and love must be shared. Two expressions of God’s love are creation in general and humanity in particular. Humans are beings who can know, who are self-conscious, who can recognize that there is a higher order than just the natural order. Thus prepared, humans are ready to receive the greatest proof of God’s love God has to give, the experience of himself through sharing in his own divine life. God wishes to share his life and self-knowledge with us because of the love that he has for us.
But will God give us this knowledge? After all, the direct experience of God is hardly something that we dare hope for, much less something we can demand. What proof have we that God desires to share this wonderful gift with us?
The proof of God’s desire that we know him through loving union is Jesus Christ, at once both fully God and fully human. If God had no desire that we share in his life, he would not have shared in ours. Through our union with Christ, as members of the Mystical Body of which St. Paul speaks so eloquently, we share in the life of Christ, and, through Christ, we share in the life of God. And through sharing in that life, we can hope someday to know God, not merely know about God. As Christ and the Father are One, so the more we are conformed to Christ, the more we also become one with the Father. Though we always remain created beings, we are drawn by God’s grace and power into a relationship with God that would be impossible without Christ. Christ is both the promise and the means that God provides to prove to us that we can come to know God directly. But how is this happy goal to be achieved?
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Paths to Contemplation - 5
Chapter 2 - Why Are We Here?
The purpose of life
We may approach the question of coming to know God using a question that most people ask themselves at some point in their lives: What is the purpose of life? Why am I here? An atheist might say that the is no purpose for life other than perpetuating life. We live in order to perpetutate our gene pool. That’s all there is to it. This, of course, is not an emotionally satisfying answer, nor is it the answer that a Christian.
I suspect that asking a group of 30 devout church-goers for the purpose of life would bring forth 30 different responses. But most of those responses would boil down to a small number of basic ideas:
- To go to heaven,
- To serve and glorify God,
- To do good and avoid sin,
- To love God with all our hearts and souls,
to mention a few possibilities. But most Christians will not answer that their goal is the knowledge of God, to know God as God knows us, to see God face to face.
There is certainly nothing wrong with wanting to go to heaven, or to serve and glorify God, or to do good and avoid sin, or to love God. We have been commanded to love God with all our hearts and souls and minds and strength. But these responses are incomplete. They take us part of the way toward our goal, but they do not say what the ultimate goal is.
For many, going to heaven is not going to hell. Heaven is place of happiness and hell is a place of pain. And anyone is his or her right mind would choose happiness over pain. But why is heaven a place of happiness and hell a place of pain? It could not be just because heaven is full of earthly riches and pleasures. Heaven is for eternity and, as noted in Chapter 1, we would soon tire of streets of gold and grand palaces and chats with the great figures of the Bible if that were all there is to heaven.
The only thing that can fill us with happiness and joy for all eternity is the intimate knowledge of God, to experience God directly, to be able to look into God’s face, as it were, and see God as clearly as God sees us. This knowledge of God is the only thing that makes heaven heaven. Without the knowledge of God, every earthly pleasure would ultimately grow stale, and we would realize we were in hell, not heaven. For it is the absence of God, the inability to know God, that constitutes the ultimate horror of hell.
Likewise to serve God, or to do good and avoid sin, are not ends in themselves. They are means by which we cooperate with God, by God’s grace, to remove obstacles to our union with God, for it is through growing into the life of God that we come to know God.
The purpose of life
We may approach the question of coming to know God using a question that most people ask themselves at some point in their lives: What is the purpose of life? Why am I here? An atheist might say that the is no purpose for life other than perpetuating life. We live in order to perpetutate our gene pool. That’s all there is to it. This, of course, is not an emotionally satisfying answer, nor is it the answer that a Christian.
I suspect that asking a group of 30 devout church-goers for the purpose of life would bring forth 30 different responses. But most of those responses would boil down to a small number of basic ideas:
- To go to heaven,
- To serve and glorify God,
- To do good and avoid sin,
- To love God with all our hearts and souls,
to mention a few possibilities. But most Christians will not answer that their goal is the knowledge of God, to know God as God knows us, to see God face to face.
There is certainly nothing wrong with wanting to go to heaven, or to serve and glorify God, or to do good and avoid sin, or to love God. We have been commanded to love God with all our hearts and souls and minds and strength. But these responses are incomplete. They take us part of the way toward our goal, but they do not say what the ultimate goal is.
For many, going to heaven is not going to hell. Heaven is place of happiness and hell is a place of pain. And anyone is his or her right mind would choose happiness over pain. But why is heaven a place of happiness and hell a place of pain? It could not be just because heaven is full of earthly riches and pleasures. Heaven is for eternity and, as noted in Chapter 1, we would soon tire of streets of gold and grand palaces and chats with the great figures of the Bible if that were all there is to heaven.
The only thing that can fill us with happiness and joy for all eternity is the intimate knowledge of God, to experience God directly, to be able to look into God’s face, as it were, and see God as clearly as God sees us. This knowledge of God is the only thing that makes heaven heaven. Without the knowledge of God, every earthly pleasure would ultimately grow stale, and we would realize we were in hell, not heaven. For it is the absence of God, the inability to know God, that constitutes the ultimate horror of hell.
Likewise to serve God, or to do good and avoid sin, are not ends in themselves. They are means by which we cooperate with God, by God’s grace, to remove obstacles to our union with God, for it is through growing into the life of God that we come to know God.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Paths to Contemplation - 4
God’s invitation to come to know him in eternity
If we cannot know God through our mind, emotions or senses, what are we to do? If our hearts yearn for this unknown and unknowable God, and no images we can create ourselves can satisfy us, what are we to do?
If only God’s intervention can allow us to know God directly, then the crucial question is whether God will intervene to give us this knowledge, and, if so, under what circumstances? For example, are there exercises we can practice that will bring about God’s intervention? Must we have a particular state of mind or soul before God will intervene? Does God even want humans to come to know him, and, even if God does want humans to know him, can this knowledge be found while we are still living on earth?
For Christians, the answer is clear. Scripture, tradition and the experience of mystics testify through the ages that God has chosen to allow humans to “see” him as he is. There are instances even in the Old Testament when God allows at least certain individuals a glimpse of himself. In this regard, there is Moses on Sinai as well as the experience of Elijah recounted in 1 Kings Chapter 19. The glory of God filled the temple at its dedication (1 Kings Chapter 8) and was apparent in visions like those of Isaiah (Isaiah Chapter 6). But it is in the New Testament that God’s invitation to come to union with himself in love, and through that union to know him, is made clear in, through and by Jesus Christ, who is both fully God and fully human.
Jesus’ divine glory was partially revealed to three terrified disciples at the Transfiguration. So important was this event considered to be in the early Church that it is recorded in all three synoptic Gospels and is mentioned by Peter, an eye witness, in 2 Peter Chapter 1.
It is in 1 Corinthians chapter 13, however, that we read one of the clearest descriptions of the destiny to which Christians are called: “Now we are seeing a dim reflection in a mirror; but then we shall be seeing face to face. The knowledge that I have now is imperfect; but then I shall know as fully as I am known.”(Jerusalem Bible translation) And how is this face to face vision of God to come about? The sight of God is the fulfillment of love. Of faith, hope and love, it will be love that we carry into eternity.
Faith concerns what is not yet seen or possessed. It is a firm trust that God is faithful, a confidence in God’s present activity in our lives, even when we do not sense God close at hand or feel God’s power working in us. Hope looks to the future. It is the belief that God will be true to his promises and grant us the Kingdom through Jesus Christ. When we see God face to face, we will have no need of either faith or hope. Then it is only through absolute love of God, that we will be able to look into the face of God without pain.
Perhaps we think of heaven as a place that is filled with every earthly pleasure. What would such a paradise include? Perhaps championship golf courses, or magnificent sunsets on demand, or the ability to wish for meals exquisitely prepared but without the calories and having to clean up afterwards. Whatever we can imagine, whatever pastimes or gastronomical joys we build into heaven, they will not, they cannot, satisfy us for eternity. Only the knowledge of an infinite God into which we continue to grow forever will satisfy us. Our hearts were made for God, as Augustine said. They were not made primarily for sensory or sensual enjoyment.
Sensual and sensory enjoyment is not necessarily sinful. It is can be source of enormous legitimate pleasure, as ought to be found in sexual intercourse between a husband and wife who love one another dearly. Food was given to enjoy as well as to sustain life. Sunsets are beautiful to look at. But our bodies have been given to us first and foremost to enable us to learn what God wants us to learn that we might come to God in love. It is only in God that we can find our fulfillment as human beings.
What if we had to live on earth for two hundred years? I suspect we would all get tired of life well before we died, even assuming we could maintain good health until almost the time of our deaths. If heaven were merely an extension of earth without the aches and pains and obligations of our present life, then we would soon get tired of life in heaven as well. After we have played golf for a thousand years, what would joy golf hold for us? After we have sampled every delicacy that can delight our palates, what joy would eating hold for us? After we had mastered every branch of science and read every book that had been written, what would we do then? But if we can look into the face of God and know God as God knows us, love with the love of God, know with the mind of God, what does anything else matter?
We might also ask: If we come to know God after death, can we come to know God while we are yet alive? We have already seen that we cannot know God except by the power of God, but does God only give us that knowledge after we have died?
There are many who believe that once one has been “saved,” by whatever act or statement brings about salvation, there is nothing more to do than to wait to collect the reward the saved are assured of when they die. Some would agree that one should lead a “good life” once one is saved, but they would also say that because no one can earn salvation through works(or lose it through bad ones), at most good works are signs that someone is saved, and not a means of salvation in themselves.
The immediate effect of being saved is to have personal guilt due to sin completely removed and the punishment remitted that one might have otherwise had to suffer because of sin. Although the punishment to be imposed because of sin is often graphically described in terms of fiery torment, the “eternal reward” that one gains from salvation is usually left rather vague. Often it is simply earthly pleasures pumped up to a higher degree, just as God is often described in pumped up human terms. If a human is good, God is all-good. If a human is just, God is all-just. You get the pattern. Thus, if playing golf on earth is fun, playing golf in heaven is all-fun.
But, as noted earlier, playing golf is not what humans long for. They long to know God, even though they cannot describe this God. Heaven cannot be heaven without imparting a direct vision of God.
If we cannot know God through our mind, emotions or senses, what are we to do? If our hearts yearn for this unknown and unknowable God, and no images we can create ourselves can satisfy us, what are we to do?
If only God’s intervention can allow us to know God directly, then the crucial question is whether God will intervene to give us this knowledge, and, if so, under what circumstances? For example, are there exercises we can practice that will bring about God’s intervention? Must we have a particular state of mind or soul before God will intervene? Does God even want humans to come to know him, and, even if God does want humans to know him, can this knowledge be found while we are still living on earth?
For Christians, the answer is clear. Scripture, tradition and the experience of mystics testify through the ages that God has chosen to allow humans to “see” him as he is. There are instances even in the Old Testament when God allows at least certain individuals a glimpse of himself. In this regard, there is Moses on Sinai as well as the experience of Elijah recounted in 1 Kings Chapter 19. The glory of God filled the temple at its dedication (1 Kings Chapter 8) and was apparent in visions like those of Isaiah (Isaiah Chapter 6). But it is in the New Testament that God’s invitation to come to union with himself in love, and through that union to know him, is made clear in, through and by Jesus Christ, who is both fully God and fully human.
Jesus’ divine glory was partially revealed to three terrified disciples at the Transfiguration. So important was this event considered to be in the early Church that it is recorded in all three synoptic Gospels and is mentioned by Peter, an eye witness, in 2 Peter Chapter 1.
It is in 1 Corinthians chapter 13, however, that we read one of the clearest descriptions of the destiny to which Christians are called: “Now we are seeing a dim reflection in a mirror; but then we shall be seeing face to face. The knowledge that I have now is imperfect; but then I shall know as fully as I am known.”(Jerusalem Bible translation) And how is this face to face vision of God to come about? The sight of God is the fulfillment of love. Of faith, hope and love, it will be love that we carry into eternity.
Faith concerns what is not yet seen or possessed. It is a firm trust that God is faithful, a confidence in God’s present activity in our lives, even when we do not sense God close at hand or feel God’s power working in us. Hope looks to the future. It is the belief that God will be true to his promises and grant us the Kingdom through Jesus Christ. When we see God face to face, we will have no need of either faith or hope. Then it is only through absolute love of God, that we will be able to look into the face of God without pain.
Perhaps we think of heaven as a place that is filled with every earthly pleasure. What would such a paradise include? Perhaps championship golf courses, or magnificent sunsets on demand, or the ability to wish for meals exquisitely prepared but without the calories and having to clean up afterwards. Whatever we can imagine, whatever pastimes or gastronomical joys we build into heaven, they will not, they cannot, satisfy us for eternity. Only the knowledge of an infinite God into which we continue to grow forever will satisfy us. Our hearts were made for God, as Augustine said. They were not made primarily for sensory or sensual enjoyment.
Sensual and sensory enjoyment is not necessarily sinful. It is can be source of enormous legitimate pleasure, as ought to be found in sexual intercourse between a husband and wife who love one another dearly. Food was given to enjoy as well as to sustain life. Sunsets are beautiful to look at. But our bodies have been given to us first and foremost to enable us to learn what God wants us to learn that we might come to God in love. It is only in God that we can find our fulfillment as human beings.
What if we had to live on earth for two hundred years? I suspect we would all get tired of life well before we died, even assuming we could maintain good health until almost the time of our deaths. If heaven were merely an extension of earth without the aches and pains and obligations of our present life, then we would soon get tired of life in heaven as well. After we have played golf for a thousand years, what would joy golf hold for us? After we have sampled every delicacy that can delight our palates, what joy would eating hold for us? After we had mastered every branch of science and read every book that had been written, what would we do then? But if we can look into the face of God and know God as God knows us, love with the love of God, know with the mind of God, what does anything else matter?
We might also ask: If we come to know God after death, can we come to know God while we are yet alive? We have already seen that we cannot know God except by the power of God, but does God only give us that knowledge after we have died?
There are many who believe that once one has been “saved,” by whatever act or statement brings about salvation, there is nothing more to do than to wait to collect the reward the saved are assured of when they die. Some would agree that one should lead a “good life” once one is saved, but they would also say that because no one can earn salvation through works(or lose it through bad ones), at most good works are signs that someone is saved, and not a means of salvation in themselves.
The immediate effect of being saved is to have personal guilt due to sin completely removed and the punishment remitted that one might have otherwise had to suffer because of sin. Although the punishment to be imposed because of sin is often graphically described in terms of fiery torment, the “eternal reward” that one gains from salvation is usually left rather vague. Often it is simply earthly pleasures pumped up to a higher degree, just as God is often described in pumped up human terms. If a human is good, God is all-good. If a human is just, God is all-just. You get the pattern. Thus, if playing golf on earth is fun, playing golf in heaven is all-fun.
But, as noted earlier, playing golf is not what humans long for. They long to know God, even though they cannot describe this God. Heaven cannot be heaven without imparting a direct vision of God.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Paths to Contemplation - 3
A God of our own creation
We might believe that we have progressed beyond the primitive religious impulses of those Israelites, but such is generally not the case. God remains as indescribable, as awesome, as mysterious as he was to Moses and the Israelites. All we can honestly say about God is the same thing that God told Moses when Moses asked God to describe himself: God is God.
But most of us are not satisfied with an indescribable, mysterious God. We much prefer a God who is accessible, a God whom we can approach and to whom we can talk, and, preferably, a God whom we can see and touch and understand, a God who is a good friend and companion in time of need. Mark Twain once said that God created man in his image, and, ever since, man has been returning the compliment. Not only do we want a God who can be embraced within the confines of our minds as well as described in familiar terms, but we are most comfortable with a God who is like us, who thinks as we do, who behaves as we would like God to behave. Each person, to a greater or lesser extent, creates God in his or her own image.
If I believe the wicked should be punished when they die, “my God” will be a just and often vengeful God, taking retribution on those who I believe deserve it and sparing those – like myself, of course – who have the special key to God’s mercy. If I believe that God is beautiful, I will conjure up a beautiful image of God. If my God must be good, I will make my image of God good. But the justice to which my God adheres will be my idea of justice. The beauty of my God will be shaped by my idea of what is beautiful, and the goodness of my God will depend on what I believe is good.
This is not to say that God is not just, or beautiful, or good. Rather, when we ascribe characteristics to God, we are limiting God because our own description of these characteristics is limited. If we knew God, we would know justice. If we knew God, we would know beauty and goodness, but we do not know God by imposing our own ideas of justice, beauty and goodness on God.
We are accustomed to hearing that God is love, and most people will interpret this to mean that God is loving, or that God loves us. But at least one theologian wrote that this means that God is the definition of love, the essential nature of love. God and love are identical. We cannot truly know what love is until we know God, and when we know God we will know love.
Thus, we seem caught in a vicious circle. We want to know God, but whatever image we construct of God cannot be God, and may even lead us away from any chance to know God as God is. Are we then to be frustrated in our desire to know God, or must we wait until the hereafter to glimpse at last the face of the hitherto unknown Diety?
We might believe that we have progressed beyond the primitive religious impulses of those Israelites, but such is generally not the case. God remains as indescribable, as awesome, as mysterious as he was to Moses and the Israelites. All we can honestly say about God is the same thing that God told Moses when Moses asked God to describe himself: God is God.
But most of us are not satisfied with an indescribable, mysterious God. We much prefer a God who is accessible, a God whom we can approach and to whom we can talk, and, preferably, a God whom we can see and touch and understand, a God who is a good friend and companion in time of need. Mark Twain once said that God created man in his image, and, ever since, man has been returning the compliment. Not only do we want a God who can be embraced within the confines of our minds as well as described in familiar terms, but we are most comfortable with a God who is like us, who thinks as we do, who behaves as we would like God to behave. Each person, to a greater or lesser extent, creates God in his or her own image.
If I believe the wicked should be punished when they die, “my God” will be a just and often vengeful God, taking retribution on those who I believe deserve it and sparing those – like myself, of course – who have the special key to God’s mercy. If I believe that God is beautiful, I will conjure up a beautiful image of God. If my God must be good, I will make my image of God good. But the justice to which my God adheres will be my idea of justice. The beauty of my God will be shaped by my idea of what is beautiful, and the goodness of my God will depend on what I believe is good.
This is not to say that God is not just, or beautiful, or good. Rather, when we ascribe characteristics to God, we are limiting God because our own description of these characteristics is limited. If we knew God, we would know justice. If we knew God, we would know beauty and goodness, but we do not know God by imposing our own ideas of justice, beauty and goodness on God.
We are accustomed to hearing that God is love, and most people will interpret this to mean that God is loving, or that God loves us. But at least one theologian wrote that this means that God is the definition of love, the essential nature of love. God and love are identical. We cannot truly know what love is until we know God, and when we know God we will know love.
Thus, we seem caught in a vicious circle. We want to know God, but whatever image we construct of God cannot be God, and may even lead us away from any chance to know God as God is. Are we then to be frustrated in our desire to know God, or must we wait until the hereafter to glimpse at last the face of the hitherto unknown Diety?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Paths to Contemplation - 2
The God of the Old Testament
The Old Testament begins with accounts that expressly mention or imply only one God. There is the Spirit that moves over the waters in Creation, not the spirits. One God creates Adam and Eve. This same God is the God whom they disobey and who expels them from the Garden of Eden. One God punishes Cain for murdering his brother Abel. One God deals with Noah and is responsible for the flood described in Genesis Chapters 6 through 9. One God deals with those building the Tower of Babel described in Genesis Chapter 11. In other words, the Old Testament from the time of the Creation assumes that there is only one God. But it is not until Abraham, or Abram as he is first introduced to us in Genesis Chapter 12, that God’s relationship with humanity, and humanity’s understanding of God, begins to change radically.
We are told that God called Abram to leave his hometown and family and go to a place that God would show him. What is somewhat remarkable is that Abram’s family was polytheistic and remained so long after Abram left his ancestral home at (the one) God’s command. That they were polytheistic is shown in Genesis Chapter 31 in which we are informed that Rachel stole the household gods from Laban, her father, when she departed with her husband Jacob. “Now it may be that you had a longing for your father’s House,” says Laban, “but why did you steal my gods?” Rachel probably stole the gods because she wanted their help and protection. The road to monotheism is not one without many potholes and detours.
One should also note that just as the polytheists thought of their gods as being personal gods, the descendants of Abraham also had this attitude. God was not the universal God of heaven and earth, but a God whom one could adopt or reject depending on whether or not God showed himself able to take care of those who made him “their God.”
Consider Jacob on his way to Abraham’s ancestral homeland to seek a wife(Genesis Chapter 28). Jacob makes this vow, “If God goes with me and keeps me safe on this journey I am making, and if he gives me bread to eat and cloths to wear, and if I return home safely to my father, then Yahweh will be my God. This stone I have set up as a monument shall be a house of God, and I will surely pay you a tenth part of all you give me.”(Jerusalem Bible translation) Thus, Jacob bargains, if this God shows he can take care of him, then he will make this God his God. Presumably, if God had not taken good care of Jacob, Jacob would then has sought another god who was better up to the task.
God himself, when he calls to Moses from the burning bush(Exodus Chapter 3) does not identify himself as the God of all Creation, but, rather, as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Moreover, God refers to the Israelites as “my people.” There is a close, possessive relationship between God and those whose God he is. God ordered a reluctant Moses to go to Egypt to free God’s people from slavery.
Moses wanted God to describe himself. “What should I say when they ask me who sent me,” Moses asked God. God would not give Moses a description because no description God could give would be adequate. “ I am who I am,” God answered. God basically said, God is God and that’s all you can say about me. No doubt this did not please Moses who was not enthusiastic about this mandate from God to begin with, but Moses went anyway. Gods were common in those days, and they were associated with nations and even individuals. So when Moses informed Pharaoh that his, that is, Moses’, God had sent him, Pharaoh understood what Moses was saying even though God was left undefined. Pharaoh, however, thought his gods were stronger than Moses’ God, and had to be convinced by a series of disasters that his gods could not protect him against Moses’ God. Then he let the Jews go to follow Moses into the desert.
While Moses on Mount Sinai talking to God, the Hebrews were looking up at the wild thunder clouds which Moses had entered, and they were frightened. Moses had led them from a land they knew into a wilderness they did not know. Miracles were needed to keep them fed and to provide an adequate supply of water. At one point, after Moses had been missing for a long time, the people felt they had had enough of this God they could not see, and who was literally unapproachable under pain of death. They wanted a visible god to whom they could pray, an approachable god, a god in whom they could place their confidence, a more familiar god like the ones they knew in Egypt. So Aaron, Moses’ right hand man, made the people a golden calf, proclaiming that this was the god that brought them out of Egypt.
This return to idolatry even in the very presence of God on Mount Sinai teaches us several things: First, the Israelites Moses led out of Egypt were more familiar with idolatry and polytheism than with monotheism. They would not have asked for an idol if they were not already familiar with idols and had worshiped them in Egypt. Second, in times of stress humans are more comforted by a god they can see and “understand” than by an abstract and mysterious God. The Israelites were not evil to want the golden calf. They were frightened and needed something they understand that might furnish them with at least a sense that they were being cared for and protected. So they turned to that with which they were already familiar rather than to the strange, inaccessible God who talked only with Moses.
The Old Testament begins with accounts that expressly mention or imply only one God. There is the Spirit that moves over the waters in Creation, not the spirits. One God creates Adam and Eve. This same God is the God whom they disobey and who expels them from the Garden of Eden. One God punishes Cain for murdering his brother Abel. One God deals with Noah and is responsible for the flood described in Genesis Chapters 6 through 9. One God deals with those building the Tower of Babel described in Genesis Chapter 11. In other words, the Old Testament from the time of the Creation assumes that there is only one God. But it is not until Abraham, or Abram as he is first introduced to us in Genesis Chapter 12, that God’s relationship with humanity, and humanity’s understanding of God, begins to change radically.
We are told that God called Abram to leave his hometown and family and go to a place that God would show him. What is somewhat remarkable is that Abram’s family was polytheistic and remained so long after Abram left his ancestral home at (the one) God’s command. That they were polytheistic is shown in Genesis Chapter 31 in which we are informed that Rachel stole the household gods from Laban, her father, when she departed with her husband Jacob. “Now it may be that you had a longing for your father’s House,” says Laban, “but why did you steal my gods?” Rachel probably stole the gods because she wanted their help and protection. The road to monotheism is not one without many potholes and detours.
One should also note that just as the polytheists thought of their gods as being personal gods, the descendants of Abraham also had this attitude. God was not the universal God of heaven and earth, but a God whom one could adopt or reject depending on whether or not God showed himself able to take care of those who made him “their God.”
Consider Jacob on his way to Abraham’s ancestral homeland to seek a wife(Genesis Chapter 28). Jacob makes this vow, “If God goes with me and keeps me safe on this journey I am making, and if he gives me bread to eat and cloths to wear, and if I return home safely to my father, then Yahweh will be my God. This stone I have set up as a monument shall be a house of God, and I will surely pay you a tenth part of all you give me.”(Jerusalem Bible translation) Thus, Jacob bargains, if this God shows he can take care of him, then he will make this God his God. Presumably, if God had not taken good care of Jacob, Jacob would then has sought another god who was better up to the task.
God himself, when he calls to Moses from the burning bush(Exodus Chapter 3) does not identify himself as the God of all Creation, but, rather, as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Moreover, God refers to the Israelites as “my people.” There is a close, possessive relationship between God and those whose God he is. God ordered a reluctant Moses to go to Egypt to free God’s people from slavery.
Moses wanted God to describe himself. “What should I say when they ask me who sent me,” Moses asked God. God would not give Moses a description because no description God could give would be adequate. “ I am who I am,” God answered. God basically said, God is God and that’s all you can say about me. No doubt this did not please Moses who was not enthusiastic about this mandate from God to begin with, but Moses went anyway. Gods were common in those days, and they were associated with nations and even individuals. So when Moses informed Pharaoh that his, that is, Moses’, God had sent him, Pharaoh understood what Moses was saying even though God was left undefined. Pharaoh, however, thought his gods were stronger than Moses’ God, and had to be convinced by a series of disasters that his gods could not protect him against Moses’ God. Then he let the Jews go to follow Moses into the desert.
While Moses on Mount Sinai talking to God, the Hebrews were looking up at the wild thunder clouds which Moses had entered, and they were frightened. Moses had led them from a land they knew into a wilderness they did not know. Miracles were needed to keep them fed and to provide an adequate supply of water. At one point, after Moses had been missing for a long time, the people felt they had had enough of this God they could not see, and who was literally unapproachable under pain of death. They wanted a visible god to whom they could pray, an approachable god, a god in whom they could place their confidence, a more familiar god like the ones they knew in Egypt. So Aaron, Moses’ right hand man, made the people a golden calf, proclaiming that this was the god that brought them out of Egypt.
This return to idolatry even in the very presence of God on Mount Sinai teaches us several things: First, the Israelites Moses led out of Egypt were more familiar with idolatry and polytheism than with monotheism. They would not have asked for an idol if they were not already familiar with idols and had worshiped them in Egypt. Second, in times of stress humans are more comforted by a god they can see and “understand” than by an abstract and mysterious God. The Israelites were not evil to want the golden calf. They were frightened and needed something they understand that might furnish them with at least a sense that they were being cared for and protected. So they turned to that with which they were already familiar rather than to the strange, inaccessible God who talked only with Moses.
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