From Inner Core to Looking Out and Back

That undeniable level of experience, which we often tag with the word "emotional" - depriving it at some other level of seriousness - is, I think, the level on which our faith is truly constructed. Typically the emotions that propel us toward's that deepest reality - God - are the following:

Awe: being overwhelmed by the beauty and order of nature - the stars at night, the rising and setting sun, the landscapes we see every day, the stunning variety of life forms, and our capacity to ponder it all.

Cries for help: trying to cope with the heart-wrenching tragedies that life brings, the neediness we have for help in finding a way forward, the need for a touch of love much deeper and more constant that the love anyone simply human can show us.

Thankfulness: the sense of happiness and peace we feel when critical needs are met, when love and assistance seems to flow from the well of blessings that also seem to come our way.

While these are the main experiences that open us to the "divine," there are others that had played a major role in my life: guilt was one, the guilt I had as a child for creating a world of lies when I was about 8 years old that made it impossible for me to invite friends into my life. I did not "confess" these lies to those who had heard them from my lips, but when given a new opportunity to start things over in a new place, I made a promise to an inner presence I called God, what I would now call a "covenant," to live life differently, to live it based on telling the truth.

But while these deep impulses, "motions," or "commitments" are foundational for all of us, we tend to minimize their centrality in how we shape our lives and turn either to an established set of explanations that the people around us use to articulate "truths" - usually the religious or ideological "landscape" we happen to grow up in, or, if we're not rooted in any particular tradition, to more intellectual, word-based, idea-based grounds for discussing who we are, what we believe and what Truth is, the philosophical notions we become introduced to as we go through school.

As a person who was not really born into a religious family and did not spend early childhood going to church or synagogue or mosque, I still knew even when I was ten, that a lot of people built their beliefs on a book called the Bible. I remember at that age having a conversation with a friend about what book we'd take with us onto an island if we could only have one thing to read for the rest of our lives.  I chose the Bible, and I explained why - because it probably had been important to more people throughout history than any other book. I think it was shortly after this that my grandfather took me to a Macy's store at the Cross-County Shopping Center and got me a beautiful King James Version of the Bible. And because my grandmother had died a little while before this - an event that caused an aunt of mine to step in, have me baptized into the Episcopal Church so I could go with her and my cousins to church and feel part of it - I started reading that book. I read it from the beginning up to somewhere around the psalms and then put it down. It wasn't a "sacred" book to me; it was just a book. I didn't realize at the time how important it would become to me.

Daily Bible Reading: Wisdom 12 and 1 Peter 3

Wisdom 12 – “Little by little, therefore, you correct those who offend, you admonish and remind them of how they have sinned, so that they may abstain from evil and trust in you, Lord” (12:1-2).

The author explains that God made way for the Jews in the holy land of Canaan because the ancient people there practiced loathsome rites of child sacrifice. Yet God “treated them [the Canaanites] leniently . . . [giving] them a chance to repent” (12:9).

The theme seems to be that while God intended to supplant the Canaanites so that his people could be established in their Promised Land, he treated the Canaanites with justice and patience – as an example of how all power should be exercised. Even the practices of child sacrifice and cannibalism [not proven historically according to the New Jerusalem footnote] did not bring on sudden and definitive destruction.

“You show your strength when your sovereign power is questioned and you expose the insolence of those who know it; but, disposing of such strength, you are mild in judgment, you govern us with great lenience, for you have only to will, and your power is there” (12:17-18).

By being this kind of God you teach us “how the virtuous man must be kindly to his fellow men, and you have given your sons the good hope that after sin you will grant repentance” (12:19).

1 Peter 3 – Wives are advised to submit themselves to their husbands “so that if any of them do not believe God’s word, our conduct will win them over to believe” (3:1). He also advises women not to spend time worrying about outward things like dresses or jewelry. “Instead, your beauty should consist of your true inner self, the ageless beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of the greatest value in God’s sight” (3:4). And again, he points to Sarah as an example of a woman who “obeyed” her husband and called him “master” (3:6). Husbands should treat their wives with respect.

It is understandable that many women find this kind of advice hard to listen to, and for some it undermines the respect they have for Scripture generally. Somehow it has never struck me this way. I see Scripture as embodying the culture of the age in which it was written, but it also reflects a gradual movement of God’s spirit of love into the culture and thinking of those who are trying hard to be faithful.

Members of the churches are advised above all to “love one another, and be kind and humble with one another” (3:8).

Have “reverence for Christ in your hearts, and honor him as Lord. Be ready at all times to answer anyone who asks you to explain the hope you have . . . but do it with gentleness and respect” (3:15).

If you suffer for doing what you are called to do as a Christian, you will have a clear conscience. “For Christ died for sins once and for all, a good man on behalf of sinners, in order to lead you to God. He was put to death physically, but made alive spiritually, and in his spiritual existence he went and preached to the imprisoned spirits . . . the spirit of those who had not obeyed God when he waited patiently during the days that Noah was building his boat” (3:18-20).  The writer refers to the Noah story here to note that the water of the flood was “a symbol pointing to baptism, which now saves you. It is not the washing off of bodily dirt, but the promise made to God from a good conscience” (3:21).