Where the Miracles Are

Can I really trust God? I mean REALLY?

The thought runs through my head, but the words keep changing. “Well, that’s not realistic.”  “Nobody can forgive that.” “No point in trying that again.” “That’s how things always turn out.”

What if, instead, it’s the thoughts themselves that block blessing? What if our smart little busy brains are churning out all sorts of roadblocks to God’s deep will—which is kindness, love and joy?

I do not know what is the best outcome in anything. I never know what SHOULD happen. That’s it— That’s all my wisdom. But it’s a lot, because it means I am not second-guessing God. All my clever plans, all my hard-won life experience and cynicism and sorrow, all of it is just thought-trash. Junk. Messy little packages of worry and doubt from my busy brain.

Instead, I can smile, bless my thoughts and let them go. I can say, “That’s just a thought. I don’t know what was or what will be. I do not know what should be.”  

The great Christian scholar Rev. Richard Rohr says this:  

Whenever I think there’s a perfect pattern, further reading and study reveal an exception. Whenever I want to say “only” or “always,” someone or something proves me wrong. My scientist friends have come up with things like “principles of uncertainty” and dark holes. They’re willing to live inside imagined hypotheses and theories. But many religious folks insist on answers that are always true. We love closure, resolution and, clarity, while thinking that we are people of “faith”! How strange that the very word “faith” has come to mean its exact opposite.

People who have really met the Holy are always humble. It’s the people who don’t know who usually pretend that they do. People who’ve had any genuine spiritual experience always know they don’t know. They are utterly humbled before mystery. They are in awe before the abyss of it all, in wonder at eternity and depth, and a Love, which is incomprehensible to the mind. It is a litmus test for authentic God experience, and is — quite sadly — absent from much of our religious conversation today. My belief and comfort is in the depths of Mystery, which should be the very task of religion.  Click here for Rohr’s discussion.

I meditate because I want to relax into the profound reality that is NOT thought. Trusting God means transformation—Not a new version of my busy brain’s plans, not what everybody thinks would be best, given the situation.

God dances to music more exquisite than anything I can imagine. God offers joy so new that I gasp and weep. It’s an opening that rips through what I think is real. Light pours in and drenches us all.

The key is saying “I don’t know.” I have to surrender to God, let myself fall into God and trust the Divine Emptiness—because when I lift away all my little plans and thoughts, all existence opens to God’s possibilities.

And that’s the miracle.

 

 

When the Minister Is a Drunk

The minister betrayed his wife. The scripture misled us. The congregation turned against some members. Again and again we yearn for spiritual elders we can trust.

I am a child of God who hungers to come home. The human lapses—corrupt priests, cruel beliefs, poorly translated scriptures—might smash my belief like cartoon villains with big hammers.

How do I sort it out? I’m no expert. The strict voice from my childhood whispers, “Who do you think you are? Others have studied this more than you. How could you question the scriptures? This church or temple or faith has stood the test of time. Who are you to question? You cannot know anything on your own.”

It is this authoritarian voice that we must face down inside our own heads. Because we feel incompetent to experience God on our own, we grasp at any authority figure to make our choices. But the whole point of God’s universal nature—all is the Divine, God is in every heart, every speck of existence is God—is that God is in us and with us as part of our consciousness itself.

Spiritual authority is really big deal. People have been burned at the stake over this. For more than 1000 years, most faiths taught that none of us can know the divine directly. All of us, they say, need some kind of spiritual authority to teach us.

We complain that a spiritual leader is corrupt. The worried voice in our heads answers that the leader knows more than we do. We complain that power-hungry bishops changed the core meaning of scripture. The worried voice answers that they knew what was best for us, even if they made compromises. We complain that a belief cannot be from God because it is so cruel. The voice answers that we are too puny to question traditional belief and that sometimes God’s purification is necessary.

A well-known Christian leader, Rev. Richard Rohr, argues that we must always stand ready to use our own experience of God, our own experience of goodness itself, to question tradition. In his book on scripture [Yes, And…], Rohr says, “If you are meditating on a Bible text, Hebrew or Christian, and if you see God operating at a lesser level than the best person you know, then that text is not an authentic revelation. ‘God is love’ (1 John 4:16), and no person you meet could possibly be more loving than the Source of love itself. It is as simple as that.  You now have a foundational hermeneutic (interpretive key) for interpreting all of Scripture wisely.” (page 75)

For thousands of years, two other spiritual traditions—Buddhism and Gnosticism—have taught the same thing.

Here’s what Buddha said: “Believe nothing just because a so-called wise person said it. Believe nothing just because a belief is generally held. Believe nothing just because it is said in ancient books. Believe nothing just because it is said to be of divine origin. Believe nothing just because someone else believes it. Believe only what you yourself test and experience to be true.”

Another important tradition, Gnosticism, is a belief “that direct, personal and absolute knowledge of the authentic truths of existence is accessible to human beings, and, moreover, that the attainment of such knowledge must always constitute the supreme achievement of human life.” (Click here for source)  In fact there are some who say that Jesus was a Gnostic. (Click here for source.)

All this means that I give myself permission to be the knower. I do not need approval from a superior. I meditate and listen to whatever direct knowledge comes. I know that my intention is pure. I trust myself and I trust God speaking in my heart.

In many faiths, this idea is dangerous. Many faith organizations control people’s beliefs via spiritual authorities such as ministers, gurus, priests or scriptures. It happens all over the world—in Hinduism, Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, for example.

Certainly not all ministers or priests mislead us or are too small for the job. But when they do, how do we respond?

As children, most of us were taught that even a smart, good person needs teaching from someone who knows better.

It’s actually a trick question. When we yield to a spiritual authority—any authority—what’s really happening is we are giving away responsibility for our spiritual truth and learning to someone else. But we do it because it’s traditional and because it seems easy.

The fatal flaw is that no other person and no piece of writing can carry the weight of our individual spiritual knowing.

Here are six steps to trusting our own spiritual authority:

  1. We seek knowing in our own hearts. We take responsibility for who we are at the very deepest level. Being a true child of the universe means taking 100 percent of the responsibility for what we believe.
  2. We can still refer to a faith tradition, if it helps us. Every faith has meditation and prayer practices for self-knowing. That’s why this website exists—to help Christians learn the ancient practice of meditation.
  3. We can learn more about listening inward. We can meditate and pray more. God speaks in that silence.
  4. If we want to study scripture, we can study the earliest, most original versions available. For example, Christians can look at the Nag Hammadi versions of the gospel. We can study what changes were made in early versions.
  5. We can still talk to our spiritual leader, if we trust him or her. But to be fair, we must always remember that he or she is only another person like us, just another ordinary person, not someone to carry the responsibility instead of us. Even if the leader has studied 50 years, we are the final knowers of what feels true in our deepest hearts.
  6. Finally, we also need to be cautious of cynics who say, “If you’re intelligent, you don’t need religion” or “I don’t need to believe in anything. My thoughts are all just biochemical reactions anyway.” Their experience doesn’t matter because we are the only ones who know what our hearts tell us.

The only authority we can completely trust is the pure, quiet voice inside.

So then when the minister hires a prostitute, what does it really matter? If the scripture’s meaning changes, so what? We can learn. We can study a new meaning.

All of us are children of the universe. All of us are love happening.

I stand firm in my own knowledge of the divine. I hear the whispers in my heart, and I trust the universe to teach me perfectly. There is nothing better than that and there is nothing more than that.

This is where I rest in God. This is where I am whole.

 

[an earlier version of this post was published on http://www.Elephant Journal.com]