If there be therefore any consolation in Christ,
if any comfort of love,
if any fellowship of the Spirit,
if any bowels and mercies,
Fulfil ye my joy,
that ye be likeminded,
having the same love,
being of one accord,
of one mind.
Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory;
but in lowliness of mind
let each esteem other better than themselves.
Look not every man on his own things,
but every man also on the things of others.
Let this mind be in you,
which was also in Christ Jesus:
Who, being in the form of God,
thought it not robbery to be equal with God:
But made himself of no reputation,
and took upon him the form of a servant,
and was made in the likeness of men:
And being found in fashion as a man,
he humbled himself,
and became obedient unto death,
even the death of the cross.
- Philippians 2:1-8 (KJV)
Each first Sunday during my teenage years, I would stand near the pulpit of Metropolitan Baptist Church in my hometown of Detroit, Michigan, and recite this passage. As an altar boy (or, more correctly put, as a member of the altar boy team), this was my sacred duty. Occasionally I would reflect on the words that were so seared into my consciousness then that I can recite them even now, some four decades later. Thankfully, time has afforded me greater insights into the ageless wisdom that they both reflect and offer.
Today, as a reader at my adult home church, St. Luke's Episcopal in Montclair, New Jersey, I was asked again to recite a part of this passage, which proved difficult: so ingrained is the King James Version of my Baptist youth that it was hard for me to read the New Revised Standard Version of my adult faith. Somehow the latter seemed less magisterial, less worthy of the Word of God. And yet, if you ask me which version do I read and find more compelling now, it would be the NRSV. Something about the limitations and imperfections of the KJV, as I've come to learn its history, has left me cold to it, flowery prose appreciated nonetheless.
And that's what hit me this morning: that I was tied by history and habit to a less fulfilling version of my faith because of the florid and ornate beauty of its phrasing, but my adult faith is so much deeper and less rooted in The Word, per se. And I began to wonder if these two realities were related, the deepening of my faith and its untethering from the Bible....
It's funny, but I know the Bible much more and better in my adulthood than I did in my youth even though I studied it then, too. One of the many benefits of religious schooling - in my case both Lutheran and Catholic versions thereof - is that one is 'gifted' with biblical instruction (and which, of course, actually feels like more of a burden at the time). Now I study the Bible - and even read it occasionally - for my own edification, so I'm free of anyone else's rules about how I must do it and what I must glean from the exercise. 'Must' is the operative word here: I now feel truly free to use the Bible - and any religious/spiritual insight or experience, for that matter - as I see fit, and this has truly been a liberating experience.
Now I am free to choose how I interpret the Scriptures, both in their legitimacy and their insight ... and this has made all the difference. I still am influenced by many Biblical scholars - Bishop John Shelby Spong, the late Marcus Borg and the members of the Jesus Seminar foremost among them - but I am free to choose what resonates with me and why, what informs and elevates my faith and what is left out of/aside from it. I suspect that it's this sense of freedom that has led me on a passionate and winding spiritual journey throughout my adult life, no doubt influenced by the reality that I've found a version of the Christian faith in particular - Episcopalianism - and an appreciation for other/all religious systems in general - especially, in my case, the tenets of Buddhism and Taoism - that work for me. So journey on as an Episcopalian Follower of Jesus I do, finding inspiration in Eastern perspectives on the Ultimate Mystery as I go.
And yet I'm not totally free: there are many times when I feel the return of the youthful guilt that I was taught along with the KJV. I no longer find sexual expression sinful (at least when conducted in a truly loving way), which was something that I had to overcome because of what I was taught long before I had any personal experience with it. And I no longer subscribe to the guilt-inducing concepts that dominated - and for me littered - my religious education like the Great Fall, the Substitutionary Atonement, the (physical) Resurrection, etc. I now see sin as a separation from God (which, for me, means from the Divinity-in-Humanity that is my Source and all of ours), Jesus as the exemplar of a human life fully lived (in keeping with the insights of St. Irenaeus and Bishop Spong) and the Resurrection as a powerful spiritual reality (as Jesus' life and example continue to influence and guide my own two millennia later), etc. But sometimes I catch myself slipping back into that youthful guilt and I have to remind myself to be present in the moment and to keep living as fully and lovingly as I can, a reflection of my unique Christian-Buddhist-Taoist mix of an adult faith.
And living without guilt is great, not only because it's freeing emotionally, but also because it's powerfully so spiritually as well. Now that I no longer believe in Christianity's supremacy/exclusivity as the sole/"one true" path to God, I'm free to find God in other ways, through other experiences and along other paths ... and this is what has brought me to such a profoundly deeper spiritual place.
And yet I'll always be a Christian - or, in my preferred conception of it as guided by the incomparable Rev. Dr. Obery Hendricks, a Follower of Jesus - at base/first. It's my foundational faith, but does not constitute the entirety of it in my adulthood, which is itself a radically freeing reality and experience. Because I can still be cool with (read = in deep, loving relationship with) God if I see and experience Him/Her/It differently than 'traditional' or institutional Christianity taught me, I've gained a greater appreciation for the Divine in general and in particular in how He/She/It is immanent and ever-present and -manifest in (my and all) daily life. I can be present in each moment and 'know' God (read = feel Him/Her/It as my Source, in the indescribable and ineffable depths of my soul), even on my most hectic and/or challenging days (when it's admittedly harder, to be sure).
And I can disdain, set a contrasting example and endeavor mightily to respond lovingly to so much of what is falsely claimed as Christian belief and practice today, seemingly virtually completely antithetical as it is to our Patron's example.
And I can be illumined, persuaded and elevated by the wisdom of the East, especially in its Buddhist and Taoist versions, all without having to feel like I'm 'cheating' on my native Christianity. Spiritual freedom, which I believe to be one of God's greatest gifts to humans, is a wonderful experience indeed.
Which brings me to one final thought on religious and spiritual freedom: what is being done in its name in modern America and elsewhere is an abomination. That so many would presume to use God, the Ultimate Source of Life, as a justification to diminish and demean (the God-given Humanity and life of) others is inconceivable to me. How can we claim that God created the world and yet see only some (i.e., those who believe and/or appear to be like Us) as Children of God but not all? Where do we get the temerity to define where God's love stops along with our own? How can we presume to assert our religious or spiritual freedom in ways that limit others' rights and ability to do likewise? It's this with which I struggle in the arena of public faith and spirituality today.
And yet I remain thankful for the opportunity to retreat to and be healed and uplifted by my personal/private faith today, that idiosyncratic mix of traditions that speaks to me most deeply and uniquely in a truly enlivening way. It's this that I wish for all fellow humans, this sense of freedom and encouragement to find God and/or your best self in ways that are unique - and uniquely fulfilling - to you. And I accept that you may choose a different path than I do, which doesn't separate us as much as offer us an opportunity to dialogue with and learn from each other while also supporting each other along our respective paths (and our collective one).
I don't know one true path to God. I know my own. And I pray that yours be as profoundly fulfilling and elevating as mine has. Namaste.
My path is not a better path, it is simply a different path.
- Donald L. Hicks, Look into the Stillness
Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.
- Rumi
Make a gift of your life and lift all mankind by being kind, considerate, forgiving, and compassionate at all times, in all places, and under all conditions, with everyone as well as yourself. This is the greatest gift anyone can give.
- David R. Hawkins
