Monthly Archive for July, 2007

More on experience v. theology

Thomas Merton, again, from Zen and the Birds of Appetite:

The best we can say is that in certain religions, Buddhism for instance, the philosophical or religious framework is of a kind that can more easily be discarded, because it has in itself a built-in “ejector,” so to speak, by which the meditator is at a certain point flung out from the conceptual apparatus into the Void. It is possible for a Zen Master to say nonchalantly to his disciple, “If you meet the Buddha, kill him!” But in Christian mysticism the question whether or not the mystic can get along without the human “form” (Gestalt) or the sacred Humanity of Christ is still hotly debated, with the majority opinion definitely maintaining the necessity for the Christ of faith to be present as ikon at the center of Christian contemplation. Here again, the question is confused by the failure to distinguish between the objective theology of Christian experience and the actual psychological facts of Christian mysticism in certain cases. And then one must ask, at what point do the abstract demands of theory take precedence over the psychological facts of experience? Or, to what extent does the theology of a theologian without experience claim to interpret correctly the “experienced theology” of the mystic who is perhaps not able to articulate the meaning of his experience in a satisfactory way?

Everyone espousing a particular theology needs to have a way to distinguish those who believe the same from those who don’t. For the mystic, there is a certain language that is shared which makes no sense to outsiders. For the “theologian without experience” the theology must take on a rigid belief system which must be intellectual since there is no experiential basis. This external theology then requires adherence to sacraments, creeds, and behaviors. This is precisely why mystics have been questionable, at best, and often outcasts. The two theologies have nothing in common and there is a one-way path of communication. The mystic can interpret the other theology in terms of her experiences and thereby gain from participating in the sacraments, creeds, and behaviors. But there is no such understanding going the other direction. The non-experiencing theologian cannot understand the mystic’s theology any more than he can understand a joke told in a foreign language. Therefore, he has no ruler by which to measure the mystical theology’s closeness to his own. The easiest thing to do is condemn her.

And a little later …

On the other hand, let us repeat that we must not neglect the great importance of experience in Christianity. But Christian experience always has a special modality, due to the fact that it is inseparable from the mystery of Christ and the collective life of the Church, the Body of Christ. To experience the mystery of Christ mystically or otherwise is always to transcend the merely individual psychological level and to “experience theologically with the Church” (sentire cum Ecclesia). In other words, this experience must always be in some way reducible to a theological form that can be shared by the rest of the Church or that shows that it is a sharing of what the rest of the Church experiences. There is therefore in the recording of Christian experiences a natural tendency to set them down in language and symbols that are easily accessible to other Christians. This may perhaps sometimes mean an unconscious translation of the inexpressible into familiar symbols that are always at hand ready for immediate use.

Two things for me here but the second will be the subject of its own post. First is the idea that since “experience must always be … reducible to a theological form that can be shared” then there is “a natural tendency to set them down in language and symbols that are easily accessible to other Christians.”

I agree that if you are going to share experience with everyone then it must be reduced down to something concrete that can be passed around. And this is somewhat of a problem for me because by solidifying an experience, you lose so much and gain so little because it’s impossible for someone to partake in your experience who has not had the same experience (or similar) herself. Just imagine trying to share the experience of the color red with someone who has been blind since birth.

But making it “easily accessible” is the real problem for me. If it’s easy then it’s not so precious. I’ve talked on this topic before but I’m coming to realize that this is one of the bigger “issues” I take with Evangelical and Fundamental Christianity. (I hesitate using such adjectives as I know there is a wide range of Evangelicals and Fundamentalists and what I’m saying does not apply to everyone. What I really mean to do is describe the type of Christianity/Christian I am referring to by my description. The old “if the shoe fits …” and it’s up to you to decide if I’m referring to you or not.) But back on point. “Easily accessible” requires a formula. It does not allow for differing experiences of the same thing where these experiences are not trivially reconciled. Everyone must follow the formula or risk being labeled as a heretic.

This leads to legalism and fanaticism, and lends itself extremely well to hypocrisy. As long as you appear to be following the formula, toeing the line, then you are in the right. If you deviate from the formula, it is obvious and are a prime candidate for rebuke or retaliation from those in the right. Worse still, those who only appear to be correct are the ones who most vehemently require absolute compliance from the rest of us for it somehow alleviates the self doubt they secretly harbor. It’s their shadow being projected on others.

It is in such a legalistic context that the sacred symbols of our experience of Christ become the battle grounds of theologians who cannot admit the validity of formulae different from their own. The precise meaning and interpretation of the sacraments, for example, overshadow the experience and actually insulate the Christian from the full experience of Christ. The focus is so strongly fixated on the external details that the experience itself is lost. Whether the bread and wine actually become the body and blood of Jesus or whether they represent the body and blood or whatever should be a distant second in importance to the experience itself of partaking in the death and resurrection of The Christ.

Furthermore, the “easily accessible” formula not only insulates but actually works to prevent the experience because the experiencer has outside constraints on how the experience is to be realized. What one does and how one thinks is dictated by the formula and so one is not free to experience the sacraments, for example, apart from the well-defined, specific, ritual set down by the theologians. It’s like painting by number where you are told exactly what color to use where. That’s not really painting at all. There’s no feeling in it. There’s no connection with the work. There’s no real experience of painting.

The second point is the “set them down in language and symbols” part. Merton has an excellent passage on how we use language which is germane to this point and will be posted later.

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Merton pegs Fundamentalism

Thomas Merton from Zen and the Birds of Appetite:

At the same time, Christian experience itself will be profoundly affected by the idea of revelation that the Christian himself will entertain. For example, if revelation is regarded simply as a system of truths about God and an explanation of how the universe came into existence, what will eventually happen to it, what is the purpose of Christian life, what are its moral norms, what will be the rewards of the virtuous, and so on, then Christianity is in effect reduced to a world view, at times a religious philosophy and little more, sustained by a more or less elaborate cult, by a moral discipline and a strict code of Law. Experience of the inner meaning of Christian revelation will necessarily be distorted and diminished in such a theological setting. What will such experience be? Not so much a living theological experience of the presence of God in the world and in mankind through the mystery of Christ, but rather a sense of security in one’s own correctness: a feeling of confidence that one has been saved, a confidence which is based on the reflex awareness that one holds the correct view of the creation and purpose of the world and that one’s behavior is of a kind to be rewarded in the next life. Or, perhaps, since few can attain this level of self-assurance, then the Christian experience becomes one of anxious hope—a struggle with occasional doubt of the “right answers,” a painful and constant effort to meet the severe demands of morality and law, and a somewhat desperate recourse to the sacraments which are there to help the weak who must constantly fall and rise again.

Is this Christian Fundamentalism or what! The Bible is “absolute truth” and we should be most concerned with who’s getting it right and who’s getting it wrong. Jesus is coming back any day now so screw the environment. Morality is dictated by God in the Bible and everyone, regardless of religious beliefs, should follow this moral “law.” Christians should focus on what they’ll get in heaven. The more they are persecuted on earth the greater their reward. This gives them a “license” to do whatever they want because they perceive all persecution (even that inflicted on them for being just plain jerks) as building up rewards in the hereafter. The Fundamentalist’s Christianity is a world view and nothing more. It is legalism at it’s finest.

As Merton says, “experience of the inner meaning of Christian revelation will necessarily be distorted and diminished.” Despite their bully tactics and overall hubris, you really must feel sorry for these poor souls. They totally miss the point yet insist they are the point. But this insistence comes at a price: as a Christian, they are told that they should have “a feeling of confidence that one has been saved, a confidence which is based on the reflex awareness that one holds the correct view of the creation and purpose of the world and that one’s behavior is of a kind to be rewarded in the next life.” Yet, many cannot “attain this level of self-assurance” and it is precisely because it is out of their reach that they put on the show of confidence.

The code of conduct for the Fundamentalist is a bar set too high for it dictates not only overt actions but covert thoughts and motives which are damn near impossible to control yet extremely easy to fake. They truly are like the child who lashes out at others to compensate, in some futile way, for the abuse they receive at home. The Fundamentalist cannot live up to expectations and so points out others’ flaws to draw attention away from themselves.

And because they are focused on all this finger pointing and name calling, they miss the “living theological experience of the presence of God in the world and in mankind through the mystery of Christ.” God is too busy inflicting punishment on the sinners to be present in the world. Christ is not a mystery to them because they have him totally figured out and are able to weed out sinner from saint with their “x-ray” vision (which really doesn’t penetrate much past a person’s hair, tie, and Bible translation).

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Experience v. theology

I recently finished Thomas Merton’s Zen and the Birds of Appetite. Extremely highly recommended. Especially good was his introduction to Wu’s A Christian Look at Zen. Merton must have been a psychic because he addresses so many questions that I’m asking but he definitely is biased towards Christianity. Although I think that last statement may stem from my not having experienced Christianity as he did. He uses phrases like “mystery of Christ” and “word of the Cross” and I can’t help but wonder how deeply he felt these and how shallow the words are for me. But in any case, Merton wrote …

It cannot be repeated too often: in understanding Buddhism it would be a great mistake to concentrate on the “doctrine,” the formulated philosophy of life, and to neglect the experience, which is absolutely essential, the very heart of Buddhism. This is in a sense the exact opposite of the situation in Christianity. For Christianity begins with revelation. Though it would be misleading to classify this revelation simple as a “doctrine” and an “explanation” (it is far more than that—the revelation of God Himself in the mystery of Christ) it is nevertheless communicated to us in words, in statements, and everything depends on the believer’s accepting the truth of these statements.

Therefore Christianity has always been profoundly concerned with these statements: with the accuracy of their transmission from the original sources, with the precise understanding of their exact meaning, with the elimination and indeed the condemnation of false interpretations. At times this concern has been exaggerated almost to the point of an obsession, accompanied by arbitrary and fanatical insistence on hairsplitting distinctions and the purest niceties of theological detail.

This obsession with doctrinal formulas, juridical order and ritual exactitude has often made people forget that the heart of Catholicism, too, is a living experience of unity in Christ which far transcends all conceptual formulations. What too often has been overlooked, in consequence, is that Catholicism is the taste and experience of eternal life: “We announce to the you the eternal life which was with the Father and has appeared to us. What we have seen and have heard we announce to you, in order that you also may have fellowship with us and that our fellowship may be with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ.” (I John 1:2-3) Too often the Catholic has imagined himself obliged to stop short at a mere correct and external belief expressed in good moral behavior, instead of entering fully into the life of hope and love consummated by union with the invisible God “in Christ and in the Spirit,” thus fully sharing in the Divine Nature. (Ephesians 2:18, 2 Peter 1:4, Col. 1:9-17, I John 4:12)

Some of the blogs I pay attention to have been spending a lot of time on points of theology that I just can’t see the relevance of. Whether infant baptism is good/bad/indifferent. The “mechanics” of how Jesus’ death saves. Whether homosexuality is good/bad/indifferent. I don’t understand why people would spend so much time on these “trivial” theological points when they are so far from the point. To me, the only thing theology like that does is divide. The only result of saying “infant baptism is necessary and is proper and does such and such for the child and here are a bunch of verses that prove my point” is that you separate yourself from other Christians who do not hold the same view. When I was growing up in an IFCA church (that’s Independent Fundamental Churches of America), I truly thought that all Lutherans, all Episcopalians, all Catholics, most Methodists, some Presbyterians were going to hell. In sixth grade, I told a classmate who was Catholic that he was not a Christian. All based on differing points of theology.

Too many Christians have forgotten that Christianity is “a living experience of unity in Christ which far transcends all conceptual formulations.” Being a Christian has been reduced to a series of bulleted points that you must initial to show that you claim to believe them. And you have to learn to defend these points with chapter and verse so that you can persuade all heretics you may meet. This is what “defending your faith” has become — quibbling over insignificant points of theology.

Christianity should be the “entering fully into the life of hope and love consummated by union with the invisible God.” How can that be reduced to theology? It’s an experience that must be experienced first hand. It can’t be talked about and reduced to formulas. It’s like smelling a rose, watching a sunset, having an orgasm. You just have to experience it yourself or else you have absolutely no idea what it’s all about.

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Fast-acting AND long-lasting

So I’m reading Thomas Merton and D.T. Suzuki on Christian and Buddhist mysticism. I am really feeling a connection with mysticism and how it allows for more than one answer even when the multiple answers appear contradictory. But I’m also feeling very frustrated and … hopeless. I don’t have time for mysticism! I’ve got too little time to deal with my normal, everyday life let alone work on attaining enlightenment. I’m lucky if I get an hour of meditation in a day. It’s especially difficult because the only time I can really meditate is when my daughter takes a nap — late night meditation has not been going well lately. So I’ve got to be ready when she goes to sleep because she sometimes sleeps an hour or less. So, unless I’m “on the cushion” toot sweet, I have to stop “in the middle.” Plus, an hour a day seems trivial and worthless compared to the Desert Fathers who left society to find God. Most of them still had issues years later so how the hell am I supposed to get anywhere still immersed in society and meditating an hour a day?

Where is the get-it-now answer to my problem? Where is the infomercial that promises results before I can finish giving my credit card number? It’s right here, all around us. It’s called mainstream Christianity! The fast-acting and long-lasting solution. Get saved right now and you’re saved forever — and they really mean forever! This is the greatest delusion that Christianity perpetrates on the “lost” but it’s also why it’s so popular — it’s easy.

In a way, it’s too easy. But it’s also the most difficult thing. (paradox — love it!) It’s easy because all you have to do is “believe in Him” and you “shall not perish but have eternal life.” But, at least for me, it’s the most difficult thing because what I have to believe is unbelievable and amazingly incomplete! They make it sound simple. “Accept Jesus Christ into your heart.” In Billy Graham’s column, his answer to every single problem was to accept Jesus into your life. But what the hell does that mean??? No one tells you that. And that’s the great delusion — this one time act, according to them, which can be done in a moment of weakness or desperation or terror, is enough to counterbalance a lifetime of doing the most rotten, despicable, awful, repugnant, evil, vile things imaginable. Salvation, to them, is not a life-long process. It’s one single, solitary, isolated, independent act.

Sure, you’re supposed to grow in your Christian life but how much can you really grow going to church a couple hours a week? At least my parents drug us to church twice on Sundays plus Wednesday nights! And if you don’t make any progress well that’s ok, too, because God’s grace is sufficient and as long as you confess all your shortcomings and you really promise to try harder then it’s all hunky dory. All you really have to do is read your Bible and pray. Well, and look the part. That’s the most important thing — nice suit and tie on Sunday morning to cover up all that you don’t want the rest of them to see.

And there’s sermons on the fruits of the Spirit and how to have the faith-filled life and all that jazz. But those are offset by sermons on eternal security and how Paul even had trouble doing what was right. A little coaxing to keep moving and grow but a lot of reassurance if you just can’t quite do it.

So, go ahead and buy into their delusion if you want to. Convince yourself that going to church on Sunday morning and reading the “feel-good” passages in the Bible are enough. Keep a stiff upper lip during the really bad times so no one knows you have doubts. But that’s not what I’m doing. And I may not get very far in this lifetime but at least I’m trying to do something that means something — to me, at least.

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