Showing posts with label Cynthia Bourgeault. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cynthia Bourgeault. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 07, 2020

Holy Week, 2020

“The Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem” by Zambian artist Emmanuel Nsama


This evening's post serves as my 2020 Holy Week offering. In previous years, as you'll see at the end of this post, I've shared whole series of posts to mark Holy Week. I want to keep things simpler this year, as I did last year.

And so I share this evening some Holy Week writings that I've long found to be especially meaningful. They are accompanied by the artwork of others and some of my own photography, mainly of the natural world around my home in south Minneapolis, close to the Mississippi River.

As I've said previously, I don't find it surprising that the Christian church chose to remember and celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus at what could be called an in-between time of the year, a time when (in the northern hemisphere, at least) the natural world is experiencing both loss and promise.

The stark beauty of the earth at this time reminds me of the deep and profound spiritual truths within which we all have our being; truths that continually invite us to embark on journeys of transformation towards wholeness.

My friend Phillip Clark puts it this way: “The promise of resurrection and transformation is nowhere more poignantly displayed than in the natural world. Death, transience, and impermanence always give way to the splendor of New Life. Life never truly ends, on a biological or spiritual level. Evolution is intrinsic to the universe and defines the trajectory of our souls, from the temporal limitations of mortality to the boundless expanses of cosmic Eternity.”

I like to think that my nature photography reflects such spiritual truths, as well as providing in these especially troubling times, a much-needed groundedness in the beauty and wisdom of the earth.


______________________


When Jesus rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, he was revealing that the reign of God is in stark contrast to the reign of Rome and every other political system that seeks triumphant victory by influencing people through violence and coercion.

The Gospel of Jesus subverts the politics of violence because the Gospels is the politics of humility, service, forgiveness, and a nonviolent love that embraces all people, but especially those we call our enemies.

Tragically, we tend to live by the politics of Rome, not the politics of Jesus. Whether we are Republicans or Democrats, American or Russian, whenever we seek to influence others through coercion and violence, we are following the politics of Rome.

Fortunately, Jesus revealed the alternative. He called it “The Kingdom of God.” It’s a political way of life based not on triumphant violence, but rather humble service. The politics of Jesus makes sure everyone has daily bread, it seeks to forgive debts and sins, it avoids the temptation to commit evil against our neighbors, and it calls us into a life of forgiveness.

But this is risky. We know that the politics of Jesus led him to Good Friday, where he suffered and died. And yet he stayed true to the Kingdom of God, speaking words of forgiveness even as he was murdered, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

– Adam Eriksen
Excerpted from "The Subversive Politics of Palm Sunday"
Patheos
March 19, 2016





Jesus, our Tortured Brother,
In this world, so many are
forced to walk your path today –
the suffering and pain, the
humiliation, sense of betrayal
and abandonment,
for those with power, the
Romans of today, continue to
condemn others to modern crosses.

You said that what was done to the least of these
was done to you and so each day,
You are tortured anew.

Jesus, our Guardian of the Wounded and Tortured,
Bid us to look into the secret prisons – the unmarked
graves – the hearts and minds of the torture survivors,
Bid us to wipe the tears of the families of those whose
decapitated bodies were cast into the open sea,
Bid us to embrace the open wounds of the tortured.

Jesus, Guiding Spirit,
Teach us to be in solidarity with those who hang
from these crosses,
Call out to those who torture,
“Know the evil you have done and repent.”
Call out to the rest of us, “What meaning does love have
if you allow torture to continue unopposed?”

In the name of all the tortured of the world,
give us the strength, give us the courage,
give us the will to bring this horror to an end,
in the name of love, justice,
and the God of us all.

Amen.




Title of artwork and photographer unknown



On Good Friday we must challenge the notion that divine vengeance drove Jesus of Nazareth to the cross. Christ's passion for egalitarian fellowship, a world devoid of social stigma, and his invitation to discover the Reign of God, present within us, undermined the institutional and political authority of both the Temple religious establishment and the occupying presence of the Roman empire in first century Palestine.

Jesus died as a victim of capital punishment, at the hands of the state, subjected to unspeakable torture and brutality by soldiers charged with enforcing imperial domination.

Christ's life, death, and resurrection are profoundly political. Viewing the fate of Jesus as a cosmic transaction to satisfy God's retribution for humanity's sins dismisses the zealous passion for social justice that characterized his revolutionary ministry.

As our afflicted world yearns for healing, we would do well to contemplate the inequitable systems that perpetuate suffering by not allocating healthcare in comprehensively humane manner. The coronavirus pandemic is disproportionately affecting Black and Brown people, giving rise to contemporary casualties of injustice, mired in the anguish of a public health scheme that prizes pharmaceutical profits over expanding access to society's most vulnerable.

Christ's passion and death should spur us to radical action. If humanity need repent from anything, it is from neglecting to kindle solidarity and failing to conserve our shared planetary home.

– Phillip Clark
via Facebook
April 10, 2020



Artwork by Michael O'Brien



The passion is really the mystery of all mysteries, the heart of the Christian faith experience. By the word “passion” here we mean the events which end Jesus’ earthly life: his betrayal, trial, execution on a cross, and death. Of course, for Christian believers the passion is immediately followed by the resurrection, Jesus’ mysterious return to fleshy life, and later by his ascension into heaven and his disappearance from the earthly realm. These six events together comprise the full gamut of the Christian Paschal Mystery.

. . .[T]he word “paschal” [. . .] comes from the Hebrew pasch, which means “pass over.” It's the same word the Jewish tradition uses to speak of its own most sacred religious festival commemorating the miraculous night when Yahweh “passed over” the houses of the Israelites but struck down the Egyptians’ firstborn. Pasch connotes the passage from death to life, and that is exactly what the earliest Christians celebrated in a single continuous ceremony.

. . . The passion has always had strong emotional charge, for obvious reasons. The spectacle of an innocent and good man destroyed by the powers of this world is an archetypal human experience. It elicits our deepest feelings of remorse and empathy (and if we’re honest, our deepest shadows as well). It has long been commemorated in all the artistic genres: in the great oil canvases of Renaissance masters, in the sculpture and stained glass of the medieval cathedrals, in the English mystery plays and the German passion plays, and in music, particularly that of Bach, who gave the world his sublime St. John and St. Matthew passion oratorios. The passion is also quite manipulable. It’s been used to stir anger and scapegoating. It’s been used to fuel anti-Semitism, to induce personal guilt – “Christ died for your sins” – and to arouse devotion in a sentimental and even fanatical way.

From a wisdom point of view, what can we say about the passion? So much bad, manipulative, guilt-inducing theology has been based on it that it’s fair to wonder whether there is any hope of starting afresh. I believe wisdom does open up that possibility. The idea lies in that idea [. . .] of reading Jesus’ life as a sacrament: a sacred mystery whose real purpose is not to arouse empathy but to create empowerment. In other words, Jesus is not particularly interested in increasing either your guilt or your devotion, but rather, in deepening your personal capacity to make the passage into unitive life. If you're willing to work with that wager, the passion begins to make sense in a whole new way.

I’ve long been struck by the question of why it should be that in Jesus’ relatively short human life certain events and experiences seemed to come to him while others did not. He certainly lived in a very intense way the ordeals of betrayal, abandonment, homelessness, and death. Did it have to be like that? If he were indeed here on a divine mission, it would seem that he could have been given an easier path: chief priest, political leader, the Messiah that people expected him to be. From any of these launching pads he would have been well positioned to “put his teachings out there” and impact the consciousness of his times in really a significant way. But none of these materialized. Why not? Because the path he did walk is precisely the one that would most fully unleash the transformative power of his teaching. It both modeled and consecrated the eye of the needle that each one of us must personally pass through in order to accomplish the “one thing necessary” here, according to his teaching: to die to self. I am not talking about literal crucifixion, of course, but I am talking about the literal laying down of our “life,” at least as we usually recognize it. Our only truly essential human task here, Jesus teaches, is to grow beyond the survival instincts of the animal brain and egoic operating system into the kenotic joy and generosity of full human personhood. His mission was to show us how to do this. It was a mission he freely accepted. And the energy of his freedom is what ultimately raises the passion above all the emotional trappings and reveals it as a sacred path of liberation.

– Cynthia Bourgeault
Excerpted from The Wisdom Jesus
Shambhala, 2008, pp. 105-106








Ev’ry time I look at you I don’t understand
Why you let the things you did get so out of hand
You’d have managed better if you’d had it planned
Now why’d you choose such a backward time
And such a strange land?

If you’d come today you could have reached a whole nation
Israel in 4 BC had no mass communication

Don’t you get me wrong, I only wanna know:
Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ
Who are you? What have you sacrificed?
Jesus Christ, Superstar
Do you think you’re what they say you are?

Tell me what you think about your friends at the top
Who'd you think, besides yourself, was the pick of the crop?
Buddha, was he where it's at? Is he where you are?
Could Mohamed move a mountain, or was that just PR?

Did you mean to die like that? Was that a mistake, or
Did you know your messy death would be a record-breaker?

Don’t you get me wrong, I only wanna know:
Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ
Who are you? What have you sacrificed?
Jesus Christ, Superstar
Do you think you’re what they say you are?






Jesus was executed with two others, the so-called robbers, who presumably were executed, like Jesus, for political reasons. Hence, we may assume, first, that all three were condemned in one and the same trial, and that, second, all three were buried in the same mass grave.

It is characteristic that according to all four Gospels, Jesus was buried neither by his family nor by his disciples (though in the Synoptics a few women witness his burial: Matt. 27:61; Mark 15:47; Luke 23:55). Instead, he was buried by a third party, a point that the description of the burial still clearly remembers. But it wasn’t two rich and pious men [Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus] who buried him – why should his family and his friends have stayed away from [such a] burial? It was the Romans who buried him in a mass grave. And with the large number of the graves, which were immediately flattened, no one could say anymore where it was.

There was no splendor and glory hovering over Jesus’ burial. There were no hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes. After the most wretched and ignominious of all deaths, it was presumably the most miserable and wretched of all burials.

– Uta Ranke-Heinemann
Excerpted from Putting Away Childish Things
HarperCollins, 1994





The work of art above, based on Michelangelo Caravaggio's “The Entombment of Christ” (right) is credited elsewhere online as being by Polish Jesuit artist Vyacheslav Okun.

Artist Diana Muñiz offers the following commentary on this powerful work:

[T]o enter into this image one must understand the Pietà as an artistic genre or representation of Mary's suffering – and Christ's humanity as suffering servant in the gospels. In this Pietà, Mary's suffering over the destroyed body of Christ after he is taken off the cross is reimagined and substituted as [the suffering and grief of] healthcare workers [in the midst of the current global coronavirus pandemic]. The Pietà invites us to join her in her grief because we can believe that we grieve as she grieved. In the stories about Jesus’s mother in John’s Gospel, we are not invited to participate in God’s story – that is Luke’s invitation – instead, we see that God comes to participate in our story.




“Jesus Appears to Mary” by Doug Blanchard
(from his Passion of Christ: A Gay Vision series)


Together, the appearance stories in the gospels make explicit what is promised in Mark: “You will see him.” They underline the parabolic meaning of Mark’s story of the empty tomb: Jesus is not among the dead, but among the living. Indeed, this is one of the central affirmations of Easter: Jesus lives. He is a figure of the present, not simply the past. The presence his followers had known in Jesus before his crucifixion continued to be experienced and to operate after it.

Jesus lives. He continues to be experienced after his death, though in a radically new way. He is no longer . . . confined to time and space, but [is] a reality who can enter locked rooms, journey with followers without being recognized, be experienced in both Galilee and Jerusalem, vanish in the moment of recognition, and abide with his followers always, “to the end of the age.”







In Jesus's life, you see what it actually means not only to realize the divinity of the heart of one's humanity, but to live it out. Jesus was not content only to realize he was divine at the core of his being. Realizing it made him very conscious of how to act as a divine being in the world, which simply means to act on behalf of everyone who is brokenhearted and destroyed and at a loss and humiliated in the culture, to serve the afflicted and to serve them with tremendous courage at the core of life.

I think this is Jesus's challenge to all of us, whatever path we're on. Do we love enough? Are we prepared to have not merely spiritual experiences and mystical awakenings, but actually to take responsibility for them and to work with their insights in the real, to transform the real into a clearer and clearer image of that love and justice that we discover to be the truth of God and the truth of ourselves.

This is Jesus's call to the world. He's saying, first of all, open up to the Divine within you. Really open up. Plunge into the divine part,
into the core of your being, open up your sacred heart, see the world radiate the fire of the sacred heart, see every being as utterly and totally holy, know nature as holy, know each animal as holy.

Then he's saying you have to take that knowledge into action in the world. You can't simply revel in it and enjoy it. You are responsible for it. You have to enact it, first in your inmost life as a soul, and then in the life of the heart, then in the mind, and then in the life of action within the world, which is to be nothing less than a completely divine, completely human being, working with the Divine in the human to transfigure the human more and more into an image of the Divine.

That is the Christ challenge and the Christ path.

– Andrew Harvey
Excerpted from "Resurrecting the Authentic Christ:
Jesus as Guide to Mystical Love in Action"
in Radical Passion: Sacred Love & Wisdom in Action
pp. 235-236






For The Wild Reed's 2019 Holy Week post, see:
• In This In-Between Time



For The Wild Reed’s 2018 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from Druid author and speaker John Michael Greer’s essay “The God from the House of Bread” in the 2012 anthology, Jesus Through Pagan Eyes: Bridging Neopagan Perspectives with a Progressive Vision of Christ), see:
• The God from the House of Bread: A Bridge Between Christianity and Paganism (Part 1)
• The God from the House of Bread (Part 2)
• The God from the House of Bread (Part 3)
• The God from the House of Bread (Part 4)




For The Wild Reed’s 2017 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from a 1999 interview with scholar and teacher Andrew Harvey, accompanied by images that depict Jesus as the embodiment of the Cosmic Christ), see:
• Jesus Our Guide to Mystical Love (Part 1)
• Jesus Our Guide to Mystical Love (Part 2)
• Jesus Our Guide to Mystical Love (Part 3)





For The Wild Reed’s 2016 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from Richard Horsley’s 1993 book Jesus and the Spiral of Violence, accompanied by images of Juan Pablo Di Pace as Jesus in the 2015 NBC mini-series A.D.: The Bible Continues), see:
• Jesus and Social Revolution (Part 1)
• Jesus and Social Revolution (Part 2)
• Jesus and Social Revolution (Part 3)







For The Wild Reed’s 2015 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from Cletus Wessels’ book Jesus in the New Universe Story), see:
• The Two Entwined Events of the Easter Experience
• Resurrection in an Emerging Universe
• Resurrection: A New Depth of Consciousness



For The Wild Reed’s 2014 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from John Neafsey’s book A Sacred Voice is Calling: Personal Vocation and Social Conscience), see:
• “To Die and So to Grow”
• The Way of the Wounded Warrior
• Suffering and Redemption
• A God With Whom It is Possible to Connect
• A Discerning Balance Between Holiness and Wholeness: A Hallmark of the Resurrected Life




For The Wild Reed’s 2013 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from Albert Nolan’s book Jesus Before Christianity, accompanied by images of Jesus that some might call "unconventional"), see:
• Jesus: The Upside-down Messiah
• Jesus: Mystic and Prophet
• Jesus and the Art of Letting Go
• Within the Mystery, a Strange and Empty State of Suspension
• Jesus: The Revelation of Oneness




For The Wild Reed’s 2012 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from Cynthia Bourgeault’s book The Wisdom Jesus: Transforming Heart and Mind – A New Perspective on Christ and His Message), see:
• The Passion: “A Sacred Path of Liberation”
• Beyond Anger and Guilt
• Judas and Peter
• No Deeper Darkness
• When Love Entered Hell
• The Resurrected Jesus . . .



For The Wild Reed’s 2011 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from Albert Nolan’s book Jesus Before Christianity, accompanied by images of various cinematic depictions of Jesus), see:
• “Who Is This Man?”
• A Uniquely Liberated Man
• An Expression of Human Solidarity
• No Other Way
• Two Betrayals
• And What of Resurrection?
• Jesus: The Breakthrough in the History of Humanity
• To Believe in Jesus



For The Wild Reed’s 2010 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from Andrew Harvey’s book Son of Man: The Mystical Path to Christ), see:
• Jesus: Path-Blazer of Radical Transformation
• The Essential Christ
• One Symbolic Iconoclastic Act
• One Overwhelming Fire of Love
• The Most Dangerous Kind of Rebel
• Resurrection: Beyond Words, Dogmas and All Possible Theological Formulations
• The Cosmic Christ: Brother, Lover, Friend, Divine and Tender Guide




For The Wild Reed’s 2009 Holy Week series (featuring the artwork of Doug Blanchard and the writings of Marcus Borg, James and Evelyn Whitehead, John Dominic Crossan, Andrew Harvey, Francis Webb, Dianna Ortiz, Uta Ranke-Heinemann and Paula Fredriksen), see:
• The Passion of Christ (Part 1) – Jesus Enters the City
• The Passion of Christ (Part 2) – Jesus Drives Out the Money Changers
• The Passion of Christ (Part 3) – Last Supper
• The Passion of Christ (Part 4) – Jesus Prays Alone
• The Passion of Christ (Part 5) – Jesus Before the People
• The Passion of Christ (Part 6) – Jesus Before the Soldiers
• The Passion of Christ (Part 7) – Jesus Goes to His Execution
• The Passion of Christ (Part 8) – Jesus is Nailed the Cross
• The Passion of Christ (Part 9) – Jesus Dies
• The Passion of Christ (Part 10) – Jesus Among the Dead
• The Passion of Christ (Part 11) – Jesus Appears to Mary
• The Passion of Christ (Part 12) – Jesus Appears to His Friends


Sunday, March 27, 2016

The Risen Jesus: Our Integral Ground


"Our whole universe is profoundly permeated
with the presence of Christ."


Cynthia Bourgeault is one of my favorite writers on spirituality, and I've actually shared the following previously at The Wild Reed. Yet what she says in this particular passage is so powerful and beautiful that I happily share it again today, Easter Sunday 2016. Enjoy! . . . and Happy Easter!

What Jesus so profoundly demonstrates to us in his passage from death to life is that the walls between the realms are paper thin. Along the entire ray of creation, the "mansions" are interpenetrating and mutually permeable by love. The death of our physical form is not the death of our individual personhood. Our personhood remains alive and well, "hidden with Christ in God" (to use Paul's beautiful phrase in Colossians 3:3) and here and now we can draw strength from it (and him) to live our temporal lives with all the fullness of eternity. If we can simply keep our hearts wrapped around this core point, the rest of the Christian path begins to fall into place.

Yes, his physical form no longer walks the planet. But if we take him at his word, that poses no disruption to intimacy if we merely learn to recognize him at that other level, just as he has modeled for his disciples during those first forty days of Eastertide.

Nor has that intimacy subsided in two thousand years – at least according to the testimony of a long lineage of Christian mystics, who in a single voice proclaim that our whole universe is profoundly permeated with the presence of Christ. He surrounds, fills, holds together from top to bottom this human sphere in which we dwell. The entire cosmos has become his body, so to speak, and the blood flowing through it is his love. . . . Jesus in his ascended state is not farther removed from human beings but more intimately connected with them. He is the integral ground, the ambient wholeness within which our contingent human lives are always rooted and from which we are always receiving the help we need to keep moving ahead on the difficult walk we have to walk here. When the eye of our own heart is open and aligned within this field of perception, we recognize whom we're walking with.

– Cynthia Bourgeault
Excerpted from The Wisdom Jesus
pp.132-134


See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Easter: The Celebration of the Sacrament of Transformation
• The Two Entwined Events of the Easter Experience
• Resurrection in an Emerging Universe
• Resurrection: A New Depth of Consciousness
• Easter Reflections
• Easter Exultet
• The Resurrected Jesus
• Jesus: The Breakthrough in the History of Humanity
• The Passion of Christ (Part 11) – Jesus Appears to Mary
• The Passion of Christ (Part 12) – Jesus Appears to His Friends
• The Triumph of Love: An Easter Reflection
• A Girl Named Sara: A "Person of the Resurrection"
• Resurrection: Beyond Words, Dogmas, and All Possible Theological Formulations
• A Discerning Balance Between Holiness and Wholeness: A Hallmark of the Resurrected Life

Image: Benedictine Sisters of Turvey Abbey.


Monday, December 21, 2015

Thoughts on Christian Meditation (Part 4)


The Wild Reed's Advent 2015 series on Christian meditation continues with a second excerpt from Cynthia Bourgeault's 2004 book, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening.

(Note: To start at the beginning of this series, click here.)

_________________________


I remember being struck more than a decade ago by a comment made by Father Laurence Freeman, successor to Dom John Main in the teaching of Christian meditation, during a homily for All Souls Day at the Benedictine Priory in Montreal. Pondering what meditation has to teach us about Jesus' own death, Father Laurence remarked, "Every time we meditate, we participate in the death of Christ."

He is quite right, of course. The practice of meditation is indeed an authentic experience of dying to self – at the level of something very fundamental; our core sense of identity and the egoic processing methods that keep it in place. When we enter meditation, it is like a "mini-death," at least from the perspective of the ego (which is why it can initially feel so scary). We let go of our self-talk, our interior dialogue, our fears, wants, needs, preferences, daydreams, and fantasies. These all become just "thoughts," and we learn to let them go. We simply entrust ourselves to a deeper aliveness, gently pulling the plug on that tendency of the mind to want to check in with itself all the time. In this sense, meditation is a mini-rehearsal for the hour of our own death, in which the same thing will happen. There comes a moment when the ego is no longer able to hold us together, and our identity is cast to the mercy of Being itself. This is the existential experience of "losing one's life."

I think the inference is obvious: Just as in meditation we participate in the death of Christ, we also participate in his resurrection. At the end of those twenty or so minutes of sitting, when the bell is rung, we are still here! For twenty minutes we have not been holding ourselves in life, yet life remains. Something has carried us. And this same something, we gradually come to trust, will hold and carry us at the hour of our death. To know this – really know this – is the beginning of resurrection life.

– Cynthia Bourgeault
Excerpted from Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening


NEXT: Part 5


See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Thoughts on Christian Meditation (Part 1)
• Thoughts on Christian Meditation (Part 2)
• Thoughts on Christian Meditation (Part 3)
• Diarmuid O'Murchú on Our Capacity to Meditate: "A Gift Bestowed Upon Every Human Being"
• Happy Birthday, Mum! (includes Thích Nhất Hạnh's thoughts on walking meditation)
• Prayer of the Week – November 23, 2015
• The Source is Within You
• The Ground Zero Papal Prayer Service . . . and a Reminder of the Spirituality That Transcends What All the Religions Claim to Represent
• In the Garden of Spirituality – Anthony de Mello
• "Joined at the Heart": Robert Thompson on Christianity and Sufism
• As the Last Walls Dissolve . . . Everything is Possible
• The Most Sacred and Simple Mystery of All

Image: "Cosmic Embrace" (artist unknown).


Friday, December 18, 2015

Thoughts on Christian Meditation (Part 3)

The Wild Reed's Advent 2015 series on Christian meditation continues with an excerpt from Cynthia Bourgeault's 2004 book, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening.

(Note: To start at the beginning of this series, click here.)

____________________

Virtually every spiritual tradition that holds a vision of human transformation at its heart also claims that a practice of intentional silence is a non-negotiable. Period. You just have to do it. Whether it be meditation of the yogic and Buddhist traditions, the zikr of the Sufis, the devkut of mystical Judaism, or the contemplative prayer of the Christians, there is a universal affirmation that this form of spiritual practice is essential to spiritual awakening.

When I talk about "transformation" and "awakening," incidentally, I should make clear that [I am not using New Age terminology]. I am speaking of: "You must be born from above" (John 3:7), or "Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears fruit" (John 12:24), or perhaps more pointedly: "For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for me will find it" (Matthew 16:24-25). Among the worldwide religions, Christianity is surely one of the most urgently and irrevocably set upon the total transformation of the human person.

And while it is true that we don't have pictures of Jesus teaching meditation practice exactly – this can be read between the lines fairly easily on any number of occasions and more importantly, derived theologically.

Like most of the great spiritual masters of our universe, Jesus taught from the conviction that we human beings are victims of a tragic case of mistaken identity. The person I normally take myself to be – that busy, anxious little "I" so preoccupied with its goals, fears, desires, and issues – is never even remotely the whole of who I am, and to seek the fulfillment of my life at this level means to miss out on the bigger picture. This is why, according to his teaching,the one who tries to keep his "life" (i.e., the small one) will lose it, and the one who is willing to lose it will find the real thing. Beneath the surface there is a deeper and vastly more authentic Self, but its presence is usually veiled by the clamor of the small "I" with its insatiable needs and demands.

This confusion between small self and larger Self (variously known in the traditions as "True Self," "Essential Self," or "Real I") is the core illusion of the human condition, and penetrating this illusion is what awakening is all about.

– Cynthia Bourgeault
Excerpted from Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening


NEXT: Part 4


See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• Thoughts on Christian Meditation (Part 1)
• Thoughts on Christian Meditation (Part 2)
• Diarmuid O'Murchú on Our Capacity to Meditate: "A Gift Bestowed Upon Every Human Being"
• Happy Birthday, Mum! (includes Thích Nhất Hạnh's thoughts on walking meditation)
• Sufism: A Call to Awaken
• Prayer of the Week – November 23, 2015
• The Source is Within You
• The Ground Zero Papal Prayer Service . . . and a Reminder of the Spirituality That Transcends What All the Religions Claim to Represent
• Prayer and the Experience of God in an Ever-Unfolding Universe
• In the Garden of Spirituality – Anthony de Mello
• "Joined at the Heart": Robert Thompson on Christianity and Sufism
• Sufism: Way of Love, Tradition of Enlightenment, and Antidote to Fanaticism
• As the Last Walls Dissolve . . . Everything is Possible
• The Most Sacred and Simple Mystery of All

Related Off-site Link:
What is Meditation? – The World Community for Christian Meditation.


Tuesday, September 10, 2013

“Joined at the Heart”: Robert Thompson on Christianity and Sufism


One of my favorite books on spirituality is Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee’s Prayer of the Heart in Christian and Sufi Mysticism (The Golden Sufi Center, 2012). In commenting on this book, Franciscan priest and author Richard Rohr notes that, “As we recover more and more of the ancient contemplative traditions, we are finding immense similarities in goal, practice, and effects. At a mystical level, we are seemingly talking about the same experience, despite our different vocabularies and styles.”

Prayer of the Heart in Christian and Sufi Mysticism contains a foreword written by Cynthia Bourgeault (author of another favorite book of mine, The Wisdom Jesus). Bourgeault echoes Rohr’s observation when she writes that Vaughan-Lee’s book offers a “profound contribution” to what he understands as the “collective evolution of our hearts.” It's an evolution that’s bringing us all closer together, not further apart.

I mention all of this as it recently came to my attention (thanks to my friend Brian) that a key part of Bourgeault’s foreword to Vaughan-Lee’s book is quoted in “Joined at the Heart: Imagining Christianity and Sufism,” a fascinating article by Robert Thompson. At one point Thompson takes Bourgeault’s wise observation regarding Christianity and Sufism and fleshes it out within the context of his own article. Given my deep interest in and journey on the mystical path that is shared by both Christianity and Sufism, I happily share the following excerpt from Thompson’s scholarly piece.

[To say that] “Christianity began as a form of what later is called Sufism,” is [to] suggest that “Christianity” (in its reality as opposed to its name) did not originate in the first century of the Common Era and that “Sufism” (in its reality as opposed to its name) did not originate within Islam. They are both much older and we don’t want to be misled by names. The terms themselves – “Christianity” and “Sufism” – are deserving of attention as to what we may be intending in using these terms, particularly in reference to their earliest recognizable manifestations in historical time. There is that celebrated saying from Augustine: “The very thing which is now called the Christian religion existed among the ancients also, nor was it wanting, from the inception of the human race until the coming of Christ in the flesh, at which point the true religion, which was already in existence, began to be called Christian.” The Caucasus and Egypt are variously offered as remote sources for the “nameless way” of the friends of Divine Wisdom, later to be called Sufism and other names. (See also Toshihiko Izutzu’s Sufism and Taoism: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts.)

It is somewhat of an epistemologically “fallen state” to require contrasts in order to understand something. We could say that early Christianity was something like a Judaic mystery religion but then we would have to put into question what we think we know about “the mysteries.” We have been educated to regard the “mystery religions” as being about knowledge – a kind of knowledge received by seeing. The reality, however, is that in the time of the pre-Socratics, there was not the distinction to be made between “religion” and “philosophy” – they were of a whole tissue. The Mysteries were also designed as part of a process intended to be transformative. Early Christianity – as well as what was later referred to as Sufism – also had this character. (See Robin Amis’s A Different Christianity and Jacob Needleman’s Lost Christianity.)

Recall that in Eastern Christianity, particularly, it is sometimes remembered and understood that the goal of Christian formation is “theosis.” The transformative content of Sufism is particularly highlighted in this definition offered by Murat Yagan: Sufism is “the process of awakening and developing latent human powers under divine grace and guidance.” The emphasis in this are the words “under divine grace and guidance.” To further emphasize the transformative character of the Christian and/or Sufi “Work” consider the mission of G. I. Gurdjieff in the modern world where the essence of his teaching is variously understood, depending on the context, as “Christian” and as “Sufi.” This particular emphasis in Sufism is sometimes especially associated with Sufism in its “Northern” manifestations sometimes having some traditional connection with Yusuf Hamdani (d. 1140). (See John G. Bennett’s The Masters of Wisdom.) For Christian expressions of the Gurdjieff Work, I commend especially Maurice Nicoll’s The Mark and The New Man.

Margaret Barker, who gave the 2012 Alexander Schmemann Lecture at St. Vladimir’s Seminary, is an excellent resource for the continuities with First Temple Judaism. What we find there is that early Christianity has its place within what is called Enochic tradition of (visionary, merkaba) Judaism that was quite separate from the official Second Temple priesthood and theology. Gabriele Boccaccini also offers a glimpse into this tradition in his Beyond the Essene Hypothesis and other works. Also, in early Christianity, as we know, there was a parting of the ways between Judaic and Gentile (Pauline) Christianity. Scholars such as Samuel Zinner have thought that if there is a desire to look for possible historical continuities between early Christianity and what later began to be called Sufism, then the focus might be on the Ebionites which grew out of that Judaic Christianity that supposedly “disappeared.” Keith Akers has a good book on that as well.

. . . [T]here is an ethos of early Christianity that is congruent with what is called Sufism. In the foreword to Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee’s recent Prayer of the Heart in Christian and Sufi Mysticism, Cynthia Bourgeault writes: “Sufism and Christian are joined at the heart; of that there can be little doubt. I have come to that conclusion in my own right, in the course of my own twenty-year quest to recover Christianity’s authentic Wisdom tradition. . . . I often imagine a kind of hand-off, which may be both historically and politically incorrect but continues to ring with inner truth: that as institutional Christianity became increasingly dogmatic and propositional in its formulations in those centuries following its elevation to the official religion of the Roman Empire, Sufism arose in the cradle of Islam to receive and nurture those teachings on the heart that had first been planted in those near-eastern lands directly from the living heart of Jesus.”

An excellent resource to see the threads of the connections that Bourgeault refers to (when she writes “I often imagine a kind of hand-off”) is Margaret Smith’s The Way of the Mystics: The Early Christian Mystics and the Rise of the Sufis (Oxford, 1978). Margaret Smith was a student of Louis Massignon.

The challenge for those who want to see connections between Christianity and Sufism is not simply to look deeply into (historical) time but to envision the connections for ourselves and for those we love – which may entail an openness to re-discovering neglected riches within Christianity and to discovering for ourselves the significance of Sufism beyond Islamicate contexts. As Sergius Bulgakov wrote in 1895 about that revelatory day in the Caucasus: “The first day of creation shone before my eyes. Everything was clear, everything was at peace and full of ringing joy.” Thomas Merton also had his revelatory (le pointe vierge) moment in Louisville at the corner of Walnut and 4th Street. When there is full awareness (and remembering Canon Allchin), this is what participation in God looks like! In these moments – and in the remembrance of these moments – the question does not distress us.


To read Robert Thompson's article "Joined at the Heart: Imagining Christianity and Sufism" in its entirety, click here.


See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• The Sufi Way
• Sufism: A Call to Awaken
• In the Garden of Spirituality – Doris Lessing
• Quote of the Day – February 6, 2013
• In the Garden of Spirituality – Hazrat Inayat Khan
• In the Garden of Spirituality – Kabir Helminski
• Quote of the Day – November 16, 2011
• The Winged Heart
• Threshold Musings
• The Onward Call
• Keeping the Spark Alive: Conversing with “Modern Mystic” Chuck Lofy
• As the Last Walls Dissolve . . . Everything is Possible

Recommended Off-site Links:
Sharing the Sufis of Syria – Emily O’Dell (Huffington Post, September 5, 2013).
Everyday Mysticism – Spirituality and Practice.

Opening Image: Ala Ebtekar. Danny Olda writes:

The art of Ala Ebtekar is as simple as it is effective. Ebtekar was born in the United States and raised in California but retained a strong connection to the land of his heritage, Iran. You can nearly see in Ebtekar’s work a gazing at home from far away, a sort of portal. Ebtekar is definitely referencing the cosmic with this work. He says of the Sufi influence behind his work, “Sufis believe that existence is of two natures – both earthly and divine – and it’s that transition between these two states that’s represented by an arch. The arch could be in architecture, but it could also be a beloved’s eyebrow, and how that’s an entrance to that other space.” Ebtekar also subtly uses Western imagery in addressing this “other space” – you’ll notice some of these pieces printed on the back of science fiction movie posters.

Sunday, April 08, 2012

The Resurrected Jesus . . .


. . . Not further removed from us
but more intimately connected with us


The Wild Reed's 2012 Holy Week series concludes this Easter Sunday with a sixth and final exceprt from Cynthia Bourgeault's The Wisdom Jesus: Transforming Heart and Mind – A New Perspective on Christ and His Message. (To start at the beginning of this series, click here.)

__________________________


There are many skeptics who say that resurrection is a myth, that Jesus never rose. I myself believe that he did, and I stand my ground with Christian tradition when I affirm that his resurrection does indeed make a profound difference to how we live here and now.

. . . [W]hat Jesus so profoundly demonstrates to us in his passage from death to life is that the walls between the realms are paper thin. Along the entire ray of creation, the "mansions" are interpenetrating and mutually permeable by love. The death of our physical form is not the death of our individual personhood. Our personhood remains alive and well, "hidden with Christ in God" (to use Paul's beautiful phrase in Colossians 3:3) and here and now we can draw strength from it (and him) to live our temporal lives with all the fullness of eternity. If we can simply keep our hearts wrapped around this core point, the rest of the Christian path begins to fall into place.

Yes, his physical form no longer walks the planet. But if we take him at his word, that poses no disruption to intimacy if we merely learn to recognize him at that other level, just as he has modeled for his disciples during those first forty days of Eastertide.

Nor has that intimacy subsided in two thousand years – at least according to the testimony of a long lineage of Christian mystics, who in a single voice proclaim that our whole universe is profoundly permeated with the presence of Christ. He surrounds, fills, holds together from top to bottom this human sphere in which we dwell. The entire cosmos has become his body, so to speak, and the blood flowing through it is his love. These are not statements that can be scientifically corroborated, but they do seem to ring true to the mystically attuned heart. . . . These same mystical visionaries have tended to claim that this "pan-cosmic" saturation of his being into the deepest marrow of this created world was the cosmic cornerstone turned in his passage through death. Without in any way denying or overriding the conditions of this earth plane, he has interpenetrated them fully, infused them with his own interior spaciousness, and invited us all into this invisible but profoundly coherent energetic field so that we may live as one body – the "Mystical Body of Christ," as it's known in Christian tradition – manifesting the Kingdom of Heaven here and now. Jesus in his ascended state is not farther removed from human beings but more intimately connected with them. He is the integral ground, the ambient wholeness within which our contingent human lives are always rooted and from which we are always receiving the help we need to keep moving ahead on the difficult walk we have to walk here. When the eye of our own heart is open and aligned within this field of perception, we recognize whom we're walking with.

– Cynthia Bourgeault
The Wisdom Jesus
132-134


For more of Cynthia Bourgeault's writings at The Wild Reed, see:
Advent 2011: Thoughts and Reflections (Part 2)
Advent 2011: Thoughts and Reflections (Part 4)

For the previous installments of The Wild Reed's 2012 Holy week series, see:
The Passion: "A Sacred Path of Liberation"
Beyond Anger and Guilt
Judas and Peter
No Deeper Darkness
When Love Entered Hell
The Resurrected Jesus . . .

For The Wild Reed's 2011 Holy week series (featuring excerpts from Albert Nolan’s book Jesus Before Christianity, accompanied by images of various cinematic depictions of Jesus), see:
"Who Is This Man?"
A Uniquely Liberated Man
An Expression of Human Solidarity
No Other Way
Two Betrayals
And What of Resurrection?
Jesus: The Breakthrough in the History of Humanity
To Believe in Jesus

For The Wild Reed’s 2010 Holy Week series (featuring excerpts from Andrew Harvey’s book Son of Man: The Mystical Path to Christ), see:
Jesus: Path-Blazer of Radical Transformation
The Essential Christ
One Symbolic Iconoclastic Act
One Overwhelming Fire of Love
The Most Dangerous Kind of Rebel
Resurrection: Beyond Words, Dogmas and All Possible Theological Formulations
The Cosmic Christ: Brother, Lover, Friend, Divine and Tender Guide

For The Wild Reed’s 2009 Holy Week series (featuring the artwork of Doug Blanchard and the writings of Marcus Borg, James and Evelyn Whitehead, John Dominic Crossan, Andrew Harvey, Francis Webb, Dianna Ortiz, Uta Ranke-Heinemann and Paula Fredriksen), see:
The Passion of Christ (Part 1) – Jesus Enters the City
The Passion of Christ (Part 2) – Jesus Drives Out the Money Changers
The Passion of Christ (Part 3) – Last Supper
The Passion of Christ (Part 4) – Jesus Prays Alone
The Passion of Christ (Part 5) – Jesus Before the People
The Passion of Christ (Part 6) – Jesus Before the Soldiers
The Passion of Christ (Part 7) – Jesus Goes to His Execution
The Passion of Christ (Part 8) – Jesus is Nailed the Cross
The Passion of Christ (Part 9) – Jesus Dies
The Passion of Christ (Part 10) – Jesus Among the Dead
The Passion of Christ (Part 11) – Jesus Appears to Mary
The Passion of Christ (Part 12) – Jesus Appears to His Friends

See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
The Triumph of Love: An Easter Reflection
A Girl Named Sara: A "Person of the Resurrection"
Why Jesus is My Man
Jesus Was a Sissy
The "Wild Gaiety" of Jesus' Moral Teaching
Jesus, Sex and Power
Jesus and Homosexuality
Jesus and the Centurion (Part 1)
Jesus and the Centurion (Part 2)
Revisiting a Groovy Jesus (and a Dysfunctional Theology)
When Expulsion is the Cost of Discipleship
Christ and Krishna
The Wounded and Risen Christ



Opening image: "The Road to Emmaus" by Lyndel Littleton.