I've been preaching for many years. It's a welcome challenge week after week to try to say something useful, relevant, and honest. I've learned a lot in the process, but when I write fiction, it seems that the old questions present themselves in new ways. When I wrote Community of Promise, I looked at the developing relationship of individuals and communities with the divine spirit. The book showed that those relationships could happen in a wide number of ways and that there need not be a hierarchical system of indoctrination for religion to be healthy. In fact, it was not necessary at all for people to believe the same things. They did, however, need to talk to one another and to respect the various perspectives that they brought to the conversation.
Today I find myself thinking about the many functions, purposes, and uses of religion that have been exercised throughout time and place in our world. Many people explain the rise of religion in terms of fear. Clearly there are forces in the world – storms, floods, sunlight, and the like – that can be dangerous (or helpful) and that appear to operate in ways that might be arbitrary. The explanation goes that people in the distant past attributed these forces to anthropomorphic “gods.” If the gods are anything like us, or more accurately if we are anything like the gods, then influence might be possible – hence sacrifices, rituals, and other activities sprang up for that purpose.
That explanation rides on the notion that unless we do what the gods want, or at least what is pleasing to them, life will be more dangerous for us. At its foundation, these purposes are manipulative. Idolatry might be defined as the creation of “gods” for whom the rules and outcomes are well defined. Idolatry puts the “real” power (manipulative as it may be) in human hands. It is an attempt to figure out how to get the gods to treat us the way we want. Much of religious behavior throughout time seems to be of that type. A nasty side effect of this use of religion is that it allows the rich and powerful to argue that they are more acceptable to the gods, so they must deserve what they have. And, of course, that also means that the poor and disenfranchised must be less acceptable, and do not deserve as much.
There is another way of thinking that develops through the history of any particular religion. Because most of my study has been the Judeo-Christian tradition, I see its development most clearly there, but I have seen evidence of it in other religious traditions as well. Here it is: what if religious practice is designed to develop trusting relationship rather than being a manipulative response to danger?
It seems to me that every religion is subject to both kinds of use: manipulative, or trusting. Once we understand these opposing uses of religion, then we can evaluate our own practices to see what we are up to with our beliefs, symbols, and rituals. It appears to me that when we use manipulative forms of religion, we have a greater tendency to hurt one another and to undermine the very fabric of our communities.
So why and how do you relate to the divine? Is your behavior based in fear that you will be punished if you don't do “what God wants?” Is it based in a self-serving affirmation that you deserve what you have and that others don't deserve as much? Is it based in the belief that relationship is important in any healthy community, and that trust and mutual respect build us up?
It is clear from the way I have constructed these questions how I see it. How about you? How would you have religion function in your world?
Please use the comments section to let us all know.
Wayne Gustafson
“The Promised Land is within and among us.”
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
What If...?
I've been curious for a long time about the prevalence and diversity of religion at all times and places throughout human history. We even have some archeological evidence about what look like religious artifacts in pre-historical times. With all this time and effort given to this sacred task, you could wonder if we'll ever get it right – that is to say, is it possible to find a body of religious understanding, symbol, and ritual that could be proven to be the “correct” understanding – the one that any rational person would have to accept?
In my experience, the search for the “correct” religious understanding constitutes a very dangerous approach indeed. It inevitably results in divisiveness, increased fear, suspicion, and efforts to convert those who believe differently, sometimes by threatening and even deadly means. Furthermore, so much of religious language, practice, and articulated theology has been shown to include political, economic, and even overtly racist motivation.
In Community of Promise, a different kind of religious understanding brings people together. This novel, like many others, can be seen as an experiment in “what if.”
So, what if religion began with the understanding that there is no correct way to believe? What if worship of God had nothing to do with creating an advantage for yourself over your foes? What if God does not set people against each other, but is manifest in the relational spaces between people? What if the individuals within a community truly relied upon one another's developing relationship with the Divine, and what if the community turned out to be capable of a deeper appreciation of truth than the individual? What if we could extend that process to say that even groups with differing perspectives could learn and grow through mutual sharing?
And finally, what if we didn't have to set up “official” religious bodies to shape and control the beliefs and behavior of the masses?
These are big questions, but don't let the number of them be confusing. They all really boil down to one: What if the Promised Land, or the Realm of God, or the healthiest possible practice of community is truly “within and among us?”
Wayne Gustafson
In my experience, the search for the “correct” religious understanding constitutes a very dangerous approach indeed. It inevitably results in divisiveness, increased fear, suspicion, and efforts to convert those who believe differently, sometimes by threatening and even deadly means. Furthermore, so much of religious language, practice, and articulated theology has been shown to include political, economic, and even overtly racist motivation.
In Community of Promise, a different kind of religious understanding brings people together. This novel, like many others, can be seen as an experiment in “what if.”
So, what if religion began with the understanding that there is no correct way to believe? What if worship of God had nothing to do with creating an advantage for yourself over your foes? What if God does not set people against each other, but is manifest in the relational spaces between people? What if the individuals within a community truly relied upon one another's developing relationship with the Divine, and what if the community turned out to be capable of a deeper appreciation of truth than the individual? What if we could extend that process to say that even groups with differing perspectives could learn and grow through mutual sharing?
And finally, what if we didn't have to set up “official” religious bodies to shape and control the beliefs and behavior of the masses?
These are big questions, but don't let the number of them be confusing. They all really boil down to one: What if the Promised Land, or the Realm of God, or the healthiest possible practice of community is truly “within and among us?”
Wayne Gustafson
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Courage to Listen
I continue to be disturbed by the highly divisive and adversarial tone that pervades public and private discourse in our culture today. I wrote last week about communication as a significant quality of healthy community, particularly the ability to listen. What I am wondering about today is the apparent difficulty we have in listening to each other. What stands in the way of our ability to listen to the experiences of another?
One answer to the question is cynicism. Hardly anyone believes that others are telling the truth about their own experiences. Every communication is suspected of being a manipulation. It's as if the name of the game has become who can tell the biggest lie in order to get someone else to believe the way you want them to believe.
It becomes a conundrum. If I can't believe that anyone is telling the truth, then I am stuck with drawing conclusions based only on my own relatively narrow experience and perspective. Now, you might argue that people are still reading newspapers, still buying books on political and social themes, still listening to talk radio. That is so. But I have come to recognize a personal temptation regarding the sources of my information. I tend to prefer reading and listening to people who already see the world pretty much as I do. This is not a useful policy. While it might feel supportive of my personal opinions, if I restrict myself that way, how am I going to learn anything?
One way to continue learning is to distinguish “point of view” and “perspective” from opinion. If I simply state my opinions, that is to say, my conclusions about an issue, then you have plenty of reason to tell me that I am entitled to my opinion, but you don't agree with it. If, on the other hand, I offer a perspective, then I am giving you something useful. I am sharing that this is what the situation looks like from where I stand. If you see things differently, we need not immediately conclude that one of us is right and the other one wrong. We will be able to recognize that the differences are related to the difference in our perspectives. Then we can learn something! Opinions are mutually exclusive, while perspectives can be added together. When perspectives are shared, then everyone has opportunity to see more broadly.
I suggest to you that our community, if it is going to be healthy rather than toxic, needs more sharing of perspective and less imposition of opinion.
What do you think?
Wayne Gustafson
“The Promised Land is within and among you.”
One answer to the question is cynicism. Hardly anyone believes that others are telling the truth about their own experiences. Every communication is suspected of being a manipulation. It's as if the name of the game has become who can tell the biggest lie in order to get someone else to believe the way you want them to believe.
It becomes a conundrum. If I can't believe that anyone is telling the truth, then I am stuck with drawing conclusions based only on my own relatively narrow experience and perspective. Now, you might argue that people are still reading newspapers, still buying books on political and social themes, still listening to talk radio. That is so. But I have come to recognize a personal temptation regarding the sources of my information. I tend to prefer reading and listening to people who already see the world pretty much as I do. This is not a useful policy. While it might feel supportive of my personal opinions, if I restrict myself that way, how am I going to learn anything?
One way to continue learning is to distinguish “point of view” and “perspective” from opinion. If I simply state my opinions, that is to say, my conclusions about an issue, then you have plenty of reason to tell me that I am entitled to my opinion, but you don't agree with it. If, on the other hand, I offer a perspective, then I am giving you something useful. I am sharing that this is what the situation looks like from where I stand. If you see things differently, we need not immediately conclude that one of us is right and the other one wrong. We will be able to recognize that the differences are related to the difference in our perspectives. Then we can learn something! Opinions are mutually exclusive, while perspectives can be added together. When perspectives are shared, then everyone has opportunity to see more broadly.
I suggest to you that our community, if it is going to be healthy rather than toxic, needs more sharing of perspective and less imposition of opinion.
What do you think?
Wayne Gustafson
“The Promised Land is within and among you.”
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Healthy Communication for Healthy Community
“Community of Promise” plays with the idea of the Promised land being more about Quality of Community than about geography. So what constitutes a healthy community experience. Modern political culture identifies characteristics like order and prosperity as the most significant factors. A couple of years ago, I preached a sermon about Jesus' time of temptation in the wilderness. As I looked at the nature of his temptations, it appeared to me that Comfort, Safety, Power, and Status were the potential barriers to his ability to fulfill his destiny in the world. But an individual's personal experience of comfort, safety, power, and status is not at all the same as a community's experience. Is it perhaps not enough, then, for individuals to seek these things. What do they look like from the perspective of community?
Remember that these are temptations, which means that there may be other, deeper, values that are necessary for communities to be healthy. One of these is broadly practiced compassion. What distinguishes compassion from pity-based charity is understanding. And understanding can only develop in relationships by means of communication.
In my counseling practice, I meet with many couples whose stated therapeutic purpose is to improve their communication in the relationship. When I ask them to define their understanding of communication, they usually tell me that they want to be able to get their point across better to their partner. I try to teach them that the most useful foundation of communication is not the ability to speak more clearly (although that has its legitimate uses). The most useful foundation is the ability to listen deeply, respectfully, and openly.
Perhaps you recognize that too often our practice of listening attempts to support the beliefs we already carry about the other person. Open listening recognizes that this other person is a brand new creation today, so we commit ourselves to hear what is new, perhaps what is in the process of being born in the other. When that kind of listening happens throughout a community, the foundational needs of the community become clearer.
So if “The Promised Land” can be defined by quality of community, then careful listening to one another determines the eventual structure of particular communities. And each resultant healthy community provides the individuals in it greater opportunity to get what they really need.
In the wilderness, the Children of Israel needed to be a healthy community so that they could survive, and perhaps even thrive, in what they perceived to be a hostile environment. Their growing focus on Comfort, Safety, Power, and Status as they neared their destination actually got in the way of their ability to experience healthy community, perhaps because it broke down their practice of mutual compassion.
How much do our present day individualistic desires for Comfort, Safety, Power, and Status get in the way of our community, too.
“Community of Promise” gives at least one perspective on this question. I invite you to read it.
Wayne Gustafson
“The Promised Land is within and among you.”
Remember that these are temptations, which means that there may be other, deeper, values that are necessary for communities to be healthy. One of these is broadly practiced compassion. What distinguishes compassion from pity-based charity is understanding. And understanding can only develop in relationships by means of communication.
In my counseling practice, I meet with many couples whose stated therapeutic purpose is to improve their communication in the relationship. When I ask them to define their understanding of communication, they usually tell me that they want to be able to get their point across better to their partner. I try to teach them that the most useful foundation of communication is not the ability to speak more clearly (although that has its legitimate uses). The most useful foundation is the ability to listen deeply, respectfully, and openly.
Perhaps you recognize that too often our practice of listening attempts to support the beliefs we already carry about the other person. Open listening recognizes that this other person is a brand new creation today, so we commit ourselves to hear what is new, perhaps what is in the process of being born in the other. When that kind of listening happens throughout a community, the foundational needs of the community become clearer.
So if “The Promised Land” can be defined by quality of community, then careful listening to one another determines the eventual structure of particular communities. And each resultant healthy community provides the individuals in it greater opportunity to get what they really need.
In the wilderness, the Children of Israel needed to be a healthy community so that they could survive, and perhaps even thrive, in what they perceived to be a hostile environment. Their growing focus on Comfort, Safety, Power, and Status as they neared their destination actually got in the way of their ability to experience healthy community, perhaps because it broke down their practice of mutual compassion.
How much do our present day individualistic desires for Comfort, Safety, Power, and Status get in the way of our community, too.
“Community of Promise” gives at least one perspective on this question. I invite you to read it.
Wayne Gustafson
“The Promised Land is within and among you.”
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