The Courage Prayer

Blessed God, I believe in the infinite wonder of your love. I believe in your courage. And I believe in the wisdom you pour upon us so bountifully that your seas and lands cannot contain it. Blessed God, I confess I am often confused. Yet I trust you. I trust you with all my heart and all my mind and all my strength and all my soul. There is a path for me. I hear you calling. Just for today, though, please hold my hand. Please help me find my courage. Thank you for the way you love us all. Amen.
--- from Jesus, December 3, 2007

A=Author, J=Jesus
Showing posts with label Essenes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Essenes. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

JR62: Seventh & Final Step: Remove the Thorn in Jesus' Flesh (That Would Be Paul)

A: We've talked a lot on this site and on the Concinnate Christianity blog about the differences between your teachings and Paul's teachings. Many readers will say there's not much evidence in the Bible for the differences you and I claim. What would you say to Progressive Christians who want to "have their Jesus and keep their Paul, too," who want to make you, Jesus, more credible, without actually giving up any of their cherished Pauline doctrines?

J: They make me look like a dweeb, to be honest. An ineffectual, wimpy, turn-the-other-cheek kind of guy.

A: Which you were not.

J: They say they want to save me from the fundamentalist Christian right and the secular humanist left, yet they're forcing me to sit down at the Tea Party table with Paul, which is the last place I want to be. I'm a middle of the road social democrat, and I believe with all my heart and soul that a society can't function in a balanced way unless rights and responsibilities are given equal weight in all spheres of life. Paul was a man who taught about rights, rights, rights and not nearly enough about responsibilities. He and I had very different values.

A: Paul talks about punishments.

J: Yes. Paul talks about divine punishment and divine testing. He talks about his freedom -- his right -- to speak with divine authority. He talks about the need for self-discipline. He talks about divine rewards. But, you know, when you look carefully at what he's written, he doesn't speak to the soul of his listeners. He doesn't challenge them to see each of their neighbours as a separate person worthy of respect. Instead he does the opposite: he encourages them to see themselves as non-distinct members of a vast "body of Christ." Paul, instead of insisting that people build solid interpersonal boundaries -- which are the foundation of safety and respect and mutuality between individuals -- tells people to dissolve those boundaries. It sounds good on paper, but "Oneness" does not work in reality. If you encourage the dissolution of interpersonal boundaries, you'll see to your horror that the psychopaths in your midst will jump in and seize that "Oneness" for themselves. They won't hesitate to use it to their advantage.

A: Because they have no conscience.

J: Humans (as well as angels on the Other Side) are all part of One Family. But this isn't the same as saying humans are all "One." As anyone who comes from a big family knows, respect for boundaries is the grease that keeps you from killing each other.

A: It can be tricky to manoeuvre all the boundary issues in a big family.

J: Yes. You need all the brain power you can muster to stay on top of the different needs of different family members.

A: Spoken like a man who came from a big family.

J: When you're the youngest son in a family with three older brothers and two sisters (one older, one younger), you catch on fast to the idea of watching and learning and listening to the family dynamics so you don't get your butt kicked all the time.

A: It's real life, that's for sure.

J: That's the thing. It's real life. It's not about going off into the desert to live as a religious hermit. It's not about living inside walled compounds or hilltop fortresses. It's about living with your neighbours and learning to get along with them through communication and compromise and empathy. It's not fancy, but it works.

A: The Gospel of Mark makes this message very clear.

"Then he ordered them to get all the people to sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups of hundreds and of fifties. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before the people; and he divided the two fish among them all. And all ate and were filled" (Mark 6:39-42). Photo of hills in the Cotswolds, UK. Credit JAT 2023.

 

J: Christians have long assumed that the author of Luke truly believed in my teachings and was trying his best to convey them in a fresh way to a new generation of believers. Luke, of course, had no interest in my teachings, and was instead trying to promote Paul's package of religio-political doctrines. This is seen most obviously in the so-called Great Omission -- the complete absence in Luke of Mark's most important theological statement. Luke cut and pasted many parts of Mark's gospel, and thereby changed their meaning. But he didn't even try to include the dangerous theology found in Mark 6:47- 8:27a. He ignored it and hoped it would go away.

A: Why? Why did he want it to go away?

J: Mark's gospel, as we've been discussing, was a direct rebuttal of Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians. Paul wrote first, and in the middle of his letter he included 3 linked chapters on freedom and conscience, authority and obedience, sin and salvation, as these themes revolve around food -- idol meat and, more importantly, the blood and bread of Christ (1 Cor 8:1-11:1). We can call this set-piece the "Idol Meat Discourse." In this set-piece, Paul makes a number of claims about God that Mark, following my example, found particularly galling. Mark countered these claims by writing his own 3-chapter set-piece (Mark 6:30-8:26). I'm going to call Mark's set-piece "the Parable of the Idol Bread." This was Mark's head-on attack against Paul's Eucharist.

A: Mark didn't support the sacrament of the Last Supper?

J: Mark knew that Paul's speech about sharing in the blood and body of Christ (1 Cor 10:14-22) was a thinly veiled Essene ritual, the occult Messianic Banquet that had grown out of earlier, more honest offerings of thanks to God. I rejected the notion of the Messianic Banquet, with its invocation of hierarchy and status addiction. Mark rejected it, too.

A: Right before Mark launches into his Parable of the Idol Bread, he includes an allegorical tale about a banquet held by Herod and the subsequent beheading of John the Baptist (which we know didn't actually happen).

J: Yes. Mark uses a lot of sophisticated allegory in his gospel. (Plus I think the less loving aspect of him wanted to see John's head end up on a platter, which is where he thought it belonged.) Mark leads up to his set-piece -- which, of course, is an anti-Messianic-banquet -- by tipping off the reader to an upcoming inversion of religious expectations. He's telling them not to expect Paul's easy promises and glib words about "Oneness." He's telling them to prepare themselves for an alternate version of Jesus' teachings about relationship with God.

A: What was that alternate version? 

J: It was a radical vision of equality before God, of inclusiveness and non-Chosenness. It was a vision of faith without status addiction. Of faith and courage in numbers. Of freedom from the slavery of the Law. The love of a mother for her children (including our Divine Mother's love for her children!). A relationship with God founded on trust rather than fear. The healing miracles that take place in the presence of love rather than piety. The ability of people to change and let go of their hard-heartedness (ears and eyes being opened). The Garden of Eden that is all around, wherever you look, if you're willing to see and hear the truth for yourself. The failure of both the Pharisees and the Herodians to feed the starving spiritual hearts of the people. The personal responsibility that individuals bear for the evil things they choose to do. The importance of not idolizing the words of one man. (There's no lengthy "Sermon on the Mount" in Mark as in Matthew; in fact, there's no sermon at all, let alone a set of laws carved on stone tablets!)

A: That's a lot to pack into three short chapters.

J: This is why I refer to Mark's set-piece as a parable. As with any properly written parable, the message isn't immediately obvious. You have to use all your heart and all your soul and all your mind and all your strength in order to suss out the meaning.

A: I noticed when I was doing my research papers for a New Testament exegesis course that the setting of Mark's Parable of the Idol Bread is crucial. Not one but two major teaching events with miraculous endings take place out in the middle of nowhere near the Sea of Galilee. There's no proximity to important sacred sites such as Jerusalem or Jericho or the Dead Sea or the River Jordan. There's no Greco-Roman temple or Jerusalem Temple. There's no holy mountain. There's no sacred stone. There's no palace or patron's villa. But there's a lot of green grass, with enough room for everybody to recline in groups (as in a Roman banquet) and share the event together.

In the middle section, in Chapter 7, Mark shows you leaving Galilee to carry out more healing miracles, but these healings take place in Gentile areas -- everywhere but the sacred site of David's city. You can tell Mark doesn't think too much of Jerusalem's elite.

J: Mark had a scathing sense of humour, much like Jon Stewart's. When he wrote his gospel, he was thinking of it as a parable and a play at the same time. He wanted the actions of the actors to speak to the intent of the teachings.

A: Actions speak more loudly than words.

J: Yes. He wanted people to picture the actions, the geographical movements, that changed constantly in his story but never went close to Jerusalem in the first act of his two-act play. His Jewish audience would have understood the significance of this.

A: Tell me about the Idol Bread.

J: The meaning of the bread in Mark's parable makes more sense if you look at the Greek. In Mark's parable, and again at the scene of the so-called Last Supper in Mark 14, the bread in question is leavened bread -- artos in the Greek -- not unleavened bread, which is an entirely different word in Greek (azymos). Mark shows me constantly messing with the bread and breaking all the Jewish laws around shewbread and Shavuot bread and Passover bread. At the teaching events beside the Sea of Galilee, the bread is given to the people rather than being received from the people in ritual sacrifice. It's torn into big hunks. It's handed out to everyone regardless of gender or rank or clan or purity. It's handed out with a blessing on a day that isn't even a holy day. Nobody washes their hands first. Everyone receives a full portion of humble food. Everyone eats together.

A: If the fish in this parable are a metaphor for courage and strength (see http://jesusredux.blogspot.com/2011/05/marks-themes-of-understanding-and.html ) then what does the bread represent?

J: Artos -- which is very similar to the Greek pronoun autos, which means "self" and, with certain prepositions, "at the same time; together" -- is a metaphor for the equality of all people before God. Everybody needs their daily bread regardless of status or bloodline or rank. It's about as status-free a symbol as you can get.

A: Something tells me that got lost in the Pauline translation.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

JR36: Saying 56 in the Gospel of Thomas

A: When we wrote last time ("Father of Lights, Mother of Breath"), I ran out of time, and we didn't get a chance to return to the question of Saying 56 in the Gospel of Thomas. I was hoping we could continue that discussion. (For the record, Stevan Davies translates Saying 56 as "Jesus said: Whoever has known the world has found a corpse; whoever has found that corpse, the world is not worthy of him.)

J: I can't help noticing the irony of a person who's "alive" having a discussion with a person who's "dead" about the question of "alive versus dead."  

A (rolling eyes): Very funny. I prefer to call you "molecularly challenged."  

J: Hey -- I left some bones behind when I died. Traces of them are sitting in a stone ossuary in a warehouse owned by the Israel Antiquities Authority. Kinda reminds me of the final scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark.  

A: The IAA can have them. I somehow doubt you're going to be needing them again.  

J: Well, you know, there are still people on the planet today who believe in the concept of bodily resurrection on the Day of Judgment. According to that way of thinking, I might actually need to retrieve my bones so I'll be complete on the final day of judgment.  

A: Hey! You're not supposed to have any bones. According to Luke, you ascended bodily into heaven -- at least once, maybe twice! (Luke 24:51 and Acts 1:1-11). Prophets who are "beamed up" aren't supposed to leave body parts behind. That's the whole idea.  

J: Nobody gets out of a human life "alive." At some point, the biological body reaches its built-in limits, and the soul returns to God in soul form. There's no ascension. Never has been, never will be. Luke is lying.  

A: Maybe Luke just didn't understand the science of death. Maybe he was doing his best to explain something he didn't understand. 

J (shaking his head): Luke was lying. On purpose. If Luke had been sincere and well-meaning -- if misguided -- he would have to stuck to one story about my ascension. But one man -- the man we're calling Luke -- wrote two scrolls together to tell one continuous story. He wrote the Gospel of Luke and the Acts of the Apostles as a two-part story. The Gospel finishes in Bethany, the hometown of Lazarus (who was the subject of a miraculous healing), and the last thing we hear is about is the disciples. Apparently, they obediently returned to Jerusalem to continually pray. 

A: Yeah, like that was gonna happen. 

A major problem for the spread of Pauline Christianity among Jews and Gentiles was the Eucharistic ritual instituted by Paul. A lot of people didn't like the idea of ritualistically eating the flesh and drinking the blood of a divine being. So one of Luke's jobs, when he wrote the two-part Gospel of Luke and Acts of the Apostles, was to soften the impact of it for newcomers, while preserving Paul's occult meaning for those who were "in the know." What you see at the end of Luke's Gospel and the beginning of Acts is a slyly written (and entirely fictitious) account of twelve men who are "chosen" for the special privilege of receiving the Cloak of Glory from the Holy Spirit after they've properly prepared themselves for 40 days in the presence of the mystical body of Christ. They eat from the mystical body in order to purify themselves for the coming baptism of fire on Pentecost. Then, on the appointed day, the twelve (well, thirteen, if you count Paul's later baptism of fire) suddenly receive the intense fire of Glory that Luke says was promised to the twelve by God through Jesus. After that, nobody is allowed to challenge the authority of the apostles. Please note that if you're having trouble following this narrative in its established biblical form, there's a good reason for that: the secret knowledge wasn't meant to be easily understood by everyone. Interestingly, though, the themes of this secret knowledge have been found in other religious traditions, too. For instance, in this photo of the Tantric Buddhist deity Acala, "the Immovable One," he is braced by the fiery tongues of phoenix flame -- much like the fire delivered to the apostles at Pentecost. Who doesn't like a really good bonfire when Divine Power is the prize? This wooden sculpture is on display at the British Museum. Photo credit JAT 2023.

 J: Meanwhile, when you open up the book of Acts, which picks up where Luke leaves off, you get a completely different story from the same author. In Acts, he claims that after my suffering I spent 40 days with my chosen apostles in Jerusalem, and then was lifted up by a cloud from the Mount of Olives (which is just to the east of Jerusalem's city walls). The Mount of Olives is closer to Jerusalem than Bethany, the "authentic" site of my so-called Easter ascension in the Gospel. Luke also adds two mysterious men in white robes to the Acts version of the story. These two sound suspiciously like the two men in dazzling clothes who appear in Luke's account of the tomb scene (Luke 24:4). Luke is playing fast and loose with the details -- an easy mistake for fiction writers to make. 

A: Well, as you and I have discussed, Luke was trying very hard to sew together the Gospel of Mark and the letters of Paul. Mark puts a lot of focus on the Mount of Olives -- a place that was most definitely not Mount Zion, not the site of the sacred Temple. Luke probably needed a way to explain away Mark's focus on the non-sacred, non-pure, non-holy Mount of Olives. 

J: You wanna bet the Mount of Olives was non-pure! It was littered with tombs. Religious law dictated that no one could be buried within a residence or within the city walls, so it was the custom to bury people in the hills outside the city walls. To get from the city gates of Jerusalem to the top of the Mount of Olives, you had to pass by a number of tombs and mausoleums. If you got too close to death, though, you were considered ritually impure, and you had to go through a cleansing and purification process once you got back to the city -- especially during a big religious festival. Mark's Jewish audience would have understood this. They would have wondered, when they read Mark, why there was no concern about contamination. They would have wondered why the Mount of Olives became the site of important events when the purified Temple precincts were so close by. It would have defied their expectations about death and purity and piety.  

A: This was easier to understand when the Temple was still standing.  

J: Yes. It would have made a lot of sense in the context of Herod's humongous Temple complex. It started to make less sense, though, after the Romans destroyed the Temple in 70 CE.  

A: A fact that Luke took advantage of.  

J: Yes.  

A: Mark doesn't include the saying from the Gospel of Thomas about corpses (saying 56), but Mark's portrayal of you shows a man whose least important concern is ritual purity -- not what you'd expect at all from a pious Jew, in contrast to Matthew's claim about you (Matthew 5:17: "Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished.")  

J: Matthew says this, but Mark says the opposite.  

A: Not in so many words, but by showing your ongoing choices and actions. 

J: Later Christian interpreters wanted to believe that God had given me special powers over demons and sin and death, and this is how they understood Mark's account of my ministry. But this isn't what I taught. I didn't have the same assumptions about life and death that most of my peers had. It's not that I had special powers over life and death -- it's simply that I wasn't afraid of life or death. I wasn't afraid to "live" and I wasn't afraid to "die." I wasn't afraid to embrace difficult emotions. I wasn't afraid to trust God. Maybe to some of the people around me it seemed that I had special powers, but I didn't. All I had was maturity -- the courage to accept the things I couldn't change, the courage to accept the things I could change, and the wisdom to know the difference.  

A: The Serenity Prayer.  

“My friends, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:2-4). Photo credit JAT 2017.

J: Yes. It seemed to me that Creation is much more like a rainbow than like night-versus-day. It seemed to me that the world I lived in was not "evil" and "corrupt," as many occult philosophers had said. (Including the Jewish sect of Essenes.) Yes, there were corpses, it's true. People died. Other creatures died. Beautiful flowers died. But obviously death led to new life, and wasn't to be feared. Death wasn't the enemy. Fear of the self was the enemy. Fear of trusting God, fear of trusting emotions such as love and grief, were the obstacles between individuals and God. To get over those fears, you have to face your initial fears about death -- about "corpses." You have to begin to see the world -- Creation -- in a new, more positive way, and accept -- even love in a sad sort of way -- the corpses. You have to stop spending so much time worrying about your death, because it's gonna happen whether you like it or not, and no religious ritual can stop it. Accept that it's going to happen, then focus on what you're doing today. Focus on the Kingdom of today. Build the love, build the relationships, build the trust. Physical bodies come and go, but love really does live on.  

A: Some people might take that as an endorsement of hedonistic behaviours or suicidal behaviours, since, in your words, death isn't to be feared.  

J: There's a big difference between saying "death isn't to be feared" and saying "death is to be avidly pursued." If you avidly pursue death, it means you've chosen to avidly reject life -- the living of life to its fullest potential. Trusting in God means that you trust you're here on Earth for a reason, and you trust that when it's your time God will take you Home. What you do with the time in between depends on how you choose to view Creation. Is God's Creation a good creation, a place of rainbows where people can help each other heal? Or is God's Creation an evil "night" that prevents you from ever knowing the pure light of "day"? 

A: What about those who've chosen to view Creation as an evil place of suffering, and are now so full of pain and depression that they can't take it anymore? What happens to those who commit suicide?  

J: God the Mother and God the Father take them Home and heal them as they do all their children. There is no such thing as purgatory or hell for a person who commits suicide. On the other hand, our divine parents weep deeply when families, friends, and communities create the kind of pain and suffering that makes people want to kill themselves. There would be fewer tears for everyone if more human beings would take responsibility for the harmful choices they themselves make.  

A: And learn from those mistakes. 

J: Absolutely. It's not good enough to simply confess the mistake. It's important to confess the mistakes, but people also have to try to learn from their mistakes. They have to be willing to try to change. They have to let go of their stubbornness and their refusal to admit they're capable of change.  

A: Easier said than done.

Monday, March 28, 2011

JR28: Paul's Easy Salvation

A: You've said that Paul's Temple teachings were very different from your own Kingdom teachings -- so much so that when your great-nephew "Mark" read what Paul had written in the letter called First Corinthians, he blew a gasket and started work on his own version of your teachings. Why was Mark so upset about Paul's Temple teachings?  

J: Mark knew that one of my basic teachings had been about the Jerusalem Temple and the stranglehold the Temple and its priests exerted on regular Jewish people. It was much the same equation as Martin Luther faced when he decided to go public with his rejection of Papal and Vatican corruption in the early 1500's. Luther didn't reject the idea of faith in God -- far from it. But he rejected a number of official claims made by the Church. He thought the Church was no longer representing the ideals of true Christian faith. So he protested. 

A: This was part of the beginning of the Protestant Reformation.  

J: Yes. But Luther was protesting from within the Church, not from outside it. He was an Augustinian monk and priest, highly educated and highly devout. He held a doctorate in theology. So he wasn't easily dissuaded from the idea -- once he saw it -- that the Church wasn't "practising what it preached." I had the same problem with the Jerusalem Temple and the priestly hierarchy in my time. Once I saw the problem, I wasn't easily dissuaded. Much to the chagrin of my aristocratic family. 

A: You've said your mother was descended from the priestly bloodline. That must have given your family a lot of status, a lot of authority. 

J: My family was somewhat on the fringes of the power and authority that priestly families were entitled to. This was partly due to the fact that my mother's line wasn't descended from the "first son of the first son." We were related to the "junior sons," so to speak -- pretty good as far as pedigrees go, but not "the best of the best." Another factor was our geographical location. I wasn't born and raised in Jerusalem -- one of the hotbeds of Jewish political intrigue. I was born and raised in the city of Philadelphia, on the other side of the River Jordan. It was a Hellenized city, but also quite Jewish in its cultural norms, so I was raised with a strange mix of values and religious teachings. That's what allowed me, when I reached adulthood, to be more objective about trends in Jewish thought -- by that I mean the blend of religious, political, cultural, and social ideas that were intertwined in people's hearts and minds. I was far enough away from the Temple -- physically and geographically -- to be sceptical about the grandiose claims being made by the Temple priests.  

A: In the Gospel of Mark, it's quite apparent what the author thinks of the Temple. Mark shows you visiting all sorts of Jewish and Gentile locations to teach and heal, but the one place you don't visit till the end is Jerusalem. Things start to go badly for you as soon as you get to David's city. This is a strange claim to make if you're trying to promote the idea that Jesus is the prophesied Saviour of the Jewish people.  

J: Well, my great-nephew did think I was an important teacher, a rabbi who could help the Jewish people become free from oppression, but his understanding of my role was not the traditional Jewish understanding of who -- or what -- the Messiah would be. Mark was a very spiritual fellow -- a free thinking Jewish scholar who made his own observations and his own decisions. He got a little carried away, I think, with the idea that I was an important teacher, but on the whole he embraced my ideas about the Kingdom and did his best to live them. 

A: Mark wrote his gospel before the Roman destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE. 

“Jesus said: Grapes are not harvested from thornbushes, nor are figs gathered from thistles, for they yield no fruit. A good person brings forth good from his treasury; a bad person brings forth evil things from his mind’s corrupt treasury, and he speaks evil things. For out of the excesses of his mind he brings forth evil things” (Gospel of Thomas 45 a-b). The photo shows a marble Mithraic relief, (restored), from Rome 100-200 CE on display at the Royal Ontario Museum. The Mithraic Mysteries, in so far as we know what they entailed, showed uncanny similarities to the teachings of Paul. The teachings of Jesus, meanwhile, explicitly rejected the occult practices and secret rituals of mystery cults. Photo credit JAT 2017.

J: Yes. And this is an important detail to bear in mind. Paul and Mark both wrote their comments about the Temple before the Temple was physically destroyed. This fact is important to bear in mind, especially when you're trying to understand what Mark is saying. Mark was seriously -- and I mean seriously -- pissed off about Paul's "moveable Temple." For Mark, as for me, the only way to free the Jewish people to know God and be in full relationship with God was for us to confront the harm and the hypocrisy of the Jewish Temple -- a huge, bloated, phenomenally expensive physical structure that had robbed people of their livelihood through high taxes and ongoing dues, payments, sacrifices, and obligatory pilgrimages. Herod the Great spent a fortune -- a literal fortune -- on his building projects. His children continued his habit of profligate spending on status symbols to impress the rest of the Roman Empire. Meanwhile, the widows and orphans and foreigners we were supposed to look after -- according to Exodus -- were going hungry and selling themselves into slavery because of their poverty. This was unacceptable to me and to many others. I certainly wasn't alone in being outraged at the unfairness, the hypocrisy, the status addiction, and the corruption. 

A: Chapter 13 of Mark has long puzzled Christian scholars. It's viewed by reputable scholars such as Bart Ehrman as a "little apocalypse" because it seems to prophesy the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple. They use this chapter as part of their proof that you yourself claimed to be an apocalyptic prophet. How do you respond to that?  

J: Without wishing to be harsh, I'd say these biblical scholars need to refresh their memory on what the earlier Jewish prophetic books and Jewish apocalypses actually said about the role of the Temple in the prophesied End Times. It's clear that highly revered earlier writers such as First Isaiah and Second Isaiah and Zechariah believed the physical Temple on Mount Zion (i.e. Jerusalem) would be absolutely central to the ideal future restoration of Judah in the End Times. Yet Mark uses imagery from apocalyptic texts like Daniel to turn these predictions on their head. Mark 13 shouldn't be called the "little apocalypse": it should be called the "anti-apocalypse" because of the way it intentionally subverts and repudiates the prophecies of Zechariah. Mark may be attacking Paul's theology throughout his own gospel, but he uses well-known Hebrew prophecies to do it. Mark's own Jewish audience would have understood these references. They would have understood that Mark was openly attacking traditional Jewish teachings about the future End Times when God would one day return and "fix everything."  

A: Traditional teachings that Paul continued to endorse in his letters (1 Corinthians 15).  

J: Yes. Paul enthusiastically taught his followers about the coming End Times -- a traditional Jewish teaching in itself -- and on top of that he added a wonderful new theological guarantee. He promised people that if they gave themselves over fully to a belief in Christ, then God's Spirit would be able to live inside of them in the "Temple" (1 Corinthians 3:16-17; 6:19-20). Paul took the sacredness of the Jerusalem Temple and made it "moveable," an inner sanctuary of purity for the Spirit, just as the Essenes had already done in their Charter (1QS 3 and 1QS 8). He didn't try to undermine the importance and authority of the Jerusalem Temple. He actually added to it (as the Essenes had done) by elevating it to an inner mystical state that could only be known to true believers who followed Paul's teachings. This is a simplified version of Paul's Temple theology, but you get the picture. He's offering his followers the ultimate in "easy salvation." "You no longer have to go to the Temple; the Temple will come to you." 

A: And once you have the Temple, you can access all those spiritual goodies that Paul promises (1 Corinthians Chapters 2, 12, and 14).  

J: It's a theology that's very appealing to people who want all the benefits without doing the hard work.  

A: I've said it before and I'll say it again -- your teachings are much harder to stick to than Paul's are. It's impossible to follow your recommendations for connection with God without making spiritual commitment a regular part of everyday life. Once a week on Sundays -- or twice a year at Christmas and Easter -- won't do it. You ask a lot of regular people.  

J: Only because I have faith in you. Only because I have faith.

Friday, March 25, 2011

JR27: Paul's "Temple" versus Jesus' "Kingdom"

J: Today I'd like to talk about the starting place for understanding the many differences between what I taught and what Paul taught. 

“Jesus said: I stood in the midst of the world. I came to them in the flesh. I found all of them drunk. I found not one of them to be thirsty. My soul was saddened by the sons of men for they were mentally blind. They do not see that they have come into the world empty and they will go out of the world empty. But now they are drunk. When they sober up they will repent” (Gospel of Thomas 28). Photo of Komombo Temple, dedicated to Sobek and Horus, Aswan, Egypt. Author Dennis Jarvis. Retrieved from Wikimedia Commons.

A: Sounds good to me.
 
J: I've mentioned before that Paul and I had different motivations, different purposes behind our respective religious movements.* One of the few things we had in common was a strong sense of conviction. Paul believed in his cause, and was willing to argue for it. I believed in my cause, and was willing to argue for it. We both had strong opinions. We just didn't have the same opinions.
 
A: Part of Paul's cause involved arguing against your cause.
 
J: Definitely. Paul rejected -- even feared -- my teachings on the nature of the Kingdom. He was sure my Kingdom teachings would lead to anarchy. Widespread civil and social disobedience. His fears were shared by others.
 
A: Why was he so afraid?
 
J: Well, Paul, like so many others then and now, had allowed his brain to become focussed -- riveted -- on the perfection of Divine Law. Of course, he thought it was Divine Law he was giving all his time, energy, and devotion to, but really it was human law, human authority. He didn't see it this way, though. He convinced himself that he was doing the right thing in aggressively attacking me because he was protecting Divine Law. He believed that Divine Law justified -- gave sanction to -- his actions.
 
A: Where have I heard that before?
 
J: Rigid, perfectionistic thinking is a symptom of imbalance and dysfunction in the wiring of the biological brain. It's common in bullies throughout the world.
 
A: Paul spends a lot of time in his letters telling the people of his churches that they don't need to follow Jewish laws on food and circumcision. If he believed so much in the law, why was he dissing it? It doesn't make sense.
 
J: It makes perfect sense if you understand that Paul wasn't trying to protect the "praxis" laws of regular Jewish people -- laws about "petty little daily practices," as he saw them. To him these minor practices were nothing, they were of no consequence. He wasn't interested in the small stuff, the things that matter to regular people on a day to day basis. He was after the big stuff. The End Point. The Omega. The be all and end all. He was after the Power.
 
A: What power?
 
J: The power that he and many others close to him believed was woven into the fabric of Creation. The power to command the universal Law of Cause and Effect.
 
A: That sounds seriously creepy. And not even very Jewish.
 
J: Well, as we've talked about, there were different schools of religious and philosophical thought that used the sacred Hebrew texts, and these schools fought fiercely among themselves. In the 1st century CE, there was no agreement on what it meant to be a pious Jew, just as today there's no agreement on what it means to be a pious Christian. Most people forget that there was a civil war among Jews in Judea in the 60's CE. Sure, the Romans came in eventually and torched everything in Jerusalem. But before the Romans sent in their troops, the Jews were doing a fine hatchet job on themselves. This mood of dissension among Jews was already brewing when I was teaching and healing in Galilee. It's part of the reason I left my home in Philadelphia (modern day Amman) and went to Galilee. There was a measure of religious sanity that still existed there.


 
A: The Bible claims that Paul was a Pharisee.
 
J: In Philippians Chapter 3, Paul is very clever about the claims he makes for himself. He says that according to Jewish laws of bloodline, he's a member of the tribe of Benjamin. Big deal. Lots of people could make that claim. He says that according to prevailing Jewish customs around religious authority, he's a Pharisee -- a sort of rabbi/lawyer/teacher who deserves to be treated with respect for his religious knowledge. Then comes the clincher: he says that according to "zeal" (zelos in Greek) he was an early persecutor of the church and according to "righteousness" he was blameless in his actions against the church. When Paul talks about "zeal" and "righteousness," he isn't talking about "beliefs" or "opinions." He isn't saying he was just really enthusiastic or really committed. He's saying he had "the zeal" inside of him. He's saying he had a piece of Divine Law inside of him, a spark of God inside of him that was guiding him, commanding his thoughts and actions. He's saying he was a "vessel of humility" into which God had poured the divine substance called "zeal." Zeal is a kind of love, therefore -- a love for the Law. Devotion to the Law. Obedience to the Law. Adoration, even, of the Law. It sees the Law as a quasi-divine being. Sort of an embodiment of the Divine desire for orderliness in Creation. More than just a philosophical structure. An animated, conscious entity, if you will. Wisdom -- Sophia -- was also envisioned in this way as a semi-divine female being.
 
A: Plato talked about the Laws in this kind of weird anthropomorphic way.
 
J: Yes. And so did the Essenes. The Essenes were very much a fringe cult within Judaism. They had the most highly developed mystical rituals, the most "out there" beliefs about God and Creation and occult magic. They were also highly devout, highly wealthy, and highly powerful. They were a scary bunch. And Paul was greatly influenced by Essene teachings about God, the Spirit, the indwelling Temple, and occult ritual.
 
A: Would you say that Paul was an Essene? An accepted member of the yahad?
 
J: No. He wasn't teaching pure Essene thought. But he was influenced by their thought. He also had strong links to another important school of thought that's harder to track. He blended ideas from Essene thought and Hellenistic thought to create his "new and improved" version of the Law of Cause and Effect. By the time he began his "mission to the Gentiles," he was no longer interested in mainstream Judaism, with its focus on Mosaic Law. He'd "moved up" on the spiritual ladder of ascent, on that ever so narrow and hard-to-find ladder of spiritual hierarchy. He'd found an enticing and intoxicating blend of occult magic and hidden knowledge -- the kind of hidden knowledge reserved only for a few select apostles. He was drunk on the idea that this new knowledge would lead him to power -- power over evil entities.

A: What evil entities?

J: The corrupted versions of Law and Wisdom and Life -- their "evil twins."

A: Their evil twins? This is sounding like some of the "contemporary horror" dramas that are so incredibly popular in books and movies and TV shows these days.
 
J: Same old, same old. It's just a dysfunctional, distorted version of the Law of Cause and Effect when taken to occult extremes. It goes like this: "Well, if there's a Perfect Law, a semi-divine being who brings only virtue and righteousness to people of virtue, then, logically speaking, there must be an evil twin of Perfect Law -- a powerful semi-divine being who sows vice and corruption in the world." It's a nice, neat, simple mathematical formula to explain why evil exists. Sons of Light versus Sons of Darkness, as the Essenes clearly formulated it. What could be easier to understand?
 
A: It's so easy to see what you're saying by looking at Paul's Letter to the Romans. Romans is filled with paranoid, dualistic, judgmental thinking. Paul tells people in gory detail how they can fight the evils of Law, Sin, and Death, and overcome these evil cosmic forces through the power of Christ's name.
 
J: Yes. For Paul, Mosaic Law had become the evil twin of the pure Essene Temple Law. Sin was the evil twin of Wisdom (implying by analogy to Wisdom's femaleness that Sin was also female). And Death was the evil twin of Life. Paul called this evil trinity Law, Sin, and Death.
 
A: On my God. That makes a ridiculous amount of sense. It explains how Paul could go around telling people they wouldn't die if they believed in Christ -- a promise that soon proved to be a lie, because some of Paul's followers had already died, and he had to answer for it in his letters.
 
J: It's popular these days for theologians to make excuses for this kind of apocalyptic promise, excuses based on the naive assumption that people in the 1st century CE "just didn't know any better" and "can't be blamed for believing in salvation from death." This, I'm sad to say, is hogwash. No balanced, mentally healthy individual is going to accept the idea that human beings can escape physical death and continue to live for centuries on Planet Earth the way their mystical forebears had (e.g. Methuselah). It's just goofy. It's what Paul promised his followers in the beginning of his mission, but it's goofy. In his Letter to the Romans, he has to go through huge theological contortions to try to salvage people's belief in him. It's a pretty sad way to go, if you think about it.
 
A: Promises, promises.
 
J: You know what works best in the Gospel of Mark? The fact that there are no "Cause and Effect" promises. Everything's messy. Everything's unpredictable. Shit happens, but so what? It can't take away your courage or your faith or your trust in God or your desire to help other people. Even shit can be turned into very useful fertilizer.
 
A: So your Kingdom is about turning shit into fertilizer, and Paul's Temple is about the quest to stop shitting at all?
 
J: And you say I have a way with words!


* Please see also "Materialism, Pauline Thought, and the Kingdom" and "Mark's Themes of Understanding and Strength"
 

Monday, March 14, 2011

JR21: Saying 67 in the Gospel of Thomas

A: Okay. Here's another pretty big question for you. Stevan Davies translates Saying 67 of the Gospel of Thomas as "Jesus said: One who knows everything else but who does not know himself knows nothing." Was this saying central to your teachings? Was it an important theme for you?
 
J: Yes. I tried very hard to express this idea. I tried to express it in many different ways.
 
A: Similar ideas have been taught by many spiritual leaders over the centuries. In fact, it's almost a spiritual cliche. It's so easy to say, "One who knows everything else but who does not know himself knows nothing." But what exactly does it mean?
 
J: It means you have to know who you actually are as a soul -- "the core you" that's left after you strip away all the false, damaging prejudices and religious doctrines and abusive teachings of your family and culture. It means you have to love, honour, and respect the person you are when you remove all the weeds from the garden of your biological brain. It means you have to trust that when you pull out all the weeds, there's still going to be something left in there. You have to trust that when you pull out all the weeds, you won't be left with a barren patch of lifeless dirt. Instead you'll be able to see the flowers of your soul -- the lilies of the field -- for the first time.

"Happy are those who make the Lord their trust, who do not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after false gods. You have multiplied, O Lord my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you. Were I to proclaim and tell of them, they would be more than can be counted. Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, but you have given me an open ear. Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required. Then I said, 'Here I am; in the scroll of the book it is written of me. I delight to do your will, O God; your law is within my heart'" (Psalm 40:4-8). Photo credit JAT 2014.  
 

A: I take it you're not too fond of the image of Creation in Genesis 2:7: the Lord God forming Adam from dust and then breathing the breath of life into his nostrils so he'd become a living being.
 
J: I don't like the Christian interpretation of this verse. The Bible has many references to human beings as dirt or clay or potters' vessels. Clay is nothing more than a kind of dirt that can be shaped, moulded according to the creator's will. The message that's repeated again and again is that human beings are malleable in the way that wet clay is malleable. Wet clay starts out as a lump. It can be turned into any shape imaginable (as long as the laws of physics and chemistry aren't broken). You can make a plate. You can make a bowl. You can make a large urn. You can make a small storage container. A complex sculpture. A string of beads. Clay is like that. You can make whatever you want. Many people -- pious Pauline Christians especially -- believe that God intends human beings to be like clay. They believe that each person is basically a lump of malleable clay. Based on this belief, they assume that God can reshape each individual in any way God chooses. It's the idea of neuroplasticity taken to absurd extremes: "I can be anything God wants me to be if only I try hard enough to surrender to God's will!!!" How often have you heard a sanctimonious preacher say that?
 
A: It's a popular Christian idea.
 
J: It was a popular idea with many Essene and Hellenistic philosophers in my time, too. It's an idea that makes it very easy for religious leaders to blame people in their flock for "not trying hard enough." It makes it very easy to accuse regular people of being "weak". To accuse them of falling short of true faith. To make them feel guilty for "letting God down." To point fingers at them and say they're filled with sin. These teachings are spiritually abusive.
 
A: You're talking about the bread & butter of fundamentalist and evangelical Christians.
 
J: And fundamentalists of other faiths, too.
 
A: You're saying, then, that the doctrine of malleable clay is factually incorrect. That Genesis 2:7 is wrong in its portrayal of human beings.
 
J: I'm saying the Second Creation story (Genesis 2-3) has been completely misread. In fact, both Creation stories in Genesis have been misunderstood. Obviously (without apologies to any Creationists who might read this) there is no literal truth to Genesis 1 or Genesis 2-3. On top of that, the metaphorical truth doesn't say what Christians believe it says. Human beings are not malleable lumps of clay. They can't be shaped by God or by anyone else into something they're not. You can't force a woman to become a man (though some people would like to try). You can't force a gay man to become straight (though some Christians would like them to try). You can't force a musician to become an engineer (though sadly many parents have tried. And tried and tried and tried.) God the Mother and God the Father don't make souls this way. Souls aren't malleable. Each soul has a unique identity, a unique blueprint, a unique set of talents and traits and strengths and absences of strengths. Souls are like snowflakes -- no two are alike. You can't take what God the Mother and God the Father made and "fix it." You can't turn a bowl into a plate. You can't turn a sculpture into a wind chime. You are who you are. It's true that you may not know who you are. It's true that you may not know whether you're a bowl or a plate or a sculpture or a wind chime. But your soul knows. And God knows. Between you -- between you and God -- you can uncover your own true soul identity.
 
A: I like the garden metaphor better. I'd rather discover what kind of "flower" I am. I'm not sure I really want to "see" myself as a set of dishes in the kitchen cupboard.
 
J: I hear ya. Nature metaphors are much more natural, much more helpful. That's why I used so many images from nature in my teachings. There's a natural resonance, a natural harmony between the images of nature and the soul's own language. The soul "gets" nature imagery. The soul doesn't mind being likened to trees or flowers or fruits. Or the totems of Indigenous North American tradition. It helps human beings to have a nature metaphor of their own soul. An image to help them "see" themselves as God sees them.
 
A: If I were a tree, what kind of tree do you think I'd be? (Not that I'm saying I'm literally a tree . . .)
 
J: You'd be a yew. A tough, gnarly yew. That reminds me a lot of you.
 
A: Yeah? Okay, well that makes sense to me. I even really like yews. Always have. Nobody's gonna believe this when I say this, but to me, you're most definitely a magnolia. A big, showy magnolia. And damn but you wear it well! Of course, if the shrivelled up hearts of the pious Pauline Christians had their way, you'd be a bleeding, suffering, miserable, ugly thorn bush.
 
J: What? No burning bush? No branch of Jesse? No grafted grapevine? No olive tree? I think I'd make a particularly fine Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Don't you?
 
A: You're such a cynic.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

JR16: Riddles in the Gospel of Thomas

A: This morning I was looking through my somewhat dusty copy of The Gospel of Thomas*. In the notes by translator Stevan Davies, I found this statement about the 113 original sayings: "The correct interpretation of the sayings is not the final goal but the means to the goal, the discovery of the Kingdom of Heaven. Thomas's Gospel is an exercise book, a list of riddles for decoding. The secret lies not in the final answers but in the effort to find the answers (page 2)." How would you respond to that? 


“Jesus said: The Kingdom of the Father is like a merchant with goods to sell who found a pearl. The merchant was thoughtful. He sold the merchandise and bought himself the pearl [Gospel of Thomas 76A].” Jesus’ sayings about pearls are difficult for us to understand today because pearls are fairly common and inexpensive. In Jesus’ time, however, pearls were exceedingly rare and couldn’t be faked or counterfeited by clever human beings. Finding a pearl in the Mediterranean was no easy task, either, as most shells brought up through the risky diving process contained no pearls at all. So to randomly find a miraculous pearl was a sign of God’s blessing and truth, a far more valuable gift than the usual man-made goods. From a theological perspective, the merchant decides to set aside his “earthly treasures” and buy into God’s economy, where the benefits are sure and lasting and unrivalled in their beauty. It’s also important to note the merchant makes his choice voluntarily. No one forces him into it. (Shown here is a 17th century pomander made of gold, enamel, and pearls. It's on display at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, UK. Photo credit JAT 2023.)

J: Well, the way these sayings have come down to modern readers certainly makes them seem like a list of riddles for initiates to decode. There's no doubt that most Christians today are confused by the sayings found in the Gospel of Thomas. Many earnest attempts have been made to interpret the sayings. The problem for today's commentators is that they -- the commentators -- lack context. They don't understand the context in which I spoke the sayings, or the context in which John the Baptist wrote down the sayings. Most Christian commentators are also desperately trying to make the Gospel of Thomas fit comfortably within the traditional orthodox Christian framework. Since the traditional orthodox Western framework is based on the teachings of Paul, rather than on my teachings, it's a tall order to try to force the Gospel of Thomas into an orthodox understanding of God.  

A: Yes. I know what you mean. People seem to want to read the Kingdom of Heaven sayings in a traditional eschatological way. They want the Kingdom to be about a future time, a future place. They want the Kingdom to be the special heaven that's close to God, the place where God's specially chosen people will end up on Judgment Day.  

J: An idea that's very old, in fact. And not restricted to orthodox Christianity, either. The Essenes of my day believed deeply in both eschatology and apocalyptic visions of the future End of Days. 

A: How widespread were those Essene ideas?  

J: The people I was teaching seemed to know a lot about the Essene prophecies for the coming End Times. Of course, that's not surprising, since John the Baptist was part of our teaching circle.  

A: You say that John the Baptist wrote down the sayings found in the Gospel of Thomas. Yet biblical scholars have remarked on the fact that there's no congruence between the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of John. The sayings found in Thomas appear frequently in the Gospels of Mark, Matthew, and Luke. But not in John. If John wrote down the sayings collected in the Gospel of Thomas, why don't any of those sayings appear in his later writings? 

J: As I mentioned a few days ago, John and I had a complicated relationship spread over several years. When I first sought out John, I was the student and he was the teacher.  

A: Even though he was only 18 at the time? 

J: Lifespans were much shorter then for most people. It wasn't unusual for young adults to take on great responsibilities. If they waited too long to get on with life, they might be dead. So yes -- there were teachers who were quite young. What mattered in John's case was his education, his mastery of the material. It was clear he was highly trained in Jewish religious texts. Who was going to argue with a guy who had memorized big scrolls like Isaiah and could recite them verse by verse?  

A: How old were you when you first met John?  

J: I was older. About twenty-three, twenty-four. By that time I'd been married, divorced, had lost my daughter to illness, and had spent about a year at a Hellenistic "medical school." I was so old in heart and spirit that I felt about 50. I was also half bald by then. Probably from all the family stress I was under.  

A: I can see how it would have been appealing to sit under a tree and talk about God with other like-minded people.  

J: Yes. I was an emotional wreck. And, like so many other people whose lives have been torn apart by tragedy, I needed answers. That's why, when I heard about John's amazing new teachings, I sought him out.  

A: What was your initial impression of him? 

J: He had this serene, otherworldly quality about him, as if he was above all the turmoil and tragedy of the world around him. When you asked him a question about current life, current realities, he always answered with a religious verse. He was so confident that all the answers could be found in the holy texts. 

A: What did he look like?  

J: He was a big man. Very tall, very robust in stature. I'd use the word "hearty." Hearty as in big, friendly, strong, salt of the earth. Not polished. Not sophisticated. Homespun and down to earth. I thought he was wonderfully natural in comparison to the elegant Hellenistic Jews I'd grown up with.  

A: Again, I can see the appeal.  

J: His voice was a rich baritone. He'd been trained in the arts of speaking and rhetoric, that was for sure. He understood cadence, rhyme, repetition -- all the tricks of persuasive speech. He was always throwing in bits and pieces of wisdom -- small, apt phrases and wisdom sayings. It made him sound very wise. Until I started to notice he had no original thoughts of his own. He could recite ancient wisdom sayings, but he couldn't process new ideas, new insights. That was part of the mental illness that was slowly simmering on the back burner of his mind.  

A: He kept saying the same things over and over.  

J: Yes. Also, he couldn't seem to learn from his own mistakes. Or from the mistakes of others. That was his narcissism. His narcissism got in the way of his ability to admit he'd made mistakes. 

A: Eventually you overtook him in the role of teacher in your group. Is that right? 

J: The group started to fracture. He had his own loyal followers, who insisted he was still the leader, the long-prophesied Jewish Messiah. Some of the group began to listen to some of the new things I was saying about God. I was actually saying something new about God. John was not. People split down the lines of "belief in tradition" versus "belief in change." Those who believed in change payed less and less attention to John. He hated that.  

A: Describe his reaction to your teachings and in particular to your healing ministry. 

J: When I first started doing some teaching, John didn't mind. He believed at first that I was mimicking his own wisdom, that I was "copying" him. I was tentative at first. I stuck to fairly traditional teaching methods, such as short wisdom sayings. I created some new sayings -- nothing too radical at first -- and John liked these. He wrote them down when they appealed to him.  

A: Did he claim these sayings as his own?  

J: He was having trouble separating his own thoughts and feelings from other people's thoughts and feelings. There was a blurring of boundaries. When he heard me speaking these things, he believed I was somehow transmitting his own thoughts. Broadcasting them. This is a typical symptom of schizophrenia, although these days people with delusions more often believe the TV or radio or Internet are broadcasting their thoughts.  

A: So he identified with those sayings?  

J: Yes. If you pay careful attention to the tone of the Thomasine sayings, you'll see that he picked all the sayings that are vague and somewhat cliched.  

A: Like traditional wisdom sayings that were widespread in the Ancient Near East.  

J: Yes. He picked the short, pithy phrases that resonated with his early training, his early education. Phrases that sound wonderful at first, but say nothing specific. No names, no dates, no places. Lots of metaphors. More poetry than anything. Feelings without facts. Sort of . . . dissociated. Otherworldly. Detached. Serene. But not very helpful when you have difficult questions you want answers for.  

A: There's a marked lack of context in the sayings from the Gospel of Thomas. They could have been written almost anywhere by anyone. There's a quality of "timelessness" to the book. And I don't mean that in a good way. I mean the tone is kind of spacey, kind of "out of it." Not fully engaged with reality or with life. 

J: That's how John came across. It was a sign of his major mental illness, and shouldn't be mistaken by others as wisdom. No one who's suffering from schizophrenia should be placed on a religious pedestal and labelled "wise." People suffering from schizophrenia need firm, compassionate care, not reinforcement of their delusions. 

A: Mental illness was not understood 2,000 years ago. 

J: Well, as with all things, that depended on the person. Not all people then believed that psychotic behaviour was a sign of demon possession, just as not all people believed that physical infirmities were a sign of divine judgment from God. Cultural ideas about mental illness usually dictate how a mentally ill person is treated by the majority. But there's always a minority who understand mental illness to be just that -- an illness. You can't blame everything on cultural ideas. Just because the majority of people in my culture believed in demon possession was no excuse for them to go with the "status quo" on these illnesses. There was plenty of solid science, solid scientific research at the time. In fact, there was more interest in solid scientific research then than there would be in Europe for many years. So I have no sympathy for the attempts made by Christian theologians to excuse the cruel treatment of the mentally ill that appears in the Bible. It wasn't acceptable then, and it isn't acceptable now. The author of Mark tries to make that point very clear. 

A: You know what's weird? I remember that when I first looked at the sayings in the Gospel of Thomas -- some years before I set out on my path of becoming a mystic -- I felt very stupid because I couldn't make hide nor hair of the wisdom that seemed to be hidden in the sayings. They felt like riddles I couldn't solve. Just as Stevan Davies says in his notes.  

J: And now?  

A: Now most of the sayings make perfect sense to me -- but only because I fully understand the religious and social and medical context in which they were spoken. You know, there's actually some pretty good stuff in there if you know what to look for.  

J: Thank you.  

A: Hey. No worries. You can spend the next umpteen years fleshing out those sayings and explaining in more detail what you meant way-back-when.  

J: I look forward to it.

 

* Stevan Davies, Translator. The Gospel of Thomas. Boston & London: Shambhala, 2004.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

JR12: A Divine Love Story

A: You know, for the past two weeks I've been doing a lot of research on the Dead Sea Scrolls, and after wading through the English translations [Wise, Abegg, and Cook]* of the Essene's own teachings, I'm sick of them. Just sick of them.

Beauty. Photo credit JAT 2014.

 
J: Sick of the teachings? Or sick of the Essenes?
 
A: I'm sick of the teachings. And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to go to dinner with anybody who believes in these teachings, either. The writings are so . . . so self-centred and narcissistic. So full of themselves. So full of hot air. They don't say anything moderate or balanced about our relationship with God. They're full of cliches and bluster and prophecy and big long strings of fancy-sounding words. But where is the love? There's no love in them -- no kind, respectful, trusting, compassionate, inclusive love. It's just narcissistic bullshit. Did I say that already? I think I said that already.
 
J: Don't forget paranoid. The teachings are also very paranoid. 
 
A: Yeah. Enough with the evil Belial, for God's sake! Enough with the final battle where the pure and virtuous Essenes will lead the armies of Light to victory! Get a life, people.
 
J: Or Pauline Christianity.
 
A: Say what?
 
J: If they don't want to get a life, they could always get some serious, heavy-duty evangelical Christianity. Evangelical Christianity doesn't say much that the Essenes didn't say within their own brand of Community Rule.
 
A: Yeah, well, I'm not feeling the love from evangelical Christianity, either. Again, lots of narcissism, not so much trust in God. I can't believe what these people are saying about God! 
 
J: Which people? The Essenes or the Pauline Christians?
 
A: Both. I'm not seeing a lot of difference between them, as you've pointed out. This is not what you've taught me about God. I don't see any resemblance at all. I don't see any resemblance between your teachings and Paul's teachings, or your teachings and John's teachings. This is crazy! How did orthodox Christianity get so far from the truth?
 
J: I hate to sound like a broken record, but, again, it's the mental health issue. My teachings have no appeal for narcissists. Or psychopaths.
 
A: Because there's no "fuel" for status addiction. Narcissists and psychopaths suffer big-time from status addiction.
 
J (nodding): And as for people suffering from psychotic illnesses . . . they're not in a position to take full control of their thoughts and feelings. They can't. The illness interferes with their thinking and feeling processes. So they're filled with fear and paranoid thoughts even before you add the religious paranoia. They can also suffer from narcissism on top of those biologically confused thoughts and feelings, as John did. But the main point is they're not mentally or emotionally well, and their writings -- if they write about spiritual or religious topics -- always reflect their inner mental state. The writings of a person suffering from a psychotic illness sound psychotic. You have to step back from their writings and ask yourself . . . would an adult human being with a clean bill of health as far as the DSM-IV is concerned -- and taking into consideration the psychopathy that the DSM-IV writers left out for bizarre reasons -- would a non-paranoid, non-manic, non-depressed, non-psychotic, non-substance-addicted person write this? Is this writing the reflection of a person in a highly stressed mental state? Is this writing the reflection of a person who understands what compassionate love is? Is this writing the reflection of a person who understands what it means to trust in God's goodness? Because let's be honest -- a person who writes all the time about the devil or Belial or whatever you want to call this imaginary evil entity is showing that he or she does not trust in God's goodness. How can anybody say they trust wholly in God, then turn around and say God is too weak to prevent the existence of a devil? You can't have it both ways.
 
A: Orthodox Western Christianity says you can. And another thing --
 
J (starting to chuckle):
 
A: Yes, I'm on a rant this morning. I'm sick of the way these writers -- the Essenes and Paul especially -- talk about women. I'm sick of the way they've just gone ahead and eradicated the Divine Feminine from everything. I'm sick of their pompous warrior-king Messiahs and I'm sick of their divinely appointed male priests and I'm sick of their testerone-soaked jockeying for the best places at the table. Me, me, me. Look at me -- I'm special! That's all these people can talk about. For religious people who claim to be serving God humbly and piously, they sure spend a lot of time bragging about their own status and putting other people down. Have you read what the Essenes say about people with physical infirmities and imperfections [IQSa]? It's just plain cruel!
 
J: The difference between humbleness and humility. You and I have talked about that a lot.
 
A: It wasn't very humble of early teachers such as Second Isaiah or the redactors of Genesis to go ahead and do a hatchet job on God the Mother -- to just slice her out of the story of Creation. Even the Greeks, for all their crazy Homeric myths, had the sense to include strong female archetypes in their pantheon. Anybody with half a heart can see that Creation -- the world of beauty and wonder and mystery all around us -- is a Love Story. It's a testament to the love shared by God the Mother and God the Father for each other, a record of their journey of love, growth, commitment, struggle, and faith. It's a gigantic love story. That's what you've taught me. That's what I feel myself. It's a painful story, but a truthful one. Everything around us talks about the importance of relationship, the importance of balance. How can religious people look at the world and see a Judeo-Christian Covenant? How can they think "it's all about them"?
 
J: Narcissists always think it's all about them. It's how they view the world -- through a very small lens of "I." Me, myself, and I. It doesn't matter whether or not they're religious. The issue isn't one of spirituality or faith or God. It's simply a matter of biological brain health. Sadly -- broken record again -- it's about the human brain and how people use the brain God gives them.
 
A: I notice that God gave women brains, too. You'd think that would count for something in the grand religious scheme of things.
 
J: Not to mention the thorny reality that 75% of the human sex chromosomes are X chromosomes -- female chromosomes, not male. I'm thinkin' that's probably an important "Post-It Note" in the biologist's Book of Creation.
 
A: I'm so glad I was raised in a family where I was taught that men and women are equal in terms of their intellectual gifts and in terms of their right to be treated with dignity, respect, and equality. Thanks, Mom and Dad!
 
J: I'll second that. I wouldn't be able to talk to you this way if your human brain hadn't developed along the lines of dignity, respect, and equality. That's what the relationship between God the Mother and God the Father is all about -- dignity and respect as the basis of their mutual love and trust, despite their respective differences in temperament and talent and size. As above, so below. When human beings live according to the values and principles of their beloved Divine Parents, they can feel the love of God coming into their daily lives. When they reject those values, their biological brains become like big pots of quivering jello -- lots of colour, lots of movement, but not much substance. It's fun to eat, but 15 minutes later, you're hungry again.
 
A: They feel empty inside when they reject the core values of the soul.
 
J: Which is all very confusing when it's their time-honoured religious traditions that insist they reject their soul's own values. They're taught by their religious leaders to reject divine notions of equality amongst all life, to reject balance, to reject symbiotic relationships -- to reject all mutuality. Then they complain because they can't feel God's love. They complain they've been abandoned by God. It's a crock. It's not God who's abandoned them. It's they who have abandoned God. They usually don't realize that this is the cause of their feeling of inner emptiness. They think their religion is helping them fill the void. But unless they have an unusually mature, unusually intuitive religious leader, their church services are just making the inner bowl of jello bigger. There's no substance because there's a lack of will, a lack of courage, to teach the truth about God.
 
A: The truth that God is the God Who Is Two, not the God Who Is One. And not the God Who Is Three, if you're a Trinitarian.
 
J: It's a simple truth, seen everywhere in Creation. There's no relationship when it's only "me, myself, and I." Relationship MUST begin with two. It can involve more than two -- and, in fact, the angelic community of God's children is so large, so much bigger than two, that I can't give you a number that's meaningful to the human brain.
 
A: Bajillions?
 
J (smiling): Yes. bajillions of angels, both male and female. But no matter how many angels exist within God's family, it's still about relationship. It's still about people -- angels -- knowing each other, respecting each other's uniqueness, respecting each other's differences, working together in a symbiotic way to make a "whole" that's much larger than the component "parts." The sense of Oneness that people long for in their relationship with God isn't a sense of losing themselves in the infinite Mind of God. It's the sense of Oneness that comes from combining your strengths with the strengths of your brothers and sisters towards a common goal. It's not Oneness of identity. It's Oneness of Purpose. It's Oneness of Commitment. It's family. It's people with differences coming together to work as a Team to create something much bigger than each could create on his or her own. That's what Divine Love feels like.
 
A: Habitat For Humanity. It feels like the charity called Habitat For Humanity. Where groups of committed people volunteer their time and their skills to help build safe, affordable housing for families.
 
J: Exactly. It feels just like that. Everybody has different talents. Some are good with plumbing. Some are good with woodworking. Some are good with designing. But all the talents are needed, and no one talent is more important than another. Everybody's got a job to do, and everybody's job is important.
 
A: Especially the guy who makes the coffee. Ya gotta have your coffee breaks while you're busting your butt to get a job done.
 
J: Even angels take coffee breaks.


*  Wise, Michael, Martin Abegg Jr., and Edward Cook, trans.  The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation.  New York: HarperCollins–HarperSanFrancisco, 2005.