JR56: Forgiveness As a Present Reality

A: Tell me more about forgiveness. The other day you said, "Divine forgiveness is not settlement of a debt. Debt doesn't enter into the equation. Education, mentorship, and personal responsibility enter into the equation, but not debt." (http://jesusredux.blogspot.com/2011/07/meaning-of-son-of-man.html ) You and I have talked a lot about forgiveness, but you've never linked it to the Peace Sequence before. Can you explain in more detail what you meant?  

J: I'm going to introduce a comparison between forgiveness and catalysts (as catalysts are understood by a chemist). At a quantum level, forgiveness acts as an important "biochemical" catalyst for learning.  

A: Okay, you're gonna have to back up the divine truck on this one. 

J: In everyday speech, people use the word "catalyst" to mean a person, thing, or event that prompts sudden change. In Western culture it's often an unexpected tragedy that serves as a catalyst for change. For instance, if a child is killed because a newly designed toy isn't safe, the people around the child are shocked into action. Chances are good that an inquiry will be held, and healthy and safety regulations will be amended to remove this particular threat. The catalyst for change was a tragic event that jarred people out of their complacency and forced them to be more honest about a quantifiable, measurable threat to children's safety.  

The factual reality of the toy's dangerous design existed before the tragic death. The threat itself wasn't new. What was new was the realization of the threat, the objective recognition of the threat, the memory of the threat. In other words, human beings had to learn about the threat. They had to identify the problem, remember the problem, understand the problem, then fix the problem. These are the stages of learning. As it happens, these are also the stages of emotional healing and spiritual transformation. They're all hopelessly intertwined with each other.  

A: Identify, remember, understand, and fix. That's a pretty logical sequence. What happens if a person tries to skip one of those steps? I'm thinking in particular of the "remember" stage. I've met quite a few people who seem to have really bad memories. Important information goes right in one hear and out the other. And these are fairly young people I'm talking about, not elderly people with dementia!  

J: Those who can't remember their own history are doomed to repeat it.  

A: I remember a fellow we were corresponding with a few years ago about the spiritual journey. He was quite incensed because you and I had suggested that an understanding of science was important to spiritual growth and transformation. He wrote somewhat angrily, "Do I have to have a degree in physics?" And your reply was, "No, you have to have a degree in history." He probably thought you were being facetious. 

“Jesus said, ‘ I shall give you what no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, what no hand has touched, what has not arisen in the human heart'” (Gospel of Thomas 17). The mysterious gift Jesus is talking about here is Divine Forgiveness, a gift freely given by God to all people at all times without any restrictions or covenants placed upon the gift. Shown here is an example of an inuksuk, which reminds me of what forgiveness is actually like (simple, memorable, beautiful, accessible by all, able to be built by all). Inuksuit have long served to aid full remembrance in Canada’s Far North. They’re now found widely throughout Canada. This one sits among flowers and metal artwork at an Ontario public school. Photo credit JAT 2015.

J: I wasn't. I was speaking the honest truth. Memory -- history -- is crucial to the core self. Memory is a huge part of learning. By that I don't mean simple rote memory, such as your multiplication tables. I mean soul memory, which is a combination of several different forms of memory. It's emotional memory plus factual memory plus habit memory plus talent memory.  

A: That's a lot to keep track of at one time. Sounds like too much work. 

J: Soul memory evolves quite naturally when a child is raised in a mature, responsible, loving home. It becomes a natural way of remembering things. You don't consciously think about the different aspects of your memory. You just . . . live. You live with empathy and laughter and confidence. It's your soul memory that helps you do that.  

A: So you're linking empathy with memory.  

J: Yes. It's your memory skills that allow you to remember the names of your neighbour's children so you can ask how the family is doing. 

A: Ooooooh. I suddenly can think of a gajillion different ways that memory can help with empathy and relationships. Things like remembering your friend's favourite music or your mother's favourite flower. Or the anniversary of a loved one's death. Or remembering to pick up a carton of milk on the way home, as promised. Or remembering to say "I love you." And on and on and on.  

J: What's interesting about people with severe narcissism and psychopathy is the way they use memory. They use memory and history in bizarre, abusive ways. They often have excellent memories when it comes to the mistakes that other people have made (though they rarely admit to their own). They remember all the "crimes" that have been committed against them, and they keep detailed lists of rightful punishments that still need to be meted out.  

A: They hold grudges.  

J: With a capital "G." They live for the "high" of revenge. Inside their own heads, they'll return to the scene of another person's "crime" and relive the unfairness and unjustness of it all. Then they'll imagine the scene of their revenge. They'll gloat about it. They'll gloat about the glory of their future -- and rightful -- vengeance. There's no concern at all about collateral damage -- about the people and places that will be damaged when vengeance is pursued. The only thing that's important to a psychopath is the chance to "even the scales."  

A: Sounds like a Mel Gibson movie.  

J: Forgiveness, on the other hand, is not about buying back one's status or paying a debt or "balancing the scales of time" so the past can be forgotten. Forgiveness absolutely requires a memory of the harm that's being forgiven.  

A: You said above that forgiveness is a catalyst. How does this idea relate to what we've been discussing about memory and learning and empathy?  

J: In chemistry, a catalyst is a substance that's an essential ingredient in a chemical reaction without itself being changed and without itself being part of the final product or products.  

A: Inorganic chemists use elements such as palladium and rhodium as catalysts so they can synthesize complex molecules out of simpler ones.  

J: In chemistry, a catalyst works the way a crane works on a large building site. The crane is essential for transporting loads of basic materials to their proper location on the much larger building that's being constructed. But once the building is completed, the crane is removed from the site. It's no longer needed. It can be "recycled" -- used on another building site because it isn't part of the final product. Its role is essential but temporary. This is what forgiveness is like.  

A: Still not following you. Especially because you've said in the past that forgiveness is a permanent choice -- a permanent choice to wrap harmful choices within a layer of love.  

J: Forgiveness, like the construction crane, is a permanent "substance," if you will. But like a crane, it moves around. It isn't glued to one site or one event or one person. It goes in, does its transformative thing, then lets go. Forgiveness allows you to identify, remember, understand, and fix the past without actually having to live in the past. It frees you from the tyranny of rumination on the past. It doesn't ask you to forget. It asks you to transform. It asks you to take the pain and turn it into something new. Forgiveness isn't the final product of the transformative process, despite what some theologians have claimed. Forgiveness is the tool -- the catalyst -- that's needed so you can take painful experiences and painful choices and turn them into something brand new.  

A: The way orthodox Western Christian theologians often describe forgiveness makes it sound like the end goal, the final result of being saved by God. 

J: God the Mother and God the Father are always moving the crane of forgiveness. They're always actively and consciously choosing to forgive their human children for the suffering people create. Forgiveness is a present act -- always a present act, not a future one. Just as the Kingdom of the Heavens is supposed to be a present condition, not a future one. 

A: I've read so many books where teachers of spirituality insist that we "live in the moment." Is this what you're getting at? Letting go of the past and the future and focussing only on the present moment?  

J: No. Most definitely not. The phrase "living in the moment" all too often means "living in a state of dissociation." Living in a state of psychological dissociation from one's emotions, memories, and personal responsibilities. Obviously this doesn't help individuals or families or communities create peace. To create peace, you have to be willing to learn from the past. You have to be willing to identify the problems of the past, and then marshal all your courage and will power and love to get to the point where you can remember the pain without being overwhelmed and numbed by the pain. In other words, you have to learn from your mistakes.  

A: Learning from your own mistakes is very hard. Self forgiveness is very hard. 

 J: In the ancient Greek myth of Sisyphus, the man Sisyphus is condemned by the gods to spend all eternity rolling a large stone to the top of a hill, only to watch it roll back down again each day. This aptly describes what it feels like to live without forgiveness. Each day feels like an eternity of repetitive struggle, an endless cycle of guilt and pain you can't seem to escape from. Forgiveness, on the other hand, is the crane you bring in to build a series of small level shelves or steps on the side of the hill so you can gradually get the stone to the top of the hill and keep it there, where it will no longer torture you. With the boulder of the past safely stowed at the top of the hill, you can get on with the business of planting a nice garden at the base of the hill and inviting all your friends over to share in the beauty. The stone at the top is there to remind you of the mistakes you once made so you 're less likely to make them again. The stone isn't gone. But it's in a safer place.  

A: So in the Kingdom of the Heavens, the past isn't gone, but it's in a safer place. This allows you to bring more of your daily energy to the task of living as fully as possible today. 

J: You'd be amazed how much energy many people use each day by dwelling in the past, ruminating on past injuries, focussing on revenge, and not paying attention (literally) to the tasks and relationships of today. When I say "energy," I don't mean that metaphorically. I mean that people quite literally expend precious biological resources every day when they choose to focus on the past. They use up proteins and fats and carbs in their bodies. They force their brain cells to hang on to cell-to-cell connections that aren't productive. They refuse to let their brains empty the "recycle bin," and as a result, dangerous levels of old proteins and other biological materials can build up inside the brain. Causing medical syndromes such as various forms of dementia.  

A: So forgiveness isn't just a metaphysical aspiration: it's also a biological reality.  

J: As you'd expect it to be in the good Creation of a loving God.

JR41: City on the Hill: Saying 32 in Thomas

A: Okay. Back to some exegesis from the Gospel of Thomas. This morning my copy of Thomas* opened itself up to Saying 32: "Jesus said: A city built and fortified atop a tall hill cannot be taken, nor can it be hidden." 

Stevan Davies's notes on this saying, as usual, miss the point. Davies says, "This saying urges strength in defense while at the same time encouraging openness. You should not try to protect yourself by hiding your light, but at the same time you should be aware that attacks are likely. Ultimately you will be safe, above real danger, even if you expose yourself and your light to the world (pages 35-36)." 

Granted, there's not much context to go on here. This saying could be interpreted in a number of different ways. But I'm curious about your thoughts here. 

Model of the Acropolis of Athens, Royal Ontario Museum. Photo credit JAT 2017.

J: I'm wondering in what way Davies can argue that a person who shows their light is "above real danger." This is a reckless thing to say in view of the way reformers are treated in many parts of the world. Reformers need to know that attacks are likely, as you and I have discussed before. Reformers don't have a special magical cloak that's guaranteed to protect them from all harm.  

A: Obviously you didn't have such a magical cloak.  

J: No. And I didn't promise my followers one, either. It's a fallacy to suppose that a person of faith will be protected from all suffering and all harm. Shit happens. Shit happens to everyone. The question isn't how to be "above real danger." The question is how to recognize real danger and how to handle it when it arises. Davies's interpretation of saying 32 is pretty much the opposite of what I was trying to say.  

A: Davies is implying in his notes that the fortified city on the hill is a metaphor for a person who has uncovered the secret of the Kingdom. He's implying that knowledge of the Kingdom lifts a person above the fray. It kind of reminds me of the "shining city on the hill."  

J: Which tells you right off the bat it isn't something I would have said.  

A: You're not big on the idea of Temples on Sacred Mounts. 

J: No. I used metaphors from nature and peasant life to explain what the Kingdom feels like. By contrast, I used metaphors from the sphere of urban construction to explain what it feels like to be estranged from the Kingdom. Saying 32 is an attack on the people who choose to be like a fortified city on the hill. They choose to place themselves "above" other people. They choose to build walls around their hearts. Sure, everyone can see them up there, everyone can see their status. But they're walled off from their feelings, from their compassion. They're successful. They're proud of their walls. They love to be noticed for their accomplishments. But they have no heart. And they have no relationship with God. They've made themselves invulnerable to pain. And this means they've made themselves invulnerable to love. They're afraid of intense emotions, afraid of intense feelings like joy and grief and humbleness. They hide behind their walls and bemoan the cruel God who allows suffering. Meanwhile, they do nothing courageous themselves. They refuse to come out from behind their walls and engage in the task of coping in mature ways with the love and pain of living. They feel safe where they are, and they'd much rather blame God or other people for the emptiness they themselves feel inside. 

Surprising as it may seem, inner emptiness seems like the better choice -- the practical choice -- for the majority of human beings. For those who've endured years of abuse and trauma, it's often the only viable choice. They can't make it through the day if they have to think about the pain they've endured. So they try to stop thinking about it. 

 A: Yet the pain always expresses itself somehow. 

J: Yes. You can't escape the pain. When you repress it, it finds a way to reveal itself anyway. Playwrights and psychotherapists make their living from expounding this truth. The pain must be confronted and transmuted -- healed -- into something deeper and more positive. Otherwise it will ruin your life and probably the lives of the people you're closest to.  

A: This is what Viktor Frankl taught. The idea that you have to find purpose and meaning and the means to go forward despite the most traumatic experiences imaginable.  

J: A process that people need help with. If you don't have a mentor to help you struggle through the emotional complexities of loss and suffering and eventual transformation, you'll probably end up -- like so many people -- building gigantic walls around your heart. But there's a cost for doing this. The cost is your ability to love. 

A: You mean the person building the walls is no longer able to love.  

J: Right. They can't love themselves. They can't love their neighbour. They can't love their God. They can still function at a logical level, a practical level, but they wake up each morning and go to bed each night having no clear idea who they are or why they're here or why they feel so empty and miserable. Life feels like a chore to them. A duty. A punishment they must endure. They feel very sorry for themselves.  

A: I know a number of Christians who fit this bill. 

J: The real tragedy is that once a person has finished building his or her fortified city on the hilltop, he or she "cannot be taken" -- cannot let love in through the walls of logic and status. No amount of kindness or empathy or forgiveness or patience will breach the walls of intentional dissociation in another human being. You can't "fix" such a person from the outside. If they don't want to come out from behind their walls, you can't make them do it, no matter how hard you try.  

A: A lesson it took me years to understand.  

J: The person who is like the city "built and fortified atop a tall hill" is NOT "ultimately . . . safe, above real danger." Such a person IS the danger. She's a danger to herself, her neighbours, and her community.  

A: Why?  

J: Because she thinks she's in her right mind, in full control of all her thoughts and feelings and actions, but she's not. She's built a city of logic stone by stone, choice by choice, and she's happy with it. She likes being dissociated from her soul's own feelings. She chooses to live this way. But big chunks of her biological brain are miswired as a long term result of her intentional choices. She can't make balanced choices anymore. She can't because she's worked very hard not to make balanced choices. She believes she has all the tools she needs in case of emergency or real danger. But she doesn't have the brain tools she'll actually need in an unpredicted crisis. So she'll panic. She'll freeze. She'll think only of herself. Because that's what she's trained her brain to do.  

A: You're saying it doesn't have to be this way.  

J: I'm saying Darwin was dead wrong about survival of the fittest. The stupidest human beings on the planet are the ones who've made themselves into isolated cities on hilltops. And when I say "stupid" I don't mean temporarily foolish or poorly educated. I mean less functional and less able to grasp complex issues and act on them with common sense, compassion, and integrity. Including many individuals with PhDs. These are the people you don't want on your team when a genuine crisis hits. They'll stab you in the back without blinking when the going gets tough.  

A: Says the man whose own family and friends turned him over to the Romans when he made the going too tough . . .  

J: Damn straight.  

 

*For readers who haven't been following our posts about the Gospel of Thomas, I'm using a book translated and annoted by Stevan Davies. (Stevan Davies, The Gospel of Thomas (Boston & London: Shambhala, 2004.))

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.