On & Off the Road

What can we know (or think we know) about the nature of God? A correlative question would necessarily be (in light of my foregoing discussion) Can we accept the following hypothesis: “God is immutable, human comprehension of the nature of God is not”?

This is how I ended my last post over 2 weeks ago. I can’t say I’ve given it a lot of thought in that time. I had hoped for some comment, but none was forthcoming. So, I’ll answer my second question. Yes, I accept the hypothesis that God does not change, but human comprehension of the nature of God does, indeed, change.

Once we looked around, and we connected with a divine reality, we figured there must be many of them to explain the forces about us….

Then we began to allow that understanding to coalesce into the understanding that there was but one divine reality that explained all of them… But we weren’t yet ready to comprehend our own natures sufficiently, nor were we able to fathom something that was not essentially a grander us, namely we anthropomorphized our understanding of God… and the concept of the old man with flowing robes and a beard was born!

And on this old man, we placed our own faults and failings, while trying to declare him to be without faults and failings… so we contrived this concept of the angry God, wreaking vengeance and violence on the world on our behalf.

Our comprehension of the Divine paradigm changed, mutated to accept oneness. In time, some came to see that the divine paradigm was changing once again… this time to embrace a loving Divinity. And this space and my time are too finite to delve into the entire evolution of humanity’s understanding of the Divine.

So, what can we know (or think we know) of the nature of God?

I’ll throw out one or two things that I am comfortable in saying I know.

First, I’m comfortable with the notion/understanding that the Divine is ultimately responsible for the coming in to being of all creation… hence I’m comfortable in saying that this Divine Other CREATED all things. The method, however, of this creation is at this time incomprehensible.

Second, I’m comfortable with the notion that God is limited by God’s own Will. In other words, while God is not limited by external laws of nature or other forces imposed upon the Divine, God has chosen to impose upon God’s self, limitations.

So, thirdly, I can say I’m comfortable with the concept that God is Love, and the source of all Love.

Now, it’s your turn. Can you add to this list?

The Wanderer (yes, Jer, I was referring to you) posted a response on his blog yesterday, as well as commenting directly on my post. And his response and comment now, in turn, elicit a response from me.

First I want to clarify my comment about the immutability issue. I should have proofread my post more thoroughly yesterday, as I didn’t complete my thought. Here’s what I said:

For instance, one dogmatic statement comment to much of Christianity has to do with the concept of immutability. Namely, God is never changing, God does not change, and God cannot change, because God is all perfect. If we expect to accept that religion needs to change to meet new paradigms, what does that say about God’s immutability? That is something I think most people have a hard time getting around. While at this particular moment in time the most virulently opposed to religious change, the most reactionary, fearful and thus dangerous group with confronting this issue is Fundamental Islam. However, Fundamental Christianity and Fundamental Judaism is not far behind. Indeed, the fundamentalist sects of just about every single religious structure on the planet is facing these questions, and becoming dangerous as a result.

I don’t believe God changes. It’s perhaps one of the few of the bedrock dogmas of Christianity that I can accept. I acknowledge in my heart that the God of today is the God of Creation, the God of History, the God for tomorrow. What changes, what is far from immutable is how we as humans understand God, and perceive God’s handiwork in the world around us. The iconization and idolization of what many, if not most, Christians refer to as Holy Scripture retards the growth of human understanding by “plastinating” dogma at one point in time and denying us the ability to progress in understanding God. And progressing in that field of understanding is, contrary to common belief, a good thing. We have codified the cessation of spiritual growth by accepting a nearly 2000 year old definition of the concept of dogma. (Another clarification is needed here; I cannot address most Protestant understanding of the concept of Dogma, I can only speak for Catholic Dogma, and in that, Catholic Church holds that dogma is immutable.)

Secondly, I no longer look to the Roman Catholic Church to make progress in any field or endeavor in human understanding of the divine, as it is hopelessly locked in it’s idolization of itself. While some Catholic scholars may make progress in this regard, it is foolhardy, in my opinion, to expect that the magisterium of the Church will ever embrace their work. For this reason, I am now convinced that the Catholic Church is destined over time to decline in the western world to a state of utter irrelevancy.

Third, and finally (at least for THIS post) Jer asks in his comment to my previous post, “How do we proceed?”) My initial response is “What?!?! I only pose the hypothesis; don’t expect me to do anything about it!” But, actually Jer’s question is an interesting one, and one I’d like to explore. So, “How do we proceed?”

I think the process for working out for ourselves an understanding of What/Who God is begins with stating the basic question which will guide our considerations, followed by a supposition or understanding of the goal, then finally the posing of a question (or more).

I know that I am hardly the first individual to pose the questions in my previous post. In fact, those who read this post know that I have read some of Spong’s books and that Bishop Spong does indeed address much of this. But I’m uncomfortable with Spong’s assertions, and I’m even more uncomfortable replacing one icon with another. So, to the topic/hypothesis.

I believe that, for now, the question is simple: “Is God relevant to humanity in light of the phenomenal growth of scientific knowledge?”

The supposition on which I would build my process is that since human understanding of God is mutable, any results of the process are themselves subject to change over time, even the lifetime of those arriving at the results.

And finally the question to be posed as an initial understanding of the task would be a simple one. What can we know (or think we know) about the nature of God? A correlative question would necessarily be (in light of my foregoing discussion) Can we accept the following hypothesis: “God is immutable, human comprehension of the nature of God is not”?

(Note: Before I begin, I have a question for my fellow wanderer: Have I offended you, brother? Now, on to today’s post?)

I don’t know when it started. I suspected it began about the same time that the first human, or perhaps even human LIKE, person molded a clump of mud into a figurine and declared that it represented a god.

Whenever it began, for countless thousands of years humankind has asked ontological and metaphysical questions. Who are we (as in humankind)? Where’d we (again, humankind) come from? How did all we (ahem, see above) perceive come into being? There are numerous other questions of this nature, and someone has thought them. I suppose there are ontological and metaphysical questions yet to be conceived. I’m almost sure of it.

Anyhow, at some point in the far distant past, our ancestors stopped answering the “Where’d we come from” question with “From my parents” and reached back beyond that to the ultimate where’d the first one come from, or has this gone on forever? At some point, seemingly simplistic answers ceased to suffice. As early humankind put questions together to realize that there were NO simple answers, ontological and metaphysical thought processes began. (I guess this is a question for the philosophy of the history of philosophy studies?)

So, where’m I going with this. Simply that at some point one or more of those early philosophers came up with a concept of divinity.

Over time, millennia to be sure, groups of humans came to identify with a set of gods that could provide them with answers to those troubling questions. And, just as humankind evolved further, so the religions evolved into more and more complex schools of theological and philosophical beliefs.

Now, let me be clear, you have read I hope enough of my blog to know that in spite of early claims, I do believe in God. There is, in my opinion and belief structure, SOMETHING behind those religions.

What these religions did, and the reason they evolved, I believe, is that as humankind continued to think on the questions and their initial answers to them, as the thought itself became more and more refined, the practice as perceived also became more refined. Religion as it stood became less real, and needed to grow to embrace the new questions and the new perceptions of divinity.

I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I believe religion as we practice it is a constantly evolving construct. In millennia to come, assuming we avoid destroying our habitat through cataclysmic nuclear war or more slowly through environmental neglect, and assuming the environment doesn’t destroy (rebirth?) itself through natural causes (did you see “Supervolcano” on Sunday?), then in the coming millennia, religion and how we practice it will evolve into something we may or may not recognize.

As people of faith, and here I’m speaking of the philosophical theologians, both educated as such, and those lacking formal education, as these thinkers reflect on who and what God is in light of the expansion of knowledge they will see that religion itself cannot remain static. Religion, and the practice of it, must change to meet the new paradigms confronting it as scientific knowledge of the natural realm expands.

The precepts of Christian faith in it’s current configuration met the spiritual and religious needs of humankind for a time. But that may or may not be true any longer.

In the field of religion, humanity shows its nature to be fearful of change. We resist moving into new areas of thought because we have difficulty comprehending that dogma is not black and white, no matter how much we want it to be.

For instance, one dogmatic statement comment to much of Christianity has to do with the concept of immutability. Namely, God is never changing, God does not change, and God cannot change, because God is all perfect. If we expect to accept that religion needs to change to meet new paradigms, what does that say about God’s immutability? That is something I think most people have a hard time getting around. While at this particular moment in time the most virulently opposed to religious change, the most reactionary, fearful and thus dangerous group with confronting this issue is Fundamental Islam. However, Fundamental Christianity and Fundamental Judaism is not far behind. Indeed, the fundamentalist sects of just about every single religious structure on the planet is facing these questions, and becoming dangerous as a result.

In the “Children of the Book” world (Judaism/Christianity/Islam) I suspect that in the long run, the ones destined to have the most problem with change (and hence the most significant propensity to dangerous behavior) are the Christians. With Judaism and Islam, the question revolves around for them, who/what is God and what is to become of God in the new paradigms? Christians have to add to that Where does Jesus fit in? When the dust settles, whether in this century or in the next millennium, where will Jesus be in the economy of heaven?

When I confront this issue, I realize just what a complex task I’ve set myself, as I seek to answer these questions for myself. Because, even being open to the assertion that it MUST change, I fear the answer myself; I frequently doubt the hypothesis itself.

Sung to the tune, of course…. 24 little hours in a day.

I woke up a different person today than I was when I awoke yesterday. Okay, not really. But, yes, really. Okay, let’s face it… I believe we ALL wake up each day different in some way than the day before.

First off, let me back up a little. Last Friday I had to be taken to the local ER after I developed symptoms of lightheadedness and dizziness, feelings of constriction of my chest, some minor pain in my left shoulder, and numbness in my 3 left fingers of my left hand. The company’s EMT determined my BP was far too high for her comfort, and observed that I was beet red and that my ears “almost literally glowed”. Oh, and I just didn’t feel too well.

Well, the doctor at the ER didn’t think too much of my “issues”. He was pretty ho hum about it. By 4:15 I was released, with a “strongly recommended” admonishment to see my doctor.

So, yesterday I saw my doctor. I was expecting a little tsk, tsking and an increase in my medications once again. My oh my did my visit NOT live up to those expectations. First of all, he won’t increase the meds. Instead he’s insisting I see the electro-cardiology (like I’ve been thinking about doing) and has told me that I probably will have to have the ablation surgery. Okay, that didn’t make my day… even though I HAVE somewhat expected it.

But that was only the first of his pronouncements. The more significant one caught me way off guard. I have been diagnosed with Diabetes. That makes me not too happy. (Can you see the German reserve in me?) Daily finger pricks. I like pricks, let’s face it. But not THAT kind of prick. I’m trying to psych up for it with that old queeny stand bye: “Hurt me, oh yeah baby, HURT me!” But that’s not really helping.

********

What else? Hmmm…. Oh, on the subject of the Pope’s passing and funeral. I’ve been reading about this “Spiritual Last Will & Testament”. Got to thinking about it, and thought, Hmmm… Sounds like something I’d not mind doing. So I went out to the Internet and read a few samples.

Nope. Not going to subject you folks… or ME… to that. Ain’t gonna happen.

But the Pope’s passing has moved me. In death, and in the suffering he faced in the hours before death (I read a news item that interviewed his personal physician about those last hours that said in effect Yes, the pope had suffered greatly in those last hours… which is a whole ‘nother topic I may or may not write about) he showed great grace and dignity, and was I feel, an example for all of us. His desire to bear that in solidarity with his Savior was inspirational to me. In spite of all his other flaws.

I read this morning after the funeral (no, I haven’t watched it yet…. maybe later) a quote from a priest in Poland: “our Vatican umbrella has been taken down. We are now adults and must carry on with what we have learnt…” What an interesting statement… especially the last. “We are now adults and must carry on…”

That seems to be my primary problem with my RCC roots. The Vatican and more pointedly our bishops and archbishops see us just that way… as children. It’s time for us to become adults, not to rely so heavily on some centralized teaching authority. We… okay I… need to come to grips with the simple fact of my own previous posts. My reality is that God is Divine Other, indwelling in my own spiritual cathedral, my soul. I may soil that soul, but nothing will drive that Divine Other from me. It is up to ME to find that Otherness, not for the dogmatists of some distant ecclesial body with parental hangups to direct me in how, when and where to search.

Just as in Scripture and in everything else for that matter, the church, be it Roman Catholicism or my own UFMCC, may provide material of great worth for my journey, but it is TRULY for me to sample that material and decide for myself.

The fact is, God IS within me, and hence knowledge of that Divinity also resides within. To find the ultimate destination I must, finally, look to the vessel of the journey itself.

The Pope provided for me what is perhaps one of the greatest services by his example… the good and the bad… in finding that Otherness. Pope John Paul Magnus… yes, I believe that… set his eyes and followed his Shepherd. He fell far more than his church will ever acknowledge, but all of us do. His brokenness and failure to embrace ALL God’s Children hurt many of us to the quick… and beyond. He drove some of my fellows away from the Church, and worse, from the Divine Itself. And in that brokenness proved his own humanity. In living that brokenness and humanity, I think, is his final testament to his depth of spirituality and THAT is what I can glean from his time on Peter’s Chair. As he set his sight on Jesus, and followed to the best of his limitations the way of Jesus, I think he can provide for many of us an example of how WE can follow Jesus.

In May, 1996, I walked out the doors of St. Meinrad School of Theology with a Masters Degree for the last time. It marked for me the end of a process, the end of an epoch. Because when those doors shut, my 38 years as a Roman Catholic came to an end. I loved the Church, it had nurtured and cared for me through some very rough times, and through some beautiful times.

But for me, the path on which the Church had set itself was unsupportable. The words and policies of my own Archbishop had cut me to the core, had killed within me something precious. I could, I found, no longer practice as a Catholic with good conscience.

I professed a love for that institution, even as I walked away from it. Not considering myself to be a “Recovering Catholic” (a term I found, and find, offensive) I considered myself, instead, a Catholic in Exile… an exile from which I knew then, and know now, I would never be able to return.

As the years have passed, I’ve found a new church home, a new Church, “True” for me in the same way that the Catholic Church is True for it’s followers. As unjust edict after unjust edict spewed from the antiquated walls of the Vatican, I found myself hurt more and more. It came to a place, a time, when the thought of walking through the doors of a Catholic Church became unthinkable to me.

But through it all, I’ve held an abiding love for the man who has led that institution for all my adult life. I personally believe he will go down in the annals of the Roman Catholic Church as one of, if not THE, greatest popes of all time. And the history of the world will, I also believe, rank him as one of the greatest and most important leaders in the world in the last quarter of the 20th Century. I know in the last 20 years there are none who have had as much respect from the greatest number of people. Next to him the current fraud in the US White House is a pale shadow of a human; in stature, John Paul is a giant next to a toy soldier compared to the “Leader of the Free World” (Side note: Please, someone, help me stop laughing!)

It’s true, some of the documents and words that have hurt me the most have come from John Paul, or with his blessing. To me, though, that has proved nothing other than John Paul II is, above all, a human with all the failings that humanity suffers. I still see him as a deeply spiritual man, with a heart for Jesus that is huge. I believe he doesn’t see that his words are hurtful, that they are, in deed, wrong.

In a funny way, he is one of three people who keep my ties to the old RCC alive. With his passing, I know that that period of my life is truly over.

And so, as I watch the news, anticipating the worst with every minute, my heart breaks, my eyes tear, and my mind grieves for the loss of this great man. But to see his ongoing suffering wounds me even more.

So, Godspeed, Il Papa!

Gosh, I’m disappointed no one asked me about being chased by lions or by baboons or by a hippo!

I wonder why? Surely the fact that no one is reading my blog has nothing to do with it! Nah!!!!! That’s not it.

So, Mr. MineAllMine, won’t you please tell us (me and my friends here) one of your stories, please? Huh? Come on!!!!!!

Well, if you insist.

We were visiting Meru National Park. When I was a little boy, there was a movie about a lion named Elsa. This true story took place in Meru National Park. In real life, the savannahs of MNP were even more spectacular than in the movie. Mount Kenya towered in the near distance, it’s snow capped peak so close to the equator took my breath away. I can remember gazing at it in awe from our camp in the morning… I just can’t remember which direction it was from the camp, but I think it was north-east.

Okay, this isn’t one of the stories I intended to tell. I just came from doing a web search on MNP. I wanted to find out where that mountain was, but I read something that broke my heart.

When I was there, we were taken to a special preserve in the park… it was where the Park Service rangers and security personnel were housed. At various times, animals who were of special interest, and in special danger were brought there for safety.

We arrived within hours of the birth of a new, white (square-lipped) rhinoceros. I remember seeing this beautiful beast, grazing on hay and cut branches, looking deceptively serene, while her newborn struggled to nurse. Now, to just about any but die-hard animal lovers, I’m sure it’s hard to imagine a beautiful rhinoceros. Trust me. Looking at this monsterous beast with it’s baby at it’s side I was moved by the beauty of it.

I just found out that the last rhinoceros, a white, in MNP was poached in 1988. This park, home to rhinocerii for millenia, is no longer.

While white rhino are not extinct, at least not yet, I’m sadded by this. I don’t understand why this happened. I don’t understand the poacher mentality.

I don’t feel like telling my story any more. Maybe later.

I’m not sure why, really, but this morning, as I showered, I was thinking about the three months I spent living in Kenya. Several of us went, and then scattered upon arrival to the four corners of that beautiful country.

A few spent their summer in little villages in the countryside, miles away from “civilization”. The families they stayed with still spread cow manure on the inside walls of their homes to keep the walls from drying out.

I stayed in Nairobi, the capitol of Kenya. Unlike my associates who really lived a rough existence for those 3 months, the home I lived in had two servants and I was given my own bodyguard. My “country-kin” lived with their villages head chieftain. I lived with a government official, and his family were always in danger of kidnapping and other dangers.

About two weeks after arriving in-country, I confirmed that I apparently had a death-wish. The first night in Nairobi, I started to cross a street. I looked to my left, it was clear, and I stepped out. Fortunately for me, the man behind me saw my mistake and grabbed me, pulling me back onto the sidewalk as a car came barreling past me, just inches from where I’d been standing. (Someone needs to teach those folks to drive on the right damn side of the street!)

Anyhow, two weeks into my trip, we went on a trip to Nakuru, situated in the Great Rift Valley. Nakuru is home to Lake Nakuru which is famous for it’s (real, live) pink flamingos… Thousands of these beautiful birds settle in it’s waters. The streams and rivers which feed this lake are home, too, to crocodile. And in the lowlands around the lakeshore, are swamps populated with great swarms of mosquito.

We spent a beautiful, hot sunny day wandering around, then drove into town (after chasing the monkeys off our Land Rover) for dinner.

That night, back in Nairobi, actually out in the Ngong Hills area on Nairobi’s outskirts, I began feeling rather poorly. By the middle of the night, I was waking literally every hour on the hour, and vomiting.

On Monday afternoon, the man I was staying with came home from work, and, with our bodyguards, got me loaded in the car for a trip to the hospital. During those first hours at the hospital I remember two events. The first was while we awaited the doctor. I looked out the window and saw a Kenyan Army truck pull up outside. Several prisoners were unloaded, in shackles. I turned to Erasmus and asked “What’s going on?”.

“This past weekend, a battalion or larger, of Somalis invaded the north. Our army drove them back and these are some of the prisoners.” Back then, the Somalis were constantly raiding the northern borders of Kenya.

“Were they wounded?” I asked.

“No, but the Somali are a poor people, most of those men have never seen a doctor. We’ll give them physicals to ensure they’re healthy. We are a civilized people.”

“Will they be returned, then?”

“No. They’ll stand trial, and if found guilty, they’ll be executed.” I never had a chance to find out if he was serious.

The second one was between moments of absolute delirium. I awoke to find a technician by my bed. Simon, my bodyguard was nowhere to be seen. The technician had come to take some blood for testing. He was drunk. VERY drunk. Obviously BLIND drunk because he took my arm, sighted down the needle with one eye closed, swaying, then JABBED. After seven attempts, he (by pure luck, I’m sure) managed to find a vein and drew the required blood. He put the blood on his tray, and turned to walk away.

Try an experiment. Put 7 test tubes on their side on a flat, rimless tray. Pick up the tray, turn suddenly in any direction.

Resignedly, he put the tray down, turned back to me, picked up another needle.

I screamed. Loudly. And then passed out.

Three days later I awoke. I was in a different ward. The people around me were all of European descent. The man next to me pressed his buzzer, and when the speaker by his ear mumbled he spoke two words. “He’s awake.”

Later that day, I the doctor came in to see me. His words struck terror into my still foggy brain.

“Well, young man. My name is Dr. Eric _________. You gave us a scare. Let me start by telling you that you have Malaria and are quite jaundiced, which leads me to believe you have Hepatitis.” His words faded. I remember we chatted for a while, then he left the room. A month later, I too left the room.

None of my clothes fit, anymore, I’d lost 30 pounds. I had one skill picked up from that month’s visit. I was so thirsty, I could upend a large bottle of coke and chug it in one slug. I also remember being in a park with all these little kids standing around, as some guy bought me coke after coke, and I entertained the gaggle by chugging them all. Odd.

Months later, back here in the US, I went to the doctor so that he could run tests and determine what treatment regimen I would undergo. It would be for life, he informed me. A couple of days later, he gave me the results.

“Eric, we’ve taken 3 separate blood samples from you. I’ve good news. You do NOT have Malaria, and you do NOT have hepatitis. I’ve consulted with several specialists here in the US. It seems you didn’t have Malaria, but A malaria… a fever. And you were jaundiced because you had severe food poisoning, and your liver was probably damaged. You’re going to be fine.”

He was right. It took six months, but I finally recovered. However, to this day I am a total lightweight when it comes to alcohol. One beer gives me a hangover. Two and I’m drunk as a skunk.

Do skunks drink? Do they get drunk? Is that why some folks are stinking drunks?

I remember my time in Kenya, though, not for my near death experiences (there were three more… perhaps someday I’ll mention my being chased by three of apprises more dangerous creatures, a hippo and a lion.. and a troop of baboons.)

What I remember is the absolute beauty of its people and culture. I remember the times spent with my bodyguard, and 5 other Kenyans as we made our round of the Meru area. It was when I first came to realize the vastness of our world, and the diversity of peoples, and indeed, of nature.

And that I could persevere in just about anything.

“I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” John 3:3

Well, I could take the Real Live Preacher up on a suggestion and write about “Nic at Night” but, I won’t. I’ll leave that for the more skilled amongst us. (BTW, Nic… as in Nicodemus… the one Jesus is addressing in the above verse.)

For years, I’ve always read that verse and wondered. Like Nicodemus, I wonder how can one be “born again”. What does one have to do? I know, unlike Nicodemus, that this no physical birth or rebirth that Jesus spoke of. It’s a spiritual birth. But just what work do we have to do, what books do we read, what changes do we have to make in our lives to accomplish this act of spiritual rebirth? When will we be ready for that rebirth?

I remember as a teenager being heavily involved in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal in my town. When most normal teenagers were out gallivanting about on Saturday night, I was at Prayer Meeting. I met a girl there, we dated (almost always with both sets of parents present) eventually got engaged, and the married. I remember that night I prayed for the Gift of the Holy Spirit, and the experience of receiving that gift. I remember that was the night I experienced my “Born Again!” experience.

So much water has flown by that bridge since then. So many miles have been walked on my journey. The hands of the clock have spun far too many times to revisit that night, to renounce it or to embrace it. Was it genuine? I don’t know. I can’t say, and I don’t really care to revisit my beliefs on that score.

Because today, I feel differently towards that verse than I did back then (almost 30 years ago!). I still wonder at what things do I have to do to warrant that experience of being born again. As I age, not so gracefully, I might add, I am gaining an inkling that we are not born again, in any sense, physical or spiritual, as a fait accompli. The rebirth Jesus spoke of must of necessity, it seems to me, be a process not an act. It’s something we are constantly undergoing.

Today, however, I read two passages of scripture that really put my focus on this rebirthing process. The first one is the same verse, but from “The Message” version of the bible. “Unless a person is born from ABOVE…” That ever so subtly (or maybe not so subtly) changes the whole flavor of the verse. Now it’s no longer “A person must be…” That kind of change answers, in part, the “What must I DO?” question that arises from the verse… we don’t do anything, the rebirth is from above… it’s, dare I say it? A gift from God, this rebirth is part of the constant flow of Grace from above that is ours for the taking.

But a second verse, one from the Old Testament (or as my church likes to term it “Ancient Hebrews”) really makes this strike home. Isaiah writes that God says:

“I have done it, and I will carry you;
And I will bear you and I will deliver you.” (Isaiah 46:4)

I have done it. What? I have caused your new you to come into being, perhaps?
I will carry you and I will bear you… now THERE’S a pregnant turn of phrase! I see it now, this image of a pregnant God, carrying my NEW, reborn spirit.
I will deliver you. Whoa! That’s not a passive thought, to me… it’s declarative… and more importantly it’s a promise! I WILL deliver you.

This will come, it will happen, I WILL deliver you, you WILL receive this rebirth from Above.

And I believe that. I believe it because I believe in this journey I’m on, this process of ever becoming a new being… drawing nearer, chronologically and physically to the Other Within.

On the day I make that connection, on the day I come face to face with that One Within, that is the day I’ll receive my full rebirth.

The other day, while doing a search on information regarding the three dimensions of Physics:

Space, Time, Mass

I came across a blog from several months ago which introduced me to the concept of Spiritual Dimensions.

There are, it would seem, three spiritual dimensions to go with the three primary dimensions mentioned parenthetically above. Well, not so much as MATCHING those above, but in the sense that there are three mentioned. Know what I mean, Vern?

Three spiritual dimensions: Vertical or “up”ward, Horizontal or outward, and interal.

The Vertical dimension of spirituality is the dimension of relatedness between ourselves and the Other “out there”. God in Heaven, in otherwords. According to the site that introduced this to me, the individual strong in this dimension is comfortable with prayer, worship and “other religious-related things and activities.”

The Horizontal dimension of spirituality is the dimension of relatedness between ourselves and others. Our neighbor, friend, and even enemy. The individual strong in this dimension “is into
helping others, community service, social justice, good works, etc.”

The Internal dimension of spirituality is the dimension of relatedness between ourselves our soul, or that spark of Other dwelling within us. According to my source, the individual strong in this dimension is harder to, ahem… PIGEON HOLE than the others, but “tend to find strength, energy, confidence, and peace from within, drawing from an inner source, often unknown to be deeply rooted in God.”

I’ve been thinking on this a lot since reading that site. Three dimensions of spirituality, three dimensions of the physical world, three persons of Trinity.

And one can rather easily relate the three areas:

Space – Vertical – God (Father, Mother, Parent, Creator)
Time – Horizontal – Jesus
Mass – Internal – Holy Spirit

Okay, now, I have a little problem with that last one… But I suspect it wouldn’t be hard to define it better so as to make better sense.

Asked how the concept of Trinity fits with his theology, Spong addresses the Trinity in this way (it’s one of the things from Spong that I can really identify with):

I experience God as that which is beyond all human categories, the Infinite Other. That is what Christians call the “Father and Almighty Creator.”

I experience God as Depth within, closer than my breath. That is what Christians call the Holy Spirit.

I experience God as a reality flowing through human lives and, for me, uniquely present in the life of Jesus.

These three experiences of the Other also fit the pattern above.

I’m not sure where I want to go with all of this. But it’s interesting to me. Something to fill the time while commuting every day. Something to occupy my mind. And, a framework for a way to pray.

Chapter 1

Before time began, One Existed. And the existence of This One can not be comprehended. The One Existed, and the One Loved – for love’s sake. As a result of this love for love’s sake, the One decided to create. So the One whispered “Let it begin.”

From deep within the One, the first dimension, mass, came into being; huge, massive, highly concentrated matter. This mass, which before the One’s whisper did not exist, now came into being and exploded with a force exceeding all force but that of the One who’s whispered command summoned it.

With the expansion of the detritus of this explosion, there came into being the two dimensions of Time and Space. Whereas before the whisper neither Mass, Time nor Space existed, now within the One and contained by the One, Mass, Time and Space came into being. Because Mass, Time and Space now existed, the One, who is One of Orderliness, looked upon the chaos of the explosion and deemed it appropriate that order be imposed. Upon Mass, Time and Space a set of ordinances which would come to be called “Laws of Physics” was imposed. The One was pleased with this beginning.