An Open Christianity
If something is true, no matter who said it, it is always from the Holy Spirit.
—Thomas Aquinas, De Veritate
Father Richard Rohr reflects on how his commitment to Christ and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit have continually helped him recognize God in other religious traditions:
In my own life, going deep in the Christian religion of my birth has enabled me to see the same Spirit and love in other religions as well. It’s been quite a journey from growing up in a Catholic “ghetto” in Kansas, and hardly even knowing any Protestants. And yet, at age fourteen, I was sent to study with the Franciscans in Cincinnati, Ohio, and they gave me an expansive theological education.
One of the best courses I had was on the Hebrew Scriptures, which gave me a great love for Judaism. It’s probably why I emphasize the prophets so much, because I realized the prophets really weren’t about what we call today retributive justice. They were about restorative justice. When we stay with their message, there are these magnificent passages toward the end of their books that invariably point toward love. God eventually says through the prophets: “I’m going to love you anyway. I’m going to redeem you by my perfect love. I’m going to love you into wholeness” (see Isaiah 29:13–24; Hosea 6:1–6).
In 1969, when I was sent as a deacon to the Acoma Pueblo in New Mexico, I had only a basic introduction to Indigenous religions. I observed how mothers in the pueblo would show their children how to silently wave the morning sunshine toward their faces, just as many Christians learn to bless themselves with the sign of the cross. I realized that Indigenous peoples had contemplative prayer long before we Franciscans ever appeared.
The rediscovery of Christian contemplation opened my eyes to Buddhists and Sufis—their teachings and practitioners. Buddhism taught me the phenomenology of perception—what’s going on in our brains. Every world religion at its mature level discovers some forms of practice to free us from our addictive mind, which we take as normal. Starting in the 1960s, our increased interaction with Eastern religions in general, and Buddhism in particular, helped us recognize and rediscover our own very ancient Christian contemplative tradition. The Sufis’ deep love of mysticism, especially as expressed by their poets Rumi and Hafiz, often captures the stirrings of my own heart.
My latest discovery was Hinduism, which is considered the oldest world religion. In the early 1980s, I gave a retreat in Nepal. Between talks I would just walk the old streets, go into temples, and try to remain invisible. I remember these lovely Indian women coming in so gracefully, wearing saris, and paying no attention to anything else except perhaps the flame or the oil they were holding. With what reverence they would bow! What do we think they’re bowing to except God, the Mystery? Like the wind, the Spirit blows where it will (John 3:8).
Learning from Thomas Merton
In the CAC’s Essentials of Engaged Contemplation course, James Finley reflects on what he learned about interfaith friendships from Thomas Merton:
Thomas Merton had a sense of depth and integrity to the search for God and how it interfaces the world. He had a deep love for his own mystical, contemplative Christian tradition, down through the ages. He wrote two books on Zen Buddhism, Zen and the Birds of Appetite and Mystics and Zen Masters. In his letter to D. T. Suzuki, who was a Buddhist scholar, he wrote: “When I read your teachings about these talks between the master and the teacher, where the student is enlightened in the presence of the teacher, something leaps off the page at me and says, ‘This is true.’” [1] He said in essence, “I would like to know if I, as a Christian, could dialogue with you as a Buddhist about our common ground.” And Suzuki accepted the invitation. Merton approached everyone that way, and they came to talk with him.
What Merton saw was that the world will not survive religion based on in-group consciousness. It’ll bring the whole world down. But if those who have been awakened within their tradition to the Divine Mystery which also transcends their tradition, when they all come in toward that all-encompassing center, they recognize each other. And if they would speak up, religion’s awakening could be a source of world unity and peace. Merton was trying to be someone who spoke out of this unified clarity. He saw that each religion is like a different language of the universality of awakening.
Finley recalls how he sought Merton’s guidance in developing his own curiosity about Buddhism:
Merton would talk about the beauty of these religions, their analogies and similarities. When I would go see him for spiritual direction, I’d ask him to help me to go further. He never pushed it or anything, but I asked. He introduced me to the Dharma or Buddhist teaching, and it had a deep effect on me. The same with yoga. He practiced yoga and introduced me to it. A yoga monk came from India and we all went up to the front porch of Merton’s hermitage to practice asana—the postures—together. People were drawn to Merton, because they sensed the depth of awareness that he carried.
Thomas Merton once said that if we want to study Buddhism, the answer is not to read a lot of books on Buddhism; it’s to meet a holy Buddhist instead. There’s an unmistakable quality of presence. And if someone tries to understand Christianity, they don’t need to read a lot of books on Christian theology. Philosopher Jacques Maritain, who came to visit Merton at the monastery once, said, “If there’s a place where Christ isn’t present, you go there. Christ will be present this way.” I think it is this transformative place of living from presence that allows us to resonate with others—meeting them in their presence, rather than through our ideas about them, or their ideas of us.
| Learning from the Mystics: George MacDonald |
| Quote of the Week: “Sad, indeed, would the whole matter be, if the Bible had told us everything God meant us to believe. But herein the Bible itself greatly wronged. It nowhere lays claim to be regarded as the Word, the Way, theTruth. The Bible leads us to Jesus, the inexhaustible, the ever unfolding Revelation of God. It is Christ ‘in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, not the Bible, save as leading to him.” – from the Unspoken Sermon “The Higher Faith.” Reflection The Bible is indispensable in the life and practice of Christianity. It is rightfully the first conversation partner and influence for Christian spiritual formation. However, It is not the cornerstone upon which everything should stand or fall. That title, the Cornerstone, is reserved for Christ alone. To make the Christian Scriptures the main thing in one’s life is actually to make an idol of the Bible. Idolatry is so sneaky, it will even take something pious and make it primary. MacDonald is making a sharp distinction: The Bible exists to point toward Christ. Any interpretation of the Scriptures that esteems them more than Christ is faulty and misguided. The fervor and the intensity to which some of us defend, quote, and uphold the Scriptures might be communicating something else. Is it possible that our fanatic devotion to the Bible is a wall, a distraction, a means by which we hold God at a distance? Take a moment to consider these questions…What is more important to you, being “biblical” or “Christlike”?What does a Christian do, follow the Bible or follow Jesus?Is the Bible the “way, truth and life” or is the Carpenter from Galilee?Can quoting the Bible become a shallow replacement for instead doing what Christ would do?Jesus himself encountered this problem of pious people making an idolatrous god of the Bible… “You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them is eternal life. These are the very Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life.” – John 5:39-40 Theologians of Church history have taken to understanding the Bible, not as the Word of God per se, but as the echo or the testimony that Jesus is the Word of God. This may sound striking, but it is only because we have confused the testimony about Jesus with the person of Jesus himself. MacDonald, through rather direct wording, is doing the pastoral thing of reminding his people to keep Christ at the center of their faith and practice rather than the Scriptures. Again, this does not negate that the Scriptures can rightfully be the first and primary conversation partner and influence in the life of faith, but the Scriptures serve a function… The Scriptures are not the Christ, they unwaveringly point toward Him as the self-revelation of God. Prayer Heavenly Father, we acknowledge that we often take secondary things and make them primary. Often, we do this with pious things but we recognize that to do so is still idolatry. Help us to understand the Scriptures for what they are, as a guide pointing us back to you. Do not allow us to be tempted to love anything more than we should you. Amen and amen. |
| Life Overview of George MacDonald: When and Where: Born on December 10th, 1824. Died on September 18th, 1905. He spent most of his life in England and Scotland. Why He is Important: The Cloud of Unknowing is considered a spiritual classic, that in some ways, worked against the logic and the rhetoric common in that day. What is understood about God is deemed less important compared to what can be experienced with God. Most Known For: His poetry, fantastical stories, and unspoken sermons on God as Father, God as Refiner, and the salvation of all people. Notable Works to Check Out:Unspoken Sermons Phantastes Lillith |
