The Epistle to the Anonymous

Preface:

This week I received a letter in the mail. No return address. No signature. Usually I disregard such letters. I figure if the sender is not willing to take responsibility for whatever they’ve said, there’s not much point in taking them seriously.

But I figured it wouldn’t hurt me to read the letter. And as I thought about it afterwards, it occurred to me that at a basic level, the sender probably thought they were doing me a favor, particularly given the contents of the letter.

Why they weren’t willing to sign the letter or offer a means of response is not clear. Perhaps they find me intimidating, something I occasionally hear from folks even as I rarely understand it. I don’t think I’m particularly scary or even authoritative. But then, our Egos always try and put the best spin on the way we view ourselves.  I’m pretty clear that my Shadow shows up more often than I would like to think. A lot more often.

After I read the letter, I began to think about it. I sense it may have been provoked by the sermons I preach at St. Richards and post to my blog. So, if the sender is reading this blog post, let me thank you for prompting me to think. I always consider that a gift. And now I’d like to offer you the same gift in return. 

Given that your letter was three pages single spaced, I cannot reproduce it in its entirety here. And I realize that any process of excerpting runs the risk of engaging in cherry picking the low hanging fruit. Hopefully I avoided that in choosing the passages below that jumped out at me as I read your words.

So here are those passages and my brief responses. If you would like to follow up with a longer conversation, I’d be glad to sit down over a cup of coffee with you. I’ll buy. Really. 

 

QUOTE 1: “In Genesis chapter 1 God says….”

 

This lets me know immediately that we are not starting from the same place in the way we read scripture.

I need to preface what follows with an acknowledgment that my views have been shaped by a lifelong study of our faith tradition that has included seminary education, doctoral work and time spent with biblical scholars at the Jesus Seminar and teachers of mysticism including Richard Rohr’s Living School.

That doesn’t necessarily make me right. It just means I come at this discussion from a place informed by a life of study, experiential learning and prayer. And I feel it is best to acknowledge those starting places up front for purposes of intellectual honesty.

That said, I am clear that the scriptures – like all writings - are a human artifact, the work of human hands and imaginations. And while I believe that divine inspiration can be found in the scriptures, I am also clear they were not dictated by the Holy One. And I am also clear that a number of other sources of inspirations and motivations can be found in them as well, some of them anything but divine.

 

I strongly believe we should avoid anthropomorphizing human artifacts. Bibles don’t speak, teach, permit, prohibit, et al. Those are human activities. Scriptures also don’t contain the Holy One. G-d does not live within their covers. Human authors wrote scripture. It is they who speak to us of their experience of the divine. I believe we should take that seriously and that means reading all scriptures critically and contextually.

I also believe we should never use the Bible to pound others, even if just to persuade them to share our understandings. There are a lot of ways to misuse the Bible. And it’s quite possible to mine the contents of scripture to find the legitimation of any particular viewpoint. As Shakespeare has Antonio, the Merchant of Venice, saying, even “The devil can quote scripture for his purposes.”

 

Bishop Jack Spong was prone to say, “It’s precisely because I take the Bible seriously that I don’t take it literally.” I think there is great wisdom in that observation. And that’s my starting place here.

QUOTE 2: “The image of God is the perfection of God.”

 

I guess that’s one possible understanding of that concept. The image of G_d has a long history of interpretation in both the Judaic tradition out of which it arose as well as the Christian streams of tradition which adapted that Judaic thought to their own use.

The problem is, there is no concept of perfection in Judaic thought. That’s a Greek idea. The Judaic vision is focused on the concept of wholeness, not the absence of flaws. Jesus actually said, “Be whole as your Father in heaven is whole.” We have largely misinterpreted that passage for years to our peril.

But the notion of wholeness means the willingness to own one’s Shadow content, not to repress it in pursuit of a persona based in perfection. That’s a dangerous pursuit, ultimately, because it almost always means that the parts of ourselves we hate end up being projected onto others. A saying I often cite from author Ann Lamott quotes an Episcopal priest who said, “You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” Of course, that would be true. The hated one always bears the Shadow we can’t face.

So, here’s an example of where we Christians get it wrong.

I love the hymn “Child of the Light.” It’s a beautiful tune but it’s rotten theology. To wit: “I want to be as a child of the light, I want to be like Jesus….in him there is no darkness at all.”

To begin with, that means Jesus was NOT “fully God and fully human” as our tradition has asserted since Chalcedon. All humans have a Shadow side. This is a hymn about perfectionism based in a denial of our Shadow, a perfectionism we here project onto Jesus.

But, if our goal is to see ourselves only in terms of the light, it means that we have already engaged in projecting our Shadow onto others. Little wonder we can so easily identify all the sinful people outside our tribe when we engage in that kind of thinking. They ultimately bear the Shadow we refuse to.

The medieval understanding of this imago dei tied the divine image to the capacity to reason, something that set us apart from non-human animals. Of course, there’s no small amount of anthropocentrism in that.  This understanding continued that while all humans were born bearing the image of G-d, through a life of prayer and righteous living, we could grow ever more into the likeness of G-d.

I think that is probably where your assertion above makes sense. While the notion of perfection remains problematic (who can even define it?), the promise that we can grow into the likeness of G-d over our lifetimes is a very comforting idea. But that process was ultimately about becoming whole, NOT perfect.

QUOTE: “That pride of self was sinful rebellion….”

 

So said Augustine, a man who knew a lot about pride, self and rebellion. And perhaps it’s not surprising that a man of privilege would see pride as the ultimate sin. One of the ways that pride plays out is in the presumption that the prideful man of privilege’s experience is somehow normative for everyone else.

In fact, there are a lot of people whose besetting sin is not pride. If anything, it’s the lack thereof. These are people who have been ground into the dust and shamed just for being who they are – poor, female, persons of color, immigrants, women, persons disabled by physical limitations and illness – and in many cases they have internalized that debilitating vision of themselves.

Yet these are precisely the “little ones” Jesus loved, the ones he sought to lift up with assertions like “You are the light of the world! You are the salt of the Earth!” What they must repent of is not pride, it is their own internalized devaluation as human beings. These are the folks that most need to see the image of G_d on their own faces.

No doubt pride can be destructive to self and others. But we need to be very careful about assuming that this is the besetting sin that everyone must deal with.

It isn’t.

And to assert this evidences what I would see as a lack of understanding of who Jesus was and what he was about. While he does have a good bit to say about pride among the privileged, his primary focus was always on compassion for the vast majority who were not. If you want to find Jesus in the Gospels, always look for where there is suffering to be healed.

 

QUOTE 3: “That means that we’re born with a sinful nature that’s passed on from sinful human parent to sinful human child. All we have to do is look at our own lives for proof.”

 

Well, again, that is what Augustine said. (And I must note at this point that Augustine has some very valuable things to say to us, this just isn’t one of them) It’s important to note that his construct of “original sin” that you reference here is not in the Genesis account. Perhaps even more importantly, though Christianity would ultimately appropriate it as its own, Genesis is a product of the Hebrew tradition. Judaism has never taught the original sin doctrine that Augustine proposed in his City of God.

That has two implications worth noting. First, Jesus as a Jew had probably never heard of “original sin” and would not have been inclined to believe it. Second, Augustine’s doctrine was not fully articulated until the early 5^th CE and it will take another century for it to be adopted by the Church. That also suggests that original sin was not a tenet of the faith for all Christians until it became imposed by the authority of the church at the end of the 5^th CE. And even today, it is not universally accepted within the Christian tradition.

Pretty shaky foundation for a theological pillar, I would say.

But your last statement is the one most worth discussing. “All we have to do is look at our own lives for proof.” I think that is a helpful observation though problematic. On the one hand, if we look at our lives, we will certainly see places where we have “missed the mark,” the classical definition of sin in our tradition. And there have been times when all of us have needed to turn around and return to our Source, the Hebrew understanding of repentance.

But if we are being honest with ourselves when we look at our lives, sin will never be all we see. Our “nature” is not capable of being summed up by “sinful.” That’s little more than an exercise in a cynical reductionism which would reduce a complex nature to its worst qualities. The truth is, we are all mixed bags on a good day. Within each of us lives the potential to be Mother Teresa as well as the potential to be Vladimir Putin. And most of us live somewhere between the two extremes.

 

The Jewish understanding of that reality was the teachings on the yetzers, the inclinations to be selfish on the one hand and the inclination to do good on the other. It was the exercise of free will which determined which inclination one lived into.

Again, bear in mind, Jesus was Jewish. There’s no small amount of irony in the realization that the atonement theology may well be a supposed remedy for an “original sin” that Jesus had never heard of and would not have been inclined to believe.

It’s also important to note that our Creator’s assessment of our nature at the end of the Creation cycle was that we, along with all of Creation, were “very good.” Not perfect, a Greek concept foreign to Hebrew thought, but - looking at the whole - “very good.” Indeed, the psalmist will acclaim “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Wonderful are your works” (Psalm 139:14)  So much for utter depravity, no?

 

So not only are constructs of “sin nature” et al not accurate, they tend to be largely unrecognized control issues at work. Such constructs create the condition precedent for a religion which demands that others buy into their understandings or face eternal damnation. But imagine that. A G-d dictated by human religious constructs. So whose construct is the one G_d ultimately chooses? Whose belief system gets to determine the chosen?

At its core, this is thinly veiled manipulation at work. A religion that is procured through browbeating and existential security destabilization has little to recommend itself by. It is not the stuff of mature adult believing and I find little about this to admire.

 

QUOTE 4: “Sin separates us from life with God in heaven forever.”

 Of all the doctrines promulgated by the Christian tradition, I believe this is the most destructive and, in the end, the least credible.

 

As I see it, the connection that is created by an infinite Creator with finite creatures can never be broken by those finite creatures. If the connection is infinite in its inception, finite creatures would be unable to break it.

Simple physics.

That doesn’t mean we human creations are not capable of ignoring that connection, denying it, neglecting it, abusing it, et al. But in the end, we always remain connected to the G-d who created us regardless. The Father of the Prodigal Son always stands ready to welcome us home, arms open, ears closed to our own perceived need for self-deprecation. And thereby we remain connected to all that exists.

Everything we do affects ourselves and everything else.

As Franciscan theologian Bonaventure put it, we come from G_d, we exist in G_d, we return to G_d, the Holy One to whom my prayers daily address, “My G_d and my all, you who are the Source of all Being, the Ground of our existence, the Destination of all Souls.”

Notions of separation come to us human animals naturally. They are a part of a normal human developmental cycle in which we begin immersed in the ocean of our Mother’s amniotic fluids, are violently separated from her body at birth, engage in a process of growth that progressively instills understandings of separation from others as we individuate.

It is only in our later years, should we be fortunate enough to be granted them, that we begin to see that we have always been connected to others all along, others without whom we would never have survived to elderhood. The response that we elders so often make is simply gratitude for all the players along the way in our lives who helped us get to where we are now.

Clearly, many, perhaps most, of us get stuck in notions of individualism. As it plays out in our collective lives, it creates an atomistic self-understanding, the rugged individual, alienated from our own inner depths, from each other, from the good Creation of which we are a part but only a part, and from the G-d who lies beneath, within and beyond all of that.

Ultimately, this is the stuff of neurosis.

Your letter referenced what the western Christian tradition has called “original sin.” While I do not find Augustine’s construct terribly compelling, I would say that if we are to locate a besetting sin that gives rise to the pathologies that plague human life, it would be in the presumption of separation. Ironically, Augustine’s theology is the key to this problem. ‘

 

When we do not pay attention to our inner depths, dismissing our dreams as mere curiosities, we lose an entire dimension of our humanity. Our unconscious is constantly communicating things we need to know if we are willing to listen.

When we see others as either means or obstacles to our own ends, we lose the badly needed role that healthy relationships play in making us fully human. And when we see ourselves as separated from the Good Creation, we will engage it in deleterious ways, the ever-growing threat of extinction by climate change being only the most extreme manifestation of that.

Finally when we see ourselves as separated from G-d, we become subject to manipulative theologies based in institutional control issues. (If you want to go to heaven, believe what we believe) We might ask ourselves why a G_d capable of creating all that exists would need to engage in such pernicious human behaviors.

It has taken most of us a lifetime to fully develop our notions of separation. They seem intuitively true to us. As you said, just look around and you can see it in our lives. True. But what does that say about the lenses through which we peer?

 

I am clear that repentance is a necessary tool for a healthy spiritual life. And as you note, the need to repent is obvious in our own lives and all around us. But if we are to begin with our besetting sin, let us begin by reconsidering the belief that we are separated from G-d, not just in heaven (we might ask ourselves what kind of deity would respond to finite acts with infinite punishment – something we would call cruel and unusual punishment in our justice system) but in our lives here and now.

Rather than presuming we are separate from our inner depths, from other living beings, from the Good Creation and the G-d who is present in all of these dimensions, why not let go of that artificial separation? Why not presume instead that we are all connected, that what we think, say and do affects not only ourselves but everything and everyone else our lives impact. In truth, that makes a lot more sense. And while we are at it, why not recognize that the G-d, from whom we so fear separation, is as close as the very breath we breathe:

Yah – inhale – Weh – exhale

I believe such a shift would make a world of difference. Literally.

 

Quote 5: “Whose world can you change with this message, Harry?”

Of course, this was your message, not mine. In all fairness, I took it seriously enough to respond here.

But, in all truth, we both know this would not be my message and so I would not offer it to the world. I’ve worked hard all my life to live in integrity and authenticity, to be who I truly am and to speak the truth I see. So, the chances are, I won’t be relating this message to anyone much as I see how important it might be to you. But if I am to write, preach, teach with authenticity, I must offer the vision I see without seeking the affirmation of those who do not share it.

 

One of our classes in seminary was called systematic theology. My initial response to that course was simply “Who could ever come up with a theology that covered the mystery that is G-d and why would we attempt to do so?” I still think that question is valid.

While I found the courses fascinating to study and still admire the professor who patiently prompted me to critically consider my own understandings, I still see attempts to put understandings about the Holy One and our relationship to that mystery as largely about our own perceived needs for structure and systems and very little about that which we would describe within them. Ultimately, this is an impossibility. As the nuns sang about Maria in The Sound of Music, “How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”

That said, I observe that all of us are natural theologians. Whether we are conscious of it or not, we all have our understandings of what a beloved fellow priest used to call “these holy mysteries.” I want to encourage that in my own ministry. My approach is never to tell people what to think, which I see as a parent/child endeavor, but rather to prompt them to think for themselves. I raise questions, pose dilemmas, critique accepted understandings. My goal is never to undermine the faith of anyone but to ultimately make it deeper, broader, stronger.

An inherited belief system, accepted on the basis of the authority that is demanded by its offerors, is never one’s own. And as a result it is inevitably brittle and can evoke violent responses when challenged. Daring to question the beliefs one has been taught is often experienced as tantamount to betraying one’s cherished authority sources whether family, friends or religious authorities. But to do so is the only way to make them your own.

So, let me close by again thanking you for prompting me to think about these points you have posed. I hope I have done your hard work in writing your letter justice in responding to them. And let me encourage you to continue thinking about them.

It’s enticing to believe one has arrived at an understanding that is the final word. But given the ideas in question, I think that’s pretty unlikely. Indeed, the scriptures and our faith tradition itself evidence an ongoing journey in coming to understand “these holy mysteries” that continues today. If we are being faithful to that tradition, we will always be sojourners.

 

I wish you well in that journey. And I was dead serious about that offer for coffee.

Harry Coverston

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry Scott Coverston

Orlando, Florida

frharry@cfl.rr.com

hcoverston.orlando@gmail.com

If the unexamined life is not worth living, surely an unexamined belief system, be it religious or political, is not worth holding. Most things worth considering do not come in sound bites.

Those who believe religion and politics aren't connected don't understand either. – Mahatma Gandhi

For what does G-d require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your G-d?  - Micah 6:8, Hebrew Scriptures

Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it. - Rabbi Rami Shapiro, Wisdom of the Jewish Sages (1993)

   © Harry Coverston, 2023

  ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++