When I found the theology, mindset, and discipline of the Ancient Christian Church, I experienced a period of, for want of a better term, depression, not sadness, I was elated at what I had found! It answered every single confusing theological question with which I had wrestled for practically my whole life. Yet it was insulting to realize my modern and sophisticated questions had been asked and answered, many times over the centuries, and the only reason I struggled with them was because they were absent in my "religious and philosophical circles" and it took me decades to reach to the real answers outside of "me and the bible." Something else had taken the place of true theology and true philosophy in the world in which I was raised and lived a great portion of my life.
And, at the same time, the more I was awakened to a view of my own life, I was shocked by it. I had always loved Jesus Christ like a cherished older brother, but I had NEVER stood in AWE of him. I could see the crooked paths (plural) of my life, my failings, not just in a narrow moral sense, that is sins and failings common, to one degree or another, to us all, but attitudes, ideas, and assumptions that were so wrong.
The fifty protestant and evangelical sophisms that were the book covers of my personal theology, were something that HAD TO BE self-created because there were so many protestant varieties. It created, and needs be, an arrogant individualized spirituality, mindset, and theology. Yet that path of discovery for those decades was exciting, FUN, actually. Discovering this and that, as I walked across (intellectually ) all the world's great theological traditions and studied their great tomes and listened to their teachers - I learn an encyclopedia of GOOD things.
Every faith tradition had collections of beautiful thoughts, philosophy, and degrees of spiritual understanding. The most poverty-stricken, of course, being Islam, but even the Koran has beautiful and poetic passages. While I took that virtual intellectual journey, in real life I moved from Pentecostal, to Lutheran, to Methodist, to abstaining from organized religion, to Lutheran, to Old Catholic, to Orthodox Catholic. And as I said, IT WAS GREAT FUN. I learned very much and enjoyed every new thing I learned.
You see, on this journey, I wasn't very challenged by it all, because since it was self-created, ego created from a smorgasbord of competing theologies, it wasn't challenging AT ALL. A little of this, a little of that, a wink and smile dismissal of something else. The rule was simple, "accept what felt right and seemed reasonable, and reject what is disturbing and seems unreasonable." While of course like ALL Protestants, being uniquely led by the Holy Spirit. What could be easier than that?
Yet, there it was, the confusing array of conflicting theological ideas, with their deep questions that only find answers in narrow rational and truncated "alternative faiths" called "denominations." If you are a Lutheran you are expected to believe X on some primary tenets of the faith, and a methodist in some crucial tenets officially believes the polar opposite! as does a baptist or pentecostal etc. And what to make of those innovative "revelations" like Christian Science, Christian Theosophy, Jehovah's Witnesses, and Mormons, and the thousands of tiny sects and denomination, Fire Baptized, Hard Shell and Soft Shell Baptist, Liberal Baptists, Armenian Baptists, Seventh Day Baptists, Once Saved Always Saved Baptists, and Congregational Methodists (a contradiction in terms) the conflicting versions of Presbyterianism, what was the difference between Holiness Theology, and Pentecostal Theology, and Charismatic Theology and the Jew for Jesus, Judaizer? There are HUGE differences between these last four, on primary questions. Did you know that? There is nowhere in this for one to THOUGHTFULLY "hang his hat" so to speak.
Of course, the simple-minded says "you hang your hat on belief and trust in Jesus" and unite in his "mystical body" but one has to ask, WHICH Jesus? Because contrary to the popular ecumenical MYTHOLOGY, each of these groups teaches a DIFFERENT Jesus, different in varying degrees, but none the less, DIFFERENT, with as diverse paths to their Jesus as there are different versions of him. These people talk about "unity" in the Body, without a grasp of WHO Jesus is and WHAT is His Body.
So, as I gained understanding, I enjoyed seeing cherished old theologies, spiritualities, and mindsets expose for their failure, for their "errors" i.e., heresies. Yet, there I was drinking in the Ancient Christian Faith as fast as I could, and I quickly became bored and missed the excitement of the "hunt." You see, all the innovative and creative theological and philosophical thinking was accomplished many, many centuries ago. THEY did not need ME. And in fact, some of the most mundane people understood so much more than me. It was humiliating.
Emily Dickinson wrote a poem (her intent eludes me) but for me, it perfectly expressed my experience of the Ancient Faith. I felt a funeral in my brain, there was so much that had to DIE. The ancient Saints and a couple modern ones were stomping around in my head, killing "treasured understandings" - ego invented understanding. I had so many ideas I did not need, so many opinions on crucial topics that were useless and needed to DIE. At the same time, I felt absolutely at home in my faith for the first time in my LIFE, unembarrassed by my church's teaching, knowing it could fully be defended before any atheist or heretic, and without resort to irrationality. As Thomas Aquinas rightly said, "For those with faith, no explanation is necessary. But for those without faith, no explanation is possible." So I could relax and on all those crucial teachings say, "The Church Teaches" and she does. MY unique explications were no longer needed or even HEALTHY. In my brain, that felt like DEATH.
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
By Emily Dickinson
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through -
And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum -
Kept beating - beating - till I thought
My mind was going numb -
And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space - began to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race,
Wrecked, solitary, here -
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down -
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing - then -
IN honor of those saints stomping on misused brain matter, here is a requiem for those dead cells.
No comments:
Post a Comment