An Ocean of God: The Interconnectedness of All Being

Excerpt from;
An Ocean of God: The Interconnectedness of All Being
By Rabbi Lawrence Kushner

It was almost ten years ago that one of my sons brought home what was then a new and sophisticated computer game. “It’s called ‘virtual reality,’ Dad,” He explained. “You play it by entering it. You must imagine that you are actually inside it You ask yourself, “What would I do if I really lived in this world?”

The game was called Myst. (They’ve since come out with a sequel called Riven.) You pop in the CD, look at the screen, and find yourself on an island. There’s a dock, a forest, buildings. Stairway. The graphics and sound effects are impressive and convincing. There is no manual, no instructions, no rules. You “go” places by aiming a little pointing finger and clicking. You can look up and down, turn around, climb stairs, wander all around the place. Where ever your curiosity leads you, there are things to discover and remember. There are machines you can operate, a library full of books you can actually open and read. Devotees say the game is properly played over weeks and months. (It’s been almost a decade and I still haven’t finished.)

And the purpose of it all? Why, of course: to figure out what you’re doing there. But to do that, you must first figure out how the place works.

What fascinates me here is not yet another sophisticated and clever way to waste time in front of the computer screen. (I can do that with Solitaire and FreeCell.) It is the concept of a game whose purpose is for the player to discover the purpose. Virtual reality, schmirtual reality, this ain’t no game. What’s going on here? Why am I here? What are the rules?

Upon hearing about this. A friend who is a professor of English suggested that it seemed a lot like childhood. I’d go further. It may be a lot like adulthood, too. We all find ourselves in “this world” and “object” seems to be to figure out what we’re doing here. Unfortunately, the way most things are connected to one another is not immediately apparent.

After all, meaning is a matter of connections. If something is connected to absolutely nothing – symbolically, linguistically, physically, psychologically – it is literally meaningless. And, if something is connected to everyone and everything, it would be supremely meaningful. I suppose it would be God: The One through whom everything is connected to everything else, the Source of all meaning. Religious traditions are the collected “rules of the game.” They presume to tell us how the world works. And if you “play by them,” you are rewarded (hopefully before it is time to leave) with an understanding of why you are here – with what is otherwise known as the meaning of life.

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Bishop Spong Q&A 6/18/09

Jody Jones from Cedar Park, Texas, asks:

I recently attended your three lectures in Austin, Texas. You are an important person in my growth. I was raised as a fundamentalist, and you allowed me to begin and continue my journey. You mentioned prayer, and defined the prayers of most as "adult letters to Santa Claus." I must admit that it is an excellent definition. My question is this: What does prayer look like you to today? Thank you for continuing to educate.

Dear Jody,

I don't like to use the word prayer, because it is culturally translated as one person approaching the theistic God above the sky with a request. The word itself has become bankrupt and not capable of redemption.

Instead, I think of prayer as communing with the holy, that which is transcendental, the power of life, the consciousness of the divine, the Ground of Being or perhaps the source of love. I do not commune with God in order to seek divine favor or to engage in religious flattery that people call praise. I commune to discover God within me and to be more open to that presence. I do not separate prayer from life. I do not think prayer is something I do, so much as it is something I am.

Public worship has elements of liturgical prayer in it and I engage in public worship every Sunday. I believe the purpose of liturgy is to open us to the presence of the holy in the gathered community. I resent having medieval patterns of liturgy imposed on me, as if somehow plainsong music and priestly chanting creates holiness. To me it only creates irrelevant liturgy. I have written on prayer many times. I experience more in prayer than I can describe in words. That is as far as I can go.

I hope this helps.

– John Shelby Spong

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Bishop Spong Q&A - Petitionary Prayer

Elmo Hoffman, via the Internet, writes:

I have read much of your work and met you once at Stetson University in Deland, Florida, at a pastor's conference. It was the same venue where I also met Marcus Borg. I am a retired civil trial lawyer and a late-life seminary graduate, now an ordained Disciples of Christ minister, although before seminary I was a lifelong Presbyterian (USA) from the same time frame and section of North Carolina as you. My question, which gives me a great deal of trouble, is: What is your basic understanding of petitionary prayer? I believe you have said, "A God who would save the life of one prayed-for cancer-stricken child and not another would be a monster." This makes sense but gives me a great deal of trouble in considering petitionary prayer. (I have read your book Honest Prayer — I find no answer to this problem there.)
Dear Elmo,

Thank you for your comments and for your question. Your question on petitionary prayer is almost always the first question that comes up wherever I go to lecture. People can talk about their understanding of God until the cows come home, but nothing really changes until they translate their understanding of God into their prayers. More than anything else, our prayers define our understanding of God. So to talk about prayer, we have to define who the God is to whom we pray. To say it differently, "Who do we think is listening?"

Most people, quite unconsciously, approach the subject of prayer with a very traditional concept of God quite operative in their minds. This God is a personal being, endowed with supernatural power, who lives somewhere outside this world, usually conceptualized as "above the sky." While that definition has had a long history among human beings, it is a definition of God that has been rendered meaningless by the advance of human knowledge. This means that for most of us the activity of prayer does not take seriously the fact that we live in a vast universe, and that we have not yet come to grips with the fact that there is no supernatural, parental deity above the sky, keeping the divine record books on human behavior up to date and ready at any moment to intervene in human history to answer prayers. When we do embrace this fact then prayer, as normally understood, becomes an increasingly impossible idea and inevitably a declining practice. To get people to embrace this point clearly, I have suggested that the popular prayers of most people is little more than adult letters written to a Santa Claus God.

There are then two choices. One says that the God in whom I always believed is no more, so I will become an atheist. People make this decision daily. It is an easy way out.

The other says that the way I have always thought of God has become inoperative, so there must be something wrong with my definition. This stance serves to plunge us deeply into a new way of thinking about God, and that is when prayer itself begins to be redefined. Can God, for example, be conceived of not as supernatural person, but as a force present in me and flowing through me? Then perhaps prayer can be transformed into meditation and petitionary prayer becomes a call to action. The spiritual life is then transformed from the activity of a child seeking the approval of a supernatural being to being a simultaneous journey into self-discovery and into the mystery of God. It also feeds my sense of growing into oneness with the source of all life and love and with what my mentor, Paul Tillich, called the Ground of All Being. It would take a book to fill in the blank places in this quick analysis, but these are the things that today feed my ever deepening discovery of the meaning of prayer.

– John Shelby Spong

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A note from Cliff

Barry,
I have been stimulated by your blog and our Sunday morning discussions to write the following. As I was writing it, I found that one thing led to another, and therefore, it has become wordy and probably too pedantic. Nevertheless, I offer it to you.
Cliff
According to the 2nd story of creation (Genesis 2), God created man (adham) out of the ground (adamah) and breathed into his nostrils "the breath of life" ("Ruach," also known as "Spirit"). Of course, this was this author's way of trying not only to make sense of how life came upon the earth, but how human life is special and different from other forms of life. These stories are not meant to be understood literally, but taken as stories to help explain the mystery of life. Since that writing, however, we have continued to use the word "Spirit" as a power that is outside the natural order. Yet, breath is a part of the natural order. Ruach, however is something more than air; it is the breath that makes us human. This was to say that human life was more than the life of a goat or the life of a tree. Human life for this author was special, so the problem for him/her/them is to tell the story so that the special nature of humans is emphasized. The problem is that it says nothing to identify the “name” of the “one” who gives life to humans. We might infer that since humans possess Ruach, humans contain the nature of the divine. This is the same specialness that is conveyed by the author/s of the first creation story where it says that "God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them." Here again it is not the author's intention to identify the Creator, but simply to state that men and women are created beings. Humans are a part of nature, but are special, i.e., created in the image of one who is supreme. It is an attempt to teach others something of the mystery of life. This leads me to understand God as being as close to us as our breath.

God is unknowable. Yet, when the authors looked around them and saw that humans were somehow more than plants and animals, they attempted to understand this mystery and help others to do the same. Humans have the capability of thought, of reason, of developing language, of creating tools. The thinking of the day said, humans must somehow be associated/connected with a "being" which is outside of creation. Since there was a school of thought that said, there are many gods that live outside of creation, the "being" which created humans must be a god, but not simply a god, but THE GOD, which is over and above all gods and creation. This may have been an attempt to refute the notion that there are multiple gods that rule the creation, hence, the beginning of the notion that there is one and only one God.

The point that I am trying to make here is that the characters in the Bible stories strain to understand the breath of life, Ruach. They were not satisfied with old thinking. All through the Bible we discover people who are on the cutting edge of thought and action. This straining to learn and to become more than we already are, has led to the quest for scientists to continually learn more about the universe.

Moses, for instance, wants to name the entity that breathed life into humans. The author/s of the story of Moses want to emphasize that the one whom they have named "God" or “LORD” is THE SUPREME BEING, (not a scientific theory, but a statement of faith and hope) so the authors created a story whereby Moses, a great leader of the Hebrew people, encounters a "being” i.e., one unlike any other being, who communicates with him" in a burning bush which is not consumed. Of course this is fantastic. It is meant to be awesome. (It also elevates Moses to a position of authority.) When Moses asks the "being" in the burning bush his/her/its name, the only answer Moses receives is, "Say to the people of Israel, 'I AM has sent me to you.'" (Exodus 3:13 ff.). "I AM" can be translated, "BEING," which also might be interpreted as "the breath of life" or "Ruach," or Spirit. In my words, “The Ultimate Spirit of life has sent me to you.”

It is also interesting that Paul Tillich attempts to find a name for God. He calls God, "The Ground of Being" or in Hebrew, the Adamah (ground) of Ruach (the breath of life.)

The Biblical writers wanted a "name" for "The Breath of Life." Thousands of years later we still want to find a "name" for the "breath of life!" The writers of the biblical books called the "breath of life" by many names: Yahweh, Spirit, LORD, Elohim, El-Shaddai, Adonai, G-d, Creator, and several others, I am sure. The name “God” became so sacred that the Hebrews were prohibited from uttering or writing it. The early church leaders called The Breath of Life by the names of Father, King, Holy Spirit, and Shepherd. The Gospel of John calls God the “Word” or Logos,” which is the force that precedes the known world. Many of the names by which we know the Breath of Life are descriptive rather than an attempt to name God. We say that God is light; God is love. Even the Trinitarian formula, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, is meant to be descriptive rather than an attempt to name God. Unfortunately, those who have been called to be leaders and spokes-persons for believers, have had other axes to grind, therefore, they have proclaimed that anyone who believes in these things will inherit eternal life; all others are lost until such time as they come to believe, a notion which must be actively rejected, for this is legalism of the highest order.

What does all of this have to say to us? This is my answer or as a preacher, my sermon: The Bible is not an authoritative set of rules, which says, "Obey" or go to hell. The Bible for me contains stories that help to teach us to grow in our understanding of all that there is to comprehend. The intellectual quest to know our creator/God/Breath of Life/Yahweh/ Elohim/Shepherd/Father is a quest that has its roots in our beginnings as modern human beings, and it is not wrong to try to discover a name that is descriptive for Ultimate Being. Most of our names will be description, rather than identification, because the one we seek to discover is unknowable by intellect alone. For me, this says, "Continue trying to find a suitable descriptive name for "The Breath of Life." It says, "Continue searching for a name that is meaningful for us, just as those who came before us searched for a name that was meaningful for them.” The implication of this is that humans must not be passive spectators but active explorers, who seek to discover all that there is in creation. The ability to do that makes us unlike anything else in all of creation. What a gift!

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Spirit of the Living God

This past Sunday our discussion group was studying Chapter Ten of Lloyd Geering’s book, ‘Christianity without God’. Chapter Ten is titled ‘Why Christianity must become non-theistic’.

Geering states, near the beginning of the Chapter, “If we think of God as ‘a superhuman person regarded as having power over nature and human fortunes’, we are using a descriptive definition. But if we take ‘God’ to refer to the highest values which motivate us, then we are using a functional definition.”

Someone mentioned the confusion this causes when we use the word ‘God’ to refer to two different things (definitions). It often becomes difficult to discern which ‘God’ the speaker or writer is referring to. Several people agreed, adding that even if one knows that the speaker is referring to the functional definition, confusion is created because of the ‘baggage’ surrounding the word ‘God’; caused by several thousand years of using the descriptive definition.

We discussed the desire to refer to the functional definition with a new or different term but this would, admittedly, cause great consternation and anxiety among those Christians who are not ready, willing or able to move away from the descriptive definition. The word ‘Ruach’ (the Hebrew word for spirit or breath of life) was mentioned. Ruach might be used to refer to “the highest values which motivate us”, i.e. love, compassion, tolerance, inclusiveness, justice. Expressed is this way, ‘the Ruach of life’, might give rise to an utterance of our new meaning for the word ‘God’.

Still, for those not disposed to advancing the intellectual integrity of the Church, this would seem unnecessary, even blasphemes.

Later, during the morning worship service, the congregation sang the familiar old hymn, ‘Spirit of the Living God’….

Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me,
Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me.
Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me.
Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me.
As I sang the words of this song, my thoughts went back to our group discussion, and I began to ask myself.... “ When we refer to the functional definition of ‘God’ as love, compassion, tolerance, inclusiveness, and justice… are we not referring to how we as humans ought interact with each other in living out our lives? Is it not a manifestation of the Ultimate expression of life itself?” And in this context are we not speaking of the ‘Spirit of a Living God’?

This thinking does not solve the confusion factor mentioned earlier, but perhaps it could serve to help those who are concerned about the baggage surrounding the word ‘God’ when used in the functional context.

I’ll let you decide…..

barry e

Dedication to Reality

Excerpt from 'The Road Less Traveled' - M. Scott Peck

….The third tool of discipline or technique of dealing with the pain of problem solving, which must be continually be employed if our lives are to be healthy and our spirits are to grow, is dedication to the truth. Superficially, this should be obvious, For truth is reality. That which is false is unreal. The more clearly we see the reality of the world, the better equipped we are to deal with the world. The less clearly we see the reality of the world – the more our minds are befuddled by falsehood, misperceptions and illusions – the less able we will be to determine correct courses of action and make wise decisions. Our view of reality is like a map with which to navigate the terrain of life. If the map is true and accurate, we will generally know where we are, and if we have decided where we want to go, we will generally know how to get there. If the map is false and inaccurate, we generally will be lost.

While this is obvious, it is something that most people to a greater or lesser degree choose to ignore. They ignore it because our route to reality is not easy. First of all, we are not born with maps; we have to make them, and the making requires effort. The more effort we make to appreciate and perceive reality, the larger and more accurate our maps will be. But many do not want to make this effort. Some stop making it by the end of adolescence. Their maps are small and sketchy, their views of the world narrow and misleading. By the end of middle age most people have given up the effort. They feel certain that their maps are complete and their Weltanschauung (worldview) is correct (indeed even sacrosanct), and they are no longer interested in new information. It is as if they are tired. Only a relative and fortunate few continue until the moment of death exploring the mystery of reality, ever enlarging and refining and redefining their understanding of the world and what is true.

But the biggest problem of map-making is not that we have to start from scratch, but that if our maps are to be accurate we have to continually revise them. The world itself is constantly changing. Glaciers come, glaciers go. Cultures come, cultures go. There is too little technology, there is too much technology. Even more dramatically, the vantage point from which we view the world is constantly and quite rapidly changing. When we are children we are dependent, powerless. As adults we may be powerful. Yet in illness or an infirm old age we may become powerless and dependent again. When we have children to care for, the world looks different from when we have none; when we are raising infants, the world seems different from when we are raising adolescents. When we are poor, the world looks different from when we are rich. We are daily bombarded with new information as to the nature of reality. If we are to incorporate this information, we must continually revise our maps, and sometimes when enough new information has accumulated, we must make very major revisions. The process of making revisions, particularly major revisions, is painful, sometimes excruciatingly painful. And herein lies the major source of many of the ills of mankind.

What happens when one has striven long and hard to develop a working view of the world, a seemingly useful, workable map, and then is confronted with new information suggesting that that view is wrong and the map needs to be largely redrawn? The painful effort required seems frightening, almost overwhelming. What we do more often than not, and usually unconsciously, is to ignore the new information. Often this act of ignoring is much more than passive. We may denounce the new information as false, dangerous, heretical, the work of the devil. We may actually crusade against it, and even attempt to manipulate the world so as to make it conform to our view of reality. Rather than try to change the map, an individual may try to destroy the new reality. Sadly, such a person may expend much more energy ultimately in defending an outmoded view of the world, than would have been required to revise and correct it in the first place.

- M. Scott Peck

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Bishop Spong Q&A

Stephen Argent of Sussex, United Kingdom, writes:

Thank you for the stimulation of your published works and weekly newsletter. My question concerns the pastoral care of those Christians who do not have the intellectual capacity or strength of character to tolerate the ambiguity of your message. Rightly or wrongly their "simple" faith sustains them and many would be fatally undermined should they be confronted by doubts concerning such issues as the virgin birth and the bodily resurrection. Is it right to leave their views unchallenged, or should gentle sensitivity necessitate a less direct approach? I am aware that I will appear patronizing in posing this question, but from your own pastoral experience how have you dealt with this matter?

Dear Stephen,

Your question is a frequent one, but in my opinion it reveals things under the surface that I believe need to be faced.

First, is your concern really for those whose "simple" faith is being disturbed by developing knowledge? Frequently I find this question asked by one who is himself disturbed, but projects it on to others.

Second, are you really suggesting that truth should be compromised for the sake of those who might not be able to understand? Does that not make religion a bit of an opiate for the people?

Third, if truth is to be compromised in the realm of the church for the sake of those who might not understand or for those you call simple believers, has not the church become totalitarian? Is that not an example of control by giving people security when they cannot deal with truth? Is such a formula followed in any other discipline of human knowledge? Is religion somehow virtuous when it does what would be deplored in any other human arena?

Fourth, the pursuit of truth in religion is never imposed on people by force. That is not the nature of liberal education. The only people who seem to me to impose specific religious answers on anyone are those evangelical Protestants or conservative Catholics who believe that they possess the unchanging truth of God.

Fifth, the task of the Christian is to love "the least of these" our brothers and sisters. Seeking to protect them from uncomfortable truth is not just patronizing as your letter suggests, it is both demeaning and dehumanizing.

Finally, one of my professors once said, "Any God who can be killed ought to be killed." To which I would add, any faith that can be undermined should be undermined. A God or a faith that needs you or me to prop it up has already died long ago. You do not need to defend a living God. Only dead gods seem to require that.

– John Shelby Spong

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