There are a couple of terms which are scheduled for inclusion in this lexicon that I mentioned in my first post regarding salvation.  It was inevitable that I do so in that context, but I just want to follow up with some added information regarding those to support and expand on how it is I used them. 
      The first is faith.  Those of us who grew up in the church know what that refers to, of course.  All of our churches had “statements of faith” of one sort or another, which you had to agree to in order to be a member.  In protestant evangelical contexts like mine it was absolutely front and center of our religion: what it is that made you a Christian, commonly known as “a believer.”  Because that’s what faith meant: what you believe.  Here let me draw in a quotation from Scripture, found in Galatians 5:  
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23gentleness and self-control (vv. 22,23)
      Wait a minute, you say: there’s nothing in there about what you believe.  Correct.  There is, however, one of the fruits of the spirit which is faithfulness and it is the exact same Greek term, pistis, that is translated elsewhere as faith.  But it does not mean belief.  It means faithfulness, trustworthiness, or in the verb form and depending on context, to trust.  But it does not mean to believe something to be true in some kind doctrinal sense.  Nevertheless, that is how I grew up understanding it and how I still think many if not most Christians still think of it and how it is taught in our churches, at least of the type I grew up in.   
     The other major problem is how this term is translated in context, particularly the “faith in Jesus” passages.  Some well known examples would be Gal. 2:16, know that a person is not justified by the works of the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ,  Phil 3:9, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, or Rom. 3:22: This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ.   Here we run into a grammatical issue, specifically the fact that in these passages the term is in the genitive, or possessive case.  The question is, who is “possessing” the “faith.”  Traditionally, of course, it is us: we possess faith in Jesus, that’s what saves us.  But the evidence is, in my view (as well as that of an increasing number of scholars) overwhelming that these passages are all subjective genitives: the subject is the one doing the possessing.  That is why in the footnote of the newest NIV translation, it will inform you of the alternate translation, “the faithfulness of Jesus.”  The fact is that prior to Luther all of the biblical texts used it that way, and usage in other ancient texts as well as elsewhere in Scripture support that as correct.  But Luther was not a great scholar of ancient languages and was working primarily from the Latin translation which is more amenable to seeing “fide” as what you believe, and hence was born “sola fide:” by faith alone, meaning it really only matters what you believe.  But it was never about what you believe, and even more to the point, it was never about you at all.  
     That is why I said what I said about faith and salvation (see that post for details).  The fact is that, intentionally or not, faith seen as what you believe became just another form of legalism for the religious gatekeepers to use in order to decide who’s in and who’s out.  It just substituted performing the right rituals for agreeing with the right dogma, and that was never the gospel.  
      So does it not matter what you believe?  Of course it does, because what you believe is going to be the basis for how you behave, what it is you are faithful to.  There are a lot of things I hold to be true about God, Jesus, Scripture etc., such as the latest example of my favorite (or not) series of local billboards seen above.  I may believe that statement to be true, but that is irrelevant to my status before God.  It does, however, effect how I show up in the world and play into what I would call my “statement of faithfulness:”  the principles I use to guide my practice.  But I no longer worry about whether I believe the right things so I go to heaven when I die, nor do I fret about spending my life trying to convince others to do so.  That understanding has resulted in a lot of freedom for me from the kinds of toxic religiosity that causes so much stress, regardless of whether that's about doing the right thing or believing the right dogma. 
​     It seems to me someone once said “the truth shall set you free.”  Someone that I trust. 


Footnote: I could quote a lot of sources, but if I take my journey on this issue back to the beginning I would have to give a lot of credit to John E. Toews and his commentary on Romans, ironically enough published as a part of the Believers Church Bible Commentary series back in 2004. 

​

On my run this morning I looked behind me and saw the sunrise.  So I sat to enjoy one of my “sunrise meditations,” a time to take a few contemplative moments to engage with this particular aspect of the manifestation of the divine.  In this case, as can happen sometimes, something came to mind that I think could lead to an intention.  It occurred to me as we begin a new year that I could pursue the intention to also manifest the divine in ways similar to that sunrise.  To be a filter, or conduit, for the light which represents the energy source which gives life to all things.  To filter it in ways that are colorful and beautiful, that add value to the life experiences of those who encounter it.  In order to be that, to exist above the problems and difficulties of a world grappling with how to stay in balance in spite of circumstances.  Just another way, I suppose, of visualizing my new motto.  Be cool, be kind.  

​

One of the questions being asked in my circles these days is whether or not there is the possibility of something good and useful arising from the wreckage of religion and Christianity in particular.  Increasingly, I have trended toward thinking that they may be, although certainly not having a lot to do with the toxic version created some hundreds of years ago by people who were not Jesus that the institutional church seems to be having such a hard time unmooring itself from.   In any event, for me that process has largely boiled down to re-defining a lot of terms and phrases that I grew up with but which mean very different things to me at this point.  To that end, I've been thinking a lot about attempting to create my own theological lexicon, a dictionary of terms and concepts the way I currently consider them.   Below is a list of those, with a comment about what I don't think they are.  What replaces that will hopefully be the subject of a series of posts over the coming months. 

-Salvation 
Not: an individual transaction to get you to heaven

-Faith
Not: belief in a dogma

-Reconciliation 
Not: God was mad at you, but now he’s OK with you

-Heaven
Not: the happy place you go when you die

-Hell
Probably this is one that should be deleted from the lexicon altogether, but for now:
Not: a place of eternal conscious torment for “non-believers” 

-sin
Absolutely a candidate for being deleted from the lexicon, but for now: 
Not: bad things you do that makes God not want to hang with you

-wrath of God
Not: God is angry with me because I’m a bad person

-forgiveness of sins
Not: God looking the other way at your "sin" (see previous definition)

-righteousness
Not: correct behavior according to your institution’s particular moral code
​
-original sin 
Not even going there on this one.  I'll just explain why it absolutely needs to be deleted from the lexicon

-Jesus Christ
Again, delete from the lexicon.  Replace with Jesus the Christ
not: God's chosen blood sacrifice so he could "forgive our sins" (see previous)

-God
Not: a being outside of creation who occasionally messes with it

Note: Amy and Peter met para-gliding, and it remains one of their go to recreational options that they enjoy together.  Also, if you want to see a video of the affair based on the songs that I wrote for the processional and the recessional, go to https://youtu.be/Ot2E-AkOyhs


Well, Amy and Peter: it appears that you’re ready to launch this thing.  I think that’s true: you seem to have done some pretty good pre-flight, things seem to be in order..
    But here’s the thing: once you turn and launch and your love is in the air, you’re committed.  None of this “I think I’ve changed my mind, I’m going to bail out of this harness” stuff.  Not without severe injury.  That’s because, in part, that there’s a sense in which the two pilots who stood on launch have become one. So the only question left to answer is, “how do we make this the best flight possible?”  
    With regard to that, let me just say that in the many years I’ve been doing so I have observed relationships falling along a continuum between 3 basic types.  The first is when both partners are primarily asking the question, “What’s in this for me? What does my partner have to offer me in this?”  Those kinds of relationships, if they’re lucky, will just be a quick sled ride to the bottom.  Otherwise they will suffer multiple collapses and eventually, inevitably, a hard landing with the only question left being how wounded will the pilots be walking away.  Because that one pilot will have been split back into two, and nobody survives being cut in half without scars. 
    Moving along the continuum, however, you can come to a relationship where at least one of the partners is primarily asking a different question, that is “what do I have to give here?,” but with the other partner mostly responding, “yeah whatchyoo got for me?  I’ll take that.”  Those are relationships that have at least a chance to maintain some altitude, but they are asymmetrical and subject to multiple partial collapses that will prevent them from ever attaining the heights that they’re capable of. 
    But if you continue along you begin to approach a type of relationship where each partner is primarily asking what it is that they have to give.  In the wisdom tradition we come from it is spoken of like this: 
    Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider the other better than yourself; not looking to your own interests, but each of you to the interests of the others. 
    Just imagine that.  Not looking to your own interests, but each of you to the interest of the other.  That’s when you get this amazing dance of people attempting to out-serve and out-give each other and there are literally no limits to how high you can go.  Bring your oxygen.  Always keeping in mind that it is about what you have to give, not just how you feel.  There are plenty of emotions in these situations, as there should be, but those are not what will take you the distance.  It is love manifested in concrete acts of selfless service that will do the trick.  
    But that is only half of this wing called marriage.  The other half is just as important and is simply this:  mercy.  Grace.  Forgiveness, because newsflash, Amy: in spite of the epic quality of the DNA he has inherited, Peter is a flawed human.  Likewise Peter, in spite of her beauty and charm, her joyful demeanor and intelligence and immense ability to love…dogs.  And some humans, Amy is also not perfect.  And let’s face it: perfection is boring.  Plus, it doesn’t get us anywhere.  Because nothing grows unless it’s stressed and in every crisis is an opportunity. 
    It is these two halves of the wing: mutual, selfless, sacrificial service as well as the mercy and grace necessary when one falls short, that is rightly spoken of as unconditional love: rumored by some to be not just a characteristic of, but the very nature of the divine, as well as what we are called to reflect in this world.  So pursuing your relationship in these kinds of ways becomes one of the ways in which you pursue your very purpose in life.  This is a big deal you're getting yourselves into. 
    So here is my charge to each of you as individuals and the two of you as a couple:  every day of your relationship, so long each of you endures, make every effort to take advantage of what I guarantee will be the multiple opportunities for selfless sacrificial acts of service and unyielding grace.  If you do this the wing of your marriage will stay inflated and stable, able to handle the turbulent air that will come as well as to take full advantage of the nice lifty thermals that will take you to the heights you’re capable of.  There will be adventurous days and bumpy days and days when you will be soaring along on that smooth buttery air, as the reverend Jesse would say.  And ultimately you will come to a nice soft landing.  Amy will remember to flair, and I along with all those here, those who wish they could be, and those yet to come who will be on your side, will celebrate with you here and now and we will celebrate with our then and there.  Because there’s a party over there. 

​

Sunday I managed a long overdue wander through the woods, eventually finding myself in Todd Creek Redwood grove above Saratoga.  These sorts of meanderings seem to be particularly helpful in processing whatever it is that is currently stewing in my brainpan.  Simmering near the top of the stew lately, especially given that my wife and I both lost our fathers recently, is this whole “what happens when we die?” question.  Lately I have run into various posts/podcasts on the question of whether our consciousness endures, as well as the latest from the world of quantum weirdness: to wit, it appears that rather than asking how consciousness derived from matter, what we should be asking is how matter derived from consciousness, the true building block of the universe.  That makes my brain melt, I’ll admit, but on the other hand seems consistent with a creation narrative as I have understood that, as well as aligned with my current thinking on the nature of the divine.  Rather than the bearded dude separate from creation “out there” somewhere, I am much more inclined toward  considering God as “I Am,” pure existence, and as being “over all and through all and in all:” the reality we all live in the midst of and are a part of,  “In whom we live and move and have our being,” if you will.  It would certainly be theologically and scientifically consistent, in my mind, to call that consciousness God. 

So there I am, finally at the grove after too long of a hike (took a bit of a rabbit trail for a bit, quite literally, before it petered out) and I found myself thinking about the dads and asking, “Are you there?  Are you now a part of that consciousness that undergirds reality?  Are we here together?” Then came one of those memorable mystical moments that sometimes occur on occasions like that, and the answers in the affirmative were as clear as if they had been spoken.  

I have always had the notion that our consciousness endures, something the tradition I come from certainly affirms.  But that has always assumed a distinct disconnect between realities, “going to heaven,” wherever that is, but it certainly isn’t here.  In this case what was particularly meaningful to me about the experience was the sense of presence that felt more like an overlap than a disconnect.  Considering the way in which their present spiritual reality and my physical reality were connecting in that grove reminded me of another time years ago as I sat by a stream in a different part of the forest (same mountains).  I was pursuing a contemplative moment when my prayers became words which became sounds which became melded with the sound of the stream and turned into music: an interplay of melody, rhythm, harmony and yes, meaning, that was so incalculably complex even Beethoven or Frank Zappa wouldn’t have been able to understand it’s structure.  But they would have been entranced as I by the immeasurable beauty of it all.  And I was a part of it, integrally integrated into the substance of creation.  It was a completely overwhelming experience made more so by the sure knowledge that I had the barest hint of what that existence is really like.  Last Sunday at Todd Creek Redwoods, I felt the presence of those who had so recently passed and thought about the chance they were experiencing in its fullness that which I had only glimpsed, and I was glad for them.  

Then I wondered, we seem so near and so intertwined in spite of our current realities, could they manifest in this world if they chose?  I have no idea, actually, but if they are experiencing the complete reality that I had only a glimpse of, why should they?  They don’t need to come back for dolphin rides: they experience everything because they are a part of it.*  However, I considered one who did choose to incarnate at one point, someone who did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself human, and offered us an example and teachings as to how to manifest the God consciousness in this world.  He died, as do we all, but apparently didn’t stay that way.  And that is spoken of in the sacred texts of my tradition as something that reconciled not just every human, but the entire cosmos, whether “things on earth or things in heaven” to God.  Somehow all that exists in the physical and spiritual realms were brought into alignment with a plan and a purpose.  The hows and the whys and the (quantum) mechanics of that are beyond me.  But in speaking about his conviction that this “resurrection” is destined to be a universal phenomenon for everyone, Paul elaborates what the end game is pretty well, I think.  In his central discourse on the subject in 1 Cor. 15, he speaks of a process of defeating those things that are not in alignment with the prime objective until finally God is “all in all.”  To me that is a picture of finally getting to the point where there are no boundaries between the physical and the spiritual, and the little overlaps like I experienced become the totality.  Death itself is spoken of as the final enemy to be destroyed, so there is no more going from “here” to “there,” because here and there become one thing.  This is the mystery of God’s will to be completed when everything is fulfilled spoken of by the author of Ephesians: “to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth.”  

My thinking on stuff like this continues to evolve, but at this point here’s what I can say regarding where I’m at on this whole “what happens after you die?” thing: 

1. Something. Consciousness endures.
   
2. It’s all good.  There’s nothing to be afraid of here.  Also, like all the rest of us humanoids, not everything about either dad I reconnected with in the grove was what I would consider to be completely aligned with the God who is love.  But the sense I got was that anything that wasn’t had been shed at that point.**
   
3. I’m not convinced that death is the end of our contribution.  I like to think that we become a more integral part of the continuing process of creation evolving.
   
4. I’m also not convinced death is the end of our own evolution.  I’ll concede the possibility that as we integrate into the larger reality, our individual selves continue to evolve in some way.
   
5. Finally, the big deal: The answer to this question is not the big deal.  I grew up believing that was the most important question, maybe the only one that mattered.  I now think it really doesn’t matter in any practical sense regarding how we live our lives.  Paul ends his grand dissertation on resurrection with the actual big deal: “always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”
   

For me, that means that everything I do in this life which is aligned with the objective of the God who is love- every act of compassion, service, caring for the marginalized, all the kinds of stuff Jesus showed and taught about how to manifest God consciousness: all of it is a piece of the process of getting to the goal, and I believe a piece of the process of getting me to become a more useful part of the program now and even after my Zoom memorial (God help us all). 

All of creation is saturated with meaning and purpose and hopefulness as it continues to evolve toward a positive goal the nature of which none of us can possibly imagine, but every day we are a part of the process, now until time itself no longer exists.  

I’m all good with that. 

*in discussing this with a friend, he mentioned to me that the story of the transfiguration might be an example of a possible answer to that question.  Why didn’t I think of that?

** see 1 Cor. 3:10-15, among other passages, for a description of this sort of process



 

​

My father in law and I had a unique relationship, especially as it relates to our spiritual journies.  The video below has some intel about that, feel free to get in touch if you have questions or want to chat about just what the heck I'm talking about.  Rest in peace, Werner. 

Up until now my family has been mercifully spared from trajedy due to Covid 19.  But now dad is among the statistics, which never had to be as large as they were.  That pisses me off, not gonna lie, but I hope we're all still doing what we can to support our immune systems as well as the societal systems that will help us get to the other side of this thing.