The deference and obedience for and of figures of authority had been eroded by a series of catastrophic military blunders by the upper class military officers, blunders that had cost millions of working-class Tommies their lives. Attitudes towards the Church also changed as people looked for changes in the balance of power in society and demanded solutions to the problems in life that put control into their own hands, rather than relying on an unseen omnipresent being. A being who had appeared sometimes to forsake them in the muddy trenches of Belgium and France. Living in the UK, we are a member of a tiny group of countries who have a state Church. Others include the Scandinavian countries of Denmark, Finland and Norway, Georgia, Greece, Iceland and The People’s Republic of China. The Church of England, in its present form, was initiated by King Henry VIII when his divorce from Catherine of Aragon was disputed by the Roman Catholic Church. It lead to the dissolution of the monasteries and made the ties between the church and state much closer. The process has continued, to the point where when a statement by the Archbishop of Canterbury on a political or economic topic now produces comments in the media and on social networks suggesting that his role should be confined to matters of the soul rather than issues generally concerning the government. Further indications that society is more comfortable with being influenced by secular elements than by religious establishments.

The central concept of Karma in Buddhism, the application of the laws of cause and effect to replace the ideas of a god or of the existence of some form of fate, allows people to take back control of the events in their lives and lets them feel that they, rather than the omnipresent being are shaping the course of those events. Whilst this control is accompanied by the responsibility for all their thoughts, words and deeds, it does hand back the power to control their own lives. In conjunction with the all encompassing acceptance of all people, of whatever gender, colour or creed, Buddhism has an inclusive, rather than an exclusive attitude to life. There has been much said in the media about the argument within the Anglican Church regarding the ordination of women bishops and the role that they are allowed to play within the Church. Such a conflict would be unthinkable in Buddhism, as each person is accepted on their merit, rather than their gender, and this also causes a pressure for people to shun the state religion, as they see the latent hypocrisy evident in the argument.

Nichiren Buddhism also demands that we test, or question, the effectiveness of our Practice. Christianity, to a greater or lesser degree, discourages the questioning of the principles of its faith. Many would argue that questioning those principles would be the antithesis of faith, but Buddhism disagrees. If we are to practice a faith, simply because of its existence, rather than because of its effectiveness, we may just as well worship the Fairies at the bottom of the garden. If we are to believe that the mere questioning of their existence makes us less devout, then I would suggest that we are being asked to adopt a form of selective blindness and to live with that disability.

Secular attitudes are, I believe, the natural result of the failure of religion to provide the answers to the questions life poses. The domination of the religious establishments has been ebbing away as the populous votes with its feet. The decline of church congregation numbers is the effect of religion becoming seen as less and less relevant in life. If it could be shown that those who attend church every Sunday were happier, healthier, richer or more successful, I’m sure we would see attendances rising. Sadly that is not the case. Not, of course, that Buddhism can prove its worth in this way either. Some of my Buddhist friends are wealthy, some are not, some are healthy, others are not. What I can say, and would argue that a formal survey would support, is that they are amongst the happiest people around. Not because they accept their lot, or give up their possessions, they most certainly do not. It’s not because they do not have aims or goals in life, on the contrary, they have very high expectations of themselves.

I believe that the main difference, and the thing that makes Nichiren Buddhism a real contender for the title ‘The Secular Religion’ is because it has not gods, it has no commandments, it makes no demands on the individual at all. What it does do, is to give back control, through Karma, to everyone who practices. It demands that you test the effectiveness of that practice and if it is found to be lacking, that you stop practicing. If the cause of the rise in the secular nature of society is the desire to wrest control away from the religious establishment, then Nichiren has that covered too. There is no hierarchy, in fact those with more experience are seen to nurture those with less experience. So, accepting that I might possibly be a little biased towards Nichiren, I would suggest, that if any religion can fit seamlessly into a secular society, Nichiren Buddhism is that religion, or philosophy for life as I prefer to see it. Of course, as with all things Nichiren, the choice is entirely down to you.

© 2012 Anupadin, The Search for Enlightenment

Thank you for allowing me to vent a little before diving into a topic that has shown up at least twice in the media since the assignment was given, that being religion, and the secular media. This is one of the things that really got me mad. The day I started my first draft for this post, former child television star Kirk Cameron was in the news about his stance on gay marriage. I was really interested in that because I watched the program he was on when I was a kid. I also knew that Kirk essentially left the entertainment business to start his own ministry. That post came to a screeching halt a few days later as Dan Savage, presenting to high school students in California to discuss bullying, turned his presentation into Bible/Christian bashing, subsequently offending more than a handful of Christian students who left the presentation. For a speech about anti-bullying, he set that movement back a metric ton with his performance, but his credibility with those that bash on Christianity probably went through the roof. The secular media has been bashing us for a long while, and here are two great examples that were virtually back-to-back headlines. I have to say that I’m tired of several things, but mostly the hatred. It is on both sides of the fence, and in my humble opinion, there isn’t anyone who doesn’t have some blood on their hands, pun intended.

The goal of Christianity is to follow Christ, and live by his word. Another goal is to spread the good news about the Gospel. What many, many Christians fail to remember is the “good news” part when discussing the Gospel. Completely ignoring that, and opting for aggressive “in your face” evangelism has done absolutely nothing to further the good news of Christ’s promise. I contend it has set us back. Way back. Had I not already been a card-carrying member of the family, I don’t think I would give Christianity a second look, or even a first, given some of the tactics I see making the airwaves. In short, I don’t blame people for not wanting to listen. There is a movie, one of my favorite of all time, titled “Mr. Mom”. While Michael Keaton’s character is taking his kids to school, he drives the wrong way through the school parking lot during a rain storm causing a significant traffic problem. A parking attendant asking him to roll down his window in the middle of the storm masterfully delivers the line, “You’re doing it wrong.” That is how way too many Christians are delivering their message. Our job, as I see it, is to share the Gospel, and let people decide on their own. Easier said than done I’d say, but that is the general idea. It really, truly bothers me that people, with the best intentions, butcher the word of Christ in the name of who knows what, but it sure isn’t the Christianity that I know. It’s no wonder that the secular media is having a field day with Christians!

On the other hand we have the secular media, once a proud profession that seemed to have a better grasp of ethics yesterday than today, has turned itself into a day time talk show as ratings are now more important than news. With so much airtime to fill, news is more opinion than just the five W’s of who, what, when, where, and why. It has become quite popular to call Christians to the carpet, and I think in some instances, it is deserved. However, the secular media for the most part, doesn’t give Christianity the opportunity to explain things (or do Christians fail to adequately make their argument?). If people really wanted to hear the apologetics of Christianity, they have to find religious outlets to find the answers. The bottom line for me is that it is easy to bash Christianity, and profitable. It took years to mess it up, and it will take years to fix it. Of one thing I am confident, the America that our forefathers helped design and build is not the America in which I live today. It is a sad commentary, but as I indicated earlier, I’m in a foul mood so I’m going to roll with it.

What I love about the homophilosophicus project is that there is no presumption of being right. It isn’t the goal. In fact the only way the forum really works is because being right isn’t on the agenda. Once that is taken out of the equation, only then is real conversation able to happen. It goes back to the importance of dialogue, our inaugural offering. We have to be able to talk with each other without the desired outcome of someone having to be right. Given that position, I would offer that words have meaning. The Bible says in Matthew 15:11 “It is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth; this defiles a person.” As a people, we have been way too loose with the words we use, they truly can defile a person. Both Christians, and the secular media could stand to revisit what Jesus told us. I would hope that even non-Christians could agree on that. On that closing note, I find that I need to do a couple of things. First of all, I’m going to donate to SMA in Avery’s name. Lastly, I’m going open my Bible to find some peace as there is a rumor that God can provide that for a person. Peace.

© 2012 Kurt Alderman, The Jimmy Monologues

The survivors are those who have come through the torment of abuse and the continual pain of memory to be with us today. Many remain anonymous; too ashamed to come forward and tell their story. Others have stood in the high court and given evidence against their attackers. They have written book and appeared on radio and television shows to bear witness to their suffering and the suffering of others. Many of the perpetrators have been convicted and sent to prison for their crimes and seemingly the Church has been toppled from its privileged place in Irish society and forever lost its moral authority. On the surface it would appear that justice has been done, and certainly the ability for persons in the Church to utilise their position to abuse others has been seriously curtailed. The Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, in 2010 sent a letter of apology to the people of Ireland. Surely, one would think that now the conditions are right for the process of reconciliation and even possibly of forgiveness to begin. This has been the spin the hierarchy of the Catholic Church in Ireland has put on the current state of affairs. Not all things, however, are that simple. One of the troubling realities of our human condition is that abuse happens. As wonderful as human beings have the potential to be, we know and understand that people are capable of the most heinous and vile outrages against others. It is for this very reason that society should, as far as is possible, put rigorous measures in place to protect the rights and dignity of individuals and groups; especially the most vulnerable in our communities.

As sad as it is, abuse does happen, and it happens within families and in every part of human society. We must always strive tirelessly to halt this whenever it happens or when people are in danger of being abused, but this abuse is not the totality of the scandal in Ireland. Had people within the Church abused vulnerable people, sexually or otherwise, and those people expelled from the orders of the Church and brought to justice before civil magistrates with the full cooperation of their ecclesiastical superiors, this matter would now be over. The Church might still have the respect of the people. This was not what happened. The very highest authorities in the Catholic Church in Ireland and in Rome colluded, in a culture of strict secrecy and ‘unhelpful deference,’ to preserve the reputation of the institution by silencing victims, relocating offenders to different communities where they were unknown and wilfully withheld evidence from the legal authorities of the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. This, and precisely this, is the nature of the scandal.

As this article is being written Dr. Seán Brady, the Cardinal Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of all Ireland, remains the spiritual head of Ireland’s Roman Catholics. As a young canon lawyer in 1975 he was appointed by his bishop to investigate allegations of child sex abuse by the Norbertine priest, Father Brendan Smyth; later discovered to be one of Ireland’s most prolific child sex offenders. Interviewing one twelve year old boy, without the support of a parent or guardian and in the company of two other priests, Brady gathered information which was later corroborated by another child. In the course of these secret interviews the investigating team attempted to ascertain whether the children had encouraged their abuser to abuse them, if they had engaged in like behaviour with other boys their own age and if they had gotten erections and received sexual pleasure from the repeated abuse. At the conclusion of both interviews each child was asked to sign a statement promising their silence; a promise which was kept for many years in the trust that the crime would be ‘dealt with.’ It is disturbing in the extreme that in 1975 a boy of twelve understood the effects of the abuse to the extent that he would approach another priest for help, and yet today a much older Seán Cardinal Brady claims that as a thirty-six year old canon lawyer and educator he had no inkling of the effects such abuse would have on these children.

Dutifully Father John Brady, as he was then known, handed this evidence to his bishop ‘for action,’ who in turn passed it to Father Brendan Smyth’s superior. Against what would seem a natural response to such disclosure Seán Brady later neither told the parents of the children or otherwise enquired after their well-being, nor did he approach his bishop to ensure ‘action’ had been taken. In the years that followed, Seán Brady, was sent to Rome to further studies and rose through the ranks of the Irish Catholic hierarchy until November 1996 when he was installed as the Archbishop of Armagh; the most senior cleric in the Irish Catholic Church. In November 2007 he was created the Cardinal-Priest of Saints Quirico and Guilitta by Pope Benedict XVI. A meteoric career in comparison to another priest, Father Bruno Mulvihill, another Norbertine who did everything in his power to have Smyth brought to justice. The reward for his efforts was exile from Ireland and an early death in an automobile accident inGermany. Let it never be said that the mechanisms of the Catholic hierarchy do not reward loyalty and punish dissent.

Where in this can one begin to speak about forgiveness? For the victims silenced now by their eternal rest, the right of forgiveness lies with God alone; a God who hears the voice of our sisters and brothers crying from the soil. Neither can we speak of the right of forgiveness of the survivors. Forgiveness is theirs alone, and a painful and agonising cross for them alone. One certainly finds it repugnant that they be asked to forgive. The Church has made victims too of all Catholics and of all Christians who see themselves as belonging to that broken and wounded body that is the whole Church; the community of all the baptised. How can we forgive? As an apologist for that greater, universal, idea of Church, one finds it frustrating speaking with people who, understandably, reject and ridicule all articulations of Church on such cyber-spaces as the Facebook ‘Remove Seán Cardinal Brady’ campaign. A disambiguation of this word Church has to be continually made. There is only one Church; broken and divided as it is over the face of the world. Within a Western Catholic context we speak of Church with multiple definitions; on the one hand Church is a victim in that Church here is understood as that community of believers, gathered in faith together around Jesus Christ in suffering and at prayer. On the other hand Church is the perpetrator; that exclusive hierarchical society of men who have arrogated power and authority to themselves, and who maintain such power behind veils of secrecy and intrigue. It is this latter Church I reject, and the former I embrace with all my heart. For it is only within this community that the Christian can begin to articulate the road map to forgiveness.

This is a call for radical reform; for communal ownership and responsibility in the community where ethics and justice are the mother’s milk. It is this Church which is the enemy of wickedness and vice which is both within and below that hierarchical Church, and yet it is this confessing Church which is the Body of Christ. This holy Body, whose head is Christ himself, has in the Spirit of God all authority to demand shepherds and trust that the Lord will send them. We have the right, the duty and the obligation to insist that our religious sisters and brothers, deacons, priests and bishops are people who inspire within the community the bravery and conviction of saints and martyrs by virtue of their own lives. Seán Brady and others may have been weak in the face of a tyrannical hierarchy, they may even have been malicious in their desire to protect the image of their Church, but this moral cowardice does not a Christian shepherd make. The Church is a hospital for the weak and the recovering sinner, by all means, but the frontline medics must be not sick.

Forgiveness comes at the price, the costly price, of justice and truth. So the road to forgiveness is one which must first pass the tollbooth of reform and revolutionary transformation. The sick limbs must be severed and new limbs grafted on from the teeming pool of courageous women and men who are the pillars of the Church which is within and below. A Church which is the prophetic voice to a world that hurts must be one in which Christ is in the vision in all eyes that see Her, in all ears that hear Her and in all hearts within Her. This, and only this, I bind unto myself today.

© 2012 homophilosophicus

Seek ye the LORD while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near: Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the LORD, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. (Isaiah 55:6,7)

The principles and concepts that under-gird promises such as quoted above echo across the pages of the Holy Bible from the first book, Genesis, to the final pages of Revelation. They reveal a Creator God who, despite being despised, maligned, ignored, disobeyed, and/or being treated presumptuously by every living creature upon the planet (“For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”  Romans 3:23) , in contradistinction to what many religions portray and what most individuals believe, is earnestly and passionately awaiting the slightest reason, the most meagre of excuses,  to forgive, to show mercy, and to pardon.

Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; Learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow. Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. (Isaiah 1:16-18)

Thirty five odd years ago at age 24, after too many years spent in quiet but determined refusal to acknowledge or consider  God, His ways or His people,  and imbibing in practices and substances and a lifestyle which pleased me well, but impinged greatly on other’s rights and freedoms, I was asked a question that challenged me to the core.

“Do you think the life you are leading is pleasing to God?”

Today, after all these years, I like to think that my immediate response was a humble expression tending toward the negative, however, in light of what transpired later in the evening, I think that possibly my response initially may have been more of a non-committal grunt. I was at that time in no mood to consider religion, despite the fact that the questioner was a reasonably attractive young woman and the daughter of a Presbyterian minister. Not attractive enough to induce in me a change of lifestyle for her benefit; I was quite content with my life, or so I thought thank-you very much. I was happily single and had a well paying job; a little cottage in the country side adjacent to some of the best surf beaches in New Zealand was my home; I was debt free and little or no responsibilities and parked outside was a vehicle of no mean repute to get me anywhere  I wanted to go. Life was good. For what purpose did I need God?

Several hours later however the question still rang in my ears. Was God pleased with the way I was living? Well, was He? The question kept hammering at my brain until I began asking it myself. I think it was at that moment that God knew that He had me. Because until that time, I didn’t need to answer the question if I didn’t want to. But the moment I began asking it of myself, it demanded a reply. And because of the importance of the question, it demanded an intelligent and honest reply. And the answer was simply no. Not by any stretch of the imagination, nor by any indulgence in mental or spiritual gymnastics, could I rightly and honestly justify my behaviour or lifestyle before a holy and righteous God. And it was as I was laying on my back contemplating these things that very night when I admitted as much. I took a long and honest look at myself and didn’t like what I saw. So I asked God for His forgiveness, and to make my life something that He could attach His name to without being ashamed. You see, until that night if anyone had asked me if I was a Christian, I would have replied in the affirmative. I believed in God. Sure, I had done a few things wrong, but I hadn’t killed anyone. At least not yet. I wasn’t that bad. I was judging myself however by human standards. It wasn’t that young daughter of a Presbyterian minister that was asking me that question all afternoon and into the evening. It was God Himself through His Holy Spirit. For a while I thought I could ignore the question; there had been in the past the odd moment that such religious conversations had come up on the beach, in the pub, at work, but I dutifully ignored them and by and by they would slip away into forgetfulness until the next time. This time however it didn’t go away. There was no-one else present to talk to to distract me. The surf was non-existent. As far as human companionship was concerned, I was alone, with only that question rattling around inside of me for company.

I had grown up in a church which taught auricular confession to a priest. There was no priest there that night. Just me and God. As far as I can remember, I didn’t confess any specific sin. Rather, I confessed my entire lifestyle. As I surveyed my past years, I could think of nothing good to commend it. No mitigating circumstances to lessen the guilt of a life devoid of godliness, a life empty of any spiritual worth. I have come to realise since, and the scriptures teach the same, that a life without God is a life of death. It is a life without hope, a life without substance.

Why did God choose to come to me that day, and issue me with that challenge? I don’t know, but perhaps He knew something I didn’t. That deep down I knew, if I was willing to be honest, that I wanted something better. Something other than the superficial. Something more than window dressing and good-times. I suppose my prayer that night, as far as prayers go, was fairly simple. Nothing ornate, or even overly religious. I wasn’t kneeling, I wasn’t in church, I didn’t own nor had ever read a Bible; just a simple “Please make my  life one that you would approve of.”

I didn’t know what to expect as a result of that prayer. I wasn’t even giving that any consideration. My focus was being honest with God, and giving Him the opportunity to do whatever He needed to do. How He did it, and when, was up to Him. What did happen though would have been the last thing I expected if I had thought about it. The moment that prayer was uttered God personally stepped into my room, and into my life. My confession and admission of guilt was all the reason and excuse He needed to flood my room with His love, and to tell me I was forgiven. Not with words, because He didn’t need to speak. I knew. His presence was powerful, palpable, and very, very real. Have you ever been bear-hugged by love itself? I wept with joy for several hours until I fell asleep, and awoke in the morning a different person.

Everything around me was tangibly different. Colours were brighter, light was clearer, the house itself felt as if a great burden had been lifted from its roof, and best of all, I had this most marvellous sense of peace in the depths of my being; forgiveness. Guiltlessness. Freedom from all and any condemnation. And I knew that my life would never be the same again.

Without knowing it, I had experienced what the scriptures describe as a new birth. I was born again. The man that got out of bed that morning was a completely different person than the one that got in. And it wasn’t from a decision on my part to change my life, but rather a decision on my part to allow God to change it. God isn’t interested in our feeble attempts at self improvement. Nor does He desire that we change things in order to please or impress Him before we come to Him. He accepts us as we are. Dirty, tired, addicted, sick, unhealthy, disabled, downcast, depressed, fearful, dysfunctional, abused and abusive, the kingdom of God is a come-as-you-are affair; God is in the miracle business, He knows what is best for you, what your needs are.

It starts with confession, followed by forgiveness which is a promise written with the blood of His Son. It continues with a new creation which is daily transformed by the power , the grace, and the love of a dutiful Father who is faithful to the end, and promises never to let you go, and finishes with a life recreated in the image of God, and an eternity of joy and happiness that will ever increase as we learn more and grow closer to our Saviour and Redeemer. And in the words of Ellen White, from her book “The Great Controversy.”

The great controversy is ended. Sin and sinners are no more. The entire universe is clean. One pulse of harmony and gladness beats through the vast creation. From Him who created all, flow life and light and gladness, throughout the realms of illimitable space. From the minutest atom to the greatest world, all things, animate and inanimate, in their unshadowed beauty and perfect joy, declare that God is love.

© 2012 Brendan James, Repairing the Breech

If we look at ourselves in the mirror and see the reflection, who are we looking at? The person who is guilty of making mistakes, or the person who doesn’t make any? Kind of an interesting exercise. Catholics often self-brand themselves, and each other as guilty of sin, sometimes in a comical way; there are many jokes that go along with that idea. There is also often a sliver of truth in most jokes. The case holds true here, a sliver of truth in all of us being guilty. Well, being loosely affiliated with Catholicism, Lutheran’s can own some of those same jokes, even if we Lutheran’s don’t own the market on jokes about guilt. Why is that? Why do people feel guilty? I would say the reason is that because we are humans created by God, we all (should) feel guilt if we kill someone, if we do anything out of the will of God. If it feels like I have gotten off track with forgiveness, I apologize, but I think no conversation of forgiveness can be had without mentioning guilt. I was guilty today. I need to ask God for forgiveness by confessing to Him what I did wrong, and what I did wrong, and wasn’t aware of. As a Christian, I need to go before the lord, and ask him to forgive me. There is a song by country western singer Randy Travis titled “I’m gonna have a little talk with Jesus”, it is one of my favorites. It talks about guilt, and the restored relationship with God each time he prays. It’s a great tune, and if you like genre of music, I would guess you’ll like it too. I would even think if you didn’t like the genre of music, you might like it. I digress.

I think the capacity to forgive is more for the person who forgives, than for the person receiving forgiveness. “What?!” you say. Yes, that’s what I think. Take for example the real story of my mother, born in 1938, in Germany. A quick run through of your history, and you would find that time frame had her squarely involved in WWII, even though she was just a child. She has vivid memories of the war, tragic, and traumatic memories. In fact the village she grew up in has memorials with the names of all the men who died during WWI and WWII. This is a village that has what looks to be thousands of names. Can you imagine? Sparing the details, she and her friends had a choice to make when the war ended: forgive or don’t forgive. I know some of her friends that did not forgive, and sadly they have lived what I would call bankrupt lives; angry (and rightly so) about the loss, the memories, the trauma. I get the impression some her friends still harbor a good deal of anger that they took to their graves. My mom, bless her heart, chose to forgive, to let go, to not harbor the anger and frustration. She never forgot, but she never let the pain rule her life either. She made a conscious decision to let it go, to forgive. She has been a happier, healthier person for it.

I have taken the lesson that my mom taught me, and applied it to my own guilt complex. We all make mistakes, some small, others incomprehensible. My own view of the world is that we all let people down, we do horrible things to each other in the name of power, greed, money, and revenge to name but a few. It doesn’t’ matter as to the reasons why we do things, but the fact remains that we do. We are also capable of amazingly beautiful things, gestures to our fellow people, acts of kindness. It often goes un-reported, un-rewarded. Why is that? The good we do often flies under the radar. That may be a post in of itself, but to be honest, good doesn’t sell news papers.

I could spend the rest of my life describing the frailty of the human condition, but I’d rather take the guilt that comes from doing wrong, drop to my knees, and ask forgiveness, and live in the promise that I’m forgiven. Why? The simple answer is that I can’t control what others do or think. I can influence, but I can’t control. I can, however, control what I do, and what I think. When I make mistakes I can ask the lord to show me the error in my ways. I have the power to forgive, even if I don’t know how to. I have the power of a relationship with God. That is the most important thing, my relationship with God. I guess the bottom line is that a person could do a lot to me, and I hope I have the capacity to forgive. If I don’t then God and I have something to work on, and God doesn’t leave unfinished business.

Our ability and capacity to forgive is only limited by our relationship with God, or our willingness to seek the lord for guidance. He gave my mom the ability to change her mind. That act alone, one that she has spent her life working on, has freed her to be happy. We must also forgive, as that allows us to be forgiven. It would be difficult for me to ask for forgiveness if I harbored anger towards people that ‘Did me wrong!’ I would simply be an angry person without hope of something better. Being angry isn’t a good way to go about living. Being a Christian isn’t a guarantee of an easy life. Far from it. The ability to forgive is a difficult task, but if God tells us to forgive without limit, I’d be hard pressed to argue that he’s wrong. I can say this from personal experience, that life is better when you take the time to forgive.

© 2012 Kurt Alderman, The Jimmy Monologues

Everyone had told us to wait a while before marrying, live a little, grow up and discover yourself, all very wise in hindsight, but we knew best and we ignored the advice. I couldn’t point to one single issue that brought it to a head, but basically we were growing apart, wanting very different things from life, and something had to give. It was the start of the jogging era and I took to it like a duck to water. I would run every day, out on the road for hours. Returning home, the selfish use of my time would cause arguments and the arguments caused me to stay out longer and longer. Of course, looking back, I should have been looking at my behaviour and realising my mistake, but I was very selfish back then. So it went on, more running, marathons and other events that took me away from the family, but also took me away from the pain of the arguments. Worse still, the bickering was affecting the children and the atmosphere was getting worse and worse. We had to do something, but still I refused to see that my actions were causing the pain.

It all came to a head one weekend. I had no events to get me away from the strife, so when my wife suggested that we talk about the options, I literally had nowhere to run. So we talked and we talked, far more than we had ever talked before, and the truth of the situation became very clear. We had to break the vicious circle, for the sake of the children if for no other reason, and we decided that we would split up for a set period, to see how we felt about things after being apart. Of course, the rest of the family were very upset. They wanted to help, they wanted us to resolve the differences and stay together. My father-in-law, a very successful, powerful and rather outspoken man arranged to see me, to discuss the situation and, in his mind, to put me straight. I was hurting his daughter and he was going to put a stop to all this.

Resolve it he did. A week or so later, having refused to change my decision to separate temporarily, I received a letter from a solicitor telling me that I was being sued for divorce. It was a huge shock and I reacted badly, getting angry and saying that it was fine with me, that I would go along with the divorce and we would go our own ways. Of course it wasn’t as simple as that. My father-in-law played merry hell with my life at every opportunity over the months that followed. He telephoned my parents and threatened me with court action over the repayment of a loan. He interfered with a new relationship I had formed and was generally the cause of as much pain as he could be. The rift between the two families was painful and a lot of hurtful things were said by both sides. As with many divorces, the friends and families feel that they have to take sides, and it ended with me being the black sheep in the whole proceedings. A badge of dishonour I am still wearing, to some extent, to this very day, even though it all happened decades ago.

But life moves on. My ex remarried and now has a wonderful family around her. Her husband made a fantastic job of bringing up my two daughters, with all the trials and tribulations that involved. So, again in hindsight, splitting up all those years ago resulted in happiness for those involved, albeit after a lot of pain and anguish. So what has all this got to do with forgiveness? Well time, they say, is a great healer, and that may well have some truth in it. But if the parties involved in such a messy breakup are determined to stick to their guns, no length of time alone will ever heal the wounds. I’ve changed a great deal in the last few years, partly because I am older and hopefully wiser, but also because my Buddhist practice has forced me to look at things from the other person’s viewpoint and to be brutally honest about what I see. Seeing yourself for who you really are, not who you believe, or would like to think you are, is extremely painful. Particularly when you really don’t like what you see. So I’ve been working hard at being a better person, someone I am happy to be.

Since my daughters have grown up, and certainly since the birth of their children, my grandchildren, we have been able to grow closer again. I always felt that I was the injured party, but looking back, though their eyes, I see how wrong I was to feel that way. They have plenty of reasons to hate me for my part in their past, and they have been quite blunt about the way they felt about me, and that has been painful for us all.

My ex and both of my daughters live in Bristol and in the past few months I have been fortunate enough to meet a wonderful lady who also lives in the city. I have been able to spend far more time with both Charlotte and Hannah, as well as their children, and we have grown closer almost day by day. Hannah, who is the more outspoken of the two, has been able to see the changes in me and to forgive me for my mistakes. Charlotte is being a little more reserved, partly because, being the older of the two, I know she has more vivid memories of the bad old days. But she too is being more forgiving and although she has always been very loving, we are growing much closer as well.

The strangest, and for me, the most amazing transformation has been within me. At the Christening of Charlotte’s youngest son a few weeks ago, I found myself sitting talking to my ex father-in-law after the ceremony. He was telling me about the terrible time he is having, nursing his wife, my ex mother-in-law, through severe dementia. So painful were the details of her condition and their suffering, that he was reduced to tears. That proud, even arrogant man I used to detest, sitting there, pouring his heart and soul out to me. In that moment I completely forgave him for what he had done to me and my family and put my arm around his shoulder to try to console him. Forgiveness truly is an amazing thing. It has given me back the love of my daughters, something I cherish and thought I may never have again. It has also shown me that I have changed, so much so, that I can freely give my feelings of compassion to someone I used to loath. If forgiveness can bring about such transformations, then it surely is is the ultimate gift.

© 2012 Anupadin, The Search for Enlightenment

I gaped at the phone in confusion. I knew that voice, didn’t I? But he didn’t recognize mine, thought I was my brother.

“Who is this?” I said, dreading the answer.

“It’s Henry.”

I wanted to end the call, to turn off the phone, to hide it behind a wall in the basement like an ugly secret from my past. Because his voice was the past, come out of the dark night of memory like a taloned predator and I was afraid.

But there was nothing for it but to buck up and deal with it.

“Henry,” I said, “it’s not Larry. It’s your other brother. Your baby brother.”

He was as stunned as I was. We had not spoken in more than ten years and I doubt that we would have done so ever again. But mother had given him my number without my knowledge and he had confused it with another and here we were, and he was asking me about my family and telling me about his daughter, both pretending for the other that this was really not so bad, that it might even be a good thing that we talked.

And he said, “You’re my brother, and I love you.” And after twenty minutes we prepared to say goodbye.

“You have my number,” he said.

“I do now,” I said.

A pause. “Well,” he said.

Ah yes. Here it was at last.

“Well, why haven’t you called me before?” he said.

“Are we really going to get into this?” I said.

We were. And we did. I had left home without telling anyone where I was going. I was young and stupid and it was a mistake. That was more than a decade ago and I am not at all the person I was then. But Henry had not a philosophical bone in his body, and I was still the baby brother who existed only to give the others a good laugh when they scared the living daylights out of him or dunked him into the pool or gave him a wedgie in the middle of the family reunion. The baby brother who was spoiled and fat and lazy and, sin of sins, fairly well-read and intelligent. It was not a dozen years ago that I broke my mother’s heart — we’re all made up and happy now, by the by — it was yesterday. And today I had to give an account of myself. Today I had to repent and be saved. Today I was in trouble with big brother.

The rest of the conversation is of little import. I did not apologize nor did I defend myself. I did not tell my brother that I left home because of the treatment I had received there, didn’t say how he had made me feel throughout the twenty-two years I had lived with and near him. What is important is that I very much wanted to say those things, and that I was restless and agitated all that night because of it.

That, I think I can confidently say, is not what forgiveness feels like.

My brother could not forgive me. He holds onto his grudges for life, can get past them for short periods of time but they always resurface. He is an angry and often violent person with little self-control and even less self-knowledge. Understanding all of this and coming to terms with my own limitations and trying to exceed them through years of spiritual practice, I thought I had transformed my anger with him into compassion. Apparently, I had not done as thorough a job as I believed.

Each religion has its list of virtues to be cultivated by the devout. Most of the faithful aspire to these qualities, such as humility and patience, and try to put at least a few of them into practice as often as possible. Life in all ages has been difficult to say the least, and modern life in particular does not lend itself well to the growing of a healthy crop of virtues. We tend to muddle through as best we can. The spiritual aspirant, however, must do more than aspire to goodness. He or she must make the practice of virtue an integral part of daily life, and must strive for perfection in goodness always.

To put it mildly to point of flippancy, this is a tall order.

Sri Ramakrishna, the great 19th century Bengali saint, while living at the Dakshineswar Kali temple, was dearly loved by the temple manager, Mathur Babu. Mathur supplied all of Ramakrishna’s wants and needs and watched over him carefully.

A certain priest working at the temple became very jealous of Ramakrishna’s popularity with the various people living and working at the temple. He could not understand that Ramakrishna’s great spirituality endeared him to everyone, and came to believe that Ramakrishna had placed them all under an evil spell.

While Ramakrishna was absorbed in meditation one day, the priest came upon him and began demanding to know the secrets of Ramakrishna’s hold upon Mathur Babu and the rest. Of course, the saint was barely conscious of the outer world, being deep in contemplation, and did not respond to the priest’s demands. In frustration, the priest attacked Ramakrishna, kicking him fiercely in the back.

Some time later, the priest was dismissed from the temple for some reason. It was not until after he had gone that Sri Ramakrishna told Mathur about the attack. Mathur was incensed. “If I had known that,” he said, “I should probably have killed him.”

That, Ramakrishna said, was why he had never mentioned the event.

“The quality of forbearance” Ramakrishna has been quoted as saying, “is of the highest importance to every man.”

The Hindu philosophy of Advaita Vedanta teaches us that the world as we see it is only an apparent reality. The underlying reality, Brahman, or God devoid of any recognizable attributes, remains untouched by the events of this world, which pass over it like the projected images of a movie on a screen. Brahman is our true nature, ever perfect and complete, ever blissful and full of joy. Brahman is the state of no suffering, no wanting, perfect peace and equanimity. We can attain this state in this very life. We need only to wake up to our true nature.

Let’s do that. Right now. Wake up.

I know. It didn’t work. Obviously, it’s not as easy as all that.

One cannot attain the Knowledge of Brahman — (Self-realization, Nirvana, moksha, God-consciousness, etc.) — simply by being told about one’s true nature. The mind must be purified and prepared for Knowledge. The ego; the false self, concerned with one’s desires and the quest for pleasure in this world, must be obliterated. Only then can one wake up to one’s true nature. This is the purpose of spiritual practice, the purpose of the practice of virtue. In practicing forgiveness, putting aside our desire for retribution, we strike blow after blow at the ego, which is truly our only enemy.

By analyzing the process of forgiveness, we can understand its enormous potential for self-improvement and purification.

When a wrong is done to me, I feel hurt and angry. If a member of my family has wronged me, I may feel unloved and even abandoned. Even if the offense is small, like a relatively harmless lie, or something hurtful said in a moment of frustration, I will at least feel my pride has been injured — my feelings neglected. At this moment, as a spiritual aspirant, I should analyze my feelings. This is a time for quiet reflection and prayer. I should simply keep my mouth shut, exit the situation with grace, and go straight into my meditation room.

Now I search out the source of these feelings. What has made me feel this way, and how? I say I am hurt but what exactly hurts? Where is this pain? I say I am offended, but where is this offense? What part of me is affected by it? Through careful discrimination, I find that, in reality, there is no pain, there is no offense, there is nothing to forgive. There are merely thoughts which have no perceivable origin. If I observe them long enough, I can watch them enter the scene, float across it for a while, and disappear, like clouds floating round a mountain.

This kind of discrimination and observation helps me to understand the nature of the ego and its terrible hold over my happiness. This makes for an excellent opportunity to strike a  blow at the ego by letting go of the anger, the desire for retribution, the feelings of hurt. If possible, I should go to the person who has hurt me and express my love for them, make it obvious to them that I am determined to let this go, even if I don’t feel at the moment like I am able to forgive. Acting the part goes a long way toward actual forgiveness, actual letting go.

© 2012 Art MacAilein, Bamboo Thoughts

Shiva the creator

Hinduism teaches that  the past is infinite, as is the future. Though there was a creation of the universe and there will be an ultimate destruction, these mark one of many cycles. Many Hindus also believe that there are other parallel physical universes, though Hindu texts are largely agnostic on this. The duration of each cycle is measured in billions of years. The late Carl Sagan, an agnostic astronomer and astrophysicist commented:

But the main reason that we oriented this episode of COSMOS towards India is because of that wonderful aspect of Hindu cosmology which first of all gives a time-scale for the Earth and the universe — a time-scale which is consonant with that of modern scientific cosmology. We know that the Earth is about 4.6 billion years old, and the cosmos, or at least its present incarnation, is something like 10 or 20 billion years old. The Hindu tradition has a day and night of Brahma in this range, somewhere in the region of 8.4 billion years.

As far as I know, it is the only ancient religious tradition on the Earth which talks about the right time-scale. We want to get across the concept of the right time-scale, and to show that it is not unnatural. In the West, people have the sense that what is natural is for the universe to be a few thousand years old, and that billions is indwelling, and no one can understand it. The Hindu concept is very clear. Here is a great world culture which has always talked about billions of years.

This cycle of the physical universe itself repeats as part of a larger cycle, which in turn is in a further cycle. Different lineages may differ in the details of these cycles, but the gist is the same. Every 994 cycles of the universe a greater distruction occurs where the subtle plane  (also known as the astral plane) is also destroyed, and after 36,000 of these cycles all three worlds (physical, astral, and causal plane or God’s abode) and all of  space, and time are withdrawn into Shiva.

How does a human life fit in to this? At first thought it might seem that on this scale the soul of an individual is insignificant. This is not the case, however, as the Mundaka Upanishad reveals the significance of the soul:

This is the truth:
as from a blazing fire
thousands of flaming sparks come forth,
so from the imperishable, my friend,
various beings come forth and return there also.

The atman is a divine spark of God. As Yogaswami of Jafna said “The one act God cannot do is to separate Himself from us even for a moment”. I believe that followers of Kabbalistic Judaism have a similar view of God. God by his very nature must be intimately concerned with us.

Kripa, divine mercy, and why forgiveness is not divine

Lord Shiva bestows blessings on a devotee

Since God is within us all, he cannot help but show us mercy. When we are devoted to God we are rewarded by kripa (IAST: kṛpā), which can be translated as grace, or kindness. This amounts to removing karma that we have accrued, so that we do not have to face the consequences.

The interplay between karma and kripa can be looked at as a river.  The flow of the river is caused by our adharma (wrong action). This flow takes us further from the source, God. When we worship God, his kripa will bring us back to the source, but if we are still living adharmically we will be quickly washed away again. How many times have we felt the presence of God during worship or at the temple, but an hour later we feel distant again!

Karma, the world (maya) and anava (our ignorance) are also gifts from God; the environment where we can grow spiritually. This may seem strange at first, as many of our experiences don’t feel like gifts at the time, but ultimately they are. In Saiva Siddhanta we use the analogy of Pati-pashu-pasha, which is Tamil for master, cow, and tether, representing God, the soul, and the world. God guides the soul, using the world (karma, maya, and anava) to do so.

Is this divine grace and guidance a form of divine forgiveness for our transgressions? I have been contemplating this and I believe the answer is no, there is no divine forgiveness in Hinduism.

Forgiveness implies taking offence or being angry. God in Hinduism is all knowing and perfect. Since he never takes offence there is never a need to forgive, unless you look at it as everything being immediately forgiven. This may seem strange, as at times Hindus certainly ask for forgiveness, but I believe that it is really asking for help to move on from where we are and to learn. I see God as a parent, allowing a child to learn by their mistakes – having been told that if they don’t eat their tea they will go hungry. Their parents may let them go hungry for an evening, but they don’t do this through anger or hatred but as part of guiding the child and helping them grow.

Several fellow Hindus have pointed out that this ‘asking for forgiveness’ is part of forgiving ourselves. It is also a way to show remorse for wrong deeds, which is an essential part of hri, one of the essential rules of Hindu dharma. Knowing that God never holds a grudge, judges and is always with us is a great comfort to devotees. One convert to Hinduism writes:

This is the thing that keeps me affixed to this path. I had dealt with a lot of guilt and shame before finding sanatana dharma, and now I think I have a much healthier way to look at and deal with the “mistakes” I make in my life. It’s a wonderfully freeing feeling, to leave a tradition that tells me I’m inherently bad, and go to one that tells me that I’m inherently good, and that missteps are just the ways in which we learn.

In short, God is above forgiveness, and is constantly with us and supporting us. Not just by our side but at the centre of our souls, he bestows gifts on us all. Being loved by God means never having to say you’re sorry, but loving God means that you want to anyway.

Forgiveness is Human

Toy dealer's pet dog 'ate Batman'

The picture to the right is from a news story about a dog, Lola,  who chewed a rare vintage Batman toy which was worth £1,000.  Lola’s owner is a  collectable toy dealer, who was valuing the toy for a client.

The story starts with the words “She is out of the doghouse and already forgiven“.  Nobody would be surprised if the Lola’s owner was initially cross, but quickly forgave her. The anger would be a typical emotional response, but forgiveness would come easily, because everyone knows that the dog did not understand what she was doing. She was left on her own with something chewable and interesting, and followed her nature. Even if she knew that she was not supposed to chew the toys, she would have had no idea of the value of them, or that she had picked the most valuable toy in the collection.

It’s possible that if her owner is someone in control of his emotions and of a generous disposition that he never got angry, and that understanding the situation would see that there was nothing to forgive. However, forgiveness is not always that easy. People may have done something deliberate to take advantage of us, or hurt us. Some people even delight in causing pain to others. Because Hindus believe that we are all divine at heart, we believe that every transgression is ultimately caused by our ignorance of our true nature. The Tirumurai says:

Without virtue and penitence, devoid of love and learning, as a leather puppet I went around and fell. He showed me the love and the path and the way to reach the world wherefrom there is no return.

The ignorant will not see that harming others is in a very real way harming ourselves, for we are all divine. They don’t know that karma will be accrued, veiling them in more ignorance and bringing them further from God.  This means that a Hindu should ideally not be angry or hold a grudge, but should forgive if he or she does. Forgiving is necessary for us to move on spiritually. Because of this, forgiveness is embodied in the scriptures and constraints of Hinduism. One of the Hindu yamas (constraints for dharmic living) is daya or compassion. Satguru Sivaya Subramuniyaswami wrote:

Compassion tempers all decisions, gives clemency, absolution, forgiveness as a boon even for the most heinous misdeeds. This is a quality built on steadfastness. Daya comes from deep sadhana, prolonged santosha, contentment, scriptural study and listening to the wise. It is the outgrowth of the unfolded soul, the maturing of higher consciousness. A compassionate person transcends even forgiveness by caring for the suffering of the person he has forgiven.

Similarly, the Tirukural, the Saiva book of ethics  states:

Just as the Earth bears those who dig into her,
it is best to bear with those who despise us.

It is always good to endure injuries done to you,
but to forget them is even better.

It is impoverished poverty to be inhospitable to guests.
It is stalwart strength to be patient with fools.

Desiring that greatness should never cease,
let one’s conduct foster forbearance.

Forgiveness is a universal virtue and part of dharmic living for all Hindus. The above quote was from a Saiva text, but the Vishnava’s holy book, the Bhagavad Gita also extols the virtues of forgiveness:

The Blessed Lord said: Fearlessness, purification of one’s existence, cultivation of spiritual knowledge, charity, self-control, performance of sacrifice, study of the Vedas, austerity and simplicity; nonviolence, truthfulness, freedom from anger; renunciation, tranquility, aversion to faultfinding, compassion and freedom from covetousness; gentleness, modesty and steady determination; vigor, forgiveness, fortitude, cleanliness, freedom from envy and the passion for honor–these transcendental qualities, O son of Bharata, belong to godly men endowed with divine nature.

It is interesting that both passages extol forbearance as the first call. If we can avoid losing our temper and forgetting compassion, all the better. If we cannot then the remedy is forgiveness.

So, ideally we should remain full of compassion, and not lose our temper or hold a grudge, acting in accordance with the divine within. Since all but the most perfect of us do become angry or resentful, Hinduism teaches us that to uphold dharma we should forgive. Forgiveness is human, a way of keeping on the path to the divine.

Media Credits
Image “Shiva the creator” made by combining the Wikimedia image “lord Nataraja”  with the NASA image “Spiral Galaxy M81“. Both of these are available for non-commercial use with attribution. The combined image is available for non-commercial use under the Western Hindu blog’s license terms, as is the rest of this article.
Image “Lord Shiva bestows blessings on a devotee” is in the public domain, available from many sites but downloaded from shirdisaibaba100.blogspot.com.
Picture of “Lola eating batmobile” is a low-resolution screenshot from a BBC news video, which is considered fair use.

© 2012 Tāndava Nadesan, Western Hindu

Certainly the events of September 11th 2001 and the following decade of continuing warfare have given credence to this theory. Under the quasi legitimacy of Islamophobia racism and intolerance have been granted an alarmingly influential and acceptable platform in the discourse of the Western World. In Great Britain, for example, Paki (a derogative term for ‘Pakistani’ applied to all South Asians heedless of ethnicity, nationality or religion); the anti-immigration racial slur of the 1980s and 90s has, in the aftermath of the War on Terror, become synonymous with Muslim and Islamist (Islamic terrorist). A media-driven culture of fear in the United States and much of Europe, other than leading to the escalation of racially motivated violence and ad hoc housing estate pogroms, has added fuel to the fire already burning in the Muslim World. One need think only of the attacks on the ancient Christian communities all over the Middle East and the internecine violence between Muslims and Christians in Nigeria. It would appear indeed that we are in the midst of the Huntingtonian Clash, if not, on the fast track to that end.

The trauma of modernity has created within human society a powerful disconnect between the mythic imagination and intellectual progress, resulting in the historically recent phenomenology of religious fundamentalism. The Greek and Latin Patristic Fathers of the Christian Church, along with Saints Augustine of Hippo and Thomas Aquinas, in their use of the Hebrew Bible as types of the Gospel message, were simply not interested in the factuality of the narrated events. This same use of the texts as types is evinced in the Jewish Rabbinic literature of the Mishna and the Babylonian and Palestinian Talmudim; that, for example, one was not to follow the Canaanite practice of ritualistically ‘boiling a kid (a young goat) in its mothers milk’ was typified in the kosher dietary practice of not eating meat and dairy together. Despite our historical prejudices, these pre-modern scholars were not literalists, and neither were they fundamentalists. The real clash of our time is that of evolved human psychology and unnatural modern modes of living, which has forced a split between texts and traditions, and epistemology. It was this very idea which Eric Hyde touched upon when he wrote:

There exists a deep insecurity in the integrity of one’s religious foundations when one’s beliefs were initially formulated as a quick fix for their internal/emotional pain, or formulated in a reactionary manner “against” someone or something (Dialogue as Healing: With a Brief View of the Orthodox Sacrament of Confession, February 11^th 2012).

In this respect the mythos of religion may be understood as a shelter from the trauma of modernity; an ethereal safe-house wherein ancient texts are read as one would read a modern encyclopaedia. The adoption of such a misplaced meme demands the scientific understanding of chronologies, events and commands; leading to the ironic denial of real scientific endeavour. Within such an epistemic schema one must refuse the evidence supporting dinosaurs and the evolution of all living things, and yet be frustrated by the illegality of stoning witches and women who wear men’s cloths. It is an absurdity properly defined, and one which has engendered the most serious conflict within each of the particular religious traditions. While this article began by documenting the Clash between Islam and ‘the West,’ this disconnect is a crisis now facing all religions; the line between fundamentalism and modernity is not one which runs between the religions, but one which runs through them.

So we see in India the culture war between Hindus and fundamentalist Christian evangelists where ancient Greek mythological concepts of Hades are being used as bargaining chips for ‘the salvation of souls.’ Not only is this mythology being read by the Evangelicals as a real geography of the afterlife, but it is a grammar of myth which is fundamentally alien to the religious and mythological language of the Hindu Indians. Quite literally the Christian evangelists are speaking a foreign language, and yet to them this myth is real and must in the interiority of their imagination be accepted as we can accept the Newtonian laws of motion. This concretisation of myth thus robs the myth of its intended meaning; where, at best it loses something in translation, and, at worst, becomes a serious human rights violation. Therefore we must not see this threatened Clash of Civilizations as some visionary inevitability; where it may only become a self-fulfilling prophecy. No, the problem (if such actually exists) is not in the essential difference between one culture and another, but in the psychological sameness of all human beings struggling to overcome the same trauma.

In actual fact, the situation in which we find ourselves today is nothing more than a repetition of countless times in the past where different cultures have collided. There is a wonderful set of accounts from the first interactions between Europeans and native North Americans in the early thirteenth century Grænlendinga Saga and the Eiríks Saga Rauða. When the Norwegian settlers of Iceland and Greenland happed upon the western lands of Helluland, Markland and Vinland (Canada from Labrador to Nova Scotia) they encountered ‘men.’ The oceans of difference in terms of culture, language and traditions sparked the animosities which led ultimately to the failure of the Viking settlements of North America, but there were moments of armistice and great kindness. The Scandinavians who had gone ‘a viking’ discovered that cold, hunger and hardship were universal in the human lexicon, and at times of great leanness and misery the ‘men’ whose language they did not know threw food and provisions over their palisades.

Not all communication is verbal, and nor should it be. We are on the brink of a catastrophe of truly apocalyptic proportions, and this arrival at the precipice of calamity has been more the fault of the failure of imagination and communication than it has been the fictional incompatibility of difference. As the modern secular world attempts to blast its way through to a new Pax Romana by brute force and the silencing of the religious voice, it is discovering at every turn that the human mind resists this negligence of the mythic imagination expressed in the religions of the world it seeks to conquer. Even at the Battle of Gaugamela the young Alexander called upon the furies (goddesses of the underworld) Shock and Awe to speak the language of the Persian he wished to destroy. The failure of the United States’ ideological campaign of shock and awe was that it had no basis for meaning in the Islamic World it wished to subdue. Likewise, we too must reach out to our friends and our enemies in words and actions which carry a meaning which all may understand. There are certain messages which carry significance across cultural and linguistic barriers, and when these are sought and used the result is always that of greater understanding – and understanding always brings peace.

© 2012 homophilosophicus

It is the diversity of participants which gives Social Justice one of its most unique positive attributes, because communities of participation are so diverse they reflect the multifarious concerns of our ever diversifying social units, be it a village or a nation.

The role of dialogue then is obvious for even before one embarks on any kind of campaign or project within society there must be a certain amount of dialogue within the movement itself. One telling example would be the Catholic Worker tradition, where of course being a Catholic is not exactly a requirement, having benefitted from Buddhist, Native American and Protestant (to name but a small sample) participation in the past. A clear understanding of motivations by participants is important but that does not mean all participants must hold the same motivations. Some unifying principles are essential, the desire to bring about a more equitable society, equal rights and protection of dignity for all, for instance, yet individuals may have different understandings of what these lofty ideals mean on a practical level. Obviously then it is a tricky road before one even steps outside the door.

Once outside the door things get really, really complicated and again a constant dialogue is essential. Social Justice campaigners, peace activists and solidarity groups, by their very nature engage with many branches of wider society on a daily basis. Embarking on any kind of Social Justice effort, community education or social solidarity, or providing support and community to vulnerable individuals, more often that not brings one in contact with (sometimes even ‘up against’) local gangsters, social charlatans, the police force, the community’s religious leadership, and many more. Countless individuals within social justice movements, particular those participating in anti-war protest regularly face sanctions, arrest, harrasment,  intimidation and imprisonment at the hands of various branches of the official instruments of state. Recently we had the example of Maya Evans who was given a custodial sentence in Hastings for her participation in a protest against the war in Afghanistan.

The mechanics of the political nation cannot be ignored in Social Justice, we cannot remove ourselves from dialogue with the instruments of state, be they law courts, funding bodies, or charities. Such a move would result in introspection and isolation rather than an engagement. To satisfy the need for a more just and equal, peaceful society Social Justice must remain Social and hence dialogue on all levels is absolutely paramount.

© 2012 Claire E. Carroll, Not By My Silence

Here the Jew may protest and be correct that this expounding of the sacrifice of Isaac is not his or her story; this man Jesus is not their messiah, and so find temporary shelter from the ruthless despot of heaven. Indeed the Patriarch was tested by God, and verily the angel of Yahweh stayed his hand from the slaughter (Genesis 22: 11). There is some wisdom in Woody Allen’s satire wherein Sarah asks of Abraham, “How doth thou know it was the Lord and not, say, thy friend who loveth practical jokes?” Surely, we might wonder, God would not demand such a heinous thing as human sacrifice? Abraham must therefore have ‘gone along with this’ in the sure and certain hope that this was but some cosmic prank, no? No! Israel’s God is a God of human sacrifice:

And Jephthah made a vow to the Lord, and said, ‘If you will give the Ammonites into my hand, then whoever comes out of the doors of my house to meet me, when I return victorious from the Ammonites, shall be the Lord’s, to be offered up by me as a burnt-offering (Judges 11: 30 NRSV).’

Indeed Jephthah did keep his vow to the Lord and slaughter his young daughter, no angel stayed his hand and Yahweh was satisfied. Recently I entered into a discussion with an Evangelical preacher and lecturer who when pressed on the question, ‘Would you murder your children to satisfy the request of your righteous, good and just God?’ answered, ‘I would hope that my faith in God would have been developed over the years as Abraham’s had so, that like him, I would be able to trust if God made such a demand (Peter Mead, February 27^th 2012).” So terribly unified was his belief in the God of the text, tradition and faith that he was willing to concede that had God to call for the blood of his little children he would hope for the trust to do as Abraham and possibly Jephthah did. To mitigate for this chilling concession I do not believe for a moment he would execute such a diabolical crime; his faith response driven rather by an inability to show intellectual honesty in the face of such absurdity.

In theology after the Shoah we are mindful of thinking of God with the memory of the systematic murder of men, women and children in the pursuit of racial and national ideology. The standard response, no matter how contradictory, to this reality is that God is with the victim, and that somehow the God of the Jew and the Christian is some super human rights advocate in the sky. The uncritical acceptance of this, however, is a terrible irony. Was it not Israel’s God who commanded the wholesale slaughter of every man, woman and child in all the towns of the Canaanites? Are we to assume that the innocent infants of Canaan were not human, were not as much wrought in the image and likeness of God as the Israelites? Were these babes, their mothers and fathers vermin? If so, I reject this God. With every fibre of my being I reject this mindless tyrant. I am better than this god. This is the most fundamental contradiction of our faith.

This remains and forever shall remain a contradiction only insofar as we fail to differentiate between the gods. There is not a moment, as at Sinai, when the heavens parted and from above descended a book to people. Men wrote the volumes, men gathered and codified the volumes and from one generation to the next men preserved for us the Bible. As in flesh God make humanity in his own likeness, so in writing men made God in his. The God we encounter in the ancient texts is a fully human construct; a literary creation. We can be sure that if indeed the creator of the universe wrote the Bible, it would be a much better read. Few would argue that Homer is a god (a god among men maybe), and yet the Iliad and the Odyssey trump the Bible on every reading. The extremists, fundamentalists, literalists and many Evangelical Christians are shocked by such brutal honesty and so protest, as is their want, that ‘their Bible is more than mere literature.’ I agree. It is more than mere literature; the Bible is Literature! Agatha Christie, P. G. Wodehouse and Dan Brown, as wonderful as they are, are mere literature. Can we say that same of Dante, Dostoevsky or Joyce? Thomas Carlyle says it best; “All that mankind has done, thought or been: it is lying as in magic preservation in the pages of books.”

The God of our Bibles (Hebrew Bible, Samaritan Torah and the many distinct Christian canons) is a God as we have preferred to see a God. Sometimes this God is not such a nice character. This is to be expected from a projection of the most intense emotions and ideas of mere men. In these texts we discover the record of the revelation of God; it is not the Revelation of God. On this score the biblical authors were clear. To Israel of old and the Jewish people of today HaShem is his own Revelation, and to the Christian God is revealed perfectly in the Word made flesh. It is from this point that we may begin to disentangle ourselves from the icon of God, often a troubling image, as he is presented in ancient books and move on to a fuller relationship with the transcendent God who is beyond all understanding.

About this time last year, I found myself having to deal with a very difficult health issue when we discovered that my eldest daughter Charlotte was suffering from breast cancer. In such a situation, it would be easy to fall to pieces, embark on a downward spiral of depression and let the problem get the better of us. I was determined to do the exact opposite, to remain up-beat, stay calm, and be a listening post for Charlotte and the rest of the family. I believe I did a pretty good job. I was always around when she needed to talk and always presented a brave face to the world, even when I wasn’t actually being very brave. My Mum, my younger daughter Hannah and my ex-wife; Charlotte’s mum, all wanted to talk about the problem and what the future might bring.

A good trick I learned from my Buddhist practice, was to seek to see things from other people’s point of view. It’s very easy to discuss things you are feeling yourself, but so much more effective if you can see the other’s side of things. I tried, at all times, to offer positive suggestions, to bring a ray of sunshine to an otherwise dark place. In truth, my attitude was hugely supported by Charlotte’s own courage and fortitude, but I would like to think that I made a small contribution to her bravery.

I am happy to say, that following surgery and chemo and radio therapy, Charlotte is now well on the road to recovery so I can turn my WCC toward the more mundane problems of life, with the aim of securing similar positive outcomes. So dialogue can be a very powerful and effective method of affecting situations. Religious differences are obviously one area that would benefit hugely from substantially more discussion. When we talk about our beliefs, we often find that we have far more in common than we may initially have thought. Buddhism bases everything on creating the state of happiness for all sentient beings, or at least removing suffering wherever possible.

Life is a rich tapestry of opinions, we all have our own beliefs and ideas and the resolution of conflicting theories is always best solved by discussion. Nichiren Buddhism is a unique religion, if indeed a religion it be, as it is often described as a philosophy, in that it requires its followers to show compassion towards other religions in all respects. It does not ask followers to promote a particular deity, as it has none, nor does it promote itself as the one and only true religion. Unsurprisingly, Buddhism has many of its ideals about conduct, compassion and the treatment of others in common with many of the other major world religions. It strives to promote a general sense of peace and understanding as well as offering ways for individuals to find true happiness in their lives. Whilst it would never shy away from confronting abuse, oppression or mistreatment in all their forms, it is often perceived by people, wrongly in my eyes, to try to resolve problems by hiding or backing away from them. In fact, this could not be further from the truth. Personal responsibility for our thoughts, words and deeds is a central tenet of the religion and as such, we cannot allow situations to pass us by without at least attempting to make an effort to improve the situation. I cannot imagine a problem that is better resolved by being ignored, so the use of dialogue to discuss and better understand the underlying reasons becomes a major daily process.

The Buddhist way is not one of confrontation, it is one of seeking to find common ground, to foster understanding and mutual respect. After all, none of us have irrefutable proof that our beliefs are the one and only truth. We believe that they are, hence the word belief, but the tiniest hint of doubt should at least allow us to grant others the right to different beliefs. So next time you find yourself thinking less than compassionate thoughts about another, simply on the grounds of his or her beliefs, take a step back and try to understand the rationale behind your thoughts, you may be surprised at how quickly the logic evaporates.

Ignorance of another’s viewpoint can often be the cause of dislike, mistrust and even hatred in the world. If we were all to talk first, before taking more drastic actions, the world would be a far more peaceful place. Whilst it would be naive to suggest that all religious conflict is simply due to the differences in dogma, those differences, once explored through dialogue, seem to be greatly reduced or even melt away.

To my knowledge, there has never been a Buddhist religious war. Sadly the same cannot be said of many other religions and maybe that is because understanding and compassion for others is so ingrained in Buddhist philosophy. Much of the recent terrorist activity is performed in the name of religion, and understandable although the ideas behind the violence may be, simple dialogue would surely result in less anguish and pain, as well as a longer lasting resolution to the underlying problems.

So maybe the old Bob Hoskins’ BT advert didn’t go quite far enough in promoting the message. It’s not just good to talk, it is absolutely imperative.

© 2012 Anupadin, The Search for Enlightenment

Over the ensuing couple of weeks, I discovered four very important things, which have greatly contributed to shaping my life from that time to the present day.

1. I discovered that the internet had massive potential for sharing the gospel.

2. I discovered also that I wasn’t the first to discover this.

3. I found that to my great dismay and chagrin, every man and his pet goldfish had their own version of what the gospel means, despite their constant claim to ‘knowing Jesus,’ ‘having the Bible as their foundation for all doctrine and teaching’ and ‘having God’s own Holy Spirit’ abiding in them to teach them personally. Some had even gone so far as to spend  many years in universities, colleges, Bible schools and such like, and subsequently being able to adorn themselves with numerous letters after their names to prove it, and even they disagreed with each other. Not only did they differ from one another on the small points which have no bearing on our ultimate destiny, but they disagreed often on the most basic beliefs, which indeed do affect our ultimate destiny, and more than this, nearly every one of them (including the goldfish) disagreed with me, which meant they were all wrong!

So, having decided to impart to everyone who would listen all the pearls of accumulated wisdom and insight that I had collected over my thirty-five odd years of being clearly one of the most faithful, truth centered, consecrated disciples of Jesus on the planet,  I proceeded to register my name on a number of chat sights and in very short order discovered the fourth very important thing that has shaped my life recently. This fourth discovery has several facets.

4. a. I was a lousy, slow typist. By the time I had typed my three or four paragraphs of diamond studded insight  into the box and pressed ‘enter,’  seventeen new people  had entered the chat room, eight of the original ten had left, the two remaining were not interested in what I had to say anyway, and no-one else understood a thing I wrote. And when I read back my posts, I could barely understand it either, the misspelling and ‘typos’ being so abundant.

b. Absolutely nothing of any depth was actually being discussed; the numbers coming and going forbidding any meaningful conversation beyond ‘Hi… How are you… Haven’t seen you in here for a while… I’m sick and home from work… my baby’s just spewed all over my laptop… etc. etc.

c. There really is no answer to why chat-rooms are so addictive.

d. And finally, I discovered that because of a seemingly inbuilt suspicion and even open antagonism against Seventh Day Adventists within the Christian community, most roundly rejected me without any hearing, arrest warrant, reading of rights, or trial, and damned me as a heretic without right of appeal.

I had to look elsewhere and change my modus operandi if I was going to have any success in changing the world. Thus I registered in an on-line forum, where one could write as much as he liked, within reason, and not need a reply for a day or so. Conversations were lengthened out over weeks if not months, and everyone had an equal opportunity to share and learn from one another. The perfect environment for such as me, where ‘dialogue’ and open, frank discussion was the order of the day. Well, that was the theory anyway.

The first site I registered on was run by staunch Calvinists; the moment the moderators twigged to my SDA leanings, I was banned. Since then I have found some a little more tolerant — at least they allow me to remain on the books — but I am not allowed to promote SDA teachings; rather, I am permitted to answer queries regarding SDA teachings but only in specific forums which are generally not read by most members.

Another site has special forums for just about any denomination you can think of so the end result is those who go there just talk among themselves in their own areas.

Just three months ago, however, I came across a site that was completely non-denominational and allowed for anyone to join in any discussion freely so long as no-one promoted their own denomination. I find that refreshing, and am enjoying sharing there, but I did use a little cunning. I didn’t divulge my denominational leanings at any time, and it was only last week that a member familiar with our teachings asked if I was a Seventh Day Adventist. Because I had been sharing nothing apart from my own personal perspective on many issues, doctrines, prophecy etc., which all are SDA, I asked this member why it took so long to ‘out’ me.

Then there is the blog. I had heard of these of course, but being the archetypical technophobe I was reluctant to investigate further for a long time. Ironically, it was a member from one of the sites, a member who had been one of my bitterest opponents, who suggested I start a blog. Clearly, an ulterior motive was at work here, thinking that a distraction such as a blog would give him some much sought after relief from my continual heretical abominations. And so an investigation ensued and the result was twofold.

a. I found the blog to be a very convenient storage house for my studies on all things Biblical and

b. as I looked around at other blogs I found a greater appreciation for others’ thoughts and perspectives.

So over the years I have learned more I think about myself than I would possibly care to admit. I have also learned that it isn’t going to be me, nor for that matter anyone else either, who is going to change the world.  That little task comes under God’s job description, a task for which He is far more qualified than I, with vastly more experience, and the only one with the power to do it. That He uses human agencies to accomplish this from time to time, will always be a puzzle to me, and glory to Him.

Finally, I think the greatest thing I have gained over the last five or six years, the one thing I cherish the most, is the freedom of speech, the freedom to worship according to ones own conscience, and to discuss and share our thoughts and beliefs with one another without bias, bigotry, condemnation, or ridicule. This does not exist everywhere I have found, but where it can be found, must be embraced, protected, and nourished as one of the greatest gifts God has bestowed upon us.

© 2012 Brendan James, Repairing the Breech

As well as having a lively tradition of dialogue within Hinduism, this has always extended to other dharmic religions. This is hardly surprising, as the dividing line between Hindu traditions and non-Hindu traditions is not clear cut. You might say that Sikhs are not Hindus because they reject the vedas, have their own saints, and don’t use murtis (devotional images). However the same is true of many sects that are generally accepted to be non-orthodox branches of Hinduism, such as Veera Saiva and Arya Samaj. Relations between Hindus and members of other dharmic religions are often very close, in many cases Hindus and Buddhists share temples (such as the the Bagh Bhairav Temple in Kirtipur) and festivals. Similarly festivals at my local Mandir are frequently attended by Sikhs, and Hindus often attend festivals in the local Gurdwara. Historically we can see the interplay between dharmic religions. The Hindu school of Advaita Vedanta and Buddhism certainly had an influence on each other, and Jainism played a part in emphasising Hinduism’s vegetarian tradition.

With this ongoing history of cooperation and respect between dharmic religions it is not surprising that Hindus are often at the forefront of Inter-religious dialogue and events. The 2009 “World Religions Dialogue and Symphony” was initiated by the Hindu preacher Morari Bapu, and many local, national, and international events are well attended by Hindus. Swami Vivekananda’s address at the World Congress of Religions in 1893 is often considered one of the best pro-interfaith speeches of all time.

However many Hindus are ambivalent about dialogue with non-dharmic religions. One reason for this is that Hindus attending these events are often seen by others as representing Hinduism as a whole. Many non-Hindus don’t realise how much diversity there is within Hinduism. For a follower of one of the Abrahamic religions I compare speaking for Hinduism to speaking for all Abrahamic religions:  Catholics, Protestants, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, Unitarians, Shia Islam, Suni Islam, Ahmadiyya, Bahai, Mandeans, Druze, and all sects of Judaism. Imagine also that a lot of the other attendees had been taught that Branch Davidian and Anton LaVey’s Church of Satan were mainstream parts of your religion. This is the dilemma faced by a Hindu at an interfaith event. When someone does speak for Hinduism, other Hindus are not slow to point out when they say something that does not represent all Hindus. An example of this is the “Declaration of the Second Hindu-Jewish Leadership Summit”. Among other things this says:

It is recognized that one supreme being in its formless and manifest aspects has been worshipped by Hindus over the millennia. The Hindu relates to only the one supreme being when he/she prays to a particular manifestation. This does not mean that Hindus worship ‘gods’ and ‘idols’.

Now without going into a lengthy description of Hindu theology, most Hindus see some images of God as being aspects of the one creator God (Ishvara), whereas others are illustrious beings (Devas), and are as separate and individual as you or I. Different schools have different concepts of exactly how separate you, I, and the Devas are, ranging from absolutely separate at one extreme to any separateness from God being illusionary at another. I think it is reasonable to say that the view of Hinduism put forward here by Swami Dayananda Saraswati is overstepping the mark by implying that the statement covers all Hindu beliefs. Some Hindus have expressed this in very strong terms. Sandhya Jain wrote:

This is outrageous. A Hindu guru who upholds the legitimacy for Hindus of the literature of another religion, and tries to make Hindu Dharma pass standards set by that intolerant sect, is betraying the Devas, the Dharma, the bhaktas, the Desh – nothing more need be said in this matter. In one stroke, he has also legitimised the missionary and jihadi hatred of and assault upon Hindu dharma in Hindu bhumi.

Hindus who do take part in inter-religious dialogue should be very clear that they are not speaking for the whole of Hinduism. Except in very general terms, nobody can. This is why I make it clear that what I write reflects my own thoughts only.

Another reason that some Hindus are reluctant to get involved in inter-religious dialogue is that it is often seen as an attempt to evangelise or convert, or at least to find information useful when attempting to convert people. This is a genuine concern, as some groups openly suggest that inter-religious dialogue should indeed be used to hone conversion tactics. Jason Barker writes on the Evangelical Christian website “Watchman Fellowship”:

Interreligious dialogue is related to evangelism in two ways: “Christians must practice dialogue with non-Christians (1) to understand the situation of non-Christians and how the gospel answers their needs; (2) answer questions raised by people to involve them in a personal encounter with the claims of God.” This relation of dialogue and evangelism can be seen in the Bible.

… dialogue enhances the efficacy of evangelism. The clarified understanding of other religions will be published in books and articles about the religions, many of which will be read by pastors and evangelists, as well as transmitted to average churchgoers. These people will then be able to present the gospel in a way that most effectively addresses the needs and thinking of people in other religions.

Clearly these groups are not seeing dialogue as a means of mutual understanding but as a means to convert others to their own faith. Other Christian groups see the purpose of dialogue as an opportunity to state their own faith, while not necessarily trying to convert others. J.E. Lesslie Newbigin writes:

On the basis which has been laid down one can speak briefly of the purpose with which the Christian enters into dialogue with people of other faiths. This purpose ‘can only be’ obedient witness to Jesus Christ. ‘Any other purpose, any goal which subordinates the honour of Jesus Christ to some purpose derived from another source, is impossible for the Christian.’ To accept such another purpose would involve a denial of the total lordship of Jesus Christ. A Christian cannot try to evade the accusation that, for him, dialogue is part of his obedient witness to Jesus Christ.

But this does not mean that the purpose of dialogue is to persuade the non-Christian partner to accept the Christianity of the Christian partner. Its purpose is not that Christianity should acquire one more recruit. [emphasis mine]

Though less destructive than the previous reason for entering dialogue, being present only to state your own faith and not understand that of others makes it a futile practice. So, what is necessary for interfaith dialogue to work? I think that Leonard Swidler’s Ten Rules for Interfaith Dialogue set a good basis. I cannot quote them in full for copyright reasons, but the essence is that dialogue should be an open, honest discussion between equals, with all sides being willing to learn, and to attempt to “walk in the other’s shoes” and understand what it means to follow the other’s religion.

Dialogue under these rules has many positives. Probably the biggest benefit is the elimination of misunderstanding, so many people have preconceived ideas about what other religions believe. This is particularly true of Hinduism in the West, so many authors write in good faith about the minority Smarta/advaita vedanta philosophy as though it were Hinduism. We should not forget that Hindus too have misconceptions about other religions.

Inter-religious dialogue also helps us see our own religions from another perspective, which may help us understand and appreciate parts of our own religion, and to find new ways to express them. There are many examples of Hindus seeing their own religion reflected in others, such as the “Sermon on the Mount According to Vedanta” by Swami Prabhavananda.

In summary I would say that Hindus should continue their tradition of close alliance with dharmic religions, and engage in genuine dialogue with non-dharmic religions. While it is certainly true that some people will study the dialogue and try to use this to convert Hindus, the benefits in mutual understanding and a new view of Hinduism outweigh this.

We should still avoid “false dialogue”, where one side has no intention of listening, and has come merely to express their own view. This at best wastes time, and at worst aids their conversion attempts without benefit.

Finally, we should clearly indicate when what we are describing is something believed by all Hindus (a very rare occurrence), by most Hindus, by our particular sect, or when it is our own thoughts. This is important for followers of most religions, but particularly to Hindus because of the diversity of beliefs.

© 2012 Tāndava Nadesan, Western Hindu

To further the topic of dialogue, I will start with Luther.  He had a lot say about the Catholic Church of his time, so much so that he was excommunicated and deemed a heretic.  There was definitely some dialogue going on, or a lack of dialogue depending on who was keeping score at the time.  Since the year 1517 when Luther paid a visit to the Castle Church in Wittenberg, things have gotten considerably better for Lutherans, and Catholics, thank you very much.

From the ecumenical perspective, Lutherans and Catholics do great work for people, even while in the same room together!  I would say the same is true of all faiths for that matter.  On a more personal note, our neighbors are Catholic, and we do things together all the time.  A great example; one night at a youth event hosted by my home church, King of Glory Lutheran (ELCA), our neighbour’s children attended along with our own children.  Their son, aged 10, informed one of the pastors that he is Roman Catholic, then asked if it was really okay that he participated in the Lutheran art project that was planned.  He lovingly got the okay; we can all rest easy that there is no sin, or chance of excommunication during ELCA coloring projects.

I jokingly, and lovingly, refer to the Lutheran faith as ‘Catholic-light.’  This serves a few purposes.  Firstly, I’m a light-hearted individual; when it is appropriate, my statement puts people at ease, and thus far the worst has been a polite chuckle, and at best a healthy belly laugh.  Secondly, it gives people pause to think about what they just heard; diverting attention from something, I likely just misspoke about.  What exactly do I mean when I brake out that phrase?  Well, what I actually mean is up for interpretation by those that know more than I do.  I am certain there are many layers involved in that statement if the motivated individual looks hard enough; it is my hope that not one person is ever offended by it.  This of course insures that someone will be offended.  Sorry about that.  I actually refer to the Nicene Creed, as a whole it does a nice job of explaining it for me, but the first sentence of the last paragraph sums it best, “And I believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.”  What that says to me is that I get it (the Catholic Church), but I am not a part of it (nothing personal, really).

As it turns out, the way Lutheran’s express their faith is the same way I like to express my faith, what a surprise!  I would posit that the same could be said of (insert person) who belongs to (insert faith); birds of a feather flock together.  This brings up an important point from my own perspective, and I cannot say enough how strongly I feel about this.  As a Christian, I follow Christ.  Being a Lutheran is how I follow Christ. There is a distinction between what I believe, versus how I display that belief.  It warrants far more explanation than my ‘Catholic-light’ wisecrack.

I was not born into the Lutheran church.  I was baptized Lutheran as a baby, so my parents tell me, but I went to church a total of three times that I remember before adulthood, none of which were at Lutheran congregations (and only one of them was a positive life-affirming experience).  Not going to church was the norm.  My walk has been very non-Lutheran like because I was never searching for my Lutheran faith, I was searching for a relationship with God, asking the same questions most, if not all the worlds people have asked at one time or another.  My wife, thank God, grew up going to a Lutheran church each weekend of her entire life.  She showed me the ropes, and helped me understand why we were doing certain things at certain times; she showed me how to be a Lutheran, during service at least (Thanks honey!).  My point is that my walk is my own, my relationship with Christ is ours, meaning between He and I.  My expression of that relationship is based on Lutheran church principles.  I decided on my own, more or less, that the Lutheran faith matched what I believe.  I could be happy in another denomination I suppose, but I am happy where I am.  I do not knock another faith by the expression of my own.  That I believe sets the table for true dialogue.

I also believe in something else that is worth mentioning; it is not so much what you say, but the way you say it that counts.  When it comes to dialogue with other faiths, I am fascinated.  I have, after all, studied Anthropology and Sociology in college.  I have never had conversations with anyone outside western culture about their faith or mine — face to face anyway.  Our church is engaged in a series that covers the five major world religions in no particular order: Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and Buddhism.  I personally think we need to add futball to the conversation because as I see it, if Interpol has a whole division devoted to Futball Hooliganism, it is probably worth listing as one of the SIX world’s greatest religions.  I digress.  When a person pays a degree of respect to another during a dialogue, very meaningful exchanges are the result, every time.

We are just about ready to finish a very cursory, high altitude look at Islam.  After each session lets out, I say to my wife, “Wow.  I did not know that.”  In many regards, I see Islam as a beautiful religion!  Knowing for the sake of knowing is a great thing, and I look forward to knowing more through this process!

Now I come to the part of my post where I put myself out there and challenge my fellow bloggers.  This is an interfaith group.  We are dealing with topics that are very personal, and I hope near, and dear to each of us.  In order to have real dialogue we need to feel comfortable enough with ourselves, and respectful enough with each other to ask and answer questions based on the merits of the question, not the person asking, or any perceived ulterior motives for that matter.  I would hope it is understood, but I believe that many great opportunities are lost when some moving line is crossed.  I read about them most frequently when a Christian Apologist recounts a debate with an atheist, or the other way around.  It would seem to me that the problem starts when people let their emotions get the better of them, and start the “I GOT YOU!” game.  I would prefer not go that route.  I spent my youth in locker rooms, and have seen my share of verbal beat-downs.  I think I am done with those.  At any rate, I will summarize my post like this: Dialogue good.  No dialogue, no good.  Until next time, peace!

© 2012 Kurt Alderman, The Jimmy Monologues

But, as luck would have it, this movement introduced me to a private Christian university with a highly diverse faculty, and where dialogue was elevated to the status of virtue. My professors were Baptist, Catholic, Calvinist, Lutheran and Pentecostal, among others. The discussions were spirited! This was an environment where no one ever stood up in the middle of a discussion and stomped out of the room, damaged ego in hand, for not receiving lavished applause for their private religious perspectives. It was during this period I discovered my home in the Eastern Orthodox Church, in part because of the liberty to have honest dialogue, and in part from the vigorous encouragement to dig (as deep as one dared) into the history of the Church—a life changing prospect for someone like me who had never been exposed to the heart and soul of historic Christianity.

Having emerged from graduate school a freshly pressed Orthodox Christian, I attempted to return to the lifelong discussions I once held with various old church friends. I was shaken to find how many of them were closed off to the kind of open dialogues I had become accustomed to. Granted there is a fairly large gap between the Orthodox Church and the movement I was once involved with, in terms of doctrine and practice, but there seemed to be in some of them a deep, concentrated effort to remain cut off from external influences, i.e. any influence that did not originate in their tightly guarded pool of ideas (ideas germane to their pre-selected desires for what they “wanted” Christianity to be). The reactions to these dialogues were varied ranging from simple refusal to involve themselves, to uncontrolled frustration and anger. Though shaken, I was fascinated? what is it that makes some people detest and fear such encounters while others not only enjoy but actively seek them?

As someone who loves both theology and human psychology this phenomenon goes well beyond interesting—it’s nearly hypnotic. I had spent untold hours absorbed with trying to understand why some people guard their pet beliefs from being challenged with such fever so as to destroy not only their relationships but often their very selves in the process. Understanding the passion for truth is not mysterious, rather, it is the desire to “save face” emotionally and intellectually at such a high cost that had me baffled.

But there is a simple answer: there exists a deep insecurity in the integrity of one’s religious foundations when one’s beliefs were initially formulated as a quick fix for their internal/emotional pain, or formulated in a reactionary manner “against” someone or something. Related to the phenomenon of “post-decision bias,” these beliefs become self-reinforcing when their foundations are later significantly challenged. One often finds that this defense mechanism is experienced inwardly by some as an episode of survival—literal physical survival; as if dialoguing certain issues brings the person face-to-face again with the same source of pain which had never been properly dealt with.

Hence, the tendency for some to become easily angered or withdrawn in religious discussions seems to me a sign of inner turmoil, an indicator of something much deeper, perhaps even a form of existential despair trying to escape its torment. On this point I believe that the Orthodox Christian view of human nature has a keen insight, and it is contained in our sacrament of confession.

From an Orthodox perspective dialogue is healing; granted that the dialogue is honest and real and not the usual game of ‘intellectual dodgeball.’ One of the hallmarks of Orthodox spirituality is its emphasis on the healing of the whole person, soul and body. We believe that salvation is a matter of real healing from our primordial fall, healing from our “sickness” of alienation from Life itself—the Holy Trinity—and not merely an assurance of escaping a fiery hell in the next life. In short, salvation is a journey that starts in the here and now and requires the involvement of the whole person in order to be truly realized. Thus, our whole being is called to enter into the living reality of theosis; to become partakers of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). Scripture says that “if we confess our sins, He (God) is faithful to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).” There is something in our nature that necessitates ‘confession’ of our spiritual illness for true inward healing to come.

For the Orthodox, the confession—the dialogue between God and man—is made by the believer, in tandem with his or her priest, before God. But the confession is not made in a private booth where there is no visual or physical contact between believer and priest, as it is often practiced in western traditions, but rather made in the sanctuary of the church before the icon of Christ. It is during this time that the believer confronts his or her own struggles with sin, with the priest standing in as a witness and spiritual guide (hence the affectionate title of ‘Father’ given to priests) to aid the believer with prayer, advise and sacred anointing. This contact allows the believer to invite the true healing and empowerment of God into their life. It is also a chance for the priest to help the believer to correct any false religious concepts which may be contributing to their sickness.

The sacrament of confession is only one avenue of grace provided to the Orthodox Christian, but it is a highly significant example of the healing qualities of healthy and honest human dialogue in general. Christ is the Great Physician and His sacrifice is a cleansing sacrifice, healing both body (1 John 1:7) and soul (Hebrews 9:11-15). The gift of the Holy Spirit is given for this purpose of true healing and the healing is accomplished through the work of Christ’s Church. Even a brief tour through Scripture will reveal that the Holy Spirit uses people to heal people. From the Orthodox perspective, this is why it is not possible for an individual to find true healing while attempting to remain an island. True healing necessitates communion with God, and communion with God necessitates communion with Christ’s Body—the Church.

Much more could be said on this issue of dialogue within the Orthodox Christian milieu of healing. Many fine works have been written on the subject and it is my hope that this brief introduction inspires further inquiry. Thanks for reading!

© 2012 Eric Hyde, Eric Hyde’s Blog

All to say – I’ve been lazy lately. No blogging (insert here ironic statement about lack of readers anyway).

But this week, was inspired just to write a couple thoughts, mostly in response to last Sunday’s sermon.

The title of the sermon was, “Four Ways to Have a Conversation.” A more didactic approach, it was an attempt to share what I learned in one of the courses I took this past spring for my DMin degree – a course called “Engaging the Narratives of Other Religions.”

I dealt with the question: in light of the fact that Christianity makes a very exclusive claim to truth (“I am the way, the truth, the life; no one comes to the Father but through me”), what do we make of the truth claims of other religious traditions? Just because we in the West have inherited this tradition – Christianity – what gives us the moxie to say that this Way (the way of Jesus) is the only way to “salvation”?

Here is the result of that effort.

Though I often feel so uncomfortable preaching a sermon like this – Jeff the wannabe seminary professor, trafficking in highfalutin abstract ideas – I received feedback that indicated it was very helpful to people. I also appreciated the approach that the learning itself provided. Presenting four “models” for interfaith dialogue, which were partly the subject of the course, provided some tools for people to think for themselves about how they approach that question I posed above. No preacher-guy telling folk what to believe. (Though several people readily guessed which model most closely fits my own thinking).

In any case – wanted to post it here, to see if there might be any wishing to comment further.

Blessings!

Jeff V.

PS – here’s another subject I may cover this week, if the inspiration strikes: “flash mobs”. Anybody out there familiar with this phenomenon? How cool would it be if we were to get together a PCOL “flash mob”? Gospel as performance art? Secret rendezvous in Palmer Square? Or would that just be plain scary?