Star Wars fans have been mixed in their reception of “The Last Jedi.” My daughter Meredith and I saw it together. We both loved it, each for our own reasons.
Among other things, the role of holy texts in the Jedi religion caught my attention. Doing my best to avoid spoilers, I’ll just say that Luke Skywalker lives on a spare, remote island where the ancient texts governing Jedi belief and practice are hidden for safe keeping.
At a crucial juncture of the story, we’re invited to ask whether or not the words found on those ancient pages forever limit what it means to be a Jedi. Is there some deeper truth to which they have been pointing? And will Luke allow those deeper truths to emerge? To do so, Luke must open his heart and mind to a new encounter with the Force.
In the opening sequences of John’s Gospel, Philip tells his friend Nathaniel that he has found the one foretold by the prophets: Jesus of Nazareth. Nathaniel was unimpressed. “Can anything good come from a dump like Nazareth?” Philip wasted no time plying Nathaniel with arguments. He simply said, “Come and see.”
Some things you have to see for yourself. That’s the way it is with life’s most important truths. Lots of people—especially people in power positions in our churches—are willing to tell us the meaning of our lives, the moral value of how other people live, and even the mind of God. What somebody else tells us about any of this is mere hearsay. We have to see it, feel it, inhabit it for ourselves.
Organized religion can devolve into a system dedicated to enforcing second-hand accounts of the spiritual and moral life. Religion grows stale and even oppressive when it rests solely on creeds, dogmas, and moral rules.
Like you I’ve encountered Christians accustomed to pummeling others with Bible passages and moral codes without a glimmer of compassion. In my case, they’ve used questions as power plays and traps instead of invitations to an authentic, reciprocal exchange about life-altering experience and hard-won reflection.
It has seemed to me that they’re sure that how they think will save them, will meet with God’s approval. They’re apparent goal has been to show me their disapproval of me and, by extension, God’s rejection of me. Underlying that goal seems to be a frantic impulse to preserve their way of thinking just as it is. To annihilate any insight or experience that might require deep and serious rethinking.
I’ve walked away from moments like this wondering what sort of personal encounter the other person has had with the holy, since my encounters have almost always left me realizing how much more there is to the divine than I had imagined or can yet fathom.
As a way to bring new vitality to religion, Richard Rohr and others have reminded us again and again of the mystical dimension of faith. The Church has always been a bit suspicious of mystics.
Ecclesiastical authorities feel the need to authenticate mystical experiences. And while I recognize that some pretty loopy stuff can pass for encounters with the divine, it’s also important to note that Church leaders are quick to test profound personal experiences with previously approved dogmas and slow to allow experience to revitalize and transform how we think about God in our midst.
Julian of Norwich, Hildegard of Bingen, and Francis of Assisi each had mind- and heart-stretching encounters with the Holy One. Julian had visions. Hildegard’s theological imagination yielded challenging images. Francis received the stigmata. Their lives pulsed and flickered with the presence of the divine. And while they are accepted by the Church, Julian, Hildegard, and Francis were and remain a puzzle and a challenge to the dogmatic, stabilizing impulses of organized religion.
Each of these mystics saw for themselves. Their lives stand as an invitation to each of us to do the same. To follow Christ—to really follow him—on this planet, we will have to let a personal, unique encounter with him change who God is for us, who we are, and who others are in God.
In other words, we have to hear Philip’s words to Nathaniel as a challenge to us today. Come and see for yourself.
Bishop Jake Owensby, of the Church of England, on his blog ‘Finding God in Messy Church’, has much to say about the need for a personal encounter with the God who is Love – like that of Julian of Norwich, Hildegard of Bingen, Francis of Assisi and other Mystics of the Christian Tradition Bishop Jake offers the example of American Franciscan and theologian Richard Rohr – whose understanding of the theory of ‘atonement’ I have mentioned already in a previous post of’ kiwianglo
The Mystics must often have been seen as ‘rebels’ by the Church authorities of their time, speaking of their experience of God as Love, rather than Wrath – a characteristic that seems to have been (and, in certain places, still is) the subject of power over others that speaks more of harsh discipline than loving discipleship.
In his statement: “They will know you are my disciples by your LOVE”, Jesus showed the perfect paradigm of what it means to be part of the Body of Christ in the world.
Saint Francis is often quoted as being the author of the well-known prayer: “Lord, make me an instrument of your Peace”. However, whether he was the actual author or not, Francis’s whole life -after his experience of marks of The Crucified Jesus – was one of kenosis (self-emptying), in emulation of Christ on the Cross, exemplifying what God gave up for ALL people.
Julian of Norwich, contemplating the Love of God in her own experience made the amazing statement that in the end; “All shall be well, all manner of things shall be well”.
Hildegard’s awareness of God’s loving presence led her often to sing God’s praises in pure, ecstatic acknowledgement of the power and majesty her encounters with God. Such understanding is that which informs the hearts and minds of those ‘Religious’ whose whole lives are bound together into Christ. Their daily round of study, work, prayer and song is their offering to God.
“The great love of God as revealed in the Son” are the words of a hymn which describes the tenor of the outworking of the Good News of the Gospel – a theme that should attract the attention of all who seek to love and serve other people in the world around us. Too often, the theme of God’s Wrath is offered to a world that needs, above all, a sign of God’s Love and Mercy. Pope Francis is one Church Leader who advocates this tool of radical evangelisation, and is often criticised by those whose motivation is different.
Father Ron Smith, Christchurch, New Zealand
(My wife, Diana and I will be taking a break on a Pacific Cruise for the next 2 weeks, so blogging will be at a minimum during that time. Blessings to all, Fr.Ron)