Welcome!

If you are here to explore working with a Spiritual Director, you may well be in the right place. Explore the site -- go to the GETTING STARTED (FAQ) page where many of your questions may already be answered; read the blog and listen to how you feel; follow some of the links to learn more; find out a little something about my background. If you'd like to contact me -- either to set up an appointment or ask a questions, there's a contact form on the right side of each page that you can use to MAKE A CONNECTION.

Most simply, though, the spirit of my practice can be summed up in these words (adapted from Robert Mabry Doss): For those who come here seeking God ... may God go with you. For those who come embracing life ... may life return your affection. And for those who come to seek a path ... may a way be found, and the courage to take it step by step.

Monday, June 18, 2018

Try God

This is an adapted version of something I originally wrote on my other blog, A Minister's Musings, back in May of 2014.

On my office wall I have a framed image that I took from the inside cover of the magazine Venture Inward (the journal of the Association of Research and Enlightenment).  In front of a beautiful painting of mountains there is a saying taken from one of the "life readings" of  Edgar Cayce.  The subject of the reading is identified as #1472, and this is an excerpt from their 12th reading.  It says:
"Then, in this era, this age of changes ... it behooves the entity (as everyone), in its relationships in any manner, to impress up others in every walk of life -- not impelling by force, but by love -- to try God; to listen to the voice within ..."
I've had this piece on the wall of whatever office I've inhabited for many years now, because I feel that it describes my calling -- to encourage people to "try God."  I will admit that I haven't always said that out loud to folks -- or, at least, not too loudly nor to too many, nor in those exact word -- but when I have those moments when I forget what it is that got me into this business in the first place, I find myself looking at that page.

One of the things I learned to say in divinity school was, " let me unpack that."  Think of a shoe box that someone has kept under their bed, filled with all sorts of memories and souvenirs of their life.  (Like in the beautiful Billy Joel song, Souvenir.)  "Unpacking" something -- like, for instance, a passage of scripture -- is like opening one of those boxes and taking out each thing, really looking at it, appreciating it, and then, maybe, seeing how they all fit together ... listening to the story they tell. 

So ... let me "unpack" that quote that hangs on my wall:

First, "... this age of changes."  Born in 1877, Edgar Cayce, the so-called "Sleeping Prophet," was at his peak in the early to mid-1900s.  In his lifetime he’d seen the advent of the telephone, electric lights, refrigerators and washing machines.  During his childhood the first real “skyscrapers” were built, and Wilber and Orville Wright had shown that humans could go even higher than that.  He lived through World War I, and died just months before the end of World War II.  An "age of change" indeed.  And like many spiritual teachers before and since, Cayce believed that a new "era" of spiritual awareness was on its way.  In so many ways, seemingly on every front, today would certainly qualify as an "age of changes," too. 

At the same time, I think that whether Cayce intended this meaning or not, we often go through our own "age of changes."  It might be a job lost, or a new job discovered (or new responsibilities in the job we've had).  Someone you know and love may have gotten seriously ill, or died.  You may have gotten a frightening diagnosis, or be facing your own mortality.  Perhaps you've just welcomed a baby into your home, or sent one off to college.  Maybe you're leaving college and wondering just what "life on the outside" is going to be like.  I could go on. The number and variety of life-changing experiences we face as humans are almost limitless.

So Cayce is speaking to the individual known in the records as #1472 and saying that this message is in the context of the "this era, this age of changes" (whether they be external or internal).  In other words, he could easily be talking to us.  When I first came across this passage I had the distinct feeling that it was talking to me.

What about the, "impress upon others… to try God" part?  I think it's important to note that the reading is quite clear that one should not use "force."  I understand that to mean not just physical force or coercion, but also any attempt to convert someone, to get someone to change their minds to ones own point of view. In other words, Cayce is being clear that the worst forms of "evangelism" and "proselytizing" are not what he's talking about.  Instead of this, he says, one should invite others to "try God" through love.  I would add, by example.

And that brings us back to the "try God" part of this whole thing. I am convinced, absolutely and utterly convinced, that there is a Sacred Something.  There is something "larger" than us -- call it an energy, call it a spirit, call it what you will. And this thing, whatever we call it, whatever it is, is what I believe people have always been pointing to when they talk about "God."

As previous posts have said, so many people today have been so utterly turned off by the way "God" has been depicted, that they have turned aside from considering any idea of God at all.  Yet, as I hope I've already said, you don't have to believe in "that God" -- whatever "that God" is for you -- for the concept of "God" to make sense.    Brian McLaren, a leader in what some have called "Emerging Church Movement," helpfully suggests that we think of  "God" has been portrayed in the Bible, for instance, as a character named "God," or, actually, a variety of characters with that name.  And given the reputation "God" has developed over time by the way he/she/it has been portrayed, many have closed their eyes and turned their backs on what I think of as the ultimate reality. And that, it seems to me, is a shame. It's like a tree refusing to nourish itself by the nearby stream because it had heard that streams were no good. It's like a flower blocking itself from the sun because it knew a plant that had once shriveled in the summer heat.

I have written elsewhere that I believe "spirituality" has to do with living life "that is life."  Thoreau makes the statement in Walden that he wants to live in such a way that, when the time comes for him to die, he doesn't look back at his life and realized that he'd never really lived.  Spirituality, I think, when divested of all the various theological/religious clothing it has been covered in, is simply about living life that is alive.  So, while I do believe it is my calling to encourage people to "try God," this could also mean, "try touching life at its depth," "try living the fullness of life," "try connecting to something greater than yourself," "try touching a deep and profound wonder."  Although the founders of what has become the Twelve Step movement were thinking about God, they were intentional about using words like "a power greater than oneself," or, "higher power."  Ultimately, the name doesn't matter.  It is the experience the name is pointing toward that is important.

So why use the "G-word"? After all, for so many people the word itself is a stumbling block, and if I'm not encouraging people to "try that old God we no longer believe it," then why use the old word? For me, the answer is simple:  there is so much literature, art, and music which uses this word. Some of it, of course, is too deeply steeped in "that God we don't believe it," making it essentially unusable. But much of it, I would daresay most of it, becomes not only more accessible but more profoundly meaningful when seen with new, more open, eyes.  The works of people like McLaren, Marcus Borg, Bishop John Spong, John Dominic Crossan, and so many others are specifically focused on helping people to learn to see the old texts in new ways.  And in and through these new understandings of these old teachings to, essentially, "try God."

This is the work I feel called to do.  So I would invite you -- not impelling by force, but by love -- to "try God" for yourself.

Pax tecum,

RevWik