Dialogue: A Contemplative Practice

Jesus just kept talking to--and healing--all the people
the rest of his society wanted to stay away from.

Unfortunately, for much of Christianity faith largely became believing things to be true or false (intellectual assent) instead of giving people concrete practices so they could themselves know how to open up (faith), hold on (hope), and allow an infilling from another source (love). Contemplation opens our heads, hearts, and bodies to God’s living presence.

-- Franciscan Catholic priest Fr. Richard Rohr

The above writing by Richard Rohr offers an important challenge to Christians or anyone else concerned about ethics, respecting life and social justice.

Too often, when we hear the phrase "respect life" we immediately think of certain hot-button issues  and we've come to expect the accompanying arguments as to who is "right" and who is "wrong." Christian church traditions have a long history of unpacking the ethical and moral dimensions along these lines.

That's all fair and noble, and I certainly approach these issues this way, too--but it is not the only way to learn how to respect life. Intellectual analysis and agreement are important, but so too are practices that help open our hearts. Behaviors and activities that open our hearts are known as contemplative practices.

The gospels do not record Jesus articulating precise, analytical arguments for or against certain causes. Rather, he modeled a practice of encounter and dialogue. Through that experience, your heart expands, your sensitivities deepen and your empathy blossoms. This method is also very freeing as Jesus rarely tells us how or what to think but rather he gives us to tools to get them ourselves.

The analytical mind can be prone to unhealthy control tendencies. We fear what someone may do with that freedom, so we want to make sure they think a certain way. We want to overwhelm them with astute argumentation. We want to prove them wrong. But we have to be careful, as this can be an affront to the very human dignity we are trying to articulate.

Further, human beings are not objects to be analyzed but rather people to be known. I am not in any way discounting the importance of intellectual inquiry, because there's not enough of that in the world today, either. But when our society is so polarized--and when arguments flare up for or against certain issues--and when our world is so bitterly divided in the culture wars--perhaps we need something more than just one more convincing article or thesis.

Jesus shows another way. What if we were to just sit with someone? What if we were to come face to face with the mystery of who this person is, in all their complexities, absurdities and vulnerabilities? What if we were to look in this person's eyes and see the divine image looking back at us?

After all, it is very rarely good theology that converts people to Christianity but rather a personal experience of Jesus or at the very least, Jesus known through his church. The theology comes later as people try to understand what they have come to know through faith. The same holds true for how we regard our fellow humans. Let's face it: Most of us already know what we believe about certain issues and we look for reasons to bolster that later. So how did that initial opinion form?

Perhaps if we did what Jesus showed, we wouldn't need to read bioethics studies to calculate when indeed life begins. We wouldn't need to consult ethicists to determine the precise moment when they deem violence is justified in a particular situation. Nor would we need social justice advocates reminding us that the lives of a particular group matter.  We would simply move differently in the world. We would respond to attacks on human life as if our very sister or brother were threatened. The ethical arguments have a place but they would come later.

This is what, I believe, Jesus is calling us toward: To respond to attacks on human dignity and life as viscerally and immediately as if it were our very mother or father.

And while this post is not about academic studies, the data does back this up: Those who have the most hostility toward disenfranchised groups are almost always those who have no personal relationships with members of that group. For example, this link shows that many who distrust Muslims often do not know any Muslims. Likewise, I have found that people who have the most hostility toward unauthorized immigrants are those who have never taken the time to hear any of them talk about their lives and why they made the choices they have made. The same is true for racial tensions, LGBTQ+ prejudice, suspicion between Catholics and evangelicals of each other, to name just a few examples.

***

This is part 3 in a series during October on Respect Life.

Part 1: Ecumenical and Interreligious Dialogue is a Respect Life Issue

Part 2: Yes, Even "Those People"

Ecumenical and Interreligious Dialogue is a Respect Life Issue

Jesus talks to a Samaritan woman.

Have you ever paused to consider that dialogue between people of different Christian and non-Christian religious traditions is actually a way to respect life itself?

Respect Life Month

Every October, the U.S. Catholic Church celebrates Respect Life month.

People of other faith tradition are certainly welcome to join in the prayer, events and simply the focus of attention that such a commemoration brings.

Setting aside a time to reflect deeply on the dignity of life calls us to consider all the ways that human life is disrespected, disregarded and simply ended in our culture. Certainly, we can point to certain key issues where human life is threatened in direct ways, such as abortion, war, the death penalty, assisted suicide and others.

Diagnosis: Throwaway Culture

But the more we reflect, we come to understand what Pope John Paul II so often said: We live in a "culture of death" where life is simply treated like unwanted junk mail that we throwaway without a second thought.

Even those certain issues have their roots in many seemingly benign activities that over time bear really terrible fruit. What I mean is: When someone chooses to cross the line and do an extreme action such as killing another human being, that action did not simply happen in isolation. There were undoubtedly many years of slow and steady dehumanizing words, inferences and actions that paved the way, unfortunately, for this terrible action. 

A person who ends another person's life crosses a line, but all of society should reflect on ways we all may have some responsibility for what we did to take that person right up to the line, so to speak. Yes, every individual is responsible for her or his own actions--but none of us lives in a vacuum. We are constantly being influenced by those around us, and this is especially true for the youth. Advertisers and political propagandists bombard us constantly with images and ideas, and it does affect what we do. Otherwise, there would be no advertising industry and political campaigns would focus on issues rather than images, but we see that's not the case.

Virtually every Christian tradition affirms that all human life is created by God with God-given dignity--that means all life, all the time, everywhere. That message is bursting forth on nearly every page of the Bible (this link has some choice passages to consider). Yet, in our fallen world we humans put dividers where God has not put any.

Both consciously and unconsciously, we humans start deciding that some people are more important than others and that only certain people deserve special consideration. We convince ourselves there are reasons for this (using inaccurate generalizations) even when our faith informs us that this is not the case.

Treatment:  Dialogue, A Necessary Tonic

One of the best ways to resist the throwaway culture that disregards life is to dialogue with other people. And by "dialogue" I do not mean just a random conversation, however nice that may be. I mean to truly encounter the person in a relationship of equality, respect and peace.  It means taking a genuine interest in another person and being truly open to what another person has to offer.

Real dialogue with another person is a profound act of defiance of our culture of death. To truly dialogue with someone that means you respect this person in her or his full God-given dignity. It is an attempt to understand the person on his or her own terms--to get to know them as they truly are, not based on what others have said about them. It is a way to get past the labels and to encounter the true person. It is a way to ultimately establish peace.

Labels

Labels enforce the throwaway culture. We have all heard comments such as these:

"Oh, that person is just a criminal, so I don't have to respect him."

"They are just a bunch of Muslims, so we should be afraid of them."

"That (African-American) kid is just a thug, keep him at a distance."

"They are just a bunch of liberals (or conservatives)--not worth our time hearing what they have to say."

"People are mistreated in detention? They are just illegals, so they must deserve it."

Any time the word "just" is used to describe a group of people, you know the throwaway culture is in full operation, i.e. "they are just Muslims."

On top of that, we often attach other descriptors that are unfair, such as "terrorist Muslims" or "criminal immigrants" or "thug" when we are referring to African-American males, but almost always those broad-based descriptors are neither fair nor accurate.

Encounter: The Way of Jesus

To truly encounter another person in her or his full humanity is to do what Jesus did time and time again throughout his earthly ministry as reported in the Gospels. He continued to treat every single person with full respect, including--and perhaps especially--those that the rest of society wanted to disregard: The hated Samaritans... the unwed mother... the adulterer... the diseased or mentally ill... even the slimy tax collector. People often asked Jesus "Why are you bothering with such-and-such a person?" Jesus always went past their imaginary walls and encountered the person.

In doing this, Jesus gave us a model to follow.

In Their Own Words

Jesus did not always agree with every single thing that every person did--and neither should we. We can and should maintain our principles. But that should never stop us from truly encountering another person as respectfully as Jesus did. We should hear their perspective in their own words before we decide that we disagree with them. Let people tell their own story. Honor that. Let them describe themselves and assign their own labels for themselves. Let us truly value each and every person and what they have to say.

I would go as far as to say we should never judge the actions of a group of people until we have worked hard to get to know its members and hear them describe their circumstances in their own words. That includes immigrants, Muslims, Middle Easterners, criminals, unwed mothers, everyone.

And then in a relationship of true equality, let us share our story with them.

The Use, Misuse and Non-Use of Religious Labels

Religious labels are very often used to cause this division and misunderstandings. What comes to mind when you hear the following words: Muslims, Jews, Catholics, evangelicals, pagans.... with each of those terms, I bet we immediately have images, definitions and even fears that immediately pop into our minds. These imagines impact the decisions we make when our nation chooses to go to war with certain nations. It impacts the decisions voters make in regards to our criminal justice system, in particular the death penalty.

In the case of the Islamic and Jewish faiths, religious labels are often used to justify violence. You see actions of terrorism when Jewish synagogues have been attacked here in the U.S. by hate groups or individuals and when our nation goes to war with a "Muslim nation."

Violence is also justified by refusing to acknowledge the religious faith of people. For example, I do not recall a single news article that tells us about the "Christians at the southern border." NEVER. I have been following the news on immigration for many years and I never have I seen this stated boldly or directly.

Yet, virtually every immigrant, refugee and asylum seeker at the southern border--who is being cruelly detained and their families separated by current border enforcement methods--can all be described as evangelical, Pentecostal or Catholic Christians. Calling them "Christians" would increase sympathy for them which is no doubt why we ever hear them described this way.

But when it comes time to wage war with a Middle Eastern country, suddenly all we hear is that this is a "Muslim nation." That is because the public has been programmed to attach negative connotations to Muslims which decrease empathy for them.

Conclusion

Whenever I have set labels aside and have truly tried to imitate Jesus and encounter people on their own terms, I have immediately discovered that these labels were unfair, incomplete and often downright wrong. By talking to a Muslim man and hearing his story, I am re-affirming my faith in the God of all who created everyone with dignity. I am taking back control of my life and my thoughts from the forces of marketing, propaganda and prejudice. I am making my own decisions rather than being swayed by clever spin campaigns. I am re-affirming that my faith comes first and my politics come second--always. And perhaps most importantly: I am respecting life.

'Coexist' Bumper Stickers

What do you think of those Coexist bumper stickers?

What I don't like about them is the word itself: Coexist. It's not the only word used, but it is by far the most widely recognized of the genre.

Coexist and Tolerance work very well as bumper stickers, because their letters translate to religious symbols easily. But the words themselves don't convey enough imagination. Surely, we can do a whole lot better than simply coexist together and tolerate each other!

Respect, Interact. These move us in the right direction.

Harmony, Peace, One Love, Compassion. These are better at calling our imaginations toward true harmony amidst our diversity.

But I think they are all good. They all call us to imagine a better way for people of different backgrounds to live together--to coexist in peace. Coexistence and tolerance may be a minimum, but all too often it is a huge challenge even to have that!

Our Common Home

I have a very tense relationship with neighbors on one side of my home and a very peaceful relationship with neighbors on the other side. On the tense side, we all watch the property line very closely. There is literally a fence, and it gets more entrenched and elaborate each year. We are often on guard since trust is lacking and we aren't sure how to build it. I often avoid that side of the yard. It's hard to be out there and not think about the tense situation. On the other side, I'm not even sure exactly where the property line is. We greet each other warmly and help each other occasionally. It feels like there is a whole lot more breathing room and we spend very little time thinking about it.

Peace is extremely beneficial--it frees up time, money and emotional energy. It improves our health. It does not take an actual war before we experience the value of peace. Any relationship where peace is lacking is costly and limits your freedom.

It is not that much different sharing the same planet. Pope Francis reminds us that the earth is our common home. All human beings share it. Not to coexist, at a minimum, is to live in denial about the shared home we all have and the realities that brings.

Besides, coexisting in peace is a minimum requirement if we are to respect every person's religious freedom.

This page is dedicated to building dialogue--and hopefully better relationships--between religious groups, particularly Catholics and Evangelicals. It seems like the central tension always revolves around this fundamental question--will I put what I know in jeopardy if I affirm something about another group?

I'm here to suggest that tolerating other religious groups does not have to in any way limit your own commitment to your faith. If you follow Jesus as the Way, Truth and Life, this should be easy--because it is what Jesus himself did while walking on this earth!

Jesus did a whole lot more than just coexist--he was constantly interacting with people outside of the "approved" groups of the day, including religious groups. He associated with all manner of people and treated them with respect--including enemies. If Jesus did anything at all in his earthly ministry, it was this mind-blowing witness of treating everyone equally while interacting with literally anyone and everyone--those who crossed his path and those he went out of his way to find.

Jesus had so much respect for the dignity of every single human person that he didn't treat people differently based on the stigmas, classes and cliques that usually divide people. He did not honor those divisions at all, because he was too busy honoring the person.

Jesus bypassed the "media" of his day and went straight to person-to-person dialogue.

Jesus practiced this even during extraordinary circumstances:  He talked to his disciples about love at the very instant he knew Judas was slithering out of the room to make his traitorous deal (John 13:21-38). Throughout his arrest, trial and execution, he was peaceful. He told his disciples to "put down the sword" (Matthew 26:52) and prayed for all those involved in his crucifixion, "Father, forgive them" (Luke 23:34).

There is a place to defend yourself and resist evil, but you don't have to do it violently or lose respect for all people in the process. If people do want to harm us, we should do everything we can to resolve those tensions so that we can coexist in peace.

Bumper Stickers Redux

I always thought the Coexist bumper stickers were clever, and I appreciated their message. But I wasn't comfortable having bumper stickers at all. I have always resisted anything that seemed to oversimplify human life. I'm a whole person with complex thoughts and feelings--and so are you, too. Being a walking, talking billboard for certain causes seemed to minimize the depth of the human experience. It does not invite true dialogue but rather feels like preaching at someone.

But I also realized we communicate in many ways. Some people say a lot by their outfit or choice or automobile. Our world is flooded with advertising of all kinds. One day, I decided it was a huge missed opportunity not to witness to what I believe in this way. If nothing else, it could be a conversation starter or could help embolden others who may be wavering in their faith.

A bumper sticker is perhaps no different than a cross necklace or minister's collar—it is a public statement of what I stand for.

I am asking others to hold me accountable when I display these public statements. I am sticking my neck out on the line, and that is risky. I'm not just preaching my views to others but also setting a standard for myself. There is power is speaking our views out loud in public. Like marriage vows--you stand before the whole community declaring your intentions.

There are lots of criticisms about these bumper stickers. Often, they relate to driving behavior, such as: Those people with the Coexist bumper stickers are always cutting me off or swerving while texting and driving. I suspect comments like these are intended to discredit a movement, making the association that these beliefs must emanate from selfish or naïve people.

Indeed, when something you believe in gets under the skin of someone else, it is always best to conduct yourself in public as politely, intelligently and respectfully as possible. Otherwise, your behavior gives people an all-too-easy reason to discount both you and your views.

While trolling the internet looking for graphics for this post, I discovered that those bumper stickers have a lot of anger associated with them.  On top of that, there are many unkind spin-off's and spoofs, to boot. It seems they strike a nerve. The anger comes from many sides--atheists who think that any religious expression at all is ridiculous all the way to devotees of a particular religion claiming that these bumper stickers obfuscate the uniqueness of their particular religious tradition.

Few people will actually come right out and say that respect and tolerance are against their religious beliefs, so they create a side discussion, instead--saying that the people with these bumper stickers have bad driving habits or that tolerance is a political impossibility given what those people believe.

I think the real reason is that true faith involves true vulnerability. It calls us our of our protective shell. It coaxes us to imagine something better than what we are used to. It seems easier, at least at first glance, staying on guard and keep divisions up. It is much harder to take those brave steps to encounter other people in true dialogue. In the long run, peace is much easier, but it is difficult to take those first steps.

So I will put my Coexist and Tolerance bumper stickers on my car--not to water down my faith or step away from my church tradition, but actually as a very mark of my Christian faith and identity. They feels like Good News to me, and Scripture tells us to share the Good News. I also hope I live up to this by my own behavior.

People will recognize that we are indeed Christians by whether or not we show love. Love requires us to do a whole lot more than just coexist and tolerate others. But those are indeed the very first--and necessary--steps.

Never Break Relationship

Scott Schaeffer-Duffy knows a thing or two about talking to people about difficult topics. 

As co-founder of the of the Sts. Francis and Thérèse Catholic Worker in Worchester, MA, he publically promotes the consistent ethic of life--a moral framework which ties all issues of life and killing together.  As a result, he takes a stand against abortion, war, the death penalty, poverty and violence of all kinds. 

It is a very Christian idea with deep roots all the way back to Jesus and the Ancient Israelite prophets.  Nevertheless, it is an idea which faces no shortage of resistance.  The odds are high that something he says on some issue is going to be a hot button issue for someone.  It puts him on both sides of the culture wars but at home on neither side.  Emotions can get high, and many red faced people have shouted all manner of insults at him. 

He gave some advice at a Catholic Worker gathering many years ago that has left a profound impression on me:  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

This includes--perhaps especially so--the people who are rigidly entrenched and refusing to dialogue in a respectful manner.

The longer I continue in ministry, the more I see the wisdom in that.

I asked in an earlier post if it is okay to be intolerant of intolerance.  The first question to ask is:  Am I getting an accurate read on the other person?  If I sit back and say those people are just intolerant, how do I know whether or not that is actually true?   It could just be my perception of them or what I have been told (or manipulated) to believe about them.  I am never going to understand them well from a distance.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

What is the best way to help facilitate a change?  Assuming I do believe they are mistaken, shunning them is not likely to have much of an impact.  After all, shunning is the first step on the path to dehumanizing and objectifying someone, opening the door to justify later abuse.  I need to see their humanity as God's image and never lose sight of that in my dealings with them--for my sake as well as theirs.  I hope they see my humanity as God's image, too.  Once that happens, we will be in a much better place to truly listen to each other and consider what each other is saying.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.
 
Language is important.  Let's not whitewash:  Intolerant of intolerance is exactly that--intolerance.  I may not like intolerance, but saying I am intolerant of it is a red flag on my own spiritual development.  Reacting to their intolerance with an equal and opposite display of intolerance on my part puts them in the driver's set--they end up setting the tone for my behavior.  Never break relationship, stay in dialogue.

I keep coming back to the importance of combining contemplation with action, a theme we have explored a lot in this blog lately.  Mystics have been saying this for centuries, including Richard Rohr and Thomas Merton.  Scott Schaeffer-Duffy's words resonate here greatly. 

It may be a very fine thing to take the action of protesting the behavior of some folks that I find to be intolerant.  My conscience and faith formed in the Gospel may drive me to that action.  However, I also have a duty to combine that with contemplation. In other words I have to be constantly meditating, praying, being in dialogue with others and reading about the subject to make abundantly sure I am not simply wrong or driven by my own agenda.  Knowing how well the ego can hide behind layers of pride, jealousy, fear, real wounds and false humility, I have to be on an ever-watchful vigil.  The exercise of self-reflection never ends.

I have to bring a prayerful, loving, humble stance to my social action because there is no other way to ensure I am not just replacing one prejudice or intolerance with another.  Even that is not foolproof, but it is the best way we have to check and balance our own runaway ego--it is a way to stay rooted in our own faith and values and not just mindlessly react.  Then our actions inform and influence our contemplation in an endless interplay.

Without contemplation, we become what we hate.

Case in point:  A man grows up in an excessively controlling family.  Boundaries are not respected and privacy is not a part of family culture, despite his discomfort and perhaps his protests.  He crawls into an emotional shell only to be regularly prodded, guilted and manipulated out of that.  After coming out of that environment, he declares--consciously or subconsciously--never to let anyone else control him ever again.  His instincts are on high alert to resist any hint at control.  He becomes so engrossed with resisting external control, however, that it becomes very difficult to be in relationship with him.  To be a guest in his house, you have to follow his all-too-rigid rules and endless protocol.  Walking on eggshells is an ever-present reality around him.

While I would never deny him his right to set his own boundaries and preferences for his home, he fails to see that he has actually become like his family of origin.  Like his parents who were not responsive to him as a child, his baggage is so all-engrossing that he cannot be responsive to the needs of his guests and friends--they have to bend to his wishes (even the point of compromising themselves), but he has little flexibility to do likewise.  There is a fine line between his right to protect his boundaries and his tendency to achieve that by imposing increasingly restrictive rules on the people around him.  People are in a compromising position around him, just like he was in a compromising position growing up.

The mechanism he used for breaking away from his family's control is . . . control.  It is the stuff of Greek tragedy, but it makes sense--control is what he knows.  In this way, we come to see our enemies like unto ourselves.  They trigger us because they are more like us than we ever care to imagine.  The seeds for compassion are sown.

This man is not an isolated example--he represents all of us.  We become what we hate, says my uncle.   It is not a question of "if" this may happen but "when" and "how."  Hindus call it karma.  Psychologists call it projection.  Ancient Greeks referred to it as tragedy.  Newtonian physicists talk of actions having equal and opposite reactions.  Jesus told us to love our enemies and hinted that we may find ourselves in them somehow. 

Action without contemplation puts us on due course to become just like our enemies, even when it may seem like we are working to be the complete opposite. 

All too often in history, a government is overthrown for its miscarriage of justice only to be replaced with another regime as evil as the previous one, despite the seemingly good intentions of those struggling for change.  The exceptions are those who are intentional about reconciliation and mature contemplation.  Otherwise, you hurt those who have hurt you, hate those who have hated you and limit those who have limited you.  The subsequent generation would not see justice but only oppression and then their resistance starts.

The Gospel offers an alternative:  Love your enemies. Bless those who persecute you. Do good to those who hate you. Pray for those who mistreat you. 

In other words:  Stop the madness from continuing in a never-ending chain reaction of violence.

No matter how justifiable it may seem, I have got to always stay in relationship and dialogue with those with whom I disagree.  Through faith, I maintain my center despite the storms going on around me.  My dialogue with them--as well as my internal self-reflection--helps ensure that I am not creating a rigid fundamentalism of my own but rather a stance of being rooted in faith while also responsive to the world around me.

There is a depressingly endless array of injustices in this world.  We cannot sit paralyzed, unwilling to take action out of our own self-doubt or sense of humility.  All we can do is take action with a firm commitment to continual self-evaluation and education in prayer, discussion, study and personal growth--and always keep the doors of possibility open with those with whom we disagree so that their methods of exclusion do not become our methods of exclusion.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

Family Matters

Holiday political arguments can be the stuff of legend. 

My family is nothing unusual in this regard.

The way it would often end, however, has left an impression on me years later even though many of these folks have since passed on and the family has grown and drifted as the generations have accumulated.

On one side of my family, there are people with a wide range of political views and an even wider range of opinions about how vocal we ought to be about them.  There are right-wingers and peace activists, middle-of-the-roaders and apolitical folks.  Some like to debate while others avoid it at all costs.  

Our Christmas gatherings have seen their share of knock-down-drag-out debates and no-holds-barred arguments. 

It could begin with outright intentional baiting or perhaps an innocent-sounding comment that flares up.  It continues as participants engage each other with a mix of both curiosity and repulsion--do you really think or believe this way?  It peaks with blame and hostility.

 

Despite all that, when we have gathered our coats, presents and plates of cookies and are headed for the door, something on the order of a Christmas miracle happens.

 

We usually come back to that place where we say out loud that we are still glad we get together.  Even if we see each other only once or twice a year, it does matter--we are still family and gathering is important.  Some of us would rarely opt to spend time together otherwise, yet there is something about family that speaks to a bond.  We witness to that bond by showing up.  Perhaps all we can do is agree to disagree.

(It might have been even better to start the arguments with these affirmations, but I digress.)

Christianity teaches that all humans are one family as children of the one God.  We certainly share the same world and its resources.  Like my relatives, we ought to do something to keep the dialogue open.  It matters that we are in relationship. 

 

Agreeing to disagree is much more powerful than our society usually regards it.  It is not a blow off--there is respect; there is acknowledgement; there is a proposed way of sitting with those differences.  It creates space to pause and re-center ourselves.  It may not be perfect, but it is a step.

We wish each other "Merry Christmas," "Safe travels" and perhaps most importantly, "See you next year."

 

Let Go, Let God

God uses failure to bring us to brokenness,

to force us back to a posture of dependence.

--Seth Barnes

 

***

Have you ever had an experience with people so difficult that it actually becomes easy?

You meet each other; you start talking.  You get to a point where you realize you cannot connect to them through any mechanism you may normally use.  You cannot find any natural points of congruency.  Perhaps you are driven to the brink of frustration.  Nothing you do works to find common ground or reconcile differences.  You realize: I am not going to change them, and they are not going to change me.

You simply run out of options and then something amazing happens:

You throw your proverbial hands up in the air and simply let go.

You let go of all your needs--your expectations, your demands, your codependent dynamics, your impulse to steer the relationship to go in a certain direction.  

You resign yourself to let it be whatever it is going to be.  Perhaps in a half-comical way, you simply accept each other as you are, because you just know you are so completely and totally different.

In other words, you get out of God's way.

Wise people say the ego needs to fail in exactly this way.  It is like hitting rock bottom and knowing in your bones that you are at the end of your supply chain.  It is the desperate plea of the Psalmist who realizes that s/he is ultimately powerless and dependent on God alone.  That stance of complete and total reliance on God--rather than our own power--is the place of spiritual communion with God. 

You can say that we live the Christian life on our knees.

Two egos can lock horns and fight almost endlessly.  When someone is depleted, they may pause--but after a rest, they invariably resume locking horns.  This can go on for years, and each party will convince itself of the value of his/her position and the necessity of standing ground in this fashion.  After all, wars are rarely won when one side becomes convinced of the other's rightness. Wars are more about exterminating and exhausting the other but never about change-of-heart.

Grace appears--through epiphany or sheer exhaustion--when this method absolutely and totally fails in a way that is abundantly clear.

It can be excruciating.  You are pushed to your limits.  So much of what you have invested in has failed miserably.

It can also be tremendously freeing.  Your pride was never a part of your true self anyway.

What seems at first like a contradiction is that this very attitude of completely letting go actually forms the foundation for the best kind of relationship--both with yourself and with the other.  It seems like a paradox, but it actually makes good sense.  It is a profound platform for love and affection to flow--the complete absurdity of the relationship has allowed you to shirk all your baggage about relationships, which then allows something miraculous to happen:  You discover a healthy place of self-differentiation--I do not need you to change in order for me to be okay with myself.

You do not experience any affirmation from them in any way that you normally rely on.  As a result, you stand on your own feet in your own shoes simply because there is no crutch available to you.  An amazing paradox:  Living on your knees allows you to stand your ground.

An authentic relationship becomes possible because you let go of your demands on the other person as well as any fantasy about who you or they might be.  You can instead receive the authentic truth of who they are.  This also means accepting the authentic truth of who you are, rather than seeing yourself through the blurred lens of your baggage.  You no longer feel compelled to avoid whatever it is inside of you that is uncomfortable--wounds that are unhealed.

This is one of the many grace-filled ways that the "enemy"--or the stranger, the lost, the misunderstood, the forgotten, the marginalized, the relationship sparring partner--becomes a key to finding ourselves.  This includes anyone in an oppositional position.  No one is excluded in God's Kingdom, because to exclude anyone is to put a barrier to your own self and the work you need to do on your spiritual walk.

***

Then—and only then—once a relationship is established where you truly respect the person as they are right now, of course, there is a place for giving each other constructive feedback.  There is a time to be a prophetic witness.  But that feedback comes out of genuine respect.  It does not come from yelling at each other based on what we think we know about each other but rather from the genuine care and concern that comes from the lived experience of a relationship.  It does not come from an agenda rooted in fears or being manipulated by our own triggers, nor does it come from painting people into categories with broad brush strokes.

It is a wonderful exercise then to apply this to all relationships--do not put any demands or pressure on each other.  Accept each other becomes your primary stance to anyone.  Sometimes it is easiest to do this with the people who are furthest removed.  Then begins the journey back home with this new revelation--bringing this same mode of healthy self-differentiation, lack of attachment to an agenda, acceptance of each other and calming of our triggers that we have experienced with strangers--back home to coworkers, neighbors, friends and ultimately our family and spouse.  This path back home, in this light, gets harder and harder the closer to "home" you get--because the closer relationships--and their inherent baggage--are much deeper.

***

This post applies to all relationships, but it might be interesting to think of how it relates to the quest for Christian unity.  Many say that quest for Christian unity has stalled.  We have reached the limits in many cases of what academics can resolve and what hierarchical structures can accommodate.  We know that arguments and wars do not work, and few ecumenists want to return to that method of solving theological differences.  Academic debates today are far kinder and more polite than ever.  In fact, the average church goer might be surprised to find out how well representatives from different denominations get along in this process. 

The real challenge for today, I believe, is learning to be okay and accept each other in our differences.  People are afraid to give up their debates and arguments about each other. We stick our necks out, but only so much.  Whether we are academics, clergy or any other member of a church denominations, what would it means for us to ask ourselves:  Before entering a debate with anyone, how can we begin that dialogue on our knees?  Have we gone through the personal conversion necessary before attempting to broker anyone else's conversion?  Accepting each other--and all that it implies--is not the end of the journey but rather a new beginning. 

 

Why I Need the Religious Right

I would like to think I am difficult to categorize.

I hold some conservative views that would surprise my liberal friends. I have other views that would make not just conservatives but even liberals uneasy. I am probably more traditional than conservative and more radical than liberal. I am strongly Catholic but in a way that forever needs explanation--everyday Catholicism is filled with beauty, but the blasé cultural stereotype falls so far short.

 

Since the internet is not in any dire need of more self-indulgence, why am I taking the time to write all this on a blog about Christian unity?

The reason is this: There are a lot of words and phrases you could use to describe me. Each of those words needs context and qualification before they feel right, but there are many hats that fit and many others I can fit into by degree. However, out of all the categories that I can be associated with, out of all the labels that folks might think apply to me, at least in part, the designation “religious right” is almost certainly not one of them.

That is exactly why I need them.

***

The Southern Baptist Convention.

Some would say this is Ground Zero of the Religious Right. A key partisan figure in our society. A hotbed of intolerance. Some would say they manifest everything that is wrong in America. And they have horns and smoke comes out of their noses, too.

Others would call them the daring voices standing up for what is good and traditional. They manifest the soul of small town America. They dig their heels in and resist with all their might the culture's downward slide. Some might say they represent everything that is right in America.

Another way of saying this is: Welcome to the Culture Wars.

***

I would like to think I can find common ground with just about anybody. I enjoy the company of folks all over the religious and political spectrum. I do not just tolerate but enjoy diversity. I love a vigorous debate of opposing, well-formed, sincere views. I soak up just about all forms of diversity, with one notable exception: The intolerance I find within religious or political fundamentalism.

I wonder about the limits of tolerance--is it okay to be intolerant of intolerance?

Or is that just another form of intolerance itself?

***

Throughout my life I have found myself regularly associating with the religious right.

I keep asking—Why me? Why this? Out of all the groups to be in dialogue with, why have I found myself so consistently face-to-face with them? Is this the Holy Spirit jerking my chain or karma playing games with me?

I would absolutely enjoy sharing company with Buddhist monks or Hindu priests. I have a lot in common with many mainline Protestants. But almost as if it's right on the schedule of some cosmic clockwork, I find myself face-to-face with the religious right--whether it be in friendships, work or joint projects.

Don't get me wrong--I have a lot of good things to say about the Southern Baptists in general and the religious right as a whole. Some have become my friends. I have worked together with them in many circumstances. It is not that they are unfamiliar, it is just that--as a whole--they are difficult. For me.

It may be strange to hear that a person who works full-time in reconciliation between Catholic and Evangelical Christians is someone who is not comfortable with a significant part of that role.

But that is exactly the reason--I believe that is why they are in my life: I need the religious right because they are difficult for me.

***

The work of ecumenical and interfaith dialogue has many facets. It is academic; it is social. It takes places at conferences and in meeting rooms with long tables. It happens in the trenches of community service and neighborhood Bible studies. Representatives meet each other everywhere from the pages of peer-reviewed journals to long discussions over a favorite beverage. They share thoughts, they confront differences and they bring messages back to their respective communities.

However, the work does not truly begin--not really--until the moment you find yourself uncomfortable.

***

I have been an activist for much of my life. The bulk of my work has been trying to persuade people—trying to stir up action, trying to convince people, trying to organize people for the sake of the Gospel.  

Trying, trying, trying . . . to do what, exactly? To change hearts and minds, I would say--to help us imagine the Kingdom and work towards that Kingdom on earth, through God's grace.

I fancy myself like that man in Plato's cave who got a glimpse of something important who is desperately trying to turn the heads of everyone else to see. How to form conscience, open eyes, organize for positive change, preach the Kingdom of God--these are the matters I have brooded over for years.

In doing ecumenical and interfaith work, I have to suspend a lot of that. Or at least, change my approach dramatically. In this work--and perhaps in all work--change comes about in a different way.

It is easy to point to a group of people and start criticizing, saying, this is their fault here and this is their fault there. Whether this method actually works or not is another story, but it is easy to do.

I never wanted to be a judgmental activist. I always found that attitude and those methods counter-productive and disrespectful. In fact, I once led advocacy efforts half-jokingly subtitled "peace activism for the rest of us." It was an attempt to be a voice for social justice causes without the self-righteous egoic posturing common in activism which only ends up marginalizing both itself and the causes it champions.

Still, the urge to get others to be different has always somehow been an underlying, motivating impulse.

 

The prophetic voice has always come easily for me.  What has been harder to come by is the wisdom voice. I describe this as accepting others for who they are--beginning every relationship with this deep respect, interest and fascination for who they are--exactly as they are--at this moment. Coming without an agenda. "Patience" is the word that keeps coming to mind here. Letting go. Calming that all-to-quick autonomic impulse to rush into action, defend my views and resist what I fervently believe needs to be clarified or corrected.

There is still a need to advocate for causes--we are not to be paralyzed into inaction. However, a wisdom figure would do this through friendship and invitation rather than through force of any kind, including manipulation, pressure or even sometimes firm argumentation. The first step is respect: Tell me who you are and I will tell you who I am, and before we do anything else let's just sit with that for a while.

(This section owes a debt to Richard Rohr and Walter Brueggeman. See this piece. Brueggemann suggests that the three sections of Hebrew Scriptures--Torah, Prophets and Wisdom--roughly correspond with the three main stages of human development).
 

***

The paradox is that if change is going to come at all, it will come most readily when you quit trying to change things and simply respect everything as it is right now. That moment of sincere acceptance--and it has to be sincere--creates the space for movement.

***

It is easy to write off the Southern Baptists and say these are narrow minded people who are brimming with intolerance. There is always someone they are opposed to. Anti-gay is the current one. Always anti-someone.  Anti-Catholic is an old favorite and reliable go-to. There are still some rather steamy anti-Catholic blogs you can find, and some folks are more than happy to disseminate them through the SBC's twitter hashtags.

Contemplatives tell us the ego defines itself by being opposed to other things, by grouping: I am this so therefore I am not that. In that scenario, however, the end result is that you always need an enemy. You cannot have an identity until there is someone to compare yourself with who is not like you. When the ego needs a fix to affirm itself, it predictably bashes someone. Conflict is inevitable so long as we are living out of the ego stage.

 

They say this is what Jesus meant when he urged people to look beyond the transient nature of this world to discover that which is eternal. The ego is an overall word for this false self of pride, jealousy, competition and other qualities Christians have long identified as sinful--expressions of our "fallen" nature.

***

The religious right is the group I do not know what to do with.

I often try to ignore them. I pretend they just do not exist. 

At first, this sounds reasonable, and it works for a while--we disagree, so I will live my life as I see fit, and they will do the same and we will muddle through life the best we can. We will simply coexist. It is not bad, and heck, at least we are not killing each other.

Our paths inevitably intersect, however. We do share the same planet, after all.

I think to myself that they are the source of all our problems. I say, subconsciously or otherwise: It would be better if their viewpoint simply did not exist.

I might approach my ecumenical work with the silent agenda that the only way for us to move forward is to convert them all to my way of looking at things. At least get them into the ballpark.

This is not to say that there is not a place for legitimate growth. Perhaps we would all be better off if some things were to change. However, I am talking here about a problem which is my attitude and agenda that I bring to the conversation before it even happens. This is the interior work I need to do. I need the religious right to remind me of this.

***
 

Jesus told us to share the Good News. He did not tell us to homogenize the world into our own image. However, this is what I see the religious right doing which I oppose so strongly. In my opposition, my approach has to be something different.

Even naming my concern in the above paragraph could be my ego's sneaky way of getting a jab in. And even stating that covers it up even more by feigning humility while letting the original comment still stand. It's good cop bad cop, ego style. I get to make my jab and then get the redemption that comes via apologizing for the jab. The ego can hide so well behind many layers.

Better people than me have pointed out that this impulse to convert is actually a sinister form of violence--I want to erase all the things about you that are distinctive, everything that I do not like about you which makes me uncomfortable--which ultimately leads me to say: I just want to erase you.

In doing this, my ego derives its identity in its opposition to another group, and the only solution is obliteration of the other--a goal that may never be possible since I need them for my own identity.

If I go through my life telling myself I am tolerant, except for groups that are hard lined fundamentalists, then am I not doing something very similar? How do I witness the one human family if I choose to ignore or metaphorically eradicate people who are difficult for me?

My intolerance to what I perceive as their intolerance is not good enough.

Jesus pointed out that even sinners love their own friends. How we relate to those we consider "enemy" is pivotal to the Christian witness. The paradox is that those we consider our "enemy" are actually much closer to us that we ever care to imagine. The very fact that they trigger us so strongly demonstrates how personal and visceral their resonance with us actually is.

The surprise that comes is that in order to accept others as they are, I must also accept myself as I am--the two go hand in hand. My intolerance of them might be a signpost of an intolerance I have of myself.

Even these people? Even the Southern Baptists? Are they not the ones who are doing all sorts of things I do not like or support?

Yes, even them. Especially them--especially the group you do not want to be in relationship with, that is who you have to reach out to.

***

It is probably no surprise that contemplative religious monks who are sometimes the ones most drawn to ecumenical and interfaith work. It forces you into an encounter with yourself. It provides the raw material for meditation. Encountering someone different, especially someone who makes you uncomfortable, puts you face-to-face with your own jagged edges.

Contemplatives are invested in finding and overcoming unhealthy attachments, to use a Buddhist word. Coming face-to-face with someone who is different gives you an opportunity to work on yourself. Contemplatives take a proactive stance toward their own fears and often go right toward them.

I have read some Southern Baptist blogs. A number of folks are very sympathetic to Catholics and are very willing to work on common areas. There is also a strong, more old school Baptist mindset of people who are very anti-Catholic and not shy about expressing it. It can be hard to read some of that. My first impulse is to want to write back and engage in a debate. That can be a worthwhile thing to do. But for the sake of my own growth, I sometimes hold back and first try to understand.  Instead of that knee jerk defensive response, I cultivate patience and simply accept--accept the situation, accept what is, accept myself in my triggered state and accept the other people.

The reply may still come--but it may come from a gentler, more humbler plateau, a more informed place, a more self-reflective place, rather than a knee-jerk reaction, and is that not just a healthier way to be in relationship with anybody, including a relationship with myself? It's Newtonian--actions cause reactions, angers leads to anger, and violence continues in an unbroken chain throughout the eons--that is, until grace comes in. Letting my triggers constantly manipulate me is a less happy, less empowered place to be. Always reacting and responding from the place of my own triggers makes me feel like I am dangling on an existential fishing line--but I am the only one holding the rod and reel and I can claim the power to change my reaction.

The presence of these knee-jerk triggers then begins to look different. Instead of something to fight back and immediately oppose, they are a beacon on the road map of my own personal growth and self-awareness. Their presence shows me where my unfinished internal work is.

***

The funny thing you find out when you get in relationship with someone is that they are not as one-dimensional as you may have thought--or even wanted. It would be so much easier to put them all in a box with a single label. However, there are always more than small nuances of difference. Despite the best attempts by SBC President Ronnie Floyd to set the tone of this year's Southern Baptist Convention with themes of "clear agreement, visible union and extraordinary prayer," no group is quite that monolithic. There is a spectrum of ideas and a spectrum of people.

It might have been easy for me to write off a group of people as just one thing, only to find out that there are many tones and timbres present. Everyone has a story to tell. It is so tempting to reduce them to just the religious right or just narrow or just intolerant, but I run a huge risk of being guilty of that same thing by rushing to these conclusions.

I need to discover their humanity in all its depth and nuance--and that requires discovering my own and then responding to them from that place.

Getting together sometimes means resolving differences. First and foremost, it means working on our own selves to be okay with difference--why am I uncomfortable around you? That is my problem and I should not make it your problem.

It is when you are intolerant of intolerance you may be called and driven to be a prophetic voice and say this is not right, something has to change. There is no question about that. You may have to do that as a person of conscience. But you have got to be in relationship with that person and that group. You have got to be self-reflective. And in doing that, the person who changes--first and foremost--is you.

The civility we need will not come from watching our tongues.
It will come from valuing our differences.
-- Parker J. Palmer

Merton's Vision: Transfiguration, Transformation and Transcendence

On a very unassuming street corner in Louisville, KY, just cattycorner-and-a-step behind the Catholic cathedral, Trappist monk Thomas Merton had a life changing revelation in 1958.  He suddenly saw the interconnectedness of all people, clearly, as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes.  The echoes and implications of that revelation continued to reverberate throughout the remainder of his life and in his writings.

Transfiguration: Not Cheap Grace

Thomas Merton's deep awareness of the interconnectedness of all people may be dismissed as flowery, at first glance.  I can imagine people mocking it like some kind of sentimental hippie love in, with strangers holding hands and singing kumbaya. 

It can come across as cheap grace for people to claim an instant bond of togetherness.  It seems to deny the messiness of life and the need to work hard building relationships and fostering commitment through trust.  It is like walking up to a total stranger and proclaiming love to them.  There is a kind of truth in that--an appreciation and respect for all people and a nod toward an ultimate bond we all share--but it also does not meet most definitions of love which require personal investment over time and self-sacrifice.  No matter how wonderful a vision, something is always missing without a deeper relationship.

But that is exactly why Merton's continual efforts at social justice and interfaith dialogue were so necessary.

Transformation:  Come Down From That Mountain!

Like the disciples Peter and John during the Transfiguration, Merton had a mystical experience.  This fleeting glimpse into Truth--what Christians call the Kingdom of God--can be profoundly uplifting at first.  It is tempting to want to stay there.  Further, it might even seem like an obligation to stay there.  Once you have a toehold onto something you may describe as the Kingdom--or Nirvana--or peace on earth--or Shalom--why leave that to return to the ugliness you find elsewhere?  Peter wanted to pitch tents at the spot of the Transfiguration (Luke 9:34).  However, Jesus had them all come off the mountain the next day (I owe gratitude to Fr. Ron Atwood of Columbus, OH, for pointing this out to me).

For reasons we may never understand in this lifetime, it is not our job to "live" there.  Christianity is about Incarnation--putting flesh and bones onto what we experience as spiritual.  We intuitively know there is a gap between heaven and earth--Christians call it the "fall."  We get glimpses into heaven, and then it is up to us to go back into the messiness of the world, compelled by the flickering memory of that vision, and engage in the ongoing work of bridging heaven and earth, God willing.  We are instruments of Christ in this profound work of cosmic reconciliation.

While Merton's experience may have been unusually profound, a mystical vision is not altogether uncommon.  People get glimpses into the Kingdom all the time--perhaps on retreat, doing service work or in a worship service. 

My life was profoundly changed at age 18 the first time I participated in a week-long service immersion experience at Nazareth Farm, WV.  The prayer, community, simplicity, service and solidarity I experienced that week--all holistically integrated--forever left me changed.  It was like I recognized from some deep place that this was everything I had always wanted.  It felt oddly familiar, although I had never previously considered it and had no idea I was even looking for it.  Yet, it was all right there to taste, touch and see.  I have spent the rest of my life attempting to live into the truths I experienced that week. That initial experience propelled me on a trajectory that has not subsided in the 22 years since.  While there are times I feel distant from it, looking back I see its presence strong and true. 

Why the Raincoat?

The Kingdom is both "now" and also "not yet," as Jesus described throughout the Gospels.  Yes--we are all interconnected with all people right now, but yes--it is also our job to build relationships, resolve differences, overcome divisions and grow into the future.  In other words, we ought to live like the Kingdom is now--because it is--but we are usually behaving as if it is not yet.  We are like people huddled under make-shift shelters, outfitted with rain gear, goulashes and umbrellas, when in fact the sun is actually shining warm and dry, but we believe instead in the illusion that it is raining and cold. We all look just as ridiculous as that. That is how I interpret Merton's vision.

Burden

A mystical vision can be a burden. It can cause quite a tension as we are forced to sit with the contrast between this vision of the ideal and the imperfect reality of this world.  No matter how joyful, it can quickly become sobering as it settles into the yoke of responsibility.  This is how a mystical vision in 1958 eventually brought Merton to immerse himself in (among many other things) the civil rights movement, the anti-war movement and an interfaith journey with Zen Buddhism (the latter I will explore briefly below). 

It is like being the only person to witness a crime or injustice.  Like it or not, fair or otherwise, it burdens you with a tremendous responsibility to tell other people.  Based on where they are in their own journey, they may not be able to understand or even hear you, but that does not absolve you of the responsibility to give witness to it in word and deed.  You cannot make them hear, but you ought to make yourself talk. Ultimately, you would not want to do otherwise, and the joy that accompanies it may more than compensate for the struggle, but it can be difficult waking from this slumber and crawling out of bed the first time. Transformation often involves the welcome relief of shedding a skin that no longer fits your new worldview, but it can come with growing pains in the process.

Merton has long stressed the relationship between contemplation and action--that is to say, the interplay between one's prayer and devotional life with the outward actions in lifestyle and involvement in society.  In the case of this post, his devotional life led him to a moment of profound insight, and that insight then drove his outward actions from that point on. He spent the rest of his life working for the unity on earth that he experiences in his spiritual revelation.

Transcendence

Seeing the interconnectedness of all people suggests that we should do a serious evaluation of all the boundaries between people--perceived or otherwise.  It calls us to engage those boundaries.  Are they healthy boundaries creating space to allow distinct traits to shine, or are they attempting to divide what God has not intended to be divided?  Are they real or illusionary? 

This includes both exterior and interior boundaries.  Not only do those boundaries have to be encountered, but more importantly, the people behind those boundaries need to be encountered--for our sake as well as theirs.  This includes finding our own self behind our interior walls--and then finding ourselves also within others, and so on and so forth. 

This path may call us to ultimately transcend all boundaries on the path to the Kingdom, even what seems like the limits of our own faith tradition.  In this light, the interfaith path starts looking like a requirement--not just something that scholars and mystics do out of curiosity but rather something we may all be called to engage in as part of our faith journey, not as something extracurricular.  This is as if to say that the only way to live out Christianity is to transcend Christianity.  This may sound sacrilegious at first, but the testimony of spiritual masters of the faith like Thomas Merton shows that the Christian life is not as linear as we might think.  The Way of Jesus is a path marked by paradox.

The certainty that can come from religious conviction runs the risk of actually distracting us from the romance and drama--and even the core reality--of faith itself:  "Faith means doubt, and any person of faith who has never had doubt is not a person of faith.," said Morgan Aktinson at the Festival of Faiths in May, paraphrasing Thomas Merton.  There is always the risk of making a false idol out of our convictions.  Convictions may come, but faith always comes first.

Perhaps in this way Merton was aware of a deeper rhythm in the Judeo-Christian experience that goes beyond the rules and regulations of Church membership:  Jesus said he was fulfilling Jewish Law when it looked like he was breaking it.  Jesus kept including people who--through individual bias or societal infrastructure--had previously been excluded.  Jesus said to look to the lost to find ourselves.  Jesus ultimately demonstrated Resurrection through death.  Perhaps likewise, Merton found a connection to the world when it looked like he was isolating himself within a monastery.  Merton kept finding Christianity by encountering its boundaries.  The contemplative path suggests that we may all find ourselves by leaving behind what we thought was ourselves--leaving our false self to find the true. If nothing else, this exploration gives us an outside perspective.

It might be easy to guess that someone like Thomas Merton, who was so invested in interfaith exploration, would have a kind of mixed identity.  Perhaps he divided his attention between a couple of traditions and ended up only at intermediate levels of each.  Perhaps he had a watered down version of the faith.

The evidence points to the contrary, however.  The great interfaith pioneers, such as Thomas Merton, are masters and teachers in their own traditions.  It is not in spite of that, but rather because of that foundation that allows them to recognize the good in other traditions and to find that good reflected back within themselves. Merton's interfaith exploration could be seen as the result of full immersion in his tradition, rather than some kind of detour.

Benedictine monk Br. David Steindl-Rast (pictured at left, appearing via video at the Festival of Faiths) described it this way:  "Going so deeply into our own tradition that we reach the point where all traditions originate."  He described a conversation he had with Thomas Merton where the latter said, "I could not understand our Christian faith the way I do if it wasn't in light of Buddhism." 

Putting these two quotes together:  A person cannot reach this level of insight without being a master of her or his own tradition--and a person cannot become a master of her or his own tradition without exploring beyond where its reaches seem to be.  This is not cheap grace or a simple COEXIST bumper sticker, nice as those may be.  This is a conclusion gained after many years of rigorous spiritual exploration down a given path along with the bravery of taking seriously what someone outside the tradition has to offer.

Thomas Merton ultimately did not leave Catholicism but through his engagement with Zen Buddhism became a stronger Catholic.  The boundary between the two traditions was not so much broken, erased or watered down, but rather boundary itself was overcome.  He did not attempt to remove that which was distinct about either Zen Buddhism or Catholicism.  Rather, it was through that very diversity--not in spite of it--that he found the connection that ended up being a key to a locked part of himself.

The goal of reconciliation is not to erode or erase all distinctiveness to create a homogenous end product.  Rather, it is about not letting a boundary be an obstruction to seeing that it is the very distinctiveness of the other which reflects a truth back to us about ourselves.  "This is not simply dignity in difference, there is divinity in difference," said Rev. Willie D. Francois, II, in my previous post.

From Transfiguration to Transformation to Transcendence

Thomas Merton's life demonstrates so well the interplay between contemplation and action.

Merton got a glimpse behind the veil and saw that the Kingdom is right here and now.  He could also see the boundaries--real or otherwise--that get in the way of us realizing the Kingdom.  These boundaries include, but are certainly not limited to, racism, militarism, religious intolerance, and all manner walls between our own self and others.  That vision compelled him to transform his life on the path to transcending those boundaries.

*************

“In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness… This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud… I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now I realize what we all are. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun.”
-- Thomas Merton, from Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander

*************

This post is part of a series on the Festival of Faiths in Louisville, KY.  Other posts include:

Part 1:  Interfaith is a Verb
Part 2:  The Journey Out is a Journey In
Part 3:  All Others