[The following is based on Matthew 5:21-37)
I like to follow
the question and answer column of Rabbi Rami Shapiro who writes for
Spirituality and Health magazine. It serves to remind me of the wide variety of
spiritual and religious ideas out there in the world and how traumatized,
fearful and confused people can be about the teachings of Biblical texts. I found this one recently that seemed to fit particularly
well with today’s difficult lesson from Matthew:
Qx from reader: I worry about the afterlife. What is the
best way to get into heaven?
Shapiro’s answer:
Judaism teaches that admission to Heaven depends on your answers to six
questions:
Did you make time to learn?
Did you take care of loved ones?
Did you deal honestly with others?
Did you maintain hope?
Did you partake of all the legitimate pleasures that came
your way?
Were you true to yourself?
Judaism is an
Abrahamic faith with whom Christianity shares many similarities, including the
whole of the Old Testament. These questions are good ones. They help us find a
way in and out of Jesus’ thought provoking teaching that covers the worst of our offenses to one another, tears at the fabric of authentic community, and separates us from the Ground of all Being (Tillich).
One of the concerns that comes up in this reading is the part about divorce.
It is very important that we do not try to apply the conditions of this text in
which Jesus is quoted from 2000 years ago in a world that does not remotely relate to
our own in many ways. Jesus’ world is the Middle East. Think Saudi Arabia
when you read this text on divorce. The Rabbi’s questions that relate to this
situation are: Did you take care of loved ones? Did you deal
honestly with others?
Additionally, it
is helpful when studying difficult biblical passages is to focus the meta-narrative and not try to make each word applicable, in a
literal sense. Jesus is employing metaphors; they are not meant to be taken literally. Otherwise,
each of us would be blind and continually cutting off body parts. Again, think
Saudi Arabia where that still happens as a matter of course. Here the Rabbi's questions are helpful as a guide to put along side this lesser known part of the Sermon on the Mount.
It is also helpful to consider that the text might well begin with an assumption of human goodness. Though it has often been taught the other way around. Christianity is clearly divided on this
issue. One way of saying this is that you either have a high or a low
anthology. You either believe in the goodness of humanity from birth which is
corrupted by the conditions and false teachings of the world or you believe that
humanity is born corrupted and can only be redeemed by faith.
I approach
spiritual matters from the place of a high anthology; maintaining the premise
of the goodness of humanity and the corrupting influence of the world. Let us
be clear; either road leads to the same place - a need for redemption, that is, to have a change of heart. A change of heart begins with an open
and discerning heart, and a healthy sense of curiosity captured in the age-old
spiritual injunction: Know thyself. Commentator John Shea writes: “The ones who
want to know themselves will set up a watching and listening post in the center
of their being.” I don’t know if Rabbi Shapiro meant for the questions he lays
out to be in any particular order but I think it was interesting that he put at
the top: Did you take time to learn? We can flesh that out by adding to the question: Did you take time to learn about yourself?
In this gospel
lesson Jesus’ graphically points out that we all have a shadow side. Everyone.
Some people lead with their shadow and every part of their life is a whirlwind
of chaos. Others fool you into thinking they are nearly angelic. Everyone has a shadow. A healthy spiritual life embraces the shadow and
tempers it with self-love and discipline. In this teaching Jesus seeks not to introduce us to others to whom we may point our
fingers and say, “You are so selfish,” or “You are such a liar,” or “You are so
wicked,” but to reveal to our own selves the capability we have for the same.
We all have a shadow side. When we do not learn to identify and engage our
shadow it will run our lives and corrupt us from the inside. We become
narcissistic and narrow-minded, lacking in compassion. Our shadow does not
think these questions have value and resist the self-reflection they require.
Our shadow prefers the dark and not the light of introspection. Our shadow side
is distracted by shiny objects and does not focus on things of substance for
very long. We know we are controlled by it when we can see only the faults in
others and do not realize that we are looking into a mirror. It is for this
reason that the cultivation of a spiritual practice is essential. A valid
practice would be to ask yourself those simple questions each and every day.
The goal is not to be good as opposed to bad. The goal is to be awake, self-aware, centered, empathetic, and ready to act for the common good.
An excellent
teacher to help us to embrace our shadow and find wholeness and holiness in the
present moment is Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh. Thay, as he is affectionately
known by his students, did not come to his conclusions from a position of naive
privilege. He lived through the Vietnam War and saw immense pain,
violence, suffering and tragedy firsthand…. He went into the countryside, where
the fighting was the worst, and provided support - rebuilding towns, schools,
villages. He risked his own life many times, and many of his close friends and
colleagues were killed. He was exiled in 1968 because of his peace work. Author
Nadia Colburn says that, “At the heart of his teachings is the insight that
peace starts from within.” Christians understand the peace he refers to as The
peace that passes all understanding. In 1978 Thay wrote the poem for which he is
well-known, entitled Please Call Me by My True Names. Here is a portion of it:
I am a mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.
I am a frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin a bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up
and the door of my heart
could be left open,
the door of compassion.
The spiritual
teaching of Thay’s poem helps us to embrace the completeness of our
humanity, the goodness and the shadow that co-exist.
Jesus, the
divine teacher, challenges us with these hard lessons that he preached to the masses on a Galilean hillside. It requires hard questions
that are not asked once and forgotten.
Did you make
time to learn?
Did you take care of loved ones?
Did you deal honestly with others?
Did you maintain hope?
Did you partake of all the legitimate pleasures that came
your way?
Were you true to yourself?
