Radical Grace July – September 2006
Awakened and Astonished — Part I
by Richard Rohr, OFM
The corruption of the best is the worst.
—Latin proverb
These people make a big show of saying the
right thing, but their hearts aren’t in it . . . so
I am going to step in and shock them awake,
astonish them, and stand them on their ears.
—Isaiah 29:14, Eugene Peterson translation
A recent study on altruism is supposed to have
shown that people affiliated with religion are statistically
no less nor more loving than people who call themselves
unbelievers. In fact, they are often more egocentric,
and only a very small percentage is genuinely or heroically
altruistic. If true, this is surely disappointing and humiliating
for religion, although I must say that it largely matches my
own observations. Some of the most naturally generous
people I have ever known have been secularized Jews.
And they don’t even believe in an afterlife system of reward
and punishment! We really have to look at this.
I have often thought that Friedrich Nietzsche and Max
Scheler were at least partially right in what they called
ressentiment. They felt that people could not just be morally
pressured or legally commanded to love and not to hate, or
they would end up in a double bind of simultaneous promotion
and resistance. Hating, after all, gives real focus to our
ego structure, and loving first feels like loss and surrender of
structure. Nietzsche and Scheler felt that believers might love
now and then, but like sullen children, they would often do it
with an underlying resentment for being forced to do it! They
would have one foot on the accelerator of life and another
on the brake, trying to perform and yet deeply resisting being
commanded at the same time. (I think that is exactly what
Paul is trying to point out when he teaches the utter insufficiency
of the “the Law” to liberate us (Romans, chapters 2–
7). Information is not the same as transformation. Compliance
is not the same as conversion, yet they both become
the common substitutes.
I believe there is a deep
dilemma and contradiction
at the heart of institutional
Christianity. Maybe it is
even a necessary one. All
I know is that it can only
be resolved—by authentic
inner experience,
“prayer,” mysticism, or
dare I call it, “spirituality.”
I am convinced that religion,
in its common cultural
and external forms,
largely protects the ego, especially the group ego, instead of
transforming it. If people do not go beyond first level metaphors,
rituals, and comprehension, most religions seem to
end up with a God who is often angry, petulant, needy, jealous,
and who will love us only if we are “worthy” and belonging
to the correct group. We end up with the impossible
scenario of a God who is “small,” and often less loving than
the best people we know! This supposedly divine love is
quite measured and conditional, and yet ironically demands
from us a perfect and unconditional love. Such a salvation
system will never work, unless we allow an utterly new dimension
of love “to astonish us and stand us on our ears,” as
Isaiah says above. Unless God is able and allowed to love
us unconditionally, we will never know how to do the same.
Most people I know would never torture another human
being under any conditions. Yet people believe in a
god who not only tortures, but tortures for all eternity. That
is bitter vengeance by anyone’s definition. Why would anyone
want to be alone with such a testy and temperamental
god? Why would anyone go on the great mystical journey
into divine intimacy with such an unsafe lover? Why would
anyone trust such a god to know how to love those who
really need it? I personally know many people who are
much more generous and imaginative than this god is. We
have ended up being ourselves more loving, or at least trying
to be, than the god we profess to believe! Such a religion
is in deep trouble—at its core.
Most people I know can eventually forgive and forget.
But not our god! God does not forgive until he or she gets
some appropriate penance, reparations, and repayment.
(Actually reaffirmed in common sacramental practice). This
is supposedly needed by one who has nothing better to do
than keep accounts and do a self centered cost analysis on
everything. Sort of like Santa Claus, “making a list and
checking it twice, going to find out who’s naughty or nice.”
The Lord of this beautiful and self renewing cosmos ends
up looking instead like an anal retentive banker or a brooding
maiden aunt. It just doesn’t match the cosmic evidence.
And it particularly does not match the evidence for those
who have prayed—or experienced divine forgiveness.
Most of my Jewish and Christian friends are very tolerant
and accepting of different races, cultures, and religions.
They are willing to see good wherever good is to be seen.
But not our god. Our god only likes “born again” Americans,
and preferably morally successful and “normal”
people, who hopefully attend my denominational service
on the proper day. (This is easily the quickest growing form
of religion in most countries today!). Even stingy little Richard
Rohr ends up being much more caring, patient, generous,
and merciful than Yahweh Sabaoth! How
did we get to such absurdity? Especially, after Jesus spends
most of his ministry affirming those who are wounded, unworthy,
not successful, normal, or properly affiliated?
Perhaps you say, “But religion has always taught me that
God is love!” Yes, religion “says the right words,” but this
god we hear about is never allowed to be loving in the way
that we have experienced it from even our middle range
friends and lovers. I have experienced immense patience,
tolerance, and mercy from many of my friends. They put
up with my failures and idiosyncrasies, and eventually know
that some of my patterns will never even change. They often
accept me as I am, and learn to love me as I am—
which eventually almost indirectly changes me! Every
good parent knows that unmerited love creates love-in-return.
Grace creates gracious people. But not our god!
God, and the history of religion, seem to prefer mandates,
coercion, blame, and shame to achieve some kind of supposed
transformation. This is quite helpful for social order
and control of the immature. I really understand that, but it
is quite clear to me in the later years of my life, that God
does not love me if I change, but God loves me so that I
can change. That is an entirely different agenda.
It often seems that religion’s most common concern is to
find out what God does not like, where God is not present,
and who God does approve for hating and excluding. Perhaps
we are seeking to legitimate our own need to exclude
and hate and dominate? Why else would we like a God
who succeeds by punishing and always dominates? We
have been told in recent years that God does not like homosexuals,
God is not present in mosques and synagogues,
and God is not bothered at all by the direct and collateral
damage of our necessary wars. Abortion killing is the only
killing that is inherently bad because the fetus is “innocent
life.” This “morality” will only work if we can dare to think
of ourselves as innocent! If legal protection and moral response
depends on us being innocent or worthy, “then who
can be saved?” What makes the Good News good news
is precisely that God loves and defends unworthy and
non-innocent life! Otherwise, you and I have little hope.
And we can easily justify capital punishment, torture, euthanasia,
and even pre-emptive wars against the unworthy
ones—which is exactly what we have done. We have become
the small god we worshiped.
I think my central disappointment with much religion is
that it is so stingy in its attitudes, and actually seems to prefer
a stingy god. It loves tribalism and group think. It likes to
convert others more than change itself. Religions are notorious
for excluding, expelling, and excommunicating. It is almost
their job description. We actually fear and condemn
anything that appears to be a call to mercy beyond our boundary
markers. Any universalism (“catholicity”) or inclusivity is
deemed dangerous. It feels like abdication of sacred ground,
for some reason. We always come up with our fear of others,
our fear of contamination, our fear of losing some supposed
great truth that we are protecting and living. What
fragile people religion has often created.
Read Part II of “Awakened and Astonished,” by Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, published in the October/November/December edition
of Radical Grace. The article was first published in its entirety as
“My Problem With Religion” in the March/April 2006 edition of
The Pastoral Review, © The Tablet Publishing Company Limited
ISSN1748-362X, London, England.
Fr. Richard Rohr is a Franciscan of the New Mexico province and
founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque,
NM.
If you enjoyed what you read, please consider joining
the growing community of CAC friends and supporters by making a
financial contribution. In return, you will receive a year’s worth
(four quarterly issues) of Radical Grace. |