Tag: christianity

The Reluctant Messiah

Podcast: Episode 3: The Reluctant Messiah

In this episode we explore the notion of Jesus as Messiah. Even though the gospel writers portrayed him in this way, we explore some of the reasons Jesus himself might have rejected the role.

“Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself” (John 6:15).

He would have known that every self-proclaimed messiah had met the same tragic fate. Recalling that Jesus was a Jew, we look at the differences between Jewish and Christian concepts of the Messiah. Modern scholars know that the Christian Messiah was pieced together from various Old Testament passages those early followers of the Jesus movement insisted supported their belief.

Many sayings attributed to him suggest that Jesus was not the typical apocalyptic prophet but a Jewish mystic, a teacher whose ministry was dedicated to the mission of helping “break every yoke” and lift open-minded members of his peasant class from the drudgery of daily life. He introduced his audience to a new, spiritually empowering way of thinking of the kingdom of God as an underlying, ever-present reality, whose point of contact was centered in every individual. Because the region in which Jesus was raised was Hellenized—imposed Greek culture, language, and philosophy—it is not inconceivable that his understanding of the kingdom of God was influenced by Plato’s Theory of Forms. This major paradigm shift required a new birth, a new way of seeing and thinking of themselves and their relationship of oneness with God. This mission he drew from Isiah, which, according to Luke, he read at the outset of his public ministry.

“Is not this the fast that I choose:
    to loose the bonds of wickedness,
    to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
    and to break every yoke?” (Isiah 58:6)

Is Jesus God?

YouTube: Is Jesus God?

The debate about the nature of Jesus, whether he was a man or God, has been ongoing for centuries. It can be traced back to the early days of Christianity, with different interpretations and understandings emerging. In the first few centuries after Jesus’ death, various theological perspectives arose, leading to intense debates among scholars, theologians, and religious leaders. The Council of Nicaea in 325 AD played a crucial role in clarifying the divinity of Jesus, affirming the belief in his full humanity and full divinity. However, the debate continued to evolve and resurface in different forms throughout history. Different Christian denominations and theological schools of thought have approached this question differently, resulting in ongoing discussions and disagreements. Today, the debate about the nature of Jesus as both man and God remains a significant topic of theological exploration and interpretation.

To the mystic, the question is a no brainer. Jesus, like all human beings, is an expression of God. When we visit the ocean and see a tidepool, we do not wonder if the tidepool is the ocean. It exists because of the ocean. And the same water that is in the tidepool is also in the ocean. When the tide rises, the pool and the ocean are one. The human being, including Jesus, is like the tidepool. Our life essence is God, but we are not all there is of God. We are expressions of God.

The people of Jesus’ day, like people today, see God as separate from humanity. But in truth, we are all one with God. Our physicality, like the defined tidepool, gives us the impression that we are separate from God. We are taught this from childhood, and we are taught that Jesus is a human unlike any other. This is unfortunate. If we see the tide come in over one hundred tidepools, all equally merge with the ocean.

The breakdown of this analogy is the physical boundary that defines the pool. In our case, the boundary is perceptual. The ocean of God perpetually mingles with our soul. All people possess the same spiritual architecture as Jesus. We are all human and we are all divine. The difference is in our degree of knowing. Most define themselves only as a tidepool. Some realize they exist because there is an ocean as the source of their being. Jesus was a man who taught our oneness with  God.

The Whispering Messiah

YouTube: The Whispering Messiah

I believe Jesus intentionally distanced himself from any association with the expected Messiah. Making any claim to that title would put him in a position that did not represent the message he believed he was born to teach. The expected Messiah would usher in an external kingdom of God that would change the religious, social, and political landscape. The kingdom he spoke of was an inner awakening to the presence of God.

Why would I refer to Jesus as the whispering Messiah? With literally millions of followers around the world, he appears to have done much more than whisper. Appearances, however, can be deceiving. Biblical scholar Bart Ehrman believes Jesus had about twenty followers in his core organization. Considering he focused most of his ministry on the tiny villages that dotted the countryside, the impression we’re given by the Gospel writers of thousands following is, no doubt, an extreme exaggeration.  

The idea of the whispering Messiah comes from my belief that the true teachings of Jesus were misunderstood. Through decades of oral tradition passed down to the authors of the Gospels, the message changed from an inner awakening to an external expectation of the dawning of a new age. Though fragments of the teachings of the Jewish mystic survive, the loudest voice of the Gospels is that of the evangelists who wrote the books. Theirs is the message that caught the fire that roared over the world. So, we have to learn to listen for that whisper of a voice.

The God of which Jesus spoke is not the wholly other that exists beyond the comprehension of the average person. God is Spirit. To worship in spirit is to go within and feel our way to the inner sanctuary, our very own holy of holies. It is as if we stand on the beach with the surf washing over our feet. We lift our eyes to behold the vast ocean in which we stand. This place on the beach is ours, and ours alone, yet the ocean belongs to us all, and we belong to it.

Nothing from the heavens is coming to change the world. The whispering Messiah, that still small voice within us, prompts us to lift our vision and see the vastness of this ocean of spirit in which we live and move and have our being.

Quest For the Lost Sheep

YouTube: Quest for The Lost Sheep

He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Matthew 15:24

This passage has always intrigued me, but only recently has it taken on special meaning. Who were these lost sheep? From what I now gather, they were Jews who did not choose to live under the restrictions imposed by the 613 commandments found in the Torah.[1] While the religious system deemed them as sinners, today we might see them as the type who had exposure to the mainstream but, like many of us, prefer to define the conditions of their own spiritual inquiry.   

The concept of the kingdom of God within was a complete reversal to the teaching that God and man are separate. Jesus would naturally seek an audience who was open-minded enough to explore new ideas, and these so-called lost sheep of Israel perfectly fit the bill. For them, his commonsense approach was probably a refreshing change. “And they were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as the scribes” (Mark 1:22). For me, this also throws a different light on his parable of the lost sheep, where the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to find the one. It’s probably fair to assume that 1% of the Jewish population was open to his radical new way of thinking about the individual’s relationship of oneness with God.

Jesus challenged the system by ignoring several rules concerning the Sabbath. Yet he said he did not come to break the law but to fulfill it. Think of it this way: a stop sign tells you to stop. If you run the stop sign, you break the law. If you stop, look both ways, then proceed, you fulfill the law. You do not take the sign literally and stop indefinitely.

Just as the higher purpose of the stop sign is to ensure safety, Jesus looked beyond the letter of the law to its higher purpose of spiritual freedom. “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27). “Which of you, having a son or an ox that has fallen into a well, will not immediately pull him out on a sabbath day?” (Luke 14:5). A good teacher knows his audience. The lost sheep of Israel finally found their shepherd.

[1] 1st 5 books of the Old Testament

Forbidden Fruit

YouTube: Forbidden Fruit

Religious tradition tells us that our struggle with sin began with the first couple, Adam and Eve. Despite being explicitly told not to eat the fruit of a certain tree, Adam and Eve still did it, leaving the rest of us to struggle with the consequences. Though people often portray this forbidden fruit as an apple, Genesis names it as “… the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Gen 2:17).  

This ancient writer is not talking about gardens, trees, or any of the fruit we might find in a bowl on the dining room table. He’s answering this question: Why is life such a struggle? His answer is this: Life is a struggle because, from the beginning, man has disobeyed the commandments of God.

In Unity, we affirm that there is only one Presence and one power in the universe, God, the good, omnipotent. It is the belief in two powers—good and evil—that establishes the basis for struggle and gets us kicked out of the garden, so to speak. In traditional belief, people depict this dualism as God and Satan, attributing distinct origins to both powers. At the beginning of its account of creation, Genesis mentions light and darkness, but names only light as good. John echoes this when he writes, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).

The belief in two powers can take many forms. In the traditional religious context, people consider sin as a power that can condemn the soul to hell. In our alternative approaches to spirituality, negative thinking and the soul that is not spiritually awakened become a destructive power. It matters little how we characterize evil as a power. The consequence of embracing it manifests itself as some form of struggle.   

The importance of this entire issue comes down to how we characterize God and the possibility of a competing power. Though the subtle serpent continuously tempts us with the assurance that there are no consequences of believing in two powers, we should understand that this belief is the basis of all fear and serves as the source of most of our struggles in life.

Jesus The Rabbi

YouTube: Jesus the Rabbi

I believe Jesus envisioned a time when religious authorities would shift from being protectors against the consequences of sin to become instructors devoted to opening the doors to the inner kingdom. As a scholar and teacher, this is the intended role of a rabbi.

A religion that is focused on saving people from sin is based on the need to protect a weakness. Here, the weakness is a distorted understanding of the true nature of God, the individual, and their inseparable oneness with God. Essentially, it is a belief in two powers—good and evil.

An educationally focused religious system will dedicate itself to developing strength. It acknowledges that God is the only power, and oneness with God is the ultimate truth. Translating this understanding into practical applications that have a positive impact on everyday life is the goal. This type of system explains the existence of evil, not as a power, but as a blockage of light, a misperception of the true nature of underlying reality. Instead of addressing the shadow, it seeks to bring light to the blockage that causes it. For instance, the practice of denial is not simply saying, “There is no shadow.” We acknowledge the shadow, but we see it as the effect of something that is obstructing the light. Denial is a deliberate act of withholding the power we give to this obstruction.

When people addressed Jesus as a rabbi, they acknowledged him as a scholar and teacher who had a unique grasp on the letter of Mosaic law. His special talent, however, lay in his capacity to shed light on the unity between man and God, and the transformative power this awareness brings to one’s life.

While religious tradition has always devoted itself to convincing people it could protect them from the consequence of their named list of sins, Jesus devoted his ministry to saving them from the greatest sin of all—spiritual ignorance. He pointed out that it is not the type of food that goes into the mouth that corrupts, but the words and actions that stem from a corrupt understanding of one’s relationship to God. Teaching this truth, I believe, was the sole purpose of his ministry.

I believe Jesus envisioned a time when religious authorities would shift from being protectors against the consequences of sin to become instructors devoted to opening the doors to the inner kingdom. As a scholar and teacher, this is the intended role of a rabbi.

A religion focused on saving people from sin is based on the need to protect a weakness. Here, the weakness is a distorted understanding of the true nature of God, the individual, and their inseparable oneness with God. Essentially, it is a belief in two powers—good and evil. I hope you can join us in Sunday’s exploration of Jesus The Rabbi, whose revolutionary approach went beyond teaching religious rules to teaching spiritual principles that could change lives. 

The Natural Prayer

YouTube: The Natural Prayer

During my talk last Sunday, I discussed the topic of prayer and its perceived failures. After the service, a friend raised an interesting question regarding the purpose of prayer altogether. Raising such a question can help us reach a better understanding of prayer. If we treat it simply as a formula intended to invoke spiritual forces that we hope will influence outcomes in our favor, we miss the fuller scope of our involvement. We are, in fact, constantly in a state of what we might call a natural prayer, with our overall mindset as the primary influence. While we may use the tools of affirmations and denials to bring about change, it is ultimately our state of mind that determines the course and overall condition of our life.

The two main faculties we employ in natural prayer are faith and imagination. Here, faith is synonymous with expectation. The influence of expectation runs in our mind like a background program on our computer. It’s always working, but we don’t see it. What we see at the mental and emotional level are the images our faith generates through the faculty of imagination.

In his novel, The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho makes this observation:

“When each day is the same as the next, it’s because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises.”

This attitude is the mindset that we want to pay attention to. When we expect each day to be the same as the next, we are training the creative power of our imagination to match our level of expectation. All things considered; this may seem reasonable. And, if we are content with the monotony of each day being the same as the next, why bother investing effort in fixing something that isn’t broken? If we are restless and dissatisfied with our life, it will be advantageous to recognize the good things that present themselves and raise our expectation and appreciation for these gifts that each new day brings.

Natural prayer does not center on a single aspect but encompasses our overall quality of life. It directs our awareness to each present moment, every individual we encounter, and any circumstance that calls for a creative resolution. We naturally raise our own expectations and the imaginative visions that these inspire.

When Prayer Fails

YouTube: When Prayer Fails

Most of us can recall times when we prayed for something, and our desired answer came about quickly and in a way that worked out well for everyone involved. Other times, it seems our prayer goes unanswered. Are we doing it right sometimes, and wrong others? Or is there some other reason our answers are not consistent?

You may remember Jesus in Gethsemane, where he prayed three times for a different outcome, to no avail. James says our prayers go unanswered because we pray amiss. As a teacher of the art of affirmative prayer, it would not seem likely that Jesus prayed amiss.

The Gospel accounts tell us that Jesus’ prayer went unanswered because God had bigger plans for him. Does this mean God wants me to endure this pain because there is a bigger plan? Is this financial setback thrust upon me to force me to open my eyes to greater possibilities? Did this relationship crumble because God doesn’t want me to be with that person?

The most productive response we can have to apparently failed prayer is to take a hard look at how we think prayer works. Are we attempting to get God to act, or are we doing everything possible to align our thoughts, our expectations, and our actions with the outcome we desire? There is no single answer to this question. However, if you believe in the power of prayer, you will take it upon yourself to find your answer. If you’ve had no success implementing all the prayer techniques given to you through books and teachers, then it may be time to let go of these and embark on your own quest to understand this important practice. Jesus had his character sell all his possessions to buy the treasure-bearing field. We know what others teach about prayer. What do we say it is, and how do we successfully employ it in our situation?

The way is not always apparent, but this does not mean that the answer we seek is unavailable. Ask, seek, knock until the door opens. If you say I did these things and still nothing, then ask, seek, and knock again, and as many times as it takes to see the door open. Either you believe your answer is possible, or you do not. If you believe it is possible, then stay with it until it becomes your reality.

What if God was One of Us?

YouTube: What if God Was One of Us?

To the Jewish mind of Jesus’ day, claiming oneness with God was a crime punishable by stoning. That the foundation of his message was oneness with God probably contributed to his conviction in the Jewish court.

With her 90s hit song, “One of Us,” Joan Osborne met with similar resistance from mainstream Christian groups. While the song takes a rather anthropomorphic view of God, it has the effect of bringing the abstract notion of God into the human experience. This is what we want to do. Many people picture God as having an existence somewhere in a distant realm. We want to think of God as the creative life force, the vital essence of every living thing. Most importantly, we want to think of God as centered at the core of our being.

If God was one of us, that would again put us in a place of separation. If God becomes a stranger on the bus, and I’m not on that bus, then I’m here and God is not. However, the purpose of engaging in such reflections is not to run aground in problems with literal interpretations. I consider the idea of God being present in my life at this moment, actively involved right on my level. How would I think of my life if this were true?

One near-death experiencer said he met a being of light whose telepathically transmitted voice he instantly recognized as the intuitive voice he’d heard all his life. What if we acknowledged the countless ways through which we are connected to God’s guidance and inspiration? Might we not pay a little closer attention to that stranger on the bus? This thought is a powerful point of contemplation: I am in God, and the full light of God shines through me and through all people and things in my life.

I did not ride with strangers on a bus this week, but I sat with some in a waiting room at the Social Security office. It occurred to me that each one had a unique story to tell, a journey that had brought them to that moment. As I waited for my number to be called, I thought how interesting it would be to have everyone share their story. While I refrained from suggesting this idea to the group, I silently offered each person a blessing, wishing them peace and success in their ongoing journeys. I will never know if this simple prayer had any impact. What I know is that the exercise prompted me to ponder a different question: What if God was all of us?

From Religion to Spirituality

YouTube: From Religion to Spirituality, The Quest for Spiritual Authenticity

Nearly all of us who have come into a more direct study of spiritual principles have some type of religious background. For whatever reason, we have stepped from that path and pursued one that is more suitable to our heart’s dictates. Throughout my career, I’ve heard hundreds of stories from people who have stepped away from the “safety” of their traditional background and embarked upon a path that may not be so well received by their former teachers.

What would cause us to do this? I think the answer lies in today’s subtitle. We are looking for spiritual authenticity. While it can be said that the teachings we’ve been given are true to the beliefs of the early church movement, something has prompted us to question whether they reflect what is actually true of Spirit. Jesus criticized the Pharisees with this quote from Isaiah: “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the precepts of men” (Matthew 15:8-9).

It has been pointed out that while all religions reference God, none can encompass God. A religion is a collective perspective intended to guide people safely through this maze of appearances we call life, and assure us the best outcome. All religions are based on the belief in separation. Either we are separate from God, or we are separate from our higher Self. But what happens when we grow past this given that we are separate from God or ourselves? What do we do with the revelation that the kingdom of the Father is spread out over the earth and men do not see it? (Thomas 113).

This is where our need for spiritual authenticity really kicks in. If God is present and centered within me, then how can I know and experience God? If my soul is complete now, how can I live from this completeness? If sin does not damage my relationship with God, how can I come to know this unconditional love in which I live and move and have my being?

I can search scriptures for answers to these questions, but I will not come to know the answers until I experience them for myself. Jesus advised to knock, and the door would be open. He did not go into detail about how this works, probably because he understood that each person’s relationship to God belongs only to them, that it isn’t something we find within the confines of a religious doctrine, but within the quiet center of our own heart.