This Gospel actually sounds like good news, so it will turn some people off immediately! And that’s okay.
Big Ideas:
+ Trust is closer to what we mean by faith; trustworthy is more like what we mean by faithful
+ Jesus, the Christ, became the ultimate/final/last scapegoat so we could finally stop scapegoating ourselves and others once and for all. He forgave even those who caused the ultimate kind of suffering and humiliation, so what business do we have judging others or harboring unforgiveness? He forgave even those who didn’t believe in him (who had unbelief so strong they crucified him). As he cried out “why have you forsaken me?”, so too will those who feel abandoned by God be resurrected
+ 4 main worldviews
- Material: there is only physical matter (scarcity mentality)
- Spiritual: there is only spirit (physical matter is an illusion; reality is disembodied)
- Priestly: matter and spirit need to be united (the domain of organized religion)
- Incarnational: matter and spirit are already united (we can awaken to the fact that matter and spirit have never been separate)
Potent Quotables:
When the Western church separated from the East in the Great Schism of 1054, we gradually lost this profound understanding of how God has been liberating and loving all that is. Instead, we gradually limited the Divine Presence to the single body of Jesus, when perhaps it is as ubiquitous as light itself—and uncircumscribable by human boundaries.
Remember, light is not so much what you directly see as that by which you see everything else. This is why in John’s Gospel, Jesus Christ makes the almost boastful statement “I am the Light of the world” (John 8:12). Jesus Christ is the amalgam of matter and spirit put together in one place, so we ourselves can put it together.
Numerous Scriptures make it very clear that this Christ has existed “from the beginning” (John 1:1–18, Colossians 1:15–20, and Ephesians 1:3–14 being primary sources), so the Christ cannot be coterminous with Jesus. But by attaching the word “Christ” to Jesus as if it were his last name, instead of a means by which God’s presence has enchanted all matter throughout all of history, Christians got pretty sloppy in their thinking. Our faith became a competitive theology with various parochial theories of salvation, instead of a universal cosmology inside of which all can live with an inherent dignity.
God loves things by becoming them... God did so in the creation of the universe and of Jesus, and continues to do so in the ongoing human Body of Christ.
Unfortunately, the notion of faith that emerged in the West was much more a rational assent to the truth of certain mental beliefs, rather than a calm and hopeful trust that God is inherent in all things, and that this whole thing is going somewhere good. Predictably, we soon separated intellectual belief (which tends to differentiate and limit) from love and hope (which unite and thus eternalize).
[Jesus] did ask us several times to follow him, and never once to worship him.
The point of the Christian life is not to distinguish oneself from the ungodly, but to stand in radical solidarity with everyone and everything else.
Without a Shared and Big Story, we all retreat into private individualism for a bit of sanity and safety.
Any kind of authentic God experience will usually feel like love or suffering, or both.
The proof that you are a Christian is that you can see Christ everywhere else.
Dignity is not doled out to the worthy. It grounds the inherent worthiness of things in their very nature and existence.
We all know positive flow when we see it, and we all know resistance and coldness when we feel it. All the rest are mere labels.
Farmers, forestry workers, and Native peoples know that fire is a renewing force, even as it also can be destructive. We in the West tend to see it as merely destructive (which is probably why we did not understand the metaphors of hell).
As St. Augustine said, we must feed the body of Christ to the people of God until they know that they are what they eat! And they are what they drink!
The Franciscans, ... led by John Duns Scotus (1266–1308), refused to see the Incarnation, and its final denouement on the cross, as a mere reaction to sin. Instead, they claimed that the cross was a freely chosen revelation of Total Love on God’s part. In so doing, they reversed the engines of almost all world religion up to that point, which assumed we had to spill blood to get to a distant and demanding God. On the cross, the Franciscan school believed, God was “spilling blood” to reach out to us! This is a sea change in consciousness. The cross, instead of being a transaction, was seen as a dramatic demonstration of God’s outpouring love, meant to utterly shock the heart and turn it back toward trust and love of the Creator.
Love cannot be bought by some “necessary sacrifice”; if it could, it would not and could not work its transformative effects. Try loving your spouse or children that way, and see where it gets you… If forgiveness needs to be bought or paid for, then it is not authentic forgiveness at all, which must be a free letting-go.
Jesus demonstrated that Reality is not meaningless and absurd, even if it isn’t always perfectly logical or consistent. Reality, we know, is always filled with contradictions.
The image of the scapegoat powerfully mirrors and reveals the universal, but largely unconscious, human need to transfer our guilt onto something (or someone) else by singling that other out for unmerited negative treatment.
He did not come to change God’s mind about us. It did not need changing. Jesus came to change our minds about God—and about ourselves—and about where goodness and evil really lie.
The cross, then, is a very dramatic image of what it takes to be usable for God. It does not mean you are going to heaven and others are not; rather, it means you have entered into heaven much earlier and thus can see things in a transcendent, whole, and healing way now.
If we do not recognize that we ourselves are the problem, we will continue to make God the scapegoat—which is exactly what we did by the killing of the God-Man on the cross. The crucifixion of Jesus—whom we see as the Son of God—was a devastating prophecy that humans would sooner kill God than change themselves.
Jesus became the victim so we could stop victimizing others or playing the victim ourselves.
You alone, Christ Jesus, refuse to be a crucifier, even at the cost of being crucified.
The only way out of deep sadness is to go with it and through it.
If creation is “very good” (Genesis 1:34) at its very inception, how could such a divine agenda ever be undone by any human failure to fully cooperate? “Very good” sets us on a trajectory toward resurrection.
In the undisputed seven original letters of Paul, he does not speak of personal forgiveness as much as of God’s blanket forgiveness of all sin and evil. Sin, salvation, and forgiveness are always corporate, social, and historical concepts for the Jewish prophets and for Paul. When you recognize this, it changes your entire reading of the Gospels.
Paul intended that his new people “live in the church,” as it were—and from that solid base go out to the world. We still have it all backward, living fully in the worldly systems and occasionally going to church.
Remember, it is not the brand name that matters. It is that God’s heart be made available and active on this earth.
I do encounter Christians who are living their values almost every day, and more and more are just doing it (“orthopraxy”), without all the hype about how right they are (“orthodoxy”). Training instead of teaching, as today’s coaches often put it.
The binary mind, so good for rational thinking, finds itself totally out of its league in dealing with things like love, death, suffering, infinity, God, sexuality, or mystery in general. It just keeps limiting reality to two alternatives and thinks it is smart because it chooses one!
The binary mind provides quick security and false comfort, but never wisdom. It thinks it is smart because it counters your idea with an opposing idea. There is usually not much room for a “reconciling third.”
What many have begun to see is that you need to have a nondualistic, non-angry, and nonargumentative mind to process the really big issues with any depth or honesty, and most of us have not been effectively taught how to do that in practice. We were largely taught what to believe instead of how to believe.
It seems to take a minimum of a year to get back to “normal” after the loss of anyone you were deeply bonded to, and many times you never get back to “normal.” You are reconfigured forever. Often this is the first birth of compassion, patience, and even love, as the heart is softened and tenderized through sadness, depression, and grief. These are privileged portals into depth and truth.
I am convinced that in many ways Buddhism and Christianity shadow each other. They reveal each other’s blind spots. In general, Western Christians have not done contemplation very well, and Buddhism has not done action very well.
We became a formal and efficient religion that felt that its job was to tell people what to see instead of how to see. It sort of worked for a while, but it no longer does.
Experience, Scripture, and Tradition… must be allowed to regulate and balance one another… Up to now, Catholics and Orthodox have used Tradition in both good and bad ways, Protestants used Scripture in both good and bad ways, and neither of us handled experience very well at all.
Mostly, we must remember that Christianity in its maturity is supremely love-centered, not information- or knowledge-centered,
Ken Wilber’s distinction between “climbing religions” and “descending religions” is helpful here. He and I both trust the descending form of religion much more, and I think Jesus did too. Here the primary language is unlearning, letting go, surrendering, serving others, and not the language of self development—which often lurks behind our popular notions of “salvation.”
All of us travelers, each in our own way, have to eventually learn about letting go of something smaller so something bigger can happen. But that’s not a religion—it’s highly visible truth. It is the Way Reality Works… The way things work and Christ are one and the same. This is not a religion to be either fervently joined or angrily rejected. It is a train ride already in motion. The tracks are visible everywhere. You can be a willing and happy traveler, or not.
Telling is not training.
Practice is looking out from yourself; analysis is looking back at yourself as if you were an object. You may learn something intellectually through analysis, but in doing so, you might actually create a disconnect from your deeper inner experience. Until you know what your own flow feels like, you do not even know that there is such a thing.
You do not have to see the sun to know that it is still shining.
If my underlying thesis in this book is true and Christ is a word for the Big Story Line of history, then the incarnational worldview held maturely is precisely the Good News! You do not need to name this universal manifestation “Christ,” however, to fully live inside of it and enjoy its immense fruits.