Jonathan Swift (Gulliver's Travels) once observed: "That the universe was formed by a fortuitous concourse of atoms, I will no more believe than the accidental jumbling of the alphabet would fall into a most ingenious treatise of philosophy." He never heard about the Big Bang theory of how we all began!
Given that, if we were able to prove that no God existed, we would almost certainly not change anything, what if the converse was to happen, and we were able to prove that God existed? What would we do differently?
Thomas Moore, in his excellent book: Writing in the Sand, makes the point that until we have gone through a process of metanoia, a radical shift in our ways of thinking (and living), we will, like Nicodemus, never understand what Jesus meant when he said:"I tell you that no one could see the kingdom of God unless he were born from above." I take this to mean in part that we have got to shift our vision not away from the current science-orientated arguments but through science. In St. Mark's gospel we are told "Shift your vision, and put your trust in the exciting new ideas." Hiding away and putting our hands over our eyes and ears won't find God for us!
In a few weeks time, Jeff and I are to become God parents. You will know from previous blogs that Jeff and I rarely attend church outside of the occassions of state (funerals and weddings) and differ hugely in our views on spirituality and religion - and consequently for quite different reasons paused before accepting. For Jeff, taking part in a ritual that he does not believe in is difficult. Additionally for him it is has been about looking back to the tradtional role of God parents becoming in loco parentis in the event of some awful catastrophe befalling the parents. Would we be expected to be that under such circumstances? We are both over fifty, and consequently the poor mite would be in the hands of people almost old enough to be her grandparents! We joked in Paris last year how we would have to borrow her for shopping expeditions in the future (echoes of shopping with my late mother) - but beyond that would be frankly hopeless!
The child's parents are open about the opportunism attached to their choice of particular church for this baptism, as it has (unlike our closest church) an extremely good school associated with it.
Putting that aside, though, my pause has been to question in two parts: firstly - will the parents, through this process, renew their own baptisms into the Christian faith (Moore's "symbolic and ritual expression of metanoia") or (the cynic speaks), then cease to attend church until they require the vicar's signature on their child's application form?
Given that, if we were able to prove that no God existed, we would almost certainly not change anything, what if the converse was to happen, and we were able to prove that God existed? What would we do differently?
Thomas Moore, in his excellent book: Writing in the Sand, makes the point that until we have gone through a process of metanoia, a radical shift in our ways of thinking (and living), we will, like Nicodemus, never understand what Jesus meant when he said:"I tell you that no one could see the kingdom of God unless he were born from above." I take this to mean in part that we have got to shift our vision not away from the current science-orientated arguments but through science. In St. Mark's gospel we are told "Shift your vision, and put your trust in the exciting new ideas." Hiding away and putting our hands over our eyes and ears won't find God for us!
In a few weeks time, Jeff and I are to become God parents. You will know from previous blogs that Jeff and I rarely attend church outside of the occassions of state (funerals and weddings) and differ hugely in our views on spirituality and religion - and consequently for quite different reasons paused before accepting. For Jeff, taking part in a ritual that he does not believe in is difficult. Additionally for him it is has been about looking back to the tradtional role of God parents becoming in loco parentis in the event of some awful catastrophe befalling the parents. Would we be expected to be that under such circumstances? We are both over fifty, and consequently the poor mite would be in the hands of people almost old enough to be her grandparents! We joked in Paris last year how we would have to borrow her for shopping expeditions in the future (echoes of shopping with my late mother) - but beyond that would be frankly hopeless!
The child's parents are open about the opportunism attached to their choice of particular church for this baptism, as it has (unlike our closest church) an extremely good school associated with it.
Putting that aside, though, my pause has been to question in two parts: firstly - will the parents, through this process, renew their own baptisms into the Christian faith (Moore's "symbolic and ritual expression of metanoia") or (the cynic speaks), then cease to attend church until they require the vicar's signature on their child's application form?
And second, more importantly, concerns myself: will I, as a confirmed Christian (and I think that I am revising what that means), by taking part in this hugely symbolic ceremony for those of the Christian faith, find from so doing that I am able to undergo my own metanoia and return to the church more substantively?
There is a very strong tide that flows through me that is constantly seeking the strength, the confidence and the knowledge, to put to rest doubts about the basis of my own faith and to be able to reassure those closest to me - not so much in the truth of organised Christianity as it now is - but in the fundamental existence of God. I have difficulty with, and indeed am often distracted by, people that constantly profess their particular interpretation of Christ's mystery and mission. They are usually judgemental, subjective and completely disrespectful of those not sharing their view.
I am emotionally drawn strongly to the mysticism, the ritual, the colour, the music and the evocative architecture of the church - particularly of the Catholics and Celtic Christians. I equally, though, appalled by the newer interpretations of the narrative of the life of Christ by happy clapper TV evangelists and the strangely Victorian values of the modern African church.
In part - much is because I am a gay man. That indeed makes me an outsider where modern Christian morals or morality are concerned. But the history of the Church, and the narrative of the Gospels, is littered with outsiders - and in the latter case, John's Gospel is my comfort: "In my Father's house are many rooms. I am going there to prepare a place for you. I will come back and take you to be with me that you may also be where I am." We are told not to judge but to accept and according to Thomas Moore, in the Greek gospels the word "agape", which means to respect or esteem highly as one would a valuable jewel, was used to transcribe Christ's instruction to his followers on how to treat others.
It is in part too, because, while as a horticulturist I believe gardens should be allowed to evolve as living organisms, I am not so liberal with religion, and consequently do not believe that the Church today reflects the true narrative of Jesus Christ. It has, in my mind, evolved so much that at times it is difficult to believe what one is hearing or reading. Let us not forget that Christianity as an organised religion after Christ's death on the cross, and the martyrdom of millions of its followers, has been itself as monstrously destructive as any other religion.
So, while I set out to find basilea, metanoia, therapeia and agape that are, according to Thomas Moore, the calling of both Jesus and of the early Church, I wonder: what would I do differently if I could prove God existed?
So, while I set out to find basilea, metanoia, therapeia and agape that are, according to Thomas Moore, the calling of both Jesus and of the early Church, I wonder: what would I do differently if I could prove God existed?
There's a challenge indeed!
