Religious Experience, Meaning and the (Lack of the) Substance of Faith

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The phenomena that have been corralled into the category of religious experience include many of those which would be referred to as mystical experiences. Religious experience can be thought of as the cornerstone of true spirituality and genuine religious practice. Ralph Hood, a researcher who has studied such phenomena, devised what is known as the M-scale as a way to survey the degree to which people have encountered such phenomena. If we go with the premise that religious experience is an essential part of spiritual growth, then failing to have or to recognize such experiences would be a major roadblock to those seeking the depth of being, that is, the depth of their own existence as part of the overall depth of existence itself, which many cultures have labeled the Divine or God. We might expect that those who score "low" on measures such as the M-scale also have trouble personally experiencing the core insights of religions or sensing any benefit from spiritual practices. I am not familiar with such literature and if such correlations have been found, but I know two things: firstly, I score very low such measures; secondly, I have trouble personally experiencing the core insights of religions or sensing any benefit from spiritual practices.

On an intellectual level I can "get" the major insights of religion, such as are outlined by a statement from the Snowmass Conference (click and scroll down). I find that these ideas, expressed through the lenses of different faith traditions, are deeply appealing. But like most of my knowledge about such large and complex topics, it is mostly second hand. That is to say, I haven't measured every fossil or living species, but I can see patterns in the data produced by hundreds of academics who have studied millions of specimens collectively. In the same way, if I take the collective experiences of those who have written about their own religious experiences and those of others, I can similarly see intriguing patterns. I also find that many of the moral insights that those of a more "mystic" orientation have affirmed are compatible with my own sensibilities. The same can be said of the humbling and empowering and motivating revelations they convey. So, you know, I like this stuff. I am even slightly moved emotionally on occasion by some if it (though rarely). But it is, as the common vernacular would have it, all in my head. To be clear, this means it is at a fairly superficial level of reflection and integration.  It's like the difference between learning about something in a textbook and going into the lab, or even better, into the field, and getting personal, direct experience with the subject matter. The real thing is always more expansive, complex and exciting than the best generalized models and standard definitions.

The benefits of letting go of God can include coming closer to God

[The following is taken from a larger conversation originally conducted elsewhere. It has been edited for congruity and sensibility, including some new text, but the integrity of its original meaning is left intact.]

People sometimes mention letting go of God. But what does that mean? Was God in your pocket? Maybe on your iPod? Did you set God out with the trash? What you let go was an idea about God. A conception of God. A way of relating to God.

People will often keep struggling to hold on to this perspective, but intellectual honesty often wins out because there were things that didn't work with their expectations and assumptions, including their interpretation of what God and religion is supposed to be and what is valid or invalid in assessing such requirements.

I cannot go into everything I've written on the matter, but I went through the same thing, as have thousands of others. For whatever its worth, here are a very few of the things I have encountered and pondered along the way:

So are you precious or abhorent in the eyes of God?

I will lay my cards on the table -- I am convinced the answer is always "precious".

There are, as some Buddhists say, two truths here.  That is to say, there are two layers which may appear indistinguishable from a superficial inspection.

One is the false self, which in Buddhism is sometimes translated as ego, which is generally not viewed as being strictly the same as the classic psychological concept.  It's more like over-identification with and a distortion of what psychology defines as the ego.  In the absence of a full realization of and actualization of an awareness of our connection to the wholeness of life, of our mutual interdependence with all things (which we can call an awareness of God), the ego comes to see itself as a complete whole, fully autonomous with an intrinsic existence.  Hence, it looks solely to itself for a sense of meaning, fulfillment and happiness.  Ultimately this fails and gives rise to unhealthy, sometimes compulsive, and even destructive behavior.  This is the central problem that such religions address, albeit in different ways.

Do atheists encounter God when they stop believing in God?

"In the New Testament faith means surrender to God. Those who say, 'I can't believe in this God,' usually mean, 'I cannot accept the particular tenets of the religion of my childhood. They were not something I feel I could identify with.' But that does not mean that they don't have faith. An atheist is really someone who has another religion. For them God is not God. But since God transcends all concepts anyway, it really does not matter that much whether you think of God as God or God as not God. For faith it does not matter, because even if you have a belief system that calls the Ultimate Reality by some other name or label, anything you can say about God is more unlike God than God actually is." -- Fr. Thomas Keating in  Divine Therapy & Addiction

If we take what Keating says seriously that many people are asking for something based on a specific preconception of who and what God is and how God operates. If I haven't written it somewhere before, I would expand this and say if you have experienced true joy, beauty, the thrill of discovery, freedom or liberation from shackles of the body, heart or mind, then you have awoken to/realized part of God (or your experience within God).

Take this quote by Robert Ingersoll which sums up what many agnostics and atheists feel:

When I became convinced that the Universe is natural--that all the ghosts and gods are myths, there entered into my brain, into my soul, into every drop of my blood, the sense, the feeling, the joy of freedom. The walls of my prison crumbled and fell, the dungeon was flooded with light, and all the bolts, and bars, and manacles became dust. I was no longer a servant, a serf, or a slave. There was for me no master in all the wide world--not even in infinite space. I was free--free to think, to express my thoughts--free to live to my own ideal--free to live for myself and those I loved--free to use all my faculties, all my senses--free to spread imagination's wings--free to investigate, to guess and dream and hope--free to judge and determine for myself--free to reject all ignorant and cruel creeds, all the "inspired" books that savages have produced, and all the barbarous legends of the past--free from popes and priests--free from all the "called" and "set apart"--free from sanctified mistakes and holy lies--free from the fear of eternal pain--free from the winged monsters of the night--free from devils, ghosts, and gods. For the first time I was free. There were no prohibited places in all the realms of thought--no air, no space, where fancy could not spread her painted wings--no chains for my limbs--no lashes for my back--no fires for my flesh--no master's frown or threat--no following another's steps- -no need to bow, or cringe, or crawl, or utter lying words. I was free. I stood erect and fearlessly, joyously, faced all worlds.

It sounds like many people may perceive (an aspect of) God but don't realize it because of their certainty about who or what God is. (This isn't an attempt to impose God on those who claim to not believe, it is a perspective that assumes the reality of God and the sincerity of atheists.)

Oh, They've Encased Jesus in Carbonite

[Yes, this post is long by blog standards and in a world of twittering and texting, but I've examined the matter and breaking this up into smaller posts really screws up its flow and cohesion, so suck it up and wade in... :o) ]

People have long used images like keeping God in a little wooden box, so I thought I would use an image more familiar to my generation. Jesus is alive, and in perfect hibernation. Frozen forever in a familiar form, easily pictured and understood. Come and kneel - pray before the Carbonite Jesus. He always looks the same, an image inert in time and space - oh how we love thee, Carbonite Jesus.

For those not familiar with my reference, Jesus was a first century Rabbi in Palestine who was executed for sedition. A holy man and reported miracle worker, many of his followers would claim he was/is the son of God. The other reference is to a process by which Darth Vader planned to immobilize his son, Luke Skywalker, for transport his master Emperor Palpatine in the film The Empire Strikes Back.

What is known about the teachings of Jesus emphasize the Hebrew prophetic tradition of emphasizing that obedience to God is to love God and to love others, and that the other Jewish laws must be understood in this context. Hence Jesus took up a call similar to the prophets recorded in the "Old" Testament to be humble and to identify with and serve the weak and the powerless. After his death his followers reported he had been resurrected (not resuscitated, merely bringing his old body back to life). Further, many of his followers claimed he had ascended to Heaven.The early Christian community argued over whether he was a man who had become a god or who had achieved union with God and therefore divinity, or whether he was just God pretending to be a human in a flesh suit. Later his followers would reject both ideas, suggesting he was fully human and fully divine as an aspect of the Trinity. The specific details were left as a mystery of faith. Still others argued whether he arose in his old body, a new body, a body of matter, a body of spirit, or something else. The early community simply said he was resurrected and left an empty tomb. The specific details of his bodily resurrection were left as a mystery of faith.

Many of his followers saw his death and resurrection as an indication of God's solidarity with humanity, an opportunity to participate in divinity as fellow children of God. Trusting in the insights offered by the Gospels and following the example of Jesus were seen as a means of salvation, of transcending a limited life characterized by alienation from an appreciation of the intimate presence and unyielding love of God. Early on, following Jesus was often to defy tradition and what was comfortable and conventional, to be liberated in a way that even death could not taint or corrupt. Such joy and freedom saw Christianity spread and eventually become a state religion, and after this marriage of tradition and politics it became a world religion.

Throughout the centuries as Western history marched on, Christianity became the primary religion of Europe, subject to the influences of politics, bureaucracy, tribalism, racism, regionalism, and eventually nationalism. As the currency of power and control it attracted both noble and ignoble leaders and challengers. Councils were held to formalize and standardize the religion, schisms formed, reformations erupted, and in the background of war and peace and justice and injustice was the crucifix, the cross, and the statues and paintings of Christ and his family and followers. Like all religions and human institutions, the hopes and fears of hundreds of generations became woven into the theologies and practices of those receiving the tradition.

But what ever became of Jesus?

I don't think that provincialism or tribalism is a great way to assess the universal validity of something, so after I left conservative fundamentalist Protestantism and went in and out of anti-spiritual/anti-religious atheism, I got to know a lot more about other world religions as well as some indigenous/Earth-based traditions. I studied Buddhism broadly and centered my specific focus on East Asian (especially Japanese) forms of Mahayana Buddhism, though I had and keep a soft spot for the incredible writings and teachings of figures like the 14th Dalai Lama. And like the hundreds, possibly thousands of others in this kind of situation, having matured a bit about the nature and importance of religion and spirituality, and how it is (in)appropriately expressed in various ways, I naturally got interested in interfaith efforts and insights. This led me to find figures and ideas in historical and contemporary Christianity I hadn't been aware of before, especially the contemplative and mystical dimensions and the broader view of the value of the Gospels and the liturgies of the more sacramental forms of Christianity and the power of practicing forms of devotion.

These authors* - Br. Wayne Teasdale, Fr. Thomas Merton, Fr. Thomas Keating, Br. David Steindl-Rast, and those like them were/are not trying to rewrite Catholicism or Christianity, but rather express the vision of Church and Christ and God that they had received from the Church and presumably from their devotion to Jesus. In addition I benefited from reading about the encounters and dialogues between accomplished Buddhist teachers and their Christian counterparts, as well from as those who had journeyed from one tradition to the other (and sometimes back again). The result may strike some as trying to recast Jesus and his ministry or his relevance to their theological views on life and death. That is not my intent.

Instead, the question that starts to take shape has to do with the essentials or fundamentals of Christianity. Obviously, the Orthodox, Roman Catholics and their primary offshoots can point to their catechism or the set of creeds to which they adhere, and the Fundamentalists were so named because of the pamphlet their ideological forebearers produced outlining what they viewed as the fundamentals of proper Christianity. I appreciate the importance of trying to have standards about important teachings so that they can be faithfully passed on and properly received from generation to generation, and I have no wish here to denigrate such efforts. Obviously, they were useful in guiding the spiritual development of past saints and visionaries often lauded by those who favor the mystic/contemplative dimensions of the Gospel like St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, Julian of Norwich, etc, as well as those contemporary Christian authors mentioned before.

But that only begs the question - are such traditions meant to guide and influence spiritual growth or to curtail it and box it in? How much latitude is there in interpretation and what is the value of practical personal experience? These questions have stirred controversy and dissent note only throughout the history of Christianity but also throughout the history of every major world religion. And is the goal of a religion merely to perpetuate itself intact from age to age or is it to remind us of the transformative insights and experiences of its founder(s) so that others may be guided and inspired in their own spiritual journey? I take the latter view.

Again, the earliest and most consistently enduring valued aspects of the Gospels (as far as I can tell) include the belief that the life, death and resurrection of Jesus is an indication of God's solidarity with humanity and an opportunity to participate in his divinity as fellow children of God. To know God not as a distant, alien ruler or tyrant but as Abba - our Father. That trusting in the insights offered by the Gospels and following the example of Jesus are a means of salvation, of transcending a limited life characterized by alienation from an appreciation of the intimate presence and unyielding love of God. That following Jesus often means to defy convention and tradition in order to be liberated in a way that even death could not taint or corrupt.

This is what my intellect, my heart, and my conscience tell me is the most relevant and essential aspects of the Gospels and the Christian tradition. Everything else either points back to these basic beliefs or attempts to explain, rationalize, or justify them. Some of these additional efforts are useful for many, some are useful for a few. Some are logical and consistent with the values expressed in the basic beliefs mentioned above, others or inconsistent or tangential, either because they are anachronisms, culturally inappropriate, or because they came from a human need to control and exclude along tribal, regional, racial, economic, ethnic, or political lines.

Both Jesus and his apostles chose different ways of speaking to the people's understanding, to bridge the definitions/perception of divinity and humanity they work with. In Buddhism this is known as skillful or expedient means - sharing an essential truth in a way that is suitable to the audience. There were many stories that kings and rulers used to justify their legitimacy. Many of the ways of telling Christ's story inverted these standard tropes - for example being born in a manger. In other cases well-understood symbols were crossed or exaggerated to try to make a particular point to the audience. This was also true of the stories told after Christ's death.

Take substitutionary atonement. It works up to a point as a metaphor, but if it doesn't get you to the bigger picture, it leads to the strongest forms of Calvinism, of extreme judgmentalism and exlucisivism. The way I understand that particular theological model is that we are all already embraced by God but we cannot see it or accept it. It is our duality of thinking, of God and not-God, of exaggerating the objective reality of good and evil, that keeps us from accepting this truth and resting in God. This way of thinking, of a cosmic struggle, of us and them, is clearly expressed in the most concrete of terms in the Bible as the view of God alternates between a jealous and insecure sky-deity and an all-embracing Source of all that is becoming.

But that doesn't mean we are just supposed to accept that view without further thought or reflection, as the flat-thinking folks would have us believe. I believe it does however, when combined with what Christ taught, ask us to follow through. Christ had to die because we are the ones who see a distance between ourselves and God, because we give our faith to such distinctions. We are the source of alienation, and we don't know how to truly love ourselves and each other, to forgive ourselves and each other, to heal and allow ourselves to be healed. It isn't God's sense of justice that must be satisfied - it isn't God's sense of isolation and intrinsic autonomy that has caused the perception of a rift between ourselves and God (that is, it isn't God's sin) - it isn't God who ate from the fruit of the tree and divided the world into good and evil -it is our own doing. That is a fuller picture of how to appreciate substitutionary atonement in my humble opinion. In our sin we don't just act bad, we fail to achieve our full goodness - our full potential.

So what does all of this suggest about what happened to Jesus? From a panentheistic point of view, everything is Divine. A wave is made of water, but it isn't the entire ocean. If you get rid of all of the waves, eventually there is no more ocean, so to get to know the ocean, become familiar with the waves. The ocean itself is too vast to comprehend in an intellectual sense, but we can still go float in it and experience it directly (which is especially meaningful when we realize we are part of the ocean). The other half, that we can know the ocean by knowing a wave, is important to your question. It is reflected in the Jewish teaching that Jesus taught was supreme - that to know and love God is to know and love others. The Gospels paint a picture of someone who embraces and embodies this Wisdom and lives the teaching every day, every moment, including his willingness to give up his life.

Jesus reminds us we are not lost and dies to make sure we know we are found - that any possible reason we might cling to that we think would keep us from God is no longer an obstacle. Details about his divinity and his resurrection are generally considered mysteries of the faith. Points where we can never receive a complete or satisfactory answer and which are therefore left as a matter of faith. Panentheism, for example, is just as good an analogy as any but like all such systems it is ultimately incomplete and just a useful guide marker on the spiritual journey. Yet we also have the ascension. In this Jesus returns to God/goes to Heaven. To the heart of Creation, which is constantly unfolding. To the Ground of Being and the Source of Becoming. In other traditions this might be referred to as the non dual coexistence of Shunyata and the Pure Land, the Dharmakaya, the Tao.

In this sense, historically, as the stories of the resurrection and ascension spread and became incorporated into The Way (which would later become better known as Christianity), and symbolically, Jesus in the Christian tradition comes to be understood in cosmic terms, as the face and substance of the phenomenological aspect of reality (or of form, to use the Buddhist equivalent). Hence, as folks such as Fr. Keating like to describe it (adding in Mystic/Buddhist subtitles), the Father (Ground of Being/Source of Becoming) empties himself into the Son (the phenomenological or historical dimensions of existence), and the Son empties himself into the Father. Or as the Heart Surtra frames it, form is no other than emptiness**, emptiness no other than form - form is exactly emptiness, emptiness exactly form. They are not really two, but one. Of course in Christian tradition there is a trinity that is one, not a duality. In such a scenario the third part of the trinity is in found in the act of transformation itself - that which helps to define the other two elements and which demonstrates they are simply different aspects of the same. Hence it is supposedly what we "receive" when we realize our own connection to God through the person of Jesus.

There are loads of implications for what it means to have the symbol of love and peace and God's solidarity with Creation being at the heart of Creation as it is constantly formed and reformed. Many of have been pondered ceaselessly, and others likely have yet to be realized. But among them is the denial that "the world", as used in a pejorative sense in the Christian tradition, simply means the physical world, because Christ is at the heart of it. (Again, I think it is the false world we make for ourselves in our delusion, samsara; I also have a thought on what this could mean for sacraments like the Eucharist.) It would also entail a respect for all things inspiring peace and love, since these also must come from Christ. Hence Christ can be heard when a Buddhist chants Nam(u) Myoho Renge Kyo, or Nam(u) Amitofo/Amida, or Om Mane Padme Hung, and in that moment the Buddhist cultivates a respect for all living things or an awareness of his own connection to a larger reality filled with wisdom and compassion. Hence Christ can be seen when a professed atheist works to teach poor children to read out of respect and love for humanity.

But too often, however we have heard of Christ, either from a traditional or non-traditional perspective, as a King, as a Redeemer, or even as a dashboard Buddy, we tend to lock him into a fixed and familiar form. To follow him is often reduced to following a rigid prescription of activities using the right materials and affirming the right beliefs without question, and to reject him is to reject this setup. To grow our understanding of God and Jesus by going beyond the Bible and the cross or whatever we have attached to our fixed image of Jesus is unthinkable, even when this doesn't mean rejecting the Bible or the cross, even when this enhances and builds on our understanding of the Bible and the cross. Clark Strand suggests in his book (How to Believe in God) that often such folks are half-believers, that is, they aren't secure enough or deep enough into the insights of their own faith to be able to appreciate other perspectives. They limit God and they limit Jesus to working only within the familiar and traditional confines of the religion humans created to honor and follow Jesus, which in a way is tragically ironic. This isn't an insult towards the Church, but an observation of successes and failures of the institutions of the Church (Orthodox, Roman Catholic, etc) in creating and correcting such phobia of anything that doesn't officially "look" or "sound" properly "Christian".

[Anecdote: I recently observed a Protestant Fundamentalist reacting with horror to a Catholic suggesting that those who don't truly know Christ and his saving grace can still realize salvation because the truth, if not overt Christianity, is written in their hearts. The Fundamentalist was, at least in his typed reply, almost apoplectic. I would, theoretically at least for the sake of argument, go a little further (given this premise and assuming a less limited view of Jesus) and suggest that even ex-Christians, who knew all the theology and felt joy and power in their lives, who believed all the creeds etc, may not have fully known or understood, in a personal way, what Jesus really represents and who he is. This is not a lame attempt to say they were never really Christians, etc, but rather to suggest that any Jesus or God we can truly and completely dump in our heart of hearts and live without doesn't seem like it would be the complete and full legit article, does it? And the ones who go to Hell are supposedly the ones how are truly aware of Christ and the fullness of his grace and mercy and reject him anyway. This in turn to me implies again the universalist view of Christ. Rather than suggesting that these people are going to Hell because they don't believe in Jesus, we can argue they are not because they haven't actually rejected Jesus. That the point of such a teaching would actually seem to be that no one can possibly reject the actual full and genuine experience of the grace of God, whatever package it comes in (or conversely we could say that so long as we do reject such grace the state we live in would be Hell). And that the package doesn't have to come stamped with a little Cross and a Bible verse. I didn't mention these potential extrapolation of their debate though as I was afraid the one fellow might blow a gasket!]

Each of us has the temptation to take what we think about some revelation we perceive as being from God, in this case the life, example, and status of Jesus, and turn it into an idol. Something convenient. Something comfortable. Something we think we can control. Each of us at some point or another has given into this urge, even if we never used the language of religion or spirituality. And for those whose understanding of God is centered in the person of Jesus, we have all taken our turn at freezing him in carbonite. But Christ's message above all was about liberation, whether couched in terms of salvation or redemption, and perhaps one of the most difficult things one can do if one is inspired by and wants to follow Jesus is to let go of the confining certainty of a few scraps of dogma and scripture for the entire package of tradition AND the living Christ.

It's always best to use practical concrete examples, and great case in point can be found in this recent story about the concern over an Episcopal priest who practices Zen, in which people focus on form and emptiness and generate compassion for all living things...

Unofficial tallies show that an Episcopal priest who practices Zen Buddhist meditation and holds controversial theological views will not likely be consecrated as bishop of the Diocese of Northern Michigan.


James Tonkowich, president of the Institute for Religion and Democracy, however, argued, "The issue is not whether meditation is good, it is what is being meditated on."


"While church leaders may respect other faiths, their vow of Christian ordination has always meant an exclusive commitment to Jesus Christ and the Christian faith."


Responding to criticisms of Thew Forrester's Buddhist meditation, Rustin Kimsey, retired bishop of the Diocese of Eastern Oregon, said, "[W]hen did the way in which we are deepened into the presence of God become a litmus test for being a follower of Jesus Christ?"


Source

Excellent question, Bishop Kimsey, excellent question.


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*It should not be assumed that because these or other author's mentioned may have helped inspire or flesh out the theology and Christology presented here that they would actually agree with my views.

**form refers to phenomena, including anything we can perceive with our senses or conceptualize in our minds; emptiness refers to lack of intrinsic or inherent qualities, that is, it refers to the fact that all form is inter-dependent and transient. Emptiness also refers to potential, the potential upon which existence is based. Hence all forms are interconnected through cause and effect by way of emptiness. The upshot is that all things, including all people and every moment, are fleeting and unique, irreplaceable and therefore valuable beyond measure; it also implies a fundamental equality of all people as well.

Western Buddhists - stay or go home?

Tricycle's Blog recently quoted a sentiment I have run across several times, including a few times from this one individual...

Many Westerners attracted to Buddhist practice have abandoned their own spiritual traditions. They reject the churches and clergy of their own traditions because they feel constricted and uncomfortable with the attitudes and practices they have encountered there. They have suffered within their own tradition and so have sought another. They approach Buddhist practice with the hope of replacing their own tradition and may wish to break away from their own tradition forever.
According to Buddhist wisdom, such wishing is in vain. A person severed from her own culture and traditions is like a tree pulled out by the roots. Such a person will find it hard to be happy. Buddhist practice can offer effective means to heal, reconcile, and reunite with one’s blood and spiritual families, in order to discover the precious gems in one’s own traditions. Thanks to the practice, people will see that Buddhism and their own spiritual tradition have many things in common, and therefore it is not necessary to reject their own spiritual tradition. They will see that there are things that need to be transformed in Buddhism as well as in their own tradition.
–Thich Nhat Hanh, from Teachings on Love (Parallax Press)

I replied with the following...

If you aren’t ready or able to see the use of returning to your religion of ancestry, then do not. The advice doesn’t just say “Go back.” It says to be healed first, implying growing and dealing with the attachment, confusion or pain previously associated with that ancestral religion and to use the insights from Buddhist practice to find what may have been previously overlooked in your old faith. I would venture to suggest that such reconciliation, in part or total, would eventually be necessary an inevitable even if one stayed on the Buddhist path. Just because you can’t appreciate that being possible now doesn’t mean it cannot happen. No need to force or rush anything or to presume where your path will lead. It will be alright and guide you just where you needed to be. :^)

The thing is, I can see how my experience with Buddhism has impacted my view of Judaism and Christianity, opened my eyes to the contemplative and mystical dimensions of Christianity and neglected but traditional forms of exegesis. The ideas of apparent paradox, the importance of the tension between literal and figurative meanings, the value of ahistorical truth, etc, have been amazing on my appreciation of Christianity. I share the excitement and enthusiasm of people like Clark Strand in (re)discovering the wisdom and compassion of the Bible, even if I am not on his level of insight (see my review of his book on the subject). Books like Going Home: Jesus and the Buddha as Brothers as well as the work and writings of Christians like Br. Wayne Teasdale, Br. David Steindl-Rast, Fr. Thomas Merton, Fr. Thomas Keating, and those saints (official and unofficial) who inspired them along with authors like Marcus Borg, along with strong social justice movements for peace and the welfare of all (such as liberation theology) tell me such insights and views are not flukes nor are they extinct in Christianity. And my apophatic contemplative mysticism provided a viable theological foundation.

But I am not finding it easy to decide to go with Buddhism or to go with Christianity. It's hard to find Buddhist communities to practice with, and my cultural (if not karmic) affinities tend to be Western and therefore Judeo-Christian. But then, my ideal Christian community, which would be the size, scope, and liturgical/historical richness and community of the Roman Catholic Church mixed with the interfaith respect and progressive values of the Unitarian Universalist, does not exist, and the idea of just where I would fit is hard to say. On the other hand, many Buddhist communities would have no problem with a new member with Christian affinities. But I don't "know" the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas like I do the Hebrew prophets, Jesus and his parents/disciples, etc. Maybe it would help if a teacher were to say "They aren't equivalent, but this Bodhisattva is like Peter and this Enlightened Being is like John the Baptist and this historical figure is like Moses..." Because even if you try to take these alien figures seriously as part of the service, it needs to be sincere, not just politely going along.

So anyway, as I wrote recently, if you want to pitch your group or congregation, I am open to suggestions.

Reverend Ryuei's version of The Christ Narrative as (Buddhist) Sutra

One of the earliest things I posted here is a short piece called "The Christ Narrative As Metaphor". I don't claim it is an original idea, although I did arrive at it independently (which doesn't mean free of influences to my thinking but rather that it wasn't plagiarized). Then today I am reading a comment in another blog left by Ryuei (an American Nichiren Buddhist minister) and I come across this...

In the Flower Garland Sutra and in passages from some other sutra cited in Shantideva's Shiksasamucaya there are vows by the bodhisattvas to the effect that they wish to take on all suffering and go into all the lower realms for the sake of all suffering beings. That sure sounds like vicarious atonement to me! The problem of course is that by the stricter standards of Buddhist teachings of cause and effect one cannot take on the karma of others like that. But one can create merit through solidarity with others and then transfer that merit. And in the deeper understanding of Mahayana it is pointed out that since there is no self or other ultimately how can we talk about individualized karma?


Another thing is that in various sutras and in Shantideva's Bodhicaryavatara the bodhisattvas vow to be food and drink for others - and to someone with a Catholic heritage like myself that sounds an awful lot like Eucharist. Even more interestingly, I recently discovered that the word "sambhog" in "Sambhogakaya" (the Enjoyment or Bliss Body of the Buddha) can also means "to consume." It is in fact taught that advanced bodhisattvas do have a sambhogakaya just like the Buddhas. If you read the accounts of the Resurrection in the Gospels and the way Paul talks about encountering Christ on the road to Damascus, it is readily apparent that what is being presented is by no means a simple resuscitation. In fact, in some of the encounters the disciples and Mary Magdalene don't even recognize Jesus at first! Huh!?


It seems to me that if a Buddhist with no knowledge of Christianity were to read these encounters for him or herself without anyone else providing any commentary or background they would assume that what happened was that an advanced bodhisattva (say Samantabhadra) decided to appear in the Mediterranean Basin in the first century to try to communicate as much as could be communicated of the five precepts, the law of cause and effect, the Dharmakaya (personified as "abba" or "daddy"), the Pure Land in this world (the Kingdom of Heaven) and bodhicitta. Then he ran afoul of the authorities, got himself killed, and then by an "act of truth" (satygraha) typical in Jataka tales restored himself but in a Mahayana twist did so in the sambhogakaya form to his closest followers. His teachings and Way was then distorted into a Greek mystery religion and Greek philosophy was used to try to make sense of it all and in the process deified him as the One and Only Son of God whose sacrifice one must have faith in for salvation, thus turning a skillful means into a barrier against the True Dharma.

The point is not to try to suggest, as others have attempted to do before, that during the "missing" years of the life of Jesus he was in a city such as Alexandria where Buddhist monasteries had been established prior to his birth, learning the Dharma and then trying to re-image it for a Jewish audience. In fact, it has been suggested that things may have gone the other way - that some variant of the early Gospel inspired the Mahayana vision of the Bodhisattva. (And no, I am not trying to push that idea here either). If, however, you find the substance of these comparisons to be of interest, that is if you are willing able to go beyond objections such as "Who influenced whom?" or "Anything associated with that religion is inferior, suspect, or false because I heard its members teach A, B, and C!" to appreciate the common experience and disposition at issue, allow to recommend some reading for follow-up.

First would be Going Home: Jesus and Buddha as Brothers by Thich Nhat Hanh (see my comments here). It is a collection of transcribed Dharma talks over the period of a few years, and it is especially relevant to this topic in terms of how Thich Nhat Hanh describes the idea of life, death, rebirth, and the Eucharist from a Buddhist perspective. To paraphrase, there is indeed a bodily resurrection of Christ and it happens every time someone is faithful to the spirit of the life and message of Jesus (in other words the faithful are a part of his dharma body). Next would be Manifesting God by Fr. Thomas Keating (which I discussed here a few months ago) as well as an appendix at the end of Fr. Keatings seminal work, Open Mind, Open Heart: The Contemplative Dimension of the Gospel. This appendix (available online here) outlines how Fr. Keating sees the Gospel from the perspective of his Catholic tradition AND from the perspective of deep contemplative/mystical awarenss. Here are ten of the forty-two points made...

1. The fundamental goodness of human nature, like the mystery of the Trinity, Grace, and the Incarnation, is an essential element of Christian faith. This basic core of goodness is capable of unlimited development; indeed, of becoming transformed into Christ and deified.


2. Our basic core of goodness is our true Self. Its center of gravity is God. The acceptance of our basic goodness is a quantum leap in the spiritual journey.


3. God and our true Self are not separate. Though we are not God, God and our true Self are the same thing.


4. The term original sin is a way of describing the human condition, which is the universal experience of coming to full reflective self consciousness without the certitude of personal union with God. This gives rise to our intimate sense of incompletion, dividedness, isolation, and guilt.


5. Original sin is not the result of personal wrongdoing on our part. Still, it causes a pervasive feeling of alienation from God, from other people and from the true Self. The cultural consequences of these alienations are instilled in us from earliest childhood and passed on from one generation to the next. The urgent need to escape from the profound insecurity of this situation gives rise, when unchecked, to insatiable desires for pleasure, possession, and power. On the social level, it gives rise to violence, war, and institutional injustice.


6. The particular consequences of original sin include all the self serving habits that have been woven into our personality from the time we were conceived; all the emotional damage that has come from our early environment and upbringing; all the harm that other people have done to us knowingly or unknowingly at an age when we could not defend ourselves; and the methods we acquired--many of them now unconscious--to ward off the pain of unbearable situations.


7. This constellation of prerational reactions is the foundation of the false self. The false self develops in opposition to the true Self. Its center of gravity is itself.


8. Grace is the presence and action of Christ at every moment of our lives. The sacraments are ritual actions in which Christ is present in a special manner, confirming and sustaining the major commitments of our Christian life.


9. In Baptism, the false self is ritually put to death, the new self is born, and the victory over sin won by Jesus through his death and resurrection is placed at our disposal. Not our uniqueness as persons, but our sense of separation from God and from others is destroyed in the death dealing and life-giving waters of Baptism.


10. The Eucharist is the celebration of life: the coming together of all the material elements of the cosmos, their emergence to consciousness in human persons and the transformation of human consciousness into Divine consciousness. It is the manifestation of the Divine in and through the Christian community We receive the Eucharist in order to become the Eucharist.

Points #2 and #3 are particularly interesting in that Fr. Keating also frequently refers to God as Ultimate Reality and espouses here what is sometimes referred to as a panentheistic view of God. There is a similar discussion in Going Home in which Thich Nhat Hanh makes the same case in terms familiar to many Buddhists, that of the wave and water. There are other points of convergence as well but I will leave it to the interested reader to continue their own investigation from here.

Book Review: Manifesting God

Manifesting God is the name of a very short, direct, and affective (that's not a typo) book written by Thomas Keating. I have promoted interspiritual, interreligious, or interfaith issues before and I was particularly moved by the writings of the late Brother Wayne Teasdale, who saw the contemplative dimension that is common to all religious traditions and spiritual paths as essential for one's personal fulfilment as well as the transformation of the human community to a more compassionate and mature state. Keating and his revival of Centering Prayer are frequently featured of such interspiritual dialogue. So when I saw slim, diminutive summary book on the topic by Keating himself dated to 2005, I decided to read it and see what the fuss was about.

I am not going to quote from the book here, but let me just that if you are a Buddhist, especially a Western-culture-raised Buddhist, regardless of whether you into Tibetan Buddhism, Chan/Zen/etc, traditional or Japanese Pure Land, or the many other varieties or combinations, I suspect you will frequently feel as if you are reading a book on Buddhism. That's right - whether you identify more with sitting silently while being open and nonjudgmental toward Ultimate Reality/reality-as-it-is or whether you identify more with the idea of faith in our True Nature (i.e. expressed as True Mind, a vision of a particular Buddha, as an ineffable Presence, etc) as the bedrock for all other practice, you will read passages that will resonate with what you have seen, read, heard, and/or experienced as a Buddhist practitioner.

I am not suggesting that what Keating is offering is simply Buddhism-lite dressed up a Christianity. However, as many have noted before while particular rites, rituals, prayers, and paraphernalia are important to beginning and sustaining a spiritual or religious path, it may be that where many of them lead is not so different (or in the end even identical). Naturally, similar traps crop up in all faiths leading at times to exclusion, fear, and hatred. That is because while religions express a shared understanding of who we are and how to live a meaningful life, they don't always come up with the same answers, even within themselves. Hence the familiar fallacy of what it means to be a "true" Christian, or Buddhist, or Muslim. This makes the commonality of the insights and resulting qualities of so many dedicated seekers quite fascinating.

Rather than call for a amalgamation of all religions into a theological gumbo, many contemplative masters and respected spiritual and religious leaders often point instead to the idea that there is a path in each system that works as to get people past the superficial (where much of the disagreements and disputes arise)to the more profound realization of their faith (where there is more commonality and less friction). To paraphrase Teasdale, religious systems are now open and interconnected with one another, able to borrow and learn from each other without completely absorbing or nullifying the others. If I recall correctly even the current Dalai Lama has suggested as much, encouraging people raised in Christianity to seek realization in that more familiar cultural paradigm of spirituality. Of course, that doesn't mean there aren't those who identify with more than one faith, but many I have heard of or know tend to see them as multiple incarnations or distinct expressions of human understanding. That is, I get the feeling they can identify with multiple religions without having to try to explicitly include all of their practices and symbols.

I bring this latter point up simply to remind readers of the complexity of and hence the potential for misunderstanding when discussing interspiritual topics. I have noted a defensive tendency at times(playfully addressed in a post titled "Don't taint my Buddhism with comparisons to Christianity"). Nor am I excluding myself from being more inclined to be argumentative first and respectful second. As for the book, Manifesting God is intriguing to me because yes, it does talk about God and Jesus and it includes quotes from the Bible (for more on my thoughts on these issues in general look here), but it also speaks to topics I have wrestled with in Buddhism.

Perhaps this is in part because so much of my spiritual cultural heritage was founded from such a different perspective than Asian spirituality. While some folks rush to exorcise God and any notion resembling God from their lives and their practice when embracing paths such as Buddhism, it is possible that at times that lacuna means that we have more difficulty processing certain images or messages. That is, even if one does not believe in the God of their childhood or church-going days, it is difficult to "get" some spiritual concepts without a reference that at least vaguely resembles that term because it occupies a unique linguistic and ontological space in our culture and society.

Here is a small sampling of what Buddhists might recognize in the book. The practice of getting past our assumptions, letting go of our false selves, and therefore not clinging to expectations (whether these expectations and judgements are about our formal practice or our lived experience). The idea of being an interdependent aspect of the greater whole of Ultimate Reality. The idea of challenging the view of the embodiment of Ultimate Reality as a transcendent, aloof, and judgemental ruler who only favors the (religiously) observant, the successful, and the upstanding with the view of an immanent Presence that is all-inclusive and is found in the broken, the vile, and the discarded as well as the pretty and the pleasing. (The transcendent aspect is not discarded but is taken from being aloof or inaccessible and recast as simply being ineffable.)

Additionally, Keating talks specifically about pre-conceptions of God (Ultimate Reality) that are commonly passed on to children and which can hinder their interest in or experience of the Divine. While I am not listing and discussing them here, I do believe that for many people raised with such notions these same hang-ups may manifest in subtle and not so subtle ways in their practice of Buddhism as well. Therefore even for those are not particularly interested in interfaith dialogue or Christianity per se, I do wonder to what degree reading this little book may be beneficial to other Buddhists with a Western/Christianized background. So I put the question out there and you can decide what, if anything, you will do with it. Those who practice and path involves both contemplation and faith as co-equal or even unequal elements (including the Zen folks, the Shin folks, etc) I anticipate it will be most useful. For those totally turned off by the association of Buddhism with or even the mere mentioning of Christianity, Jesus, God, etc I anticipate it will be even more useful.



PS- I am aware that Clark Strand, a name that produces strong reactions in English-speaking Buddhist circles, is supposed to have a new book out in the next several months How to Believe in God (Whether You Believe in Religion or Not). I have no idea what he plans to say in that book, but I am wondering if it will be along the lines of what I am discussing here? And if so, I wonder what kind of reaction it will generate?

Using dangerous words - talking about religious language

I recently read a new book titled Dangerous Words: Discussing God in the Age of Fundamentalism, and then posted an excerpt and recommendation on a friend's message forums. It attracted a response from an intelligent person who had a take on the issue, and even though we disagree on many points, he helped me articulate my own views a little better. That is what is being presented here - my replies. The first paragraph is new, and the rest is my half of the dialog stitched together into a single short essay, hence it may seem a little repetitive at times or to jump a little in tone or emphasis. I apologize for the unevenness. In any case, here it is, an ultra-concise (and therefore surely inadequate) summary of my general take on religious language (i.e. spiritual language, language of the sacred, etc).

Some people get antsy around religious language, becoming either confrontational or squeamish. A common objection is that we must deal with feelings and experiences that are highly subjective, and for some, this constitutes a weakness or inferiority of such experiences. But does that make sense? Should we resort to myopic view like the extreme end of scientism, where we discount anything that cannot be physically measured and reproduced?

Logic doesn't actually exist in the sense of being able to touch it or scan it. Neither does love. But I don't disqualify them from the category of "what is". I simply realize that they don't fit in the domain of things that are objectively, physically documented in the same way as minerals, vegetation, or brands of cola.

Nor does it do any good to say "We see reactions in the brain" when people feel or think a certain way or "We can hypothesize how neurons would process these things", because that still misses the mark. It would be like saying that "light" is the name we give to a reaction in the eye. In fact, "sight" is made possible by the eye, and actually takes place as we understand the experience in the brain, yet light is not just a "trick of the brain".

Nor should we be arrogant enough to suppose then that everything else we experience in our "heads" or "hearts" must in fact just be an artifact of biology because we don't have machines to locate or define other phenomena that we currently can only experience and not mechanically break down and describe. I am not arguing for any particular thing to be literally true, here, I am simply suggesting that we should be cautious in our dismissiveness.

Nor is it all about unquestioning devotion to a holy book. Lots of people who aren't fundamentalists put stock in books that they feel come with solid credentials, including sacred texts. The real difference in my view is that a non-fundamentalist can appreciate that religious language does not need to be literal language, and yet at the same time a religious person who is not a fundamentalist realizes that not all truths are in the domain of literal (a.k.a. historically-bounded) truth.

This comes in part from the realization that everything in this world is experienced in our heads. Everything. It cannot be otherwise. Our brain is the seat of our local consciousness. The only thing we can actually be sure of is the existence of our own awareness, an expression of such consciousness. The rest we must assume. That is the whole point behind the scientific enterprise - a methodology which attempts to make the most reliable possible statements about natural phenomena. But that doesn't make that which is not scientifically demonstrable "untrue" or without value. If one is going to go by their experiences, rather than just the received collective authority, as you mentioned earlier, then we must be open to the entire range of experience, even those which are highly personal or rare, even singular.

My point isn't the ontological status of phenomena, which is always a secondary assumption based on the metaphysical model we choose to employ. Instead, it is that our first, best knowledge of anything is our direct experience. Assumptions about how to pigeon-hole our experiences (natural vs. supernatural, this subcategory versus that subcategory) are not neutral. Our theories, models, and theologies are stripped down, simplified versions of the full richness of the actual, which can never be fully described or explained. Hence, understanding how our use of language shapes our perception of reality, whether or not one considers oneself "rational" or "atheist" or otherwise, should be a deep concern.

Nor am I referring specifically to "supernaturalism", which is really a way of trying to make literal interpretations of the metaphorical. However, that is irrelevant to what I am suggesting anyway, as 1) I personally don't use a dualistic universe model and 2) I am discussing the importance of being open to the potential of any given experience. My light/sight analogy isn't a justification for leprechauns or unicorns or Zeus. I am, however, pointing out that there are phenomena which can and do lie beyond the boundaries of strict empiricism as defined by "can I see it and measure it" and that they have value. In addition, my light/sight analogy is pointing out precisely that there can be phenomena we currently (and possible might only ever be able to) experience directly and subjectively and not subject to scientific study. That is, prior to our contemporary understanding of light and the optic nerve, which is still lacking, if someone could have monitored brain activity they may have presumed "light" was a made-up concept. That does not mean light is somehow supernatural. Even in science, people often make the greatest theoretical breakthroughs years before they can actually test them (Einstein comes to mind). Again, the point I am making, as a way of discussing the book I am recommending, is that religious language is useful for expressing experience and phenomena that are outside our standard matter-of-fact descriptions. Such language points us toward something, it doesn't define or prove that something in the way fundamentalists often suggest.

I am not strictly referring to "God", either. I am referring to things which we can experience but which we cannot go out and measure physically and reproduce visibly in a controlled experiment. However, there are common experiences which are reproduced on a personal level throughout history. I do not rush to presume what they must or must not mean in a conclusive and final way because I am aware of the limitations in the way we produce, refine, and store knowledge.

Nor am I suggesting different epistemologies for different classes of phenomena or experience. We can use light again as a helpful example. I assume we have all heard the wave-particle duality of light before: if we measure it one way, it acts like a particle. If we measure it another way, it acts like a wave. If someone were to try pin us down - is it a WAVE or is it a PARTICLE?- we would have to say it is both and neither. A literalist would be maddened by that. However, it isn't a reflection of a fault on the part of some aspect of reality, but rather our ability to describe that aspect. Our concepts of wave and particle are not fully adequate - which is why quantum physics has attempted to reconcile the duality, at least partially, by defining such duality as the result of an equation ("wave function"). Yet this is still not fully satisfying and is more predictive and than explanatory. In the same way, there are many experiences we cannot process according to our preconceived notions and categories into plain descriptive language, but instead only partially through myth and metaphor. This doesn't make these experiences "not true" or "not meaningful", but it does mean they can only be fully understood directly, not indirectly.

Someone could suggest this is"watering down the concept of God", but that assumes that Being is only significant in relation to the expectations or descriptions given it by a particular culture's religious language. In some ways, all people are talking about the same "God" and in some ways they are not. This was the subject of a much-borrowed ancient analogy of blindfolded men touching an elephant in the court of the King. Some men touched the legs, and said the elephant was like a tree trunk. Other touches the tail and said it was like a snake. Still others touched the snout, the tusks, or the ears, and came up with their own descriptions. Similarly some touched the sides and said it was smooth, vast, and featureless. Does that mean that if we try to go beyond any one description that we are not exactly talking about the same thing as someone who clings to a view based entirely on one aspect? Yes. Does it mean we are necessarily talking about totally different things? No. Again, it is a matter of the differences in how we relate to Being. So, if one simply talks about the source of the laws of physics, that is fine, but it is like talking about the sides of the elephant. It is not "wrong", just incomplete. The trouble, as always, is that in the absence of other categories in our heads, we intuitively substitute other images and feelings to stand for things that otherwise have no referent. So rather than looking for a literal meaning ("Being is a lover--huh????") , we have to beyond literal to understand the experience to which the imagery is pointing (deep intimacy).

Someone could also suggest this kind of discussion makes the word "God" meaningless. In the exclusivist literalist sense, the word does become meaningless. But what about people who are not exclusive literalists? Nor just because you liberate a word from one tight, narrow little meaning does not then in turn imply that the alternative is that it can mean "anything". That is the same logic used by opponents of gay marriage. Their reasoning is this: if you take away the definition of marriage as a union between a man and a woman, it could mean anything, like a union between a man and a hamster or two women and a sex toy. This is fallacious. A reasonable alternative is available: marriage as the union between two consenting adults. In the same way, a non-fundamentalist view of God is not an arbitrary "anything goes". And the idea/word "God" does still possess value - the term is still a placeholder for a constellation of interrelated experiences and concepts that has no equivalent in our (and many closely affiliated) culture(s).

For a very brief glimpse into other ways of seeing the issue, here is a list of suggested guidelines recommended at an interfaith conference:

The Snowmass Conference's Guidelines for Interreligious Understanding


1. The world religions bear witness to the experience of the Ultimate Reality to which they give various names: Brahman, the Absolute, God, Allah, (the) Great Spirit, the Transcendent.


2. The Ultimate Reality surpasses any name or concept that can be given to It.


3. The Ultimate Reality is the source (ground of being) of all existence.


4. Faith is opening, surrendering, and responding to the Ultimate Reality. This relationship precedes every belief system.


5. The potential for human wholeness -- or in other frames of reference, liberation, self-transcendence, enlightenment, salvation, transforming union, moksha, nirvana, fana -- is present in every human person.


6. The Ultimate Reality may be experienced not only through religious practices but also through nature, art, human relationships and service to others.


7. The differences among belief systems should be presented as facts that distinguish them, not as points of superiority.


8. In the light of the globalization of life and culture now in process, the personal and social ethical principles proposed by the world religions in the past need to be re-thought and re-expressed.


-from Speaking of Silence: Christian and Buddhists on the Contemplative Way by Thomas Keating

If one really wanted to get a better understanding of such ways of knowing and their roots in the sacred traditions of the world, there are many good sources. For these kinds of language issues there is of course the book Dangerous Words by Gary Eberle, and after that an ideal book to start next would be The Mystic Heart by Wayne Teasdale. Probably selected passages from Paul Tillich's writing on ultimate concern would be helpful as well.

Of course all such discussions and philosophies are irrelevant outside of experience. Because religious language, including God-talk, is dynamic. It is understood in the doing, not in the discussing. Just as many people "know" a lot by reading a book on the topic but couldn't actually "do" what they were reading about to save their lives, one cannot make sense of religious and spiritual language without being engaged in what is being discussed.

Interreligious Understanding and the UUA

Consider the principles espoused by the Unitarian Universalist Association...

We, the member congregations of the Unitarian Universalist Association, covenant to affirm and promote:

• Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
• Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;
• A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
• The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;
• The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;
• Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

The living tradition which we share draws from many sources:

• Direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which create and uphold life;
• Words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion and the transforming power of love;
• Wisdom from the world's religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life;
• Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God's love by loving our neighbors as ourselves;
• Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit;
• Spiritual teachings of earth-centered traditions which celebrate the sacred circle of life and instruct us to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature.

Grateful for the religious pluralism which enriches and ennobles our faith, we are inspired to deepen our understanding and expand our vision. As free congregations we enter into this covenant, promising to one another our mutual trust and support.
-from the UUA Principles and Purposes

I recall reading that there was a bit of debate about the bolded portion, especially because of an issue over whether UU congregations should embrace ideas resembling anything like "God". Then there is the issue of whether UU should be a respectful coming together of people of faith in a religiously liberal atmosphere, a synthesis of certain elements from various sacred traditions, or some combination of the two.

Which brings me to a list of guidelines for interreligious understanding I came across a year or two ago and which I contemplate often when considering interfaith issues...

The Snowmass Conference's Guidelines for Interreligious Understanding:
1. The world religions bear witness to the experience of the Ultimate Reality to which they give various names: Brahman, the Absolute, God, Allah, (the) Great Spirit, the Transcendent.
2. The Ultimate Reality surpasses any name or concept that can be given to It.
3. The Ultimate Reality is the source (ground of being) of all existence.
4. Faith is opening, surrendering, and responding to the Ultimate Reality. This relationship precedes every belief system.
5. The potential for human wholeness -- or in other frames of reference, liberation, self-transcendence, enlightenment, salvation, transforming union, moksha, nirvana, fana -- is present in every human person.
6. The Ultimate Reality may be experienced not only through religious practices but also through nature, art, human relationships and service to others.
7. The differences among belief systems should be presented as facts that distinguish them, not as points of superiority.
8. In the light of the globalization of life and culture now in process, the personal and social ethical principles proposed by the world religions in the past need to be re-thought and re-expressed.
-from Speaking of Silence: Christian and Buddhists on the Contemplative Way by Thomas Keating

So, how do you feel about these guidelines? Are they of value to UUism? How important is the integrity of each sacred tradition? Would someone interested in such guidelines be wise to look into UUism?

Consider the way one interprets the narratives of various traditions. I tend to think of them as literature - taking the stories and mythology in the most literal sense misses the point, but so does scrutinizing them for historical accuracy. It's like saying that you can "get" a moving song because it is 100% based on historical events or by examing the meter, the rhythm, the length, etc. I think that overall sacred traditions can be considered in a similar fashion - like a collection of songs or stories in other contexts but with a different intention. Just because you may like Jazz, or Country Western, doesn't mean you don't like everything calling itself Jazz or Country Western. Plus it's possible to like many genres, and artistically to blend or fuse them. Some folks see scared traditions the same way - mix, match, and blend. Then there are some elements that don't really splice as well. If you like The Matrix, Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings, for example, you appreciate them individually, though you may compare themes or characters. But to take footage from each and re-edit it into a new hybrid would lose too much of what is special or interesting about each.

Perhaps then one can appreciate the individual elements of each sacred tradition (whatever the school, denomination, or sect) as a coherent whole, but also value the greater common truths to which they may point.

Interspirituality

"It seems to me that the world's religions are like siblings separated at birth. We've grown up in different neighborhoods, different households, with different songs and stories, traditions and customs. But now we've been reunited, and, having found each other after so many years apart, we look into each other's faces and can see the family resemblance. We're back together again, and it's very good."
--Richard Watts

Before his death in late 2004 from cancer, Brother Wayne Teasdale advocated what he called intermysticism and interspirituality, most notable in the books A Mystic Heart and A Monk In The World. He was fond of citing Thomas Keating and his initiative, the Snowmass Conference, a group made up of single representative from fifteen different religions.
In particular Teasdale promoted their "Guidelines for Interreligious Understanding":

The Snowmass Conference's Guidelines for Interreligious Understanding The world religions bear witness to the experience of the Ultimate Reality to which they give various names: Brahman, the Absolute, God, Allah, (the) Great Spirit, the Transcendent. The Ultimate Reality surpasses any name or concept that can be given to It. The Ultimate Reality is the source (ground of being) of all existence. Faith is opening, surrendering, and responding to the Ultimate Reality. This relationship precedes every belief system. The potential for human wholeness -- or in other frames of reference, liberation, self-transcendence, enlightenment, salvation, transforming union, moksha, nirvana, fana -- is present in every human person. The Ultimate Reality may be experienced not only through religious practices but also through nature, art, human relationships and service to others. The differences among belief systems should be presented as facts that distinguish them, not as points of superiority. In the light of the globalization of life and culture now in process, the personal and social ethical principles proposed by the world religions in the past need to be re-thought and re-expressed. from Speaking of Silence: Christian and Buddhists on the Contemplative Way by Thomas Keating

Do you think they are necessary guidelines? Are they sufficient?