The Lord Our God, The Lord Is One: Can we truly say Jesus is God?

Many leaders today lord their authority over others and demand honor and glory for themselves, their way of life or their beliefs. They may not claim to be gods per se, but their expectations reveal a long history of this tradition, from the times when Kings and Caesars claimed to be gods. Jews and Muslims believe that proclaiming a human being as God is idolatrous and blasphemous. Yet, Christians revere Jesus as God. Is this idolatrous? Is this blasphemous? Jesus called us to follow him to the glory of the living God, Abba Father, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. He describes the Father as greater than himself:

“You heard me say, ‘I am going away and I am coming back to you.’ If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I.” (John 14:25-28) 

Raised a Christian, I come wrestling, wondering if Jesus isn’t God as many Christians describe him...I acknowledge that my limited understanding prevents me from fully understanding the mystery of God’s work in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. I fully recognise Isaiah’s words: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord” (Isaiah 55:8). But, this is a matter I wrestle with.

Glorifying God

There is a vivid description of the death of a king Herod in Acts who demanded to be considered as a god by the people:

The people kept shouting, “The voice of a god, and not of a mortal!” And immediately, because he had not given glory to God, an angel of the Lord struck him down, and he was eaten by worms and died. (Acts 12:22)

If Jesus rose to fame in the United States today, working miracles and healing the sick, would we praise him or give glory to God? Jesus said he came to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. So, what did the lost sheep of Israel do when Jesus rose to fame? They did not glorify him as a god or as God. They did not carve images of him to worship or demand that others recognize him as God, but rather they gave glory to the God of Israel. It is a unique people who can receive the love of God given through one who humbly serves God, and not glorify that individual person, but instead glorify the Holy One who sent him. Here are just a few examples:

Matthew 15:31
The people were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled made well, the lame walking and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel. 

Luke 5:26
Amazement seized all of them, and they glorified God and were filled with awe, saying, “We have seen strange things today.” 

Luke 7:16
Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has risen among us!” and “God has looked favorably on his people!” 

Mark 2:12
He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all. This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, "We have never seen anything like this!" 

Luke 2:20
The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. 

Matthew 9:8
But when the crowds saw this, they were awestruck, and glorified God, who had given such authority to men. 

Luke 13:13
Then he put his hands on her, and immediately she straightened up and praised God. 

Luke 17:18
Jesus asked, “Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?" 

Luke 18:43
Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus, praising God. When all the people saw it, they also praised God.

Drawn by the Father

Jesus did not seek his own glory. He constantly redirected people’s questions about his miracles and works to the Father and his being sent by the Father. The living God is the God that Jesus obeyed and served and glorified. I don’t believe that he was attempting to start a new religion. Rooted in his tradition, Jesus said, “Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish but to fulfill” (Matthew 5:17). These days, a Gentile version of Christianity is fully ingrained in dominant culture (as opposed to the early church described in Acts). This popular version of Christianity seems to be focused on convincing people to “convert,” proclaiming Jesus as God and having the correct religion. However, emphasizing Jesus’ teachings about being one who serves and giving glory to God is often missed in this equation. Did Jesus come for his own glory or for Christianity’s glory or for the glory of the church? In all that Jesus did, he gave glory to God. Perhaps, he wanted to show GOD’s love to the world and to teach us to serve one another.

Of course, this issue is woven throughout the New Testament as people struggled to understand Jesus and his work more clearly. During Jesus’ life, many people were confused about his relationship to God. The Gospel of John describes this:

They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. (John 6:42-45)

In the face of this line of questioning, Jesus once again directs his listeners back to glorify God. He does not glorify himself. He says that if we come to him, we must be drawn to him by the Father and that all people shall be taught by God.

No one can say, “Jesus is Lord...”

During his life, there were those who were offended by Jesus’ claims about his relationship with God and wanted him killed for blasphemy. But, there were also those who tried to praise him alone and make him a king, against his wishes. Jesus humbly did not seek glory or praise from others. Certainly, he received glory. By giving glory to God, Jesus received glory from God. But, Jesus taught that the glory he received came from above, not from the world or from us. Most importantly for us, he sought to give away even this glory he received from God. Jesus prayed, 

The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. (John 17:22-23)

In all things, we are called to glorify God. We are called to be one with God. So, if we do proclaim Jesus as Messiah and Lord, we should not do it from our need to glorify ourselves, our religion, or from our human understanding of God’s ways. If we claim Jesus is Lord, we should only do it if drawn to him by God, and proclaim him as Lord only if we are led by the Holy Spirit. In Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, he writes: “...and no one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:3). In following Jesus as Lord, we seek to give glory to God who is above all and through all and in all.

There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. (Ephesians 4:4-6)

Miscarriage

Just as you do not know how the life breath enters the human frame in the mother's womb, So you do not know the work of God who is working in everything.

Ecclesiastes 11:5

The Architect and the Bee

The blood. The cramping. The physical manifestation of loss. A week long daily reminder that I was pregnant and lost. Other reminders hit unexpectedly - a pregnant woman walking in the neighborhood or a friend excitedly announces their baby is due August, or now, December. The first time I miscarried, I thought, “This is very common. Just get through this, you’ll get pregnant again, keep trying, you’ll be fine.” That was the narrative I told myself and it worked; I got pregnant again. With a cruel twist in the story, I miscarried a second time. And now...the blood. The cramping. The constant reminder of loss.

Although my body may have gone about the biological business of constructing cells and wiping out the imperfections in a bloody outpouring, I was an architect. Philosopher Hilde Lindemann writes that the purely biological view of pregnancy diminishes a woman’s agency. This view sees the woman as a flower pot, an incubator or a passive receptacle (82). Lindemann brings to mind Marx’s creative architect and the bee. To quote Marx:

“A spider conducts operations that resemble those of a weaver, and a bee puts to shame many an architect in the construction of her cells. But what distinguishes the worst of architects from the best of bees is this, that the architect raises his structure in imagination before he erects it in reality.”

I raised in my imagination a child before she became a reality and took steps to prepare for her. Yes, I called the fetus into personhood (84). I began to prepare physical space for her, and social space in my family and wider community. I nurtured her in my body with what I ate and by taking care, and in my mind with dreams for her and through sharing plans with my partner. In imaginative projection, I lived as if this plus sign on a stick was becoming the born child I hoped she would be. The metaphor of the architect and the bee can highlight ranging perspectives of internal and external locus of control in the face of miscarriage. The stories of loss around this event certainly range in diversity from person to person. But, miscarriage can often lead to loss of agency and of connection - to the future, to self, to others, and to the world.

Ask, Seek, Knock

In an egotistical society, we are taught that we alone can control the good and bad that come to us. In that setting, how does one account for good that comes unexpectedly, or for sudden tragedy and loss? The opposite is believing that we are pawns to the whims of the gods. In that setting, personal accountability and hope for change is lost. Yet, the biblical words give a different take on these polar extremes. We are given Job who says, “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” (Job 2:10). We are given the poetry of King David, “Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4). And in the New Testament, we are given Jesus’ teaching, “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you” (Matthew 7:7). Taken together with many other similar biblical sayings, these messages give a new more realistic context for both internal and external locus of control. We are not gods; we cannot control every event in our lives. But, we also do not need to be pawns subject to the intractable whims of destiny or fate. We can become the imaginative architects (earthly priests) in relationship with the Architect of the universe (the Most High), the One who sees and hears. Hagar, the Egyptian slave woman, became the first person to name God in the narrative of the Hebrew Bible. Hagar named the Lord, “El­-roi” t​he God who sees me.​ Faith can give comfort in our despair and a voice in the direction of our lives.

The words of Lamentations set the stage: “Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that good and bad come?” (Lamentations 3:38). The women of the Bible fill the stage with life, complexity and a story. They are the architects imagining new beginnings in relationship with the Most High, calling new lives into being despite their situations of time and place. The Bible is packed full of women experiencing life with all it’s heartache, injustice, and harms. In their book, Jews and Words Oz-Salzberger and Oz (a father, daughter pair) write about the women of the Bible:

They do not follow the Greek pattern—either goddess or mortal heroine. They do not follow the medieval pattern—either saint or prostitute. They do not follow the European pattern—aristocracy, bourgeoisie, or lower class. They do not follow the British pattern—upstairs or downstairs—although their tents are sometimes as intricate as a manor house. The Bible’s women are so variegated that they simply inhabit a full human spectrum. (70-71)

The stories of these women bring comfort. They inhabit the full human spectrum set amidst poetic and prophetic words and they give us a glimpse into knowing God, the God who sees me.

In our patriarchal society and religions, the male voice is most often heard; the male experience is known. Our genderless God is usually described as “He”. In Judaism and Christianity, the living God is signaled by naming “the God of [the forefathers] Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.” However, I’m interested in the ways that the (albeit patriarchal) stories speak to women and the marginalized. I’m fascinated by the ways women in these stories respond to their situations, resist oppression and deal with heartache. To approach the Bible in this way is to see it from the vantage of the marginalized. We are socialized in our western culture to elevate wealth, prosperity, men, Christianity, health, perfection, and “normalcy” above all else. When I approach the Bible from the perspective of the poor, of women, of the outcast and of the non-dominant groups, I see a different story. Listening to these groups, I meet people who have ears to hear and eyes to see the written words of scripture. I come across those who do not have other god’s before the Lord God, the One who frees the slave. I watch as the proud are humbled, and the humbled exalted. The Lord is creating something new on earth. As the prophet Jeremiah states with ambiguous meaning, but entirely intriguing: “For the Lord has created a new thing on the earth; a woman encompasses a man” (31:22). In many ways, the stories in the Bible show the Lord resists dominant social norms and patriarchy, even as they reveal the patriarchal societies they came from.

In a world that venerates fecundity, what kind of holy scripture has this sort of verse:

Sing, O barren one who did not bear;

burst into song and shout,

you who have not been in labor!

Isaiah 54:1

This grabs my attention. The founding mothers of these strange prophetic words also grab my attention. It is written: “Now Sarai was barren; she had no child” (Genesis 11:30)...“Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife [Rebekah], because she was barren” (Genesis 25:21). “...but Rachel was barren” (Genesis 29:31). In the Bible, our heroines are not fertile goddesses. Our heroines are barren. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are husbands of women who cannot have children. This means something significant written in an ancient civilization that was as least as anxious about infertility as we are, probably much more. Yet, these are the barren women through whom God chose to bring about something new on earth. These stories move us away from the cycles of birth and death venerated by many other ancient religions in the near east at the time. They also move us away from the image of the “perfect” woman venerated by media and western culture. This story begins with women who are empty, fruitless and barren with hope for something radically new to come - children as numerous as the stars and becoming blessings to all the nations on the earth. Throughout the Bible, there are countless heroines who do not or cannot have children. The end of their stories vary from person to person, and the outcome of my story is yet to be seen. But, something new is being created here and, in my sorrow, I am all ears.

Connection

Maybe we aren’t just imaginative architects executing an preconceived design. Perhaps, we are imaginative storytellers deeply connected to those who hear and see, and co-authors of the story of our lives. Our actions, our prayers and our participation in life give us locus of control. Miscarriage has become a part of my story but is not the end. This dry, barren, sorrowful part of my story will become the soil for new seeds being planted. It also connects me to women’s stories of the past and creates fertile ground for greater connection with others who suffer in this way.

At a local Jewish temple, on the donation box for the food pantry for the poor and homeless, these words are inscribed: We give thanks to God for bread, But for those who are hungry, WE must help provide instead. This struck me as a great example of a healthy locus of control. Give glory to God for all things (shall we give glory to God only for the good?). But, for those around us in need, WE must provide the help instead. We are called to action in connecting with others. Isaiah calls us to loose the bonds of injustice, to set the oppressed free and to share with the hungry and homeless. In Isaiah, it is written: 

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly...Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer (Isaiah 58:8-9). 

Connect to others in this way and your light will break forth like the dawn. This perspective connects us to ourselves, to others, to the world and God. It gives us agency in times of loss. Just as I do not know how the life breath enters the human frame, I do not know the work of God working in everything. But, perhaps, the story of our lives together may testify to the work of God who is working in everything.


Works Cited:

Lindemann, H. “MIscarriage and the Stories We Live By.” JOURNAL of SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY, Vol. 46 No. 1, Spring 2015, 80–90.

Oz, Amos, and Fania Oz-Salzberger. Jews and Words. Yale University Press, 2014

There Shall Be No Strange God in Thee (Psalm 81:9)

One can observe among “believers” that there is an aching lack of right living and plentiful examples of hypocrisy. My partner says, “Religion is a net negative in the world.” Many “believers” do not seem to be living up to their own ideals within themselves or in their own lives, but lavish judgment on others - often using scripture to justify themselves. This leads many sensible people to reject religion, the Bible and ultimately God.

I would argue, though, that it is not God or the belief in God that is the problem. It is not even religion exactly. The problem lies in the elevation of something other than God as supreme - a thing, a force, a person, a group, an institution or an ideal.  

Where the soul may be kindled in holiness

Today, religion in it’s many forms appears to be irrelevant, dull, and oppressive. Non-religious types look to religion and see that it’s message has become meaningless. They can see that for many, faith has been completely replaced by creed. Worship has been replaced by discipline. Love has been replaced by habit. Abraham Heschel (1976) writes,

Religion declined not because it was refuted, but because it became irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid. When faith is completely replaced by creed, worship by discipline, love by habit; when the crisis of today is ignored because of the splendor of the past; when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a living fountain; when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than with the voice of compassion -- it’s message becomes meaningless (p. 3). 

Atheists understandably reject religion, not because it has been refuted, but because religion has ceased to be a living fountain and has become meaningless. In this way, religion has become a way of satisfying human needs - it is not God whom the religious person serves, but themselves. If the end goal is to satisfy our human needs, one does not need religion - civilization should suffice. There are plenty of ways to gratify our human needs within civilization. Alain deBotton has an interesting TED talk, http://on.ted.com/deBotton, which highlights this point. Truly, if one is to choose a means to the end for the satisfaction of human needs alone, religion is not the way.  

Religion has also been distorted into a meaningless institution because some have elevated it as supreme.

We must not regard any human institution or object as being an end in itself. Man’s achievements in this world are but attempts, and a temple that comes to mean more than a reminder of the living God is an abomination.  What is an idol? A thing, a force, a person, a group, an institution or an ideal, regarded as supreme. God alone is supreme (p. 415).

Religion is only to be a reminder of the living God. Religion is to be a place where faith can become a living fountain. Religion is to be a voice of compassion. “When superimposed as a yoke, as a dogma, as a fear, religion tends to violate rather than to nurture the spirit of man. Religion must be an altar upon which the fire of the soul may be kindled in holiness” (p. 317). When we recognize that religion is an altar, we are able to enter into religious space but also distinguish from those whose actions cause religion to be a negative institution in the world. When religion is seen as an altar, we are also able to come to read the sacred texts in new ways. 

The Bible is a seed

Greek philosophy is a major foundation of western culture. We are shaped by the foundations of Greek thought in ways that we may not realize. Our understanding of religion, the Bible and God are influenced by our cultural history - we have both Greek and Jewish history embedded in our culture among others. When the ideas between these two histories clash or don’t fit or make sense, we have to discern. However, Greek philosophy and the history of the Jewish people do have to be competing world views - where one will ultimately prove the other wrong. Where Greek philosophy has its strengths in leading us to appreciating the realm of science and space, it leaves us wanting in the matters of theology and the soul. Where Jewish history provides the people of the world with the light of truth, with seeds of eternity, it does not much speak to the world of science. We cannot pit science against religion.

It was the glory of Greece to have discovered the idea of cosmos, the world of space; it was the achievement of Israel to have experienced history, the world of time. Judaism claims that time is exceedingly relevant. Elusive as it may be, it is pregnant with the seeds of eternity (p. 206).  

Moments in history when God reveals are sacred moments in time. Time itself is exceedingly relevant. Moments in our own lives testify that time is more than a simple ticking clock or a mathematical understanding of the space-time continuum. 

While science has brought great understanding of our physical world, the Greek concepts of Fortune and Destiny have also pervaded western culture. The media fills our minds with stories of fate and fortune, but there are Biblical words that plant within us a different story. The biblical understanding does not reveal a god of fate and fortune; the biblical understanding reveals a God of truth (Isaiah 65). 

The theology of fate knows only a one-sided dependence upon the ultimate power. That power has neither concern for man nor need of him. History runs its course as a monologue. To Jewish religion, on the other hand, history is determined by the covenant: God is in need of man. (p. 68). 

One can reject a theology where there is only a one-sided dependence upon the ultimate power. But, this does not mean we must reject all theology. We must reject false images of God, but this does not mean we must reject God. 

Naturally, our understanding of the bible is influenced by our culture. Many want to read the bible as we read scientific textbooks or as a detailed and factual historical account. Surely, much of the bible reveals the history of a people, but we must not forget that “...decisive is that which happened between God and the prophet rather than that which happened between the prophet and the parchment” (p. 258). Recognize that something unique happened in time, in the history of the people of Israel, in God’s reaching out to mankind. This unique happening through time is recorded on the parchment - it does not mean that the parchment is what is decisive. 

When we read the bible in ways it was never intended, we will be disappointed and can even harm others. Just as the cruelty in humans can lead to the misuse and destruction of the material world, the cruelty of humans can lead to the misuse of the words of the bible. Yet, we do not deny the good of the material world just because some people choose to abuse the materials available to them by creating weapons. So, we also cannot deny the value of the words in the bible just because some abuse and misuse them. When we allow the words to touch our minds and our hearts in authentic ways, we no longer box people into dead and harmful interpretations of the sacred words. We are then able to bring forth new understanding and new realization. 

The Bible is a seed, God is the sun, but we are the soil. Every generation is expected to bring forth new understanding and new realization (p. 274). 

The material world is magnificent, inspiring and awesome. The Lord that created the material world is at work in the realm of history as well. “The spirit of His creative power brought the material world into being; the spirit of His revealing power brought the Bible into being” (p. 181). The stories and words of the bible plant seeds in our minds and in our souls and the fruit that comes forth will be new. 

God Alone is Supreme

The words of Abraham Heschel show us how religion is the altar where the fire of the soul may be kindled in holiness. The Bible is a seed; we are the soil; God is the light of the earth. Important to remember that an idol is a thing, a force, a person, a group, an institution or an ideal regarded as supreme. We know that God alone is supreme and we will make no image of God. So, we may wonder, where is God? What does God do? What happens to us when God reigns supreme? 

God Dwells in Darkness

Once we get rid of false notions of the divine, we may wonder where is God? The bible has said that God dwells in the darkness, in mystery, in a cloud. But, beyond the deep darkness is light. Heschel writes: 

“Deep darkness" (‘arafel) is where God dwells...But beyond the mystery is meaning, beyond "the deep darkness" is light, this is why Moses was able to draw near "to the deep darkness where God was," able to enter "the cloud" (Exodus 20:21; 24:18). (Heschel, p. 193)

In a time where we seek scientific proofs, concrete answers and hard facts it may be difficult to grasp that the ultimate is not there for us to examine at will. The ultimate is shrouded in deep darkness. 

Yet, God has made himself known at moments in time. These moments have shown that we cannot know God in the way that we examine an unknown objects from above or in the way we formulate theories after peering into the sky from below. 

Israel did not discover God. Israel was discovered by God. Judaism is God’s quest for man...[Being chosen] signifies not a quality inherent in the people but a relationship between the people and God (p. 425-6).  

History has shown that God desires a relationship with us. And if God is living as the prophets say that he is, then surely God plays a part in our attempts of trying to understand him. Knowing and understanding God depends not only on our readiness to approach Him, but also on God’s willingness to be approached (p. 128). As in relationships with one another, we cannot love without vulnerability. Vulnerability entails allowing oneself to be fully known - with flaws, wrong-doing, and mess-ups. “God-awareness is not an act of God being known to man; it is the awareness of man’s being known by God.” (p. 160). To be fully known by God means to be vulnerable to Him. This type of God-awareness can open us up to acting in ways inspired and led by Him - not by ourselves but in relationship with Him. 

There are also those who seek to know and understand God. Mystics seek God and desire transcendental experiences. But, moments in history have shown that God reaches out to us. These moments are contingent upon the initiative of God and mark an event in the life of God when we respond. Heschel explains:

The mystic experience is man’s turning toward God; the prophetic act is God’s turning toward man. The former is first of all an event in the life of man, contingent upon the aspiration and initiative of man; the latter is first of all an event in the life of God, contingent upon the pathos and initiative of God. From the mystic experience we may gain an insight of man into the life of God; from the prophetic act we learn of an insight of God into the life of man (p. 198). 

This profound understanding of the prophetic act highlights the very sacredness of these moments in history. It also makes a distinction - that there are those who may seek to understand God more fully, but there are also those to whom God chooses to reveal himself more fully to. 

Interesting that often the people God chooses are acutely aware of their unworthiness to His tasks. The prophet Jeremiah said, “I do not know how to speak; I am too young.” And the Lord says, “Do not say, ‘I am too young.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you…” (Jeremiah 1:5-8)  And Jesus said, “Abba, Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” (Mark 14:36) And Moses protested a number of times when God reached out to him. He said, “Who am I to appear before Pharaoh? Who am I to lead the people of Israel out of Egypt?” (Exodus 3:11) This honest humility in the presence of the living God who is supreme is strikingly unlike those who claim to know, but do not know. It also gives us a glimpse into the moments of what happens when God makes himself known to us. 

A Revealer of Mystery, the Light Dwells with Him

Although we are taught that God dwells in the cloud, in deep darkness (‘arafel), we must not confuse God for the mystery. 

God is a mystery, but the mystery is not God. He is a revealer of mysteries (Daniel 2:47). He reveals deep and mysterious things; He knows what is in the darkness and the light dwells with Him (p. 66). 

God is a revealer of mysteries. God is a verb - full of love and compassion. Beyond the darkness is the light which dwells with him. This light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. 

There are parts of God’s self that he allows to be known to us. Heschel writes: 

When in response to Moses’ request, the Lord appeared to tell him what He is, did He say: I am the all-wise, the perfect, and of infinite beauty? He did say: I am full of love and compassion. Where in the history of religion prior to the age of Moses, was the Supreme Being celebrated for His being sensitive to the suffering of men? (p. 67)

God is full of love and compassion. This is unlike other false notions that reign supreme for some. As this reality sets in our hearts and minds and through our experiences, we must continue to reject false definitions of the divine given to us by culture. 

We must also be alert to the vanities of living which can block out the divine light. “‘Just as a small coin held over the face can block out the sight of a mountain, so can the vanities of living block out the sight of infinite light” (p. 85). Selfish interests can block out the divine light and suffocate the soul. 

Selfishness only Holiness can Ventilate

My partner says that hypocrisy and judgment are key reasons why he does not like religion - but he is primarily talking about Christianity. When religious people judge others, they are reigning their own ideas as supreme. I would argue that you can find hypocritical and judgmental people within and outside of religion. Whether we are religious or not, selfish interests and allowing our own ideas or institutions reign supreme, cause us to implode upon ourselves. “Selfish interests are centripetal; freedom from selfish interests is centrifugal, a turning away from the self” (p. 397). We are not free when we are consumed with selfish desires. 

Despite my own inclinations, I believe this includes our desires to be godly as well. “Godly” selfish interests are centripetal, too.  

The world needs more than the secret holiness of individual inwardness. It needs more than sacred sentiments and good intentions. God asks for the heart because He needs the lives. It is by lives that the world will be redeemed, by lives that beat in concordance with God, by deeds that outbeat the finite charity of the human heart (p. 296).  

When we give our lives (not just our secret individual inwardness) to God and, in turn, love the people around us, we become free. We can overcome finite charity of the human heart and the vanities of living that block out the light. This means laying our lives down just as we are today. 

We each know our own shortcomings better than anyone else (and certainly better than we know anyone else’s). To give our lives does not mean we must be perfect. In fact, “To be contrite in our failures is holier than to be complacent in perfection” (p. 403). Perfection is another potentially false idea that suffocates us when it reigns supreme. Love, joy, peace, selflessness, generosity, loving-kindness...these are centrifugal; these are freedom from selfish interests and come when we lay down our lives and love others. But, what does it mean to “give our lives” or to “lay down our life”? “The Hebrew word for the verb to sacrifice means literally to come near, to approach. Our task is not to renounce life but to bring it close to Him” (p. 399). We are not called to despise ourselves and love others. We are called to love others as ourselves. Saying this in another way through the words of Isaiah, the prophet - With joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation (Isaiah 12:3).

In our culture, individualism, consumerism and achievement are a few ideals that reign supreme. In our selves, there are drives, passions and needs that we must choose how to fulfill. In our humanity, there is a great need for redemption. 

Yet we have finally discovered what the prophets and saints have always known: bread and power alone will not save humanity. There is a passion and drive for cruel deeds which only the awe and fear of God can soothe; there is a suffocating selfishness in man which only holiness can ventilate (p. 169).

Although individualism, consumerism and achievement bring us “bread and power” they will not redeem humanity - they will not orient us centrifugally or give us those gifts that fulfill our deepest needs and desires. We are called to lay down our lives so that we may truly live. We are called to be holy, because the one who called us is holy.  

Freedom, Faith, and Truth

We must acknowledge that there is a drive for cruel deeds and a suffocating selfishness within people that needs to be faced. Yet, in spite of this drive and in spite of the suffering on earth, we must remember that the world is not all danger. Man is not alone. We are free, but we are not abandoned. We are free, but we will not be lost. We are free, yet God’s honor is upon our faith. Heschel writes,

The world is not all danger, and man is not alone. God endowed man with freedom, and He will share in our use of freedom. The earth is the Lord’s, and God is in search of man. He endowed man with power to conquer the earth, and His honor is upon our faith. (p. 286). 

Observing the darkness of cruelty and suffering on the earth, one may wonder how a good God could exist here. One may especially wonder how a good God can be creator and create the earth as we see it. Yet, human freedom (which we cherish) and the creative spirit are linked. Creation means freedom, and we are intended to be free. While we may receive messages from the history of our culture about fate/destiny, biblical narrative gives us a different perspective. 

The ultimate concept in Greek philosophy is the idea of cosmos, of order; the first teaching in the Bible is the idea of creation. Translated into eternal principles, cosmos means fate, while creation means freedom (p. 412).

In rejecting gods of fate, destiny and fortune, we can begin to accept the God of truth as supreme. In truth there is freedom. And while the idea of the cosmos leads us to believing in a predetermined course of events, the idea of creation reveals a truth about the freedom bestowed upon us. 

Yet, when we choose to reign our own ideas, people, forces, institutions or things as supreme, we surrender our freedom. When (in truth) we choose to have what is meant to reign supreme reign as supreme in our lives, we will inherit the freedom intended for us. But, when (in turning from the truth) we choose to allow something false reign as supreme over our lives, we lose our freedom. We are free in this choice, but we are not free from making the choice. We are compelled to choose. This can be expanded and more eloquently explained: 

Man is free to act in freedom and free to forfeit freedom. In choosing evil he surrenders his attachment to the spirit and forgoes the opportunity to let freedom happen. Thus we may be free in employing or ignoring freedom; we are not free in having freedom. We are free to choose between good and evil; we are not free in having to choose. We are in fact compelled to choose. Thus all freedom is a situation of God’s waiting for man to choose (p. 412).

When we choose to act in freedom (and refuse to forfeit freedom), we remain attached to the spirit and let freedom happen. We become authentic versions of ourselves. We become willing to be vulnerable (Vulnerability is the birthplace of creativity - Brene Brown). When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, and in humility and in truth choose to let the living God reign supreme, we are in partial fulfillment of being completely free and creative souls. “Whatever we do is only a partial fulfillment; the rest is completed by God” (p. 406). We cannot accomplish right living without God. 

Yet, we have all too often seen that those who claim that God reigns supreme actually seem to force their will and their ideals upon others. We do not choose freedom, and then become arrogant. We do not choose freedom, then become self-serving. We do not choose freedom, then become judgmental. If this is us, though we may claim to have chosen freedom, clearly something false is reigning supreme. Yet, there is still hope. “The evil urge does not spell doom; it can be integrated in the service of God” (p. 415). A Talmudic saying is, “The seal of God is truth.” If you are looking to know those who reign God as supreme, remember that by their fruit you shall know them. It is said that the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. 

Testimony. Stories. Life events. These are the very epicenter of the truth of our lives. We cannot know God if we only study ideas about God and never incorporate the moments of faith in our lives into our ideas of faith. “Ideas of faith must not be studied in total separation from the moments of faith” (p. 8). Moments of faith occur and can transform a life. Ideas of faith can be studied for years and make little impact on the way a person lives. These two cannot be separated. They are connected. Moments of faith occur in a private, quiet place in our hearts, minds and souls. We can nurture these moments or shut them down. We are looking forward to a time when the ideas of faith harmonize with our lived experience of faith.

I have tried to explain to my sisters, in not so many words, how the altar of religion has kindled a fire in my soul, how the seeds of the bible have found their way into the soil of my heart, and how I see now that God must reign supreme in our lives. It is this experience that inspires me to right living. It is this experience that moves me to joy. It is this experience that has led me to turn my life in a new direction. “[People] have often tried to give accounts of why they must believe that God exists. Such accounts are like ripe fruit we gather from the trees. Yet it is beyond all reasons, beneath the ground, where a seed starts to become a tree, that the act of faith takes place” (p. 138). People may not feel able to accurately share with our partners or sisters or brothers or friends why we must believe that God exists. But, beyond all reasons, beneath the ground, an act of faith takes place. We are slowly (like giving birth) moving toward a place where we hope the psalm may be true for us - that “there shall be no strange god within thee.”

Concluding remarks

The words newly written above cannot match the wisdom and profundity of those of Abraham Heschel who I’ve quoted throughout this paper. Heschel was inspired by the Hebrew Bible and through his experience of letting God reign supreme. He gives this final quote as a summary which rings true for me with a perfect pitch:   

There are no words in the world more knowing, more disclosing and more indispensable, words both stern and graceful, heart-rending and healing. A truth so universal: God is One. A thought so consoling: He is with us in distress. A responsibility so overwhelming: His name can be desecrated. A map of time: from creation to redemption. Guideposts along the way: the Seventh Day. An offering: contrition of the heart. A utopia: would that all people were prophets. The insight: man lives by his faithfulness; his home is in time and his substance in deeds. A standard so bold: ye shall be holy. A commandment so daring: love thy neighbor as thyself. A fact so sublime: human and divine pathos can be in accord. And a gift so undeserved: the ability to repent (p. 239). 

(Heschel, Abraham. God in Search of Man. New York: Farrar, Straus and Girou, 1976. Print.)