SACRED AND PROFANE

The world is becoming more profane. I don’t think anyone would dispute that. Profanity in language is becoming more and more common, and more and more casual. Even in our entertainment. Even in the mouths of our elected leaders.

And everyone shrugs and accepts it as the way of the world. So don’t get your knickers in a bunch about it.

Now, I grew up in a household where I didn’t hear profanity from my parents. Not even when they were incensed. I remember the day, when I was in junior high school when, in the middle of an angry storm, “damn” slipped out of my father’s mouth. They were very scrupulous about the model of behavior they set before their children.

Years later, I went to graduate school in Austin, Texas at the University of Texas. And discovered that UT and the town had to be the most foul-mouthed place I had ever encountered. (Yes, even more so than Hollywood, when I got there.) I’ll admit that my senses got dulled by the exposure, and my tolerance for profane language went up. Yes, I even allowed it to creep into my own usage, to a (comparatively) mild degree.

But why do we let this happen? Why do we accept it as a matter of course?

I think it is because there has been a terrible loss of the sense of the sacred in our lives. I feel as if there is an underlying attitude that it is ridiculous to hold anything as sacred or holy. And if that is the case, then it doesn’t matter how much excrement we heap on things that displease us.

Because it’s All About Us, isn’t it? What happens to us? What pleases us? What matters to us?

No? Gee, whiz.

Many of the things in the Sermon on the Mount address how we are called to behave toward those with whom we disagree, those who hate us, even are our enemies. And all of those comments from Jesus instruct us to behave well toward them.

God regards all his creatures as sacred. That’s why the “turn the other cheek” is there. That’s why the answer to “Who is my neighbor?” (whom we are called to love as ourselves) is what it is: even those that you despise, or who despise you. Because we are all sacred, not profane.

It doesn’t matter what the other person has done. It doesn’t matter what the other person has said. It doesn’t matter what the other person has done to me, or intends to do to me, or even what he thinks of me.

Everyone lives because God has breathed life into them. And having been given life by God, we are called to treat each person we encounter as being sacred and beloved by God.

Now, I’ll admit that I don’t succeed in behaving that way. I know that. But I will also be the first to admit that I know I should to better than I do, and why. But it disturbs me when I hear people who profess to be Christians (ie, they also claim to be following this standard), who shrug off casual profanity, and also shrug off any insulting behavior by someone they feel has been abused. “The abuser deserved it.” And that’s enough for them. Well, it’s not enough for me. No one, no matter what they’ve been doing, ought to be receiving reciprocal abuse, not from people who claim to be Christians.

But no one really wants to hear that they should treat their enemies, or opponents, or those they dislike, as sacred beings. When what we see, in our mind’s eye, is a pile of crap, why not call it that? Isn’t that being honest? Well, if it is a person, it may be honest, but it is not the complete truth. Because in the eyes of God (and it’s His opinion on this that really matters, not ours), that person is not a pile of crap. That person is a sacred child.

DAYS OF REST

The last month has been a combination of busy activities and vacation time. March and April had been very intense at work and I too two weeks vacation at the beginning of May. But that time off work only began the recovery.

All of which got me to thinking about how we treat weekends and vacations.

My job is full time, five days a week. But come the weekend, I often have activities scheduled that have me running about, meeting people, filling up the hours with “stuff to do.”

What happened to the Day of Rest?

When I was young, my father tended to discourage activity on Sundays. He cultivated a leisruely attitude for that day. Sometimes we would dine out for lunch after church and then go for long drives through the Michigan countryside. He also liked to take naps on Sunday afternoons. But to me, it was just something my father did.

That is, until recently. I’m one who easily stays up week-nights – writing, websurfing. So I go through the week on less then ideal amounts of sleep. A nap on Sundays has become an important catch-up time. for me.

But beyond that, I’ve also come to realize how I sometimes use the activity of Going To Church as a way to avoid facing God. “Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.” Is it holy to attend to the public activity of worship and yet not spend real time with the Lord?

When vacations and weekends become as unrestful as the rest of our life, what good does it do us? Not much. There is a physical and mental reason for securing one day in seven for rest, and for meeting God. When I’m on the regular schedule, I will talk to God. Or more specifically at Him. “Lord, take care of this and that. And watch out for these people, providing for them. And please Lord, can I have a parking spot near the apartment when I get home?” But one has to be at rest, stopped to actually hear Him, to hear His possible responses to all the requests. But if we never stop, will we ever hear Him? Only on those few occasions when He breaks through. What do we miss when we forgo the Day of Rest?

FIFTH DIMENSION AND SIXTH SENSE

I like to speculate on possible spiritual implications of ideas I find in other fields. So when I started reading about the findings of Neurotheological studies (described in “Barriers in the Mind”), I started wondering “what if...?”

What if ... when we lower our mental barriers, when we shut down our perception of spacial distinctions, we gain access to a spiritual dimension? Physics tells us that there are four dimensions: width, height, depth, and time. What if there is another that overlays these? Something that is either outside time, or encompasses time? That is actually how many define Eternity.

So, then, what if we have an inherent perception of that dimension? What if we have a special sense, like hearing or taste or scent, that lets us perceive things of that spiritual dimension. What would we call that? What would it be like?

Okay, I confess. I don’t really think this is entirely speculative. These definitions address experiences that I have had that do not fit strictly logical, scientifically observable occurences.

There have been times when I have intuited something about another person, something that I could not possibly know through direct observation or mere psychological understanding. The only way I have been able to explain or understand it for myself has been that I have a perception of something on a spiritual level.

Several years ago, I was at a retreat with a fellowship group I belong to. On the Saturday of the retreat, a couple arrived who had been absent for many months prior. They had a young, growing family, and so had not been able to attend the regular meetings. But they made an effort to get to the retreat, even if it meant arriving halfway into the weekend. I happened to observe the husband from across the dining hall (they arrived during lunch). Something caught my attention. When he was talking with others (including his wife), his face was lively and he was obviously enjoying the moment. But when the attention of those around him went elsewhere for a moment, something happened. Some minute falling of the expression. It was not very much at all. And yet, I had a very strong sense that something very heavy and dark was weighing on him.

I was conscious of it all afternoon. That evening, the fellowship broke up into small groups for discussion and prayer. And I happened to be in the same small group as this couple. The discussion of the topic went well. And then the circle prayed together. I had had this continuing sense of something weighing on my friend, but still hadn’t had a chance to actually talk to him about it, to ask about it.

So there I was praying with one part of my mind, while the other part was going “I have to talk to him when we’re done.” Being in the prayerful state, I was even more conscious of the darkness clinging to my friend. Suddenly, I realized a very simple thing. We don’t really have to know every little detail when we’re praying for others. All we have to do is be open, and whole-heartedly seeking the Lord’s presence.
So, when my turn to pray aloud came round, I said something to the effect of “Lord, I know that something is weighing heavily on Jay. And You also know what it is. Lift up his heart and let him know that he does not need to face it alone.”

When our prayers ended and we looked at each other, he was staring at me with a sort of astonishment. His wife looked at him, and asked “What she prayed, was she right?” He said yes. He had a concern about his family that he had not spoken of, not even to his wife. (And yes, the prayer did have a positive effect for him.)

I’ve often thought about this occasion. Because the amount of knowledge I have of his condition seemed very disproportionate for the objective observation of a slightly fallen expression. I’ve come to the conclusion that we let down mental barriers around those we genuinely care about. We don’t make a distinction between where we end spiritually and someone else begins. And so we are more sensitive to their spiritual state, as I was with my friend Jay.

I sometimes wonder what would happen if we could achieve this state more often. If we reached out with a sixth sense into that fifth dimension. What might we learn? What might our prayers bring?