The God of Reflections
I recently posted an article on a Christian
forum looking to form a fellowship of people for who recognise that the spiritual
roots of the ideals of brotherhood run far deeper than tradition. Unsurprisingly,
this article attracted all manner of turbulent souls whose whole purpose seems
to be dedicated to being Trolls for Jesus. The thread was dragged down into the
dark deeps of acrimony, self righteous assertions, theological arrogance, and the
sort of holier-than-thou bull that I was looking to avoid. To be fair, after a
couple of posts folks didn’t bother reading the original message. They
responded with gusto to comments made by others and derailed the thread. I
expected this but I did secretly hope that the unexpected might occur.
This got me thinking about religion, about tradition versus
experience; about the different types of knowing God, the theoretical and the experiential.
I can write here about a kiss, a dinner, a sunset, a flower. I can
write about a cure for an ailment or hot sex, about a car, or swimming. I can,
through writing, create reflections
of that about which I write but no matter how well I write the reflection
will never, ever, ever, be the object reflected. I can write a mouth watering review
of a fabulous meal that I enjoyed but it will not fill your belly. I can tell
you about my beautiful home but it will not keep you warm or the rain from over
your head. And no matter what I write, no matter how well I write it, what I write
will never be more than a reflection, it will always lack that most irreplaceable
of all dimensions, the actual experience that was the inspiration from whence
the reflection was contrived.
We write about our experiences. We reflect on our insights and values
but the things that we write are not co-incidental with the object of our
inquiry. The same holds for religious or spiritual experience. I can write
about God but that which I write is not God, it is only a reflection – even one
seen ‘as through a glass, darkly’. I can write about Jesus but that creation is
merely a reflection and a reflection is never a flawless or replete portrayal,
it always lacks; it is always so much less than. I can take a photo of my
friend but the photo is not my friend. The significance of this fact seems lost
on many religionists.
At best a reflection will possess the aroma of truth, in Christian parlance, will be quickened by the spirit of truth and this spiritual
presence of truth is what lends authenticity to a reflection. However,
theoretical experts confuse reflections with the objects reflected; confound the photo with the friend. They think
that the spirit of truth has somehow become imprisoned in the forms.
Consequently, these manmade creations - these reflections – are seen to be
invested with divine attributes [like infallibility] – in essence they become
totems and the worshippers of these totems, whether they realise it or not, are
idolaters. They are idolaters because they worship, fight for, and would even
sacrifice their fellows to preserve this manmade object of their devotion.
Tradition can never be more than the object and the experience that
inspired it. Tradition can never be more than a reflection. It may be more or
less blessed with the spirit of truth, depending largely on the spiritual
genius of the diarists. But in the hands of the spiritually blind it is no more
than a weapon that divides. The children of God are peace makers, are
forgiving, tolerant, and humble. They strive not with their fellows and look
only to establish unity, for they know: God is unity.
It has always seemed to me that it’s better to have God and no tradition
than to have tradition and no God. The personal experience of knowing God -
experiential knowledge - is infinitely more to be preferred than mere knowledge
about
God - theoretical knowledge. It is an astounding spiritual tragedy that there are
people that are experts in tradition but don’t actually know God. While on the
other hand, marvel of marvels, there are people that actually know God but don’t
know jack about tradition.
This parable best illustrates my point. There was once two people that
grew up in the same town but, as circumstances would have it had never encountered one another. The years fly by and
both end up travelling the world. As Fate would have it the two ended up in a town
on the far side of the world. While out with friends one evening one overhears
the conversation of the other and is electrified with the recognition of ‘HOME’
and strikes up a conversation. They quickly learn that they used frequent the
same places but at slightly different times. They know the same schools and stores; have heard of the same local
heroes. They have never met but they recognise that they both come from the
same place and are heartened to meet a friendly face at the far side of the
world.
Also in the bar, is another person; one that has never visited the
land from whence our two heroes hail. He, likewise, overhears their
conversation and interrupts them saying that he is also familiar with the place
they are from but his accent isn’t the same. He’s heard of the diners and
restaurants but he’s never actually eaten in them. He couldn’t describe the
smell as you walk in the door or the feel of the carpet under your feet or the familiar
smile of greeting the restaurant owner always beams when he welcomes his ‘favourite
regulars’. When the two new found friends dare to correct this self proclaimed expert
he takes offense. He objects: but I have read it, it says so here and here. You
gentlemen must be wrong. You have been away from your home a long time and your
memories must be rusty. Consequently, before long, the two chaps find a way of
departing from this man’s company.
God is a place wherein some grow up and the people that have grown in
God always recognise one another regardless of other incidental factors like traditions,
customs, nationality, gender, or race. They recognise the accent; their
personal familiarity with the nuances of the terrain; the hard knocks doled out
by the town teachers. But there are others and the only God they know is the
God of Reflections, and anyone that has had the experience of living in God can
recognise these people instantly.
