Can Lutherans be Reincarnated?

Okay. I'm not one for living a life of danger. I don't sky dive or bungee jump or race motorcycles. The most dangerous thing I can do is flirt with a little heresy every now and then. So here goes:

Some weeks ago, Carol, a faithful member of my congregation, asked me if I'd be willing to read Dr. Brian L. Weiss' book Many Lives, Many Masters. The book is subtitled, "The True Story of a Prominent Psychiatrist, His Young Patient, and the Past-Life Therapy That Changed Both Their Lives." I told Carol I'd be willing to give it a look, and she graciously dropped off a copy at my office. I actually found it rather enjoyable. Dr. Weiss has a smooth writing style, and the book reads like a novel. It does beg the question, "Can a Christian believe in reincarnation?"

To Dr. Weiss' credit, he makes a very compelling argument for the transmigration of souls. I won't detail his evidence here, but if you click on his name (Brian L. Weiss, MD) you can learn all about him and his books. What I personally found most interesting was his assertion that some of the early Christian fathers seemed to believe in the doctrine of reincarnation. Weiss sites Origen, Clement of Alexandria, and Jerome as proponents of past-life experiences.

By the sixth century, however, reincarnation was pretty much denounced as heresy by the Church. This was chiefly because the notion that we gain wisdom and salvation through the accumulated experiences of past lives seems to undercut the fundamental Christian doctrine of total salvation through the atonement of Christ on the cross. As a Lutheran, however, I can't resist mentioning that the Roman Catholic Church's doctrine of purgatory seems to do precisely the same thing. I guess none of those sixth century churchmen noticed that!

If you're interested in the intersection of Christian doctrine and reincarnation, I suggest you take a look at the Reluctant Messenger website. The author does a very thorough job of detailing the evidence linking Christianity to reincarnation as well as  the Church's objections to this belief.

Now here's what your Old Religious Guy thinks:

I felt a tremendous amount of joy and comfort reading Dr. Weiss' book. Whether reincarnation is true or not, we cannot write or discuss the transmigration of the soul unless we first believe in the concept of the soul. What do I mean when I use the word "soul?" I mean that I believe in a personal consciousness which is informed by our physical selves but not bound by our physical reality. Please note, I do not subscribe to the ancient Manichaean heresy that body and soul are separate and opposite elements. I believe in a divine interconnectedness between our consciousness and our bodies; however, I also believe that consciousness--like all energy forces in the universe--can neither be created nor destroyed. It is eternal, and will survive once our material bodies have changed their form.

Did any of that make sense?

In short, I believe in eternity, or, as we say in our Creed, in "the life everlasting." Dr. Weiss' book highlights the very positive reaction people in this life have once they become aware of their eternal selves. So good job, Doc!

Of course, in reading Many Lives, Many Masters, one may become skeptical about exactly what Dr. Weiss' hypnotized patients were really experiencing when they recounted past-life experiences. Do I think the book presents 100% irrefutable evidence for reincarnation? I'm afraid I can't say yes to this. Perhaps the patients were tapping powerful but previously untapped creative potential within their own brains? Or, perhaps they were connecting to the accumulated wisdom of all souls? Maybe they were demonstrating, as John Steinbeck said, that there is "one big soul that ever'body's part of?"

But who the heck am I to judge?

Maybe in some past life I was a Navajo princess or a Lithuanian pig farmer. Who knows? What I know for certain is that in this life I am a Lutheran pastor. Trinitarian Christianity works for me (and that's a subject for a future post). Right now, I owe it to my soul and to the God of All Souls to be the best Lutheran pastor I can be. I'll just have to put the rest of eternity into God's almighty hands and live in the moment in faith, hope, and love.

Thank you so much for reading! I will be on vacation for the next two weeks and will not be posting. Please amuse yourself with some of the past posts you may have missed. As always, I look forward to your comments. God bless!

Healing Cancer

My wife and I were out to dinner last Saturday when my cell phone rang. I plugged my bad ear with a finger so I could hear the news from my brother-in-law over the clanging din of the family restaurant. The words coming through the phone hit me like a right cross to the head: My sister Maryanne had been hospitalized. She was scheduled for surgery the next morning.

She had a brain tumor.

Oh shit.

Brain tumor. Two words that are like the sudden appearance of a stranger with a gun or the unexpected snarl of a rabid animal when there is no place to run or hide. Terrifying words.

I know these words. I've been to this rodeo before. Sixteen years ago I lost a dear friend to a brain tumor. I flashed back to all the memories of that ugly, ungodly disease. The surgery. The recovery. The radiation. The sickness. The confusion. The hopeful good news. The devastating disappointment. The loss of a brilliant personality, disappearing inch by inch. The final, obscene family vigil by the bedside when Death, although inevitable, stubbornly refuses to come. The waiting, refusing to leave even for sleep or meals--suffering because the loved one is suffering. Anguish.

But I calm down. The terror subsides. I realize the fear is so great because of the dearness of the person who is at risk. It's so great to have sisters. Granted, it's been many years since I've seen Maryanne. We live on opposite coasts, and neither of us has a lot of money to spend on air travel to visit each other. Still, I just love to know that she's around--somewhere.

Maryanne is sort of the family eccentric. Back in the 1970's she was a genuine card-carrying Jesus Freak. Her enthusiasms have always been eclectic--modern dance, ice skating, fashion design, classical singing, and even pro wrestling. She's a wife and a mother. A brilliant water color artist, she has also been a professional scenic designer and set-painter with Off Broadway credits to her name. For me, her most defining and endearing characteristic is her humor--a goofball sense of the absurd, expressed in a diction somewhere between P. G. Wodehouse and Eddie Murphy. She is sensitive by nature, and, although she is technically my big sister, I find myself thinking of her as my little sister.

Siblings are precious because they are the only people, I think, who truly know us. Our spouses, our parents, our children, or our adult friends didn't grow up under the same roof, and don't share the same childhood memories. At best, siblings have their own special language and points of reference. And when we lose them, we feel so much more alone.

Fortunately, the news from Maryanne has been pretty positive. Her surgery went well, and most of the tumor has been removed without any impairment to her motor or sensory functions. So far, we are optimistic. Maryanne tells me that she is feeling closer to God now that she has had this traumatic diagnosis. She's thankful her headaches are gone. She tells me she has felt the support of all of those who have been praying for her. She is overwhelmingly grateful to her care-givers--especially her husband and mother-in-law.

And me? I'm feeling closer to my sister these last few days than I have felt in a very long time--and closer to her twin, my sister Lorraine, who is united with me in worry and prayer and love for our sis.

I've been a pastor for a long time now, but I still don't know if there is any kind of adequate pastoral care for a person or family attacked by a life-threatening diagnosis. All I can do is take solace in the little moments of joy and the tiny victories which come in the midst of our troubles. As Saint Paul says,

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." (1 Thessalonians 5:17-18)

This may not be of much comfort to those who are experiencing similar losses or fears, but it's the best I can do at the moment and under the circumstances. Because, you see, the truth is that none of us can be cured--we all must die from something. We all must face loss. But I want to believe in the soul and in eternity and in righteousness. I want to believe--as I know my sister does--in joy and gratitude and love. I want to be made whole.

That's what the word "heal" means. It comes from the same root as "whole"--free from grief, troubles, and evil. And such is the ground of faith, this is the belief which keeps me going: we are  all incurable, but no one is un-healable.

Thanks for reading, my friend. Keep us in your prayers.

"What is to Prevent Me From Being Baptized?"

"As they were going along the road, they came to some water; and the eunuch said, 'Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?'"
                                                                            Acts 8:36

The above question comes from a story in the eighth chapter of Acts (Acts 8:26-40) which was the assigned first reading for the Fifth Sunday of Easter. It's a great story: Phillip, a follower of Jesus Christ, has left Jerusalem and is sort of wandering around the middle east at the direction of the Holy Spirit. In his journey, he encounters an Ethiopian eunuch. The eunuch is a real big shot--he's Secretary of the Treasury and a pretty important guy. He's got his own chariot and driver, and he's sitting by the road reading from the prophet Isaiah.

No two people in the ancient world could be more different than Phillip and this stranger (alas, unnamed in the bible). One is a wandering Jewish peasant, the other a high official from sub-Saharan Africa. They are of different races, social classes, cultures, and (need I mention it?) sexuality. And yet, this unlikely pair become comrades on the road, united by a love of God and holy literature. Phillip's desire to share his relationship with Jesus transcends the barriers that would, within the culture of the day, keep these two men at arms' length. And this is what the church--at her best--should really be about: loving acceptance and reconciliation. This is a picture of the radical hospitality which  characterizes the Kingdom of God.

When the eunuch asks "What is to prevent me from being baptized?" he's not just asking a rhetorical question. This fellow has come to Jerusalem to worship. Although it is not said so explicitly in the text, the original readers of Acts would have known that the eunuch would have been prevented from full participation in the Jewish assembly precisely because he was a eunuch (see Deuteronomy 23:1). Despite this man's achievements and social position, he is looked down upon as a sexual freak and an abomination by people outside of his culture. But in Jesus, there are no barriers. There is nothing to prevent this man from being a loved part of the community of fellow believers.

Recently, a member of my parish whom I'll call "Laura" (because that's her name), had a conversation with a twenty-seven year old man in her ceramics class. They were talking about godparents (or "baptismal sponsors" if you will). The young man lamented that he had no godparents because he had never been baptized. He told Laura that he really wanted to go deeper into his faith, and that he wanted to be baptized. Seizing the moment, Laura volunteered her pastor (that would be me) and her congregation as vehicles to welcome this young seeker sacramentally into the Christian faith.

I should mention that the young ceramic artist is a partnered gay man. Regretably, there are still some Christian communities which would take issue with individuals over the the matter of sexual orientation. I think the 2009 (and still ongoing in some places) upheaval in my own denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, over questions of human sexuality and inclusivity is evidence of this very point. To me, however, the story of Phillip and the eunuch illustrates that the grace of Jesus supersedes the purity codes of Hebrew Scripture. We are called to be welcoming to all, for in Christ there are no distinctions.

" I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd."
                                                                               John 10:16

Thanks for reading, my friends. Please drop me a note if you're able.

Spiritual Chicks II: Catherine of Siena

I hadn't really intended to write a series of posts on famous women saints, but the Revised Common Lectionary for the Easter Season has suggested these heroines. Mary Magdalene, of course, is the first Christian evangelist and a pivotal figure in the Resurrection story. Catherine of Siena, whose feast day was April 29th, seemed to be a great example and illustration for the gospel lesson assigned to that day.

The appointed gospel for Easter 4 is John 10:11-18 in which the evangelist quotes Jesus describing himself as the Good Shepherd. I don't know about you, but I'm not really all that familiar with sheep and the practice of shepherding (I'm a city boy). What I do know is that the Pharisees of John's day would probably have taken no small amount of umbrage at this comparison as it both likens Jesus to the Creator God of Psalm 23 (an obvious blasphemy) and suggests that those charged with the spiritual care of  the people were somewhat less good in their shepherding.

The discourse in John 10 comes on the heels of the story of Jesus healing a man born blind. Now, you might think that such a healing would be hailed universally as a pretty good thing to do; nevertheless, the religious leaders in the story--the other shepherds--have to turn it into a political football. They want to quibble about the legality of healing on the sabbath or about the prophetic status of the healer. When I read the story, I just want to grab these Pharisees by the collar, shake them and say,"Who cares about sabbath law?! This man was a blind begger, and now he's a functioing member of society, for cryin' out loud! Don't you understand? Have you no compassion? You're missing the point!!"

Perhaps I should add that I feel the same way when I listen to our political candidates today. Why are we bickering over "big government" versus "small government" ideology when there are human beings in need of physical, spiritual, and economic healing?

What is wanting, I think, is a personal, flesh-and-blood relationship. In verse 14 Jesus, the Good Shepherd, says, "I know my own, and my own know me..." When we have a personal knowledge of Jesus--a real relationship--we can see past our petty selfish interests and find genuine, visionary compassion.

But how would we achieve such a relationship? The best advice I can give is to imagine the single most virtuous person you have ever known.  Maybe that's your mother or grandmother, or, perhaps, a former teacher, neighbor, or co-worker. Someone with true compassion, wisdom, love, and integrity. Visualize yourself having a conversation with that person and telling him or her about what's on your mind. How do your opinions and feelings stack up against that person's moral character? What advice would that person give you? If you can imagine a relationship with someone you've actually known who has embodied compassion, forgiveness, and truthfulness, you're on your way to having a relationship with Jesus.

Catherine of Siena, a fourteenth century nun, was known for her mystical visions of Christ. She imagined a very intimate relationship with Jesus, often imagining him feeding her the eucharist by his own hand. Touched by the compasson of her Good Shepherd, Catherine became something of a shepherd herself. She obediently and willingly exposed herself to vicitms of the plague. She both fed and nursed them, and even dug their graves. Miraculously, she never became infected.

Catherine was also known for her willingness to speak truth to power. As the fourteenth century was filled with petty wars and political intrigue, Catherine risked her own life to broker peace between warring Italian states, and urged Pope Gregory XI to return to Italy. She worked tirelessly for reconcilliation within the church after the election of Pope Urban VI caused schism, and frequently wrote to the pontiff criticisms of his behavior. Throughout her short life she remained a champion of the poor, often feeding the hungry from her own meager rations.

I find myself wishing for a modern-day Catherine--someone who can see beyond the political intrigues and just say, "Hey! We have hungry and sick people here. We need to care for them! Why? Because I know Jesus, and that's what he wants us to do."

So what is Jesus telling you to do? To whom are you a shepherd?

Mary Magdalene

I really love her story. I find it touching, and mysterious, and so very, very human. The alternate Easter gospel lesson (John 20:1-18) is for me, one of the most beautiful vignettes in all of the Bible, simply because of the recognizable humanity of its central character, Mary Magdalene.

Poor Mary. She's been so maligned over the centuries. In 591, Pope Gregory the Great got it into his head that Mary Magdalene was the same woman as the sinful woman mentioned in Luke 7:36. Ever since, Mary M. has been considered a reformed prostitute--a conclusion which could never have been reached by an honest reading of Luke's text. I wonder if old Gregory, head of a male-dominated institution, just couldn't get over the fact that the first Christian evangelist was actually a woman.

What we do know about this wonderful saint, however, is that Jesus had healed her of "seven demons (See Luke 8:2 and Mark 16:9)." What we don't  know is what on earth "seven demons" actually meant in the world of the text. Was she menatally ill? Depressed? Physically sick? Who knows? All we know is that she was sick, she got well, and, as a result, formed a devoted attachment to Jesus whom she supported from his ministry in Galilee all the way up to his crucifixion and beyond.

The early church had a lot of veneration for Mary. She's mentioned as being close to Jesus in a lot of early Christian gnostic texts, and she's often been the subject of early Christian artists. You can always pick out Mary Magdalene at the foot of the cross or at the empty tomb.  She is color-coded in red gown or veil in order to distinguish her from Mary, the mother of Jesus, who was painted wearing blue. Later, Renaissance artists got more creative and painted her with red hair (In Trimark's 1999 made-for-television film Jesus, Mary Magdalene is portrayed by the brilliant redheaded actress Debra Messing--and depicted as a prostitute.)

I suspect that the term "scarlett woman," referring to a woman of questionable sexual morality, owes a little something to Mary Magdalene. Also, our English word "maudlin," meaning something tearfully sentimental, is a direct referrence to Mary weeping at the tomb of Christ. Whether old Pope Gregory liked it or not, Mary Magdalene has infiltrated herself into our culture.

But it is her involvement in the crucifixion story which gives her her lasting importance. Can you put yourself in her place? She has witnessed the man to whom she is devoted, to whom she owes her life, brutally and unjustly tortured to death. She witnesses this act of barbaric cruelty along with her friend and teacher's mother. What must have been going through her mind? I think the very experience must have been traumatizing. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if, when we meet her in the 20th chapter of John, she is suffering from PTSD.

The inspiration of her life is gone, thrown into a grave before she could even prepare his body. She stumbles through the pre-dawn blackness just so she can be close to his lifeless form--the only thing that's left of this man who has been so significant in her life. To her horror, she sees that the tomb has been opened, and, assuming the worst without even investigating, she runs to tell his friends. I find it significant that she doesn't take the time to look in the tomb herself. Her grief is so overwhelming that she jumps to the not-far-fetched conclusion that this opening is the work of grave robbers.

The men who investigate are no help to her. They enter the tomb, come to their own conclusions, but do nothing  to console this stricken woman. They desert her in her pain, as her grief has become isolating. She is left to weep alone.

Looking into the tomb, Mary sees two angels who ask her why she is crying. She doesn't care that they're angels. She does not wonder at the sight, cast down her eyes at their splendor, or throw herself on her knees. All she cares about is that Jesus is gone.

Turning away in pain, she sees a man she takes to be the gardener. "Sir," she says, "if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away." Picture that for a second: a Jewish woman, ritually defiling herself by carrying the corpse of her dead teacher. It is an image both grotesque and pathetic--and yet it speaks to a love so profound that it transends reason and dignity. To me, it is heartbreaking.

And then the man--really the resurrected Jesus--does a very simple, very loving thing. He addresses her by name. By my count, Mary is one of only four people in the gospels whom Jesus calls by name. Overjoyed, the woman throws herself into his arms, but Jesus tells her not to cling to him. He has not yet ascended to his Father.

This means, of course, that his absence from her has only been postponed. She will lose him again.

Or will she?

He has called her by name. He knows her. Isn't it all of our secret desires to be intimately known--recognized, understood, loved for who we truly are? Can a love like that ever be taken from us? The physical body of Jesus may be taken from her, but the spiritual reality of the ascended Jesus is her permanent reality.

I think Mary's story is the story of us all--grief has robbed her of judgment, peace, and dignity. Love has restored and empowered her. God has seen her, known her, touched her, and become part of her. She is broken and restored, wounded and healed, and, like Jesus, killed and raised.

Update

Christ is risen! Alleluia!

Hello, Dear Friends!

 I'm afraid I'm still unable to post a new essay due to the lack of a functioning computer (I'm borrowing the one I'm using now). I thank you all for your patience. I am happy to report, however, that the church steeple is being repaired and my parish is entering into a relationship with the Interfaith Hospitality Network with the aim of sheltering three temporarily homeless families in our facility. As Saint James reminds us, "Faith, by itself, if it has no works, is dead." (Js. 2:17) We are very excited about this.

If you have any suggestions about a subject on which you'd like me to write, please leave me a comment.

A Blessed Easter!

Dear Friends,
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our crucified and risen Lord Jesus!

I'd hoped to have written a moving essay this week on one of  my favorite biblical characters, Mary Magdalene--the very first Christian evangelist. Alas, the Old Religious Guy's computer crashed and has been sent to computer hospital for repair (I'm borrowing a computer from my secretary for this post). Not only has the computer crashed, but the steeple on my church has also come crashing down as a result of some rotten roof beams and recent 40 mile-per-hour winds. Hey, it never rains but it pours. But I am not discouraged. It's Holy Week, and I rejoice in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection (and the fact that the parish has a good insurance policy!).

I have also changed the settings on this blog so ANYONE (Christians, non-Christians, non-blog members, non-googlers, spammers, hackers, sinners, atheists, or any English-speaking soul around the world) can leave a comment. So please feel free to do so. Let me know what you'd like to read about, and we can have a conversation.

I hope to be back with a new post next week. (Uh-oh. Looks like my secretary wants her computer back!)In the meantime, may you have a blessed and holy Easter.

Christ is risen! Alleluia!