UNKNOWING (Fr Rohr et al)
Many, most, maybe all of us have crossed paths in life with someone who stands out as a person greatly to be admired. The crossing may be personal, it may be someone we see on television or other media, or a political or religious or military figure. There are any number in my life. Some local, whom I will not name lest I embarrass them. Father Tom Byrne, our priest and mentor my high school years. Winston Churchill has been one, including as war leader, author, I've read many of his books on the history of England, Britain, and I loved his buttheaded defiance of Germany and Hitler. One book about Churchill caught me up short though, describing his war with, treatment of, and contempt for other than white people, Africans and people of India during the Raj. But I guess if you can let George Washington go on being the Father of our Country and a six-star General even though he owned slaves, I can love Winston anyway as a man of his Time. Even Jesus was a man of his day and age, and Saint Paul (slaves, obey your masters).
Another was Ike, Dwight Eisenhower, who was Supreme Allied Commander leading our forces from the West in Europe to destroy the Third Reich, along with the forces of the USSR from the East, and our other allies. I saw President Eisenhower once, summer 1957 he visited Newport Naval Base when I was in OCS there, and we "troops" were marched out to welcome him. Yes, I remember his car, a Lincoln Cosmopolitan convertible sedan with the top down and Ike standing up, waving. Ike was wearing a brown suit. He waved at us, I thought directly at me! But in January 1945, as WW2 was finishing fiercely, General Eisenhower signed-off on the execution by firing squad of a pathetically desperate, mental soldier, and my admiration of Ike tempered greatly. I think the most important people in life are teachers and soldiers, and when I read the story of Private Eddie Slovik my view of Ike dropped.
There was Pope John XXIII, Angelo Guiseppe Roncalli, who convened Vatican II and opened the windows of the Roman Catholic Church (leader of Western Christianity) to fresh air, fresh thinking, updating. The church liked John Paul II more, but Roncalli was my man.
In that regard, I absolutely detest and contemn religious certitude, which has brought unspeakable evil down upon the human race.
FDR, JFK, Abraham Lincoln. Michael Bruce Curry. The scholars of the Jesus Seminar. Bart Ehrman. John Shelby Spong. MLK. C S Lewis and J R R Tolkien. Galileo, Stephen Hawking. Mr Paul at our school because the children love him so, and I've watched him for years and I know personally that he deserves it. Mr Paul was recognized this morning, but I'm not naming anyone else that local lest it (i) embarrass and (ii) fade off into the maudlin and devolve into an effort to cover all bases. Richard Rohr, Fr Rohr is a Franciscan priest whose view of Christianity comes closer to my own Christian faith and views than anyone else I've ever met or read; not exactly, but quite close. Fr Richard is nobody's fool, which, for many religionists, in their arrogance and smug certitude, cannot be said.
Anyway, ("anyway" signals that I'm at the end of my blogpost for the day), Fr Rohr's daily meditations for this week catch my attention and appreciation. His overall topic has been "knowing" or "unknowing", where the opposite of faith is not doubt but knowing, certainty, certitude (see Hebrews 11:1). His meditation for tomorrow will simply summarize each of this week's essays, so I've copy and pasted the two that are the best.
Scroll down, read, and let your lightbulb come on.
RSF&PTL
T
Oh, nearly forgot. Couple of extracts from another admired essayist, Anu Garg's A.Word.A.Day, another hero: Vitellius. And A THOUGHT FOR TODAY for myself and everyone else who, nearing the end of life, notes that s/he could have done better with his/her Time; but a special heads up for anyone from ten to forty: live your dream.
John Green; An Abundance of Katherines; Penguin; 2008.
Vocations which we wanted to pursue, but didn't, bleed, like colors, on the whole of our existence. -Honore de Balzac, novelist (20 May 1799-1850)
Father Richard Rohr begins this week’s meditations by emphasizing the importance of humility in our knowing, acknowledging all that we don’t know about God, Reality, and ourselves.
Ultimate Reality cannot be seen with any dual operation of the mind that eliminates the mysterious or confusing—anything scary, unfamiliar, or outside our comfort zone. Dualistic thinking is not naked presence to the Presence, but highly controlled and limited seeing. With such software, we cannot access infinity, God, grace, mercy, or love—the necessary and important things! Wouldn’t you join me in saying “I would not respect any God that I could figure out?” St. Augustine of Hippo (354–430) said the same: “If you understand it, then it is not God.” [1]
Jesus himself consistently honored and allowed Mystery. Many of Jesus’ sayings are so enigmatic and confusing that I am convinced that is why most Catholics simply avoid reading the Bible. If Jesus had been primarily concerned about perfect clarity from his side, and certain understanding from our side, he surely didn’t do very well as a communicator, even in his lifetime. Thankfully, Protestants insisted on reading and studying the Scriptures, but then became certain they had the one and only interpretation and ignored many of the others! This, even after Jesus so often (seven times in Matthew 13 alone) taught that Ultimate Reality (which he calls “the kingdom”) is always like something. He clearly offers simile and metaphor to invite further reflection and journey, not impose a single understanding.
Jesus largely communicates through parables, stories, aphorisms, and often deeply obscure riddles (such as “Many are called, but few are chosen,” Matthew 22:14). This discourse isn’t pleasing to systematic thinkers. If I had turned in papers as open to misunderstanding, false interpretation, and even heresy as most of Jesus’ teachings are, I would never have passed my theology courses. He couldn’t have been concerned about exact words, or he would have learned to speak Greek, instead of the philosophically imprecise and very different Aramaic!
Healthy religion is always humble about its own holiness and knowledge. It knows that it does not know. The true biblical notion of faith, which balances knowing with not knowing, is rather rare today, especially among many religious folks who think faith is being certain all the time—when the truth is the exact opposite. Anybody who really knows also knows that they don’t know at all.
We’ve got to constantly remind ourselves that we don’t know. The Buddhists call this stance “beginner’s mind.” Imagine how our politics and our churches could change if we had that kind of humility in our conversations. It just doesn’t seem possible anymore. Both politics and religion are filled with people clinging to certitudes on every side of every question. This makes civil and humane conversation largely impossible because there’s no humility. There’s no openness to mystery as being that which is always unfolding. Mystery is not that which is not understandable. Mystery is that which is endlessly understandable.
References:
[1] Augustine, Sermon 117:5 (on John 1:1). Original text: “Si enim comprehendis, non est Deus.”
Adapted from Richard Rohr, The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics See (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 2009), 74–75;
Just This (Albuquerque, NM: CAC Publishing, 2017),85–86; and
Following the Mystics through the Narrow Gate: Seeing God in All Things (Albuquerque, NM: Center for Action and Contemplation, 2010). Available as CD, DVD, and MP3 download.
Truly, you are a God who hides, O God of Israel, the Savior. —Isaiah 45:15
Father Richard closes this week’s meditations on how God is encountered not through words but through humble “not knowing”:
I want to point out that there are two different kinds of certitude: mouthy and mystical.
Just for the sake of alliteration and cleverness, I call the first one “mouthy certitude.” Mouthy certitude is filled with bravado, overstatement, quick, dogmatic conclusions, and a rush to judgment. People like this are always trying to convince others. They need to get us on their side and tend to talk a lot in the process. Underneath the “mouthiness” is a lot of anxiety about being right. Mouthy certitude, I think, often gives itself away, frankly, by being rude and even unkind because it’s so convinced it has the whole truth.
We have to balance mouthy certitude with “mystical certitude.” Mystical certitude is utterly authoritative, but it’s humble. It isn’t unkind. It doesn’t need to push its agenda. It doesn’t need to compel anyone to join a club, a political party, or even a religion. It’s a calm, collected presence, which Jesus seems to possess entirely. As Jesuit Greg Boyle writes, “There is no place in the gospel where Jesus is defensive. In fact, he says, ‘Do not worry what your defense will be’ [Luke 12:11]. Jesus had no interest in winning the argument, only in making the argument.” [1]
Those who know always know that they don’t know. That’s the character of the mystic. The very word “mystical” comes from the Sanskrit “mū,” which was associated with being tongue-tied or hushed to silence. This Indo-European root shaped the words “mystery,” “mystic,” “mute,” “mumble,” and others. It’s when we come before what the scholar Rudolph Otto (1869–1937) called the “mysterium tremendum” [2]—the tremendous mystery of God—and we can’t find the words. All we can do is mutter, because we know whatever just happened is beyond words, beyond proving, and beyond any kind of rational certitude. Our present notion of God is never it, because if we comprehend it, it is not God. If you happen to have the charismatic gift of speaking in tongues, it is a physiological experience of the ineffability of true spiritual experience. Maybe we all need to pray in tongues!
The only people who grow in truth are those who are humble and honest. This is traditional Christian doctrine and is, in effect, the maxim of Alcoholics Anonymous. Without those two qualities—humility and honesty—we just don’t grow. If we try to use religion to aggrandize the self, we will end up just the opposite: proud and dishonest. Humility and honesty are really the same thing. A humble person is simply someone who is naturally honest about their own truth. You and I came along a few years ago; we’re going to be gone in a few more years. The only honest response to such a mystery is humility.
References:
[1] Gregory Boyle, The Whole Language: The Power of Extravagant Tenderness (New York: Avid Reader Press, 2021), 130.
[2] Rudolf Otto, The Idea of the Holy, trans. John W. Harvey (London: Oxford University Press, 1923), 12.
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Following the Mystics through the Narrow Gate: Seeing God in All Things (Albuquerque, NM: Center for Action and Contemplation, 2010). Available as CD, DVD, and MP3 download; and
Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 1999, 2003), 120.
Explore Further. . .
- Read Richard on faith as a path without certitude.
- Learn more about this year’s theme Nothing Stands Alone.
- Meet the team behind the Daily Meditations.