This Spark and Spitfire post introduces a new regular feature and category — Sparks — thoughts, excerpts, rants, etc. — inspired by my current reading.
What purpose does religion serve in our lives? Why does religion still exist in the 21st century? People suffer — so where’s religion? These are the questions author Elaine Pagels grapples with in her latest book, Why Religion?: A Personal Story, gifted to me this Christmas by my beloved Charlotte. These questions, according to the book jacket copy, “took on new urgency for Pagels when she was dealing with unimaginable loss: the death of her young son, followed a year later by the shocking death of her husband.”
Neither endorsing nor indicting spirituality, the book is about how a “spiritual sensibility” can create space for ambiguity, contemplation and gnosis — knowledge of the heart — particularly in the face of suffering. In my experience, religion too often connects knowledge of the heart with literal knowledge of canonical scripture and biblical stories that is not only not helpful but also oppressively judgmental.
Non-canonical scripture — about which Pagels is a renowned scholar — is more attuned to spiritual sensibility. Pagels argues that in The Gospel of Thomas (not included in the Christian canon), the “good news” is that what each of us is looking for when we grieve may not be anything supernatural, or spiritual, but right in front of us. As Thomas writes, “Jesus says: ‘Recognize what is before your eyes, and the mysteries will be revealed to you.'” Further, keep searching until you find it. “Within a person of light, there is light,” writes Thomas. “If illuminated, it lights up the whole world; if not, everything is dark.”
Okay . . . I kinda get it, but how do these “mysteries,” this “light” help us through suffering? According to Pagels, this light helps us to see suffering not as punishment, but as a way we’re all connected with each other and with God:
Instead of seeing suffering as punishment, or somehow “good for you,” see it rather as Buddhists do, as an essential element of human existence, yet one that may have the potential to break us open out of who we are. My own experience of the “nightmare” — the agony of feeling isolated, vulnerable, and terrified — has shown that only awareness of that sense of interconnection restores equanimity, even joy.
Powerful insights such as these actually take a back seat to the remarkable visions and mystical experiences Pagels interweaves with her more intellectual journey that leave her (and me) undone. The book ends at a Harvard University Awards ceremony where Pagels suddenly remembers her forever-gone son and husband — “Where are they, those who aren’t here, now lost to us?” she silently wonders:
I don’t know how to answer those questions. What I do know is that for moments, during that noisy and joyful ceremony, the pomp and privilege of that scene receded, and the invisible bonds connecting everyone there, and connecting all of us with countless others and with our world and whatever is beyond it, felt stronger than ever, echoing the words of an ancient Jewish prayer: “Blessed art Thou, Lord God of the Universe, that you have brought us alive to see this day.” However it happens, sometimes hearts do heal, through what I can only call grace.
I don’t know all that much about church history, but I am assuming that the Gnostic Gospels aren’t in the “official” biblical canon for a couple of reasons: 1) They aren’t dogmatic enough; and 2) the “official” biblical canon was chosen by white men.
Throughout the centuries, the traditional church seems to have had little patience or understanding of ambiguity. This church, for the most part, believes suffering is the result of something you did wrong so you need Jesus badly. With it’s strict parameters and teachings, this church tells you that all you need to do is become friends with Jesus rather than become MORE like Jesus. Just memorize our theology and key Bible verses, and you don’t have to question anything. Jesus did all the work for you on that awful Saturday. So sit back and bask in forgiveness. Jesus is like your favorite pair of slippers, not an old shoe containing a pebble.
In my experience, God AND Jesus are impossible to pin down, like trying to catch a cloud or a bolt of lightening. While frightening, it’s also less judgmental because there’s no ONE RIGHT WAY to believe, short of actually opening yourself to the divine. But be warned: once you open yourself to the Great and Powerful Catch-Me-If-You-Can, you’re going to need a seatbelt because it’s one hellavu bumpy ride.
Your wrestling is inviting and engaging. Gritty and meaningful. After all folks have been wrestling with suffering for 1,000’s of years. We participate in life not just talk about it. Simone Weil said that we do not seek God, we wait for God. I have a tough time being a creature and limited–so severely limited.
Thanks for reading the post and commenting, Charlotte. I love the Simone Weil quote and had not read it before. Into the journal it goes!
“We wait for God.” Hmmmm. Emily Post suggested that the most one need wait for someone is 15 minutes, and then you can leave, go your separate way, etc. Doesn’t apply to God, I guess.
On a more serious note, I remember what Bernice Johnson Reagon, founder of Sweet Honey in the Rock said to me about being human (a creature) when I interviewed her:
“Being human is a very special way to go through the universe. I don’t know what it’s like to be a star or a tree or a lion. But I think being human is special; I’m grateful for it and I don’t want to waste it. I usually try to live so whenever that day is finished, there ain’t nothing else I think I could have done with it.”
Elaine Pagels hints at the same thing in the book featured in this post.
Sharon, Friend, with Charlotte I do appreciate your ongoing search, waiting, whatever for more experience of/with God. You know I do and that I want to support you on this journey. I’m just so sorry you’ve experienced such a negative response from the church(es) you have known. Especially I’m sorry you’ve come away with the sense that “suffering is the result of something you did wrong so you need Jesus badly,” and the sense that some rote memorizing of dogma and Bible verses will give you all the answers and will mean you don’t ever have to (and never should!) question. Oh my! Yes, I know there are churches like that. I grew up in one, in fact! But they’re certainly not all like that. The Bible itself is so full of questions and enigmas. It invites us, I believe, to question, to search, to wait. I hope our conversations about faith have never left you with the sense that I judge your questions and doubts. Heaven knows I have enough of them myself!
And just a footnote on the Gnostic gospels. I have read many of them and Pagels book about them, and I find much that is good in them—women in leadership, for example. But I don’t think they were excluded from the canon simply for the reasons you suggest, though I suspect the male hierarchic eyebrows arched severely at the thought of women in leadership! But Gnosticism promulgated some theological theories that were/are quite problematic. For example, the Gnostics insisted on the duality of spirit and matter and claimed that the body (our bodies!) and all things material were inferior, evil, or even perhaps unreal. This led some Gnostics to extreme asceticism, others to gross indecency. Another problem—they believed Jesus was not a real living, breather human person—simply a spiritual being who adapted himself to human perception. Again, a rejection of our very physical life. So I think there were some good reasons to reject Gnostic teaching as a whole, though I wish the early church leaders had been more open to listening and accepting some of the good emphases of the Gnostics.
Well, so much for church history. You probably knew I couldn’t let that just slip through the fingers of my brain! Let’s continue our quest together, open to each other’s longings, aches, questions, doubts, always “with” each other as we do our best to wait and listen for God in our lives.
Whoa — what a generous and wise response, Carol. Thank you.
Like I said, I know so little about church history, only enough to fuel my caution about male leadership. But I hear you, that’s a very narrow and judgmental perspective, no doubt promulgated (to use your verb) by my general unease and anger toward white straight men, particularly the liars, cheaters and hypocrites who’ve left such an indelible stain on American and Christian values.
I also didn’t know much about the Gnostics, though after reading your comment, I recall some of what I was taught at the conservative evangelical college I attended. Pagels mentions none of these concerns, at least in this book. But couldn’t the same, but opposite, concerns be made about Christians? Seems like too many of them covet material things that you can’t get through the eye of a needle. Faith for them is like bark — hard and tangible. And sure, they acknowledge the body, but DON’T DARE TOUCH IT!
Also, based on all the reviews I’ve read about her book, Pagel is damned if she does and damned if she doesn’t; meaning, Christians are cautious about the book for reasons you cite; and non-Christians are cautious because much of her healing took place in a Trappist monastery where she regularly prayed (whatever that means to her) and broke bread with the brothers. I admired this book because she is open to healing coming in whatever form is in front of her. How many of us do that? How many Christians, for example, look for healing in a zendo, mosque or synagogue?
No, to be clear: I have never felt judged by you — or any of my beloveds who practice Western or Eastern spirituality. This kind of unconditional love not only keeps me tethered to Jesus, but also, frankly, to life.
Waiting and listening . . . who knew it would be so much work?
Quick (and shorter!) response. You are so right. There are those who call themselves by the name Christian whose material grasping for material wealth makes me wonder if they have any space at all in their lives for any kind of spiritual wealth! And, flip-side, there are those who are quite gnostic in their denial and punishment of the body (medieval monks come to mind, though there are those still with us today who are material/body deny-ers), seeming to be unaware of the Presence of God throughout the material as well as the spiritual dimension of life. I like that Pagels could find nourishment both within the church and beyond it.
Carol — your responses can be as long as you like. I love seeing your words published on my blog. Always affirming and helpful to me, and I’m sure to others who visit here.
Do you know if Gnostics liked art? It’s a serious question. I’m really curious.
I really have no idea. Sorry. Now I’m curious too.