Showing posts with label love and unity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love and unity. Show all posts

Friday, July 15, 2011

Friends with God

  " Unchained from Judaism, the parent of Christianity, one easily comes to the idea that God doesn't care what you do, or what your will be..."  -- a Simple Mind

Writing with a very different understanding of the cosmos, author, Neale Donald Walsch in his book, Friendship With God, writes: "God does not care what we do because of why we are here." Some will easily argue that his conception of the universe and the cosmos is incomplete, therefore flawed by the standards of current scholarship. For example, while in Walsch's view, God acknowledges himself as the creator of life, but then he (Walsch) adds that he created us in his image so that we could be creators as well. At first this sounds possible. We are conceived and people do conceive further... However, he continues, writing: "God has no special will for us: ". . . your will for you is God's will for you . . . I have no preference in the matter . . . I do not care what you do . . ."

Whoa. Here we hit the skids. The Decalogue is shot. In many references, the Torah tells of an attentive and caring Lord.  It writes of covenants, agreements made between God and the people, Israel. Not so in Walsch: God continues on, saying that we are not here to learn lessons, but only "to remember, and re-create, who you are." This came about because God, who originally was all that existed, longed "to know what it felt like to be so magnificent" and was not satisfied unless there was a reference point through which God could know his magnificence..."

Has anyone picked up a book on philosopher and mathematician Gotfried Leibnitz's idea of the Monad lately? It's all in there. Here it is in ungarbled form: Monism most simply argues for the idea that there is unity, only unity and not dualism. Many, if not most all of the world religions address this issue. Now review the writing of Walsch once more after reading Leibnitz's ideas. It is less clear to this Simple Mind what Walsch's point really is.

 For more views on this topic, one writer's thoughts Marcia Montnegro's, and the thoughts of University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point philosophy professor, Joseph Waligore:
christiananswersforthenewage.org/Articles_BookreviewWalsch.html
spiritualcritiques.com/author-criticisms/neale-donald-walsch/

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Elder Son, Beloved Child

You have to keep searching for your body's deeper need, the need for genuine love. Every time you are able to go beyond the body's superficial desires for love, you are bringing your body home and moving toward integration and unity.”--Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son

"Often I have asked friends to give me their first impression of Rembrandt's [Dutch painter 1606-1669] Prodigal Son. Henri Nouwen continues, "Inevitably, they point to the wise old man who forgives his son: the benevolent patriarch."
In his book, Return of the Prodigal Son, Nouwen describes love and forgiveness as unconditional. Though this is not a new idea, Nouwen's thought is arguably unique as he approaches this theme from the view of the younger son, the elder son, and the father. Each captures the unconditional quality of love and forgiveness in their own way. The younger son's life shows how the Beloved lives a life of misery by thinking he can be loved only by meeting certain qualifications of the lover which he fails to meet. The elder son's actions shows how the beloved can be depressed because he thinks he should receive greater love because he has done all the right things, or that he has met these qualifications.

The father alone understands how to love and forgive, and is able to do so and be happy. Nouwen explains that we are the younger son at times, when we think we don't deserve the love or the forgiveness; and the elder son at times when we think we deserve love, or that another doesn't deserve it more than us-- that we are all called to be like the father; that by being like the father, we can come closer to being loved as the Beloved.

"The longer I look at 'the patriarch', the clearer it becomes to me that Rembrandt has done something quite different from letting God pose as the wise old head of a family. It all began with the hands. The two are quite different. The father's left hand touching the son's shoulder is strong and muscular. The fingers are spread out and cover a large part of the prodigal son's shoulder and back. I can see a certain pressure, especially in the thumb. That hand seems not only to touch, but, with its strength, also to hold. Even though there is a gentleness in the way the father's left hand touches his son, it is not without a firm grip."

"How different is the father's right hand! This hand does not hold or grasp. It is refined, soft, and very tender. The fingers are close to each other and they have an elegant quality. It lies gently upon the son's shoulder. It wants to caress, to stroke, and to offer consolation and comfort. It is a mother's hand...."

"As soon as I recognized the difference between the two hands of the father, a new world of meaning opened up for me. The Father is not simply a great patriarch. He is mother as well as father. He touches the son with [both] a masculine hand and a feminine hand. He holds, and she caresses. He confirms and she consoles. He is, indeed, God, in whom both manhood and womanhood, fatherhood and motherhood, are fully present," writes Nouwen of the painting.

"That gentle and caressing right hand echoes for me the words of the biblical prophet Isaiah, "Can a woman forget her baby at the breast, feel no pity for the child she has borne? Even if these I were to forget, I shall not forget you. Look, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands."
Also, Nouwen writes: “Your body needs to be held and to hold, to be touched and to touch. None of these needs is to be despised, denied, or repressed. But you have to keep searching for your body's deeper need, the need for genuine love. Every time you are able to go beyond the body's superficial desires for love, you are bringing your body home and moving toward integration and unity.”
--Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son

Henri Nouwen (1932-1996) is a 20th century Catholic Christian writer, poet, teacher and mystic. He lived both in the Netherlands and in the United States. His books are now available in many languages around the world.