Thursday, February 23, 2017
Belated Happy Valentine!
Ten days ago many of our countries celebrated Valentine’s Day. In
my childhood this was an innocent event, when women were given flowers: my dad
would buy some for my mom, and so would we kids; couples, especially those
shortly before or after their marriage, would also possibly exchange gifts. But
it was mainly a day of chivalry, when men would honor their loved ones. Not too
different from Mother’s day. How has it changed since! Business, perceiving commercial
opportunities, has jumped on it by producing dinners, gifts, cards and other
products which can be sold for a mark-up on 14th Feb; no man in his
right mind would travel for business on that day lest he incur the wrath of his
wife; and everybody from kindergarten to young professional age is seeking,
asking and inviting their “special Valentine”. So the pressure is intense, and
if you don’t have a special someone that day, you are like the person left
standing during musical chairs.
Why all this fuss? Apart from the financial incentive
which causes all seasons to get economized, be they Halloween, Hanukkah or
Homecoming, this day plays into a particular vulnerability in each of us: is
there somebody who considers me special? Do I have a unique place in somebody’s
heart?
In healthy families children receive just that kind of
affirmation from their parents; whether you have eight siblings or none, mom
and dad have the ability to make you each feel special. Not only on your
birthday, but every day they assure you that whatever mess you made, they love
you, consider you unique and are mad about you. Of course they also tell you
that there will be hell to pay if you lie, that there will be no dessert if you
won’t eat your spinach and that this would be a good time to shut up and go to
your room. But healthy parenting leads to healthy kids with robust self-images
who neither think that they are the greatest nor that nobody loves them. In
fact many of us have relied on that parental affirmation all our lives, until
the day our parents passed away.
But ultimately our parents are just our parents, and
however proud they were of us when we baked our first cake, graduated or bought
a house, that positive feedback is not enough, especially when it is so often
countered by destructive evaluations from colleagues, bosses, friends and
partners. We are often left wondering: am I really special?
Psalm 45 has this striking line: “Hear, O daughter,
consider, and incline your ear; forget your people and your father’s house; and
the king will desire your beauty.” It is a royal wedding song, where the bride
is invited to leave behind her home and people in order to be betrothed to the
king. This sounds like a fairy tale, yet it is profound (like so many tales are).
All of us, without exception, are invited to a marriage and the groom is God
himself. The relationship between the soul and its creator is described as a
marriage: exclusive, chaste, special. What our parents could only do to a
limited degree, God does perfectly and for all eternity: he assures us that we
are special, unique, created perfectly and pleasing to him.
To some, such words might sound ephemeral: what good is
it to me that God “desires my beauty” if I am left hurting for affection here
and now? Can God satisfy my affective, emotional and sexual needs? Surely not!
Generations and generations of celibate men and women have affirmed that this is
possible. In fact the whole point of people “living single for the Lord” lies
in the conviction that God can be enough and so giving up careers, possessions
and even marriage is not a hardship, but a happy offering. And celibates have
always held that their choice of vocation is meant not only for themselves,
those hardy enough to forego a spouse, but is rather a prophetic sign for
everybody. What they live out permanently all human beings should somehow
experience, namely that we are special in God’s eyes, his “Valentine”, if you
will; that this can and should color the way we look at life whether we are madly
in love, brokenhearted, widowed or unhappily single. The king always desires
your beauty!
Thursday, February 02, 2017
G-d: Fire, Light or Santa Claus?
Anybody who studies ethnology or anthropology, or even just
strolls through the British Museum for example, is amazed at the religious
practices of ‘primitive people’, be they African tribes or early Mesopotamian
peoples. In their own way they all build holy places to their gods with the
underlying notion that those gods are fierce, terrifying and awesome. As
spirituality of all sorts finds new followers these days from yoga and New Age
to interest in kabbalah or Eastern monasticism, the accompanying sentiments
seem quite different: God is out there, but no need to be afraid.
A story is reported of a Hasidic Jew who was asked by a friend
whether they could meet the next day and this rabbi answered: “How can you ask
me to make such a promise? This evening I must pray and recite the Shema (the
main daily Jewish prayer). When I say these words, my soul goes out to the utmost rim of life…Perhaps I shall not die this time
either, but how can I now promise to do something at a time after the prayer?”
In other words, for this rabbi there was nothing quaint, cute or controlled
about his act of prayer, since prayer, by definition, is an encounter with the
living G-d and as such, unpredictable. And if G-d is god, then he/she is
completely different from me, outside of my grasp and good for any surprises.
So I better show just a little respect…
C.S.Lewis,
the famous British writer of the last century (and author of the Narnia
Chronicles, amongst others) once observed that every age has its particular
virtues and vices: the Middle Ages were known for their chivalry, but not for
their practice of mercy. If I had pick a corresponding pair of traits for our
own age, I would pick informality and presumption. While former times were
stuck in lots of conventions about how one had to dress, speak, behave in a way
that seriously complicated life, our times are much more egalitarian,
free-flowing and spontaneous. I like that. The flip side is an uncanny tendency
to take others for granted and to presume on the benevolence of others, to the
point of putting them out. I find it unnerving how many people ask me for a
favor or receive a gift from me and never bother to say thank you.
These characteristics spill over into our contemporary view of
spirituality. Assuming our spirituality has any transcendent categories at all
(a lot of it has none these days, so our practice is purely this-sided), we
tend to assume that the divine is kind, approachable and, to use the phrase
from the Little Prince, domesticated, a bit like Santa Claus. So we show up in smart casual attire and
half-expect our deity to clap her hand in excitement that we can spare the
time. Traditional religions have used very different metaphors to depict the
divine: fire is a common image, both because of how vital and primordial it
seems and because of its ability to consume anything in its path. Or, to go
back to the Chronicles of Narnia, where the divine appears in the form of a
lion: Aslan seems a wholly good and kind being, but fearsome, not somebody you
would pull by the mane.
This is not to scare us off any form of religious practice. But
maybe we should consider for a moment what we mean by the sacred or divine: if
it is god, then by its very nature it is different from us. And the goodness of
any god cannot be presumed upon, but just hoped for, since gods are not under
our control, by definition. So when you plan to pray, however you do that,
expect the unexpected, expect light, fire and glory- all the things that occur
at the “rim of life”- and see what happens. And before you promise to see your
friend tomorrow, insert the lovely Arabic phrase “insh’Allah”- God willing.
