Chapter 8



Can these Bones Live?

This rhetorical question was put to Ezekiel by God, who carried him away by the Holy Spirit and laid him down in the middle of a valley full of bones. Ezekiel deferred the answer to God, who bade him prophesy over the bones. Life was infused into them, flesh with its sinews and skin covered them, and they arose as a great army. This vision was enacted as a symbol of the restoration of the whole House of Israel from the captivity in Babylon, where a hopeless resignation reigned, to the Holy Land, where they were to return and rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem and the walls of the city (Ezekiel 37:1-14). This remarkable vision of resurrection was to presage the return in strength of the Jews to their homeland after about seventy years' exile. It also points to the resurrection of the chastened individual to a heightened awareness, whether in this life or the greater life beyond mortal death. Nothing remains static in the world of God, for he is a Living God, sharing in the experience of his creatures as they enter a fuller existence of personal growth and actualization.

When the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, not only did he impart invaluable teaching to mankind, but he also learned what it was to be human, to know the frustrating impotence of an intelligence of vibrant creativity incarcerated in an animal body. As St Paul writes, "If you are guided by the Spirit you will not fulfil the desires of your lower nature. That nature sets its desires against the Spirit, while the Spirit fights against it" (Galatians 5:16-17). In Christ, who is the eternal new man, the spirit inhabits the flesh so as to bring it to a spiritual resurrection, as manifested in the resurrection body of Jesus himself. In this way the conflict so apparent in the lives of us all is resolved not in a categorical unilateral victory but in a growth in understanding of both parties. The flesh is raised beyond selfish desire to spiritual consciousness, while the Spirit, by its incarnation, learns compassion. How easy and satisfying it is to judge and condemn those who have personality difficulties that shut them off from the community! How much more illuminating and humbling it is to experience a particular difficulty oneself! Then at last do judgement and condemnation of people, both forbidden by Christ, broaden into understanding and compassion. I do not find it unseemly to reflect on God himself learning compassion through the process of incarnation. As we learn by his presence within us, so he learns by that presence also. "The eye with which I see God is the same with which God sees me", said Meister Eckhart. It is through his presence in all things that he knows the meanest creature as intimately as he does the most brilliant. "Are not sparrows two a penny? Yet without your Father's leave not one of them can fall to the ground. As for you, even the hairs of your head have been counted. So have no fear; you are worth more than any number of sparrows" (Matthew 10:29-31). This statement is not pantheism, the identification of God with the universe, but rather pantheism, an affirmation of the divine presence in all that is made. The Creator is separate from his creation while at the same time intimately involved in its welfare moment by moment.

This is the essence of God's love, and the basis of our hope that the creation may, in a time beyond time, move beyond death to the splendour of the liberty of God's children, to quote Romans 8:21 once again. Then at last the will of the creature may be so chastened, resurrected and glorified that it can work constructively with the will of God. God is neither a remote potentate so detached from his creation that he lets it proceed with its own destiny without any further concern, nor is he an obsessively interfering parent who cannot bear his children to get on with their own lives. His joy is greatest once we have attained to that degree of responsibility when we can order our lives and the government of the world aright, without the necessity of constantly calling on him for emergency assistance. But in the meantime he is available in urgent shafts of prayer. When the consummation of all things comes, there will be an awareness of the constant presence of God in our lives, so that the sacred and the profane shall be one. And so we can say, "Here and now, dear friends, we are God's children; what we shall be has not yet been disclosed, but we know that when it is disclosed, we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is" (1 John 3:2). It is this hope that leads us to purify ourselves, as Christ is pure. The essential prerequisite is humility.

When we reflect on the events of the last part of our century in the light of the resurrection prophesied by Ezekiel, some interesting conclusions strike home. Even though the imperialistic Japanese rained havoc on south-east Asia, their victories burst the bubble of European supremacy: within two decades virtually all the outposts of western colonial rule had fallen, although the heritage of its civilization continues to survive in the emancipated countries side by side with their native culture. The same is largely true of the African continent, except in South Africa, where there is an ongoing battle between a powerful, now indigenous, white minority striving desperately to preserve its ascendancy, and an oppressed black majority, striving equally hard for its liberation from the cruel, unjust "apartheid" system that has gained the government of the country international opprobrium. Each group is seeking its preservation, but only a few can see how the one is intimately dependent on the other for a full individual identity. We are indeed all parts of the one body, and our integrity depends on the health of that body quite as much as on our own qualities.

It is ironical to find that Germany and Japan, only a short while ago so eager for world conquest, are now the bastions of the western monetary system - this applies, of course, to the Federal Republic of Germany and not the German Democratic Republic, which is firmly anchored to the Russian communist bloc and infinitely poorer as a consequence. The determined industry of the Germans and Japanese, together with their high intelligence, have led to this new phase of development. Money has apparently proved a very acceptable substitute for military power - both countries were heavily punished for their aggressiveness - and is certainly safer, even if its influence does not have a noticeably more spiritual impact.

The field of world religion has also shown dramatic changes. The Jews, the very subject of Ezekiel's vision 2,600 years ago, have indeed been resurrected into a new people. Apart from the Israelis' military strength and emotional toughness, the wider Jewish community is now resolute, confident and self-affirming; though anti Judaism is still a force in the world, the somewhat cringing attitude the Jews had to their neighbours is now a thing of the past, and they are proud of their identity. The enormity of the Holocaust has certainly cleared their collective unconscious of any lingering guilt concerning their ancestors part in the death of Jesus. Their alleged cry to Pilate, when they chose Bar-Abbas for release and Jesus for death, "His blood be on us, and on our children" (Matthew 27:26), has been fully expiated by their descendants suffering. It is rather to the compliant Christian clergy in Nazi Germany that the stigma of guilt now attaches, a stigma that has cut down to size the erstwhile triumphalistic assurance of the Christian Church. But a wiser, less inflated Church is now much closer to the under-privileged, the downtrodden, and the politically oppressed. The prophets of Israel are no doubt sighing with relief at this transformation from their heavenly vantage ground!

In much of western Europe the people are largely ignorant of their Christian heritage, and the Church appears more like a missionary outpost than a bastion of spiritual identity. This in itself is not necessarily to be deplored, for those who now worship do so out of conviction and not compliant conformity. The resurgence of the Russian Orthodox Church is a case in point. Thrown ignominiously out of power by the communist regime, it has learnt humility both at home and in the west; its deeply spiritual roots and magnificent liturgy have won for it a significant number of converts among a questing population left unfulfilled by its native faith.

There has been a great outburst of ecumenical collaboration amongst the various Christian denominations in recent years. A most important turning point was the love of Pope John XXIII. His inspiration in convening the Second Vatican Council, despite much discouragement from those closest to him, summoned the most powerful of all the Christian communions, the Roman Catholic, out of the darkness of self-assured triumphalism into the light of questing openness to the present world with its burning incentive to human collaboration. But it must be admitted that the ecumenical movement speaks only to a minority of the population of nominally Christian countries; while it arouses considerable general interest, as do the pronouncements of various church leaders, its impact on the spiritual life of the masses is slight. And yet there is a deep yearning for illumination amongst many intelligent people who have found little inspiration in the traditional communions. The immigration of various Asian groups to Europe has led to the implantation of large Muslim, Hindu, Sikh and Buddhist communities in a society that was once solidly Christian with a modest admixture of Jews, who were cautioned to discreet silence in the face of general mistrust and ignorance. These Asian groups not only observe their own faiths far more zealously than do most nominal Christians, but have also contributed their quota of spiritual understanding to younger generations who are seeking more immediate religious experience and less traditional dogma. Certainly the current interest in meditation and prayer owes a considerable debt to the example and practice of Sufi, Hindu and Buddhist masters.

It is not uncommon for young, well-educated westerners to jettison their Christian faith and embark on the Asian journey to liberation and enlightenment. Some live for a considerable time in a Hindu ashram or attached to a Buddhist vihara, either locally or in an Asian country. But then comes a yearning for return. The spirit of Christ in their traditional background beckons many back home, and they return to the Christian fold with an understanding of a completely different order to that with which they had originally left. It is the Catholic tradition that receives most of these home-comers, who then discover that all they had learned was already available in the Christian way, though it had somehow been overlaid by a formalism that had almost obliterated the traces of its spirituality.

It needs also to be said that not all practitioners of the wisdom of the east are holy people. Charlatans abound, and there are also powerful psychic currents of great destructiveness in a very mixed religious milieu. But then the same is true of the western religious traditions, even though the evil may be more subtly masked and plausibly contained in imposing ecclesiastical structures. It is a general rule that a treatment which is completely harmless is also very likely to be useless. It is an undertaking fraught with danger to commit oneself to the spiritual path. Thus quite a number of well-educated young people are seduced into joining sinister cults whose leaders work towards their own wealth at the cost of a progressive degradation of their enslaved disciples. They are all, in fact, contemporary manifestations of the Antichrist, whose qualities we have already considered. But he is to be found also as a highly ranking dignatory in the most respected denominations, at least during some periods of their history: indeed, the history of religion is a fearsome testimony of the power of truth to bring to the surface all inner corruption. This is, no doubt, one purpose of religious commitment. It may be the deeper work of the devil in the person of his earthly representative, the Antichrist. When the necessarily destructive role of evil in the development of human consciousness is accepted, we can live more at ease with it as part of the total cosmic situation. Only there can the transfiguring love of God flowing down to us be received in our soul. This is the beginning of a new dispensation whereby all that lives will be progressively loosed of its selfish proclivities and find supreme satisfaction in the present moment. "Sin is necessary..." as Julian of Norwich was indeed told.

There are two polarities of religious practice: fundamentalism on the one hand and an undisciplined savouring of all the world's great faiths on the other. Fundamentalism ranges from a scriptural literalism to an earnest intention of returning to the primary source of the tradition, the fundamentals of the belief structure. It provides the believer with an assurance that is of enormous help day by day, but it fails to do justice to the human mind in its forward thrust to new encounters and endeavours. Above all, it inhibits the work of the Holy Spirit in his constant revelation of new interpretations of abiding truths. As Jesus told his disciples, "It is for your good that I am leaving you. If I do not go, your Advocate will not come, whereas if I go, I will send him to you" (John 16:7). This is soon followed by the observation, "There is still much that I could say to you, but the burden would be too great now. However, when he comes who is the Spirit of truth, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but will tell you only what he hears; and he will make known to you the things that are coming. He will glorify me, for everything that he makes known to you he will draw from what is mine" (John 16:12-14). The Holy Spirit does not assume an autonomous function of enlightenment: he reveals the depth of the human soul to the individual as well as pointing to the future state, the advent of Christ himself in the universe. In this way we may start to be re-created in the divine image, so that we may then come to share in the very being of God. But before this far-off event can occur, nothing can remain hidden, unexamined, rejected or unassimilated. All must return to its Creator.

An undisciplined savouring of the various traditions of human inspiration as codified in their religious beliefs brings with it a liberating tolerance and a transcendence of dogmatic exclusiveness. But it also tends to obliterate the necessary boundaries that define an individual personality, so that the genius of the person is dissipated in vague generalities. A faith is of most use to the world when it is most true to its own insights. A meandering type of religion that borrows indiscriminately from divers sources in an attempt to please everyone soon dissolves into a benign message of universal goodwill that helps no one in particular. Heracleitus made the famous observation that one cannot find out the boundaries of the soul, so deep are they. And yet while we are alive we are bound in circumscribed personalities. The statement of Heracleitus casts light on the deep psychic contact between individuals, and between them and God through the mediation of the creatures of the intermediate dimension whom we have already considered: the angelic hierarchy and the communion of the departed, some of whom are indeed sanctified. In a somewhat similar way we are bound to a particular ego consciousness which in the end has to be transcended to a soul awareness with its apex of divine immanence. But we cannot yield the ego until it is well formed; then alone is it worthy of sacrifice to God. "A grain of wheat remains a solitary grain unless it falls into the ground and dies; but if it dies, it bears a rich harvest" (John 12:24). Jesus goes on to teach that the man who lives for himself alone is lost, but the one who expends himself freely in this world will be kept safe for eternal life. However, he must have something first to expend, hence the necessity for individual self-actualization.

It is evident that neither fundamentalism nor an hospitable welcoming of any new influence is enough, although both approaches have their strengths. The great world religions generally have at present a strong fundamentalist contingent. Its members are bellicose and naïvely assured of divine assistance because of the rectitude of their cause. War can then easily assume a holy character. The Zionist victory in Palestine precipitated the full force of Arab nationalism, which has been nourished by resurgent Islamic fundamentalism. When fundamentalist groups from opposing factions confront one another, no meaningful communication can take place. The same situation is true of dogmatic Marxism in confrontation with the broad sweep of western capitalism. It is only the threat of nuclear warfare that has preserved a semblance of peace in the greater counsels of the world. Where there has been regional warfare of a "conventional" type, as in Korea, Vietnam and the Middle East, the casualty figures have frequently been very large. And the tragedy is overwhelming. Nevertheless, the trend towards world peace, though still limited, is significant at the present time. The Russians have discountenanced the policies of Stalin, who is now regarded as a psychopathic personality by many of his countrymen. The slow tendency to liberalization seems to be gaining a certain momentum in the current climate of opinion, while the USSR and the USA are working out in agonizing detail a policy of progressive nuclear disarmament. But only when there is real trust among the leaders of the nations can general disarmament proceed in full measure. Bellicosity is the front that conceals a yawning chasm of weakness; reconciliation speaks of mutual strength.

For peace talks to start it is first necessary for both parties to acknowledge that unilateral victory is impossible. For these talks to proceed, a spirit of love has to warm the frigid souls of the negotiators, so that they cease to act as powerful politicians with hearts of stone and become frail human beings with hearts of flesh. What starts as an act of expediency gradually broadens through self-knowledge and humility to deep compassion. Then only do wars become inconceivable as the law of love informs and transfigures the moral law set out in the last five of the Ten Commandments. "Love cannot wrong a neighbour; therefore the whole law is summed up in love" (Romans 13:10). The problem is how to acquire that love, not as a temporary rapture, but as a constant inward presence. In fact it is given constantly by God's grace, but we have to be ready in our own lives to receive it. In the words of the Magnificat, "The hungry he has satisfied with good things, the rich sent empty away" (Luke 1:53). In the language of the Beatitudes, "How blest are those who know their need of God; the, kingdom of Heaven is theirs" (Matthew 5:3). This poverty of spirit follows the long, arduous path of life when we are summarily disabused of all comforting illusions, when we enter the divine darkness and experience total separation from all human support as Jesus did during the period of his Passion. And then we know God as the coincidence of opposites, the resolution of all conflicting tendencies, the void that is the fullness of creation and yet stands outside it as an unknowable presence, fully available to all who call from the heart. "Come, all who are thirsty, come, fetch water; come, you who have no food, buy corn and eat; come and buy, not for money, not for a price" (Isaiah 55:1). With what then do we buy, since there is no price? Our gift is ourselves, while God's gift is himself. The enrichment is mutual as a new relationship is struck. "God became man in order that man might become God", says St Athanasius. "He was made what we are that he might make us what he is himself", affirms St Irenaeus.

Is our present age any nearer to the transfiguration of man than were the long periods behind us, illuminated by the witness of the saints of antiquity? It is hard to make a firm judgement, but on the whole we do live in a healthier, more compassionate world than that of our forebears: ignorant, powerless and fearful. There were then bright sparks of saintliness in a sea of dark ignorance. The vastly improved social conditions in many countries with the correspondingly enhanced literacy of the masses has meant that the man in the street is now in contact with vast ranges of thought that were previously beyond his grasp. And so the Stygian darkness of earlier times has been lit up by a diffuse, pale glow of aspiring humanity. There seem to be fewer masters of the spiritual life, but a greater interest among the general run of people in the things of the mind and the spirit. The dominance of the media of mass communication has aided this dissemination of knowledge. Of course, this somewhat rosy assessment of human advancement is belied by vast areas of mass starvation and premature death brought about through the poor distribution of resources. Still, there is a wider awareness of these enormities in the greater world than in times past, with a corresponding eagerness to redress the balance of human resources to the benefit of the many who have nothing to call their own, not even basic food supplies. The present situation is murky as the young independent nations forcibly demonstrate their newly found strength in their emancipated domains. It takes time for a young country to cope with the assimilation of its diverse elements, to say nothing of the urgency of economic progress and elementary education. The greater the weakness, the more necessary is the show of strength, whether of arms or cultural identity. It is in such an environment that religious fundamentalism is especially welcome, being emotionally satisfying as well as nationally affirming. It is good to have God on one's side, a god of judgement who favours his own disciples at the expense of heretics and unbelievers! Fundamentalist groups fan the flames of intolerance in many countries, working towards the eradication of anyone who threatens their domination. There is little love in the fundamentalist, only a fierce abhorrence that seeks to crush all opposing ideologies. He looks for an assurance that is, in fact, unattainable, not the love that alone can reconcile conflicting points of view in a synthesis that illuminates the individual genius to the benefit of the whole. Indeed, no gift flourishes in isolation; it has to be used and bestowed on the whole organism. We work to our best when we lose ourselves in forgetfulness in the joy of serving the community. Only then can an assurance of God's love come to us that fills us with renewed strength for the work ahead of us.

It is the general relaxation of moral principles, especially those pertaining to sex, that is one of the most conspicuous features of contemporary life. The situation is one of amorality, a total unconcern for moral standards, rather than vicious immorality, a deliberate flouting of those standards. Relationships are governed by emotional responses usually on a basis of urgent desire, but there is often little deeper commitment of the parties, so that marriage vows, when indeed they are made, are likely to be soon disregarded. One-parent families are increasingly common, while the practice of child abuse is emerging as a major social evil. It would be naïve to pretend that most of this is a novelty; whereas before it tended to be concealed beneath a façade of social respectability heavily impregnated by conventional religion, it has now been shown in its naked ugliness. For many people traditional values have been dismissed as archaic restraints heavily tinged with hypocrisy. The advent of seemingly safe sexual promiscuity following the development of successful contraceptive drugs has met with a dramatic check in the form of a previously unknown venereal disease, AIDS, which is as yet incurable. The virus of this terrible scourge apparently lay latent, possibly in Africa, until a mutation to virulence coincided with the world-wide sexual promiscuity and flaunting of unnatural practices of our own time. While I would not cite this as an example of God's wrath against a sinful generation - a God of love could not visit such suffering on his children - it seems evident to me that the law by which God sees to the government of the world is perfectly self regulating. If it is disregarded, it hits back with effects often out of all proportion in suffering to the original disobedience that started the process. The account of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is a quasi-historical application of this principle, as is also the probably more historical description of the drowning of Pharaoh's army in the Red Sea, and Joshua's complete annihilation of the cities of Jericho and Ai: the spiritually inadequate are supplanted by more worthy groups of people. Indeed, if these episodes are not seen in this context, the picture of God they portray is so terrifying that it would be difficult to trust in him, let alone love him. Fortunately, sins can be forgiven, hence the power of prayer by which means the Holy Spirit can infuse us with fresh resolve and inspiration to work towards the healing of the tragedy. In terms of the AIDS epidemic this inspiration embraces medical research aimed at immunization against as well as cure of the disease, social measures to prevent its spread as well as caring for its victims, and a fresh understanding of God's full purpose in the lives of his rational creatures. We were meant for a destiny higher than promiscuous genital satisfaction; only a knowledge of God himself can suffice in our lives, and then the appetites of the flesh will find their proper balance. It needs also to be remembered that some AIDS victims have acquired the disease adventitiously, following the therapeutic use of blood or its products that have been contaminated with the virus. Their lives may well have been models of chastity, but it is their burden to play their part in cleansing the world's stain. As we have already noted, none of us can evade responsibility for the corporate sin of our fellows, so inseparably are we all parts of the one body.

The progressive liberation of groups that had previously borne the stigma of discrimination, notably women, homosexuals, Jews, Blacks, and racial and religious minorities in general, has been accompanied by a release of resentment and anger on their part that has shown itself in an attitude of defiance towards the prevailing authorities and an aggressive desire for increasing power. This in turn not surprisingly evokes a reaction on the part of the established majority, who now feel threatened by the life styles and religious beliefs of those whom they previously despised if not actively persecuted. Indeed, as the basic law of physics has it: action and reaction are equal but opposite. For a time a liberal tolerance may accept the unfolding manifestation of new ways of living with sympathy, but once the process upsets the stability of the majority, they soon take steps to suppress all activity which could possibly end in chaos. Irresponsible liberalism can foster antinomianism, the flouting of the obligation to obey the moral law, whereas a rigid enforcement of traditional values ends up in such an imprisonment of the human spirit that all private endeavour is proscribed and inertia ensues. Both of these tendencies have been well represented in this century. The one thing they hold in common is a debased view of human nature; both are ultimately destructive of human endeavour as they undermine the power of the will to make independent decisions and then to implement them.

When the smouldering anger of various conflicting groups is ignited by personal affront, it can flare up with terrifying rapidity into communal violence. The world at present is in a similar state of incendiary instability. It is not surprising that we are constantly confronted with "the noise of battle near at hand and the news of battles far away", to quote Mark 13:7. The passage goes on to quieten our alarm, telling us that such things, and even worse, are bound to occur, for with them the birthpangs of the new age begin. Adventism, the forecasting of the actual time of the appearance of Christ who brings in the new age, has been discountenanced by the Church, for on one level the advent is constantly being inaugurated, and on another we are preparing for it as we grow in spiritual awareness. At the time when the birth pangs are most acute, all that has been fermenting deep within the psyche of the worldwide community rises to the surface with a shattering violence. But then it has to be accepted, accommodated, assimilated and given to God as our sacrifice. This is the dark part of our privilege in being created and in growing into maturity as people of integrity. This may be the real harvest of our century of unrelieved violence. In its early years an exhilarating liberalism held sway, inspired by the evolutionary theories of Charles Darwin and Herbert Spencer. Then came the two world wars; their barely credible brutality shattered the belief in a virtually automatic progress based on education and economic security. In fact, of course, the belief was founded on a pathetic ignorance of human nature: the show of outer urbanity simply concealed a stinking cesspit of slowly fermenting vice and cruelty. Now, at last, the products of this subversive fermentation have been released into the general atmosphere, and the population recoils from the impact of its stench. But at least the corruption lies exposed, so that a more determined, enlightened, united effort can be made to cope with it. This is surely the way of personal, no less than communal, restoration of health.

Life, indeed, has been infused into the dry bones of generations apparently destroyed in the vicious wars of our time. A fresh generation, in fact generations, have come to maturity, and new styles of living have been explored in which money is not the overall directive. We proceed precariously near the edge of a precipice of extinction, but the Spirit of God has not left us. Our mistakes are the steps on the ladder of our proficiency. They may prove to be more authentic than the imposed dogmas of the various religious denominations, perhaps even illuminating those dogmas in a way that a professional ministry may fail to accomplish, at least until it too has come to terms with the darkness inside itself.


Chapter 9
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