Tag Archives: bible

A Season of Awe

In recent weeks, I’ve been mulling over Dacher Keltner’s perspective on the different kinds of awe we can experience and how important these experiences are.[i]  I’ve also been aware we are in the season of Passover and Easter.  For more than 40 years, one of my responsibilities was to find fresh meaning in these stories; it’s a habit I have yet to break. I’ve been wondering: does Keltner’s work offer any insights to the spiritual meaning of the season?

At this point, I’m thinking of five specific points Keltner describes:

  • Awe-ful experiences.  While many experiences of awe are inspiring, we can also feel it when we witness something dark and harrowing, like the events of 9/11, contemplating the holocaust, or personal tragedies.
  • Awesome experiences: when we experience something beyond our understanding that is mysterious and fills us with wonder.
  • Moral courage: In Keltner’s research, this is the most frequently reported experience of awe.  We feel it when we see someone selflessly take on serious challenges for the good of others: social justice pioneers, foster parents, people navigating serious disabilities and hardships, etc.
  • Collective effervescence: The powerful feelings we can have when we are part of a group having a shared experience that takes us beyond our ordinary sense of life. This can be at athletic and musical events, moving purposefully in unison, worship services, etc.
  • Awe-inspired resolve: Witnessing or experiencing awe can give us courage to face difficult situations.

With these in mind, I thought of the Passover and Easter stories in a very basic way.  Do these familiar stories contain examples of awe?

Passover

(I am indebted to my Jewish friends and clergy for my understanding of Passover; I hope my comments are valid.)

                  The Hebrew people are suffering as exploited laborers in Egypt.  Moses has a personal divine encounter that directs him to lead them from bondage to freedom.  As he confronts Pharoah, seven disasters (“plagues”) fall upon Egypt, each reminders of how vulnerable human life is.  When the time is right, the people flee. They come to a body of water but have no way to cross.  They look back and see Pharoh’s army coming after them.  Death seems certain.

                  A way through the water appears. The people make their way to the other side, expecting Pharoah’s army to crush them. But the waters return, frustrating Pharoah’s intention. The time of oppression ends and a time of freedom begins.  Moses’ sister Miriam leads the people in celebration. 

                  Where are any elements of awe?

                  The experience of seeing an army approaching determined to destroy you when you are defenseless?  Awe-ful.

                  A mysterious force leads you to a liberated future?  Awesome.

                  Moses’ example, risking his life to lead the struggle?  Moral courage.

                  Joining Miriam in the dance of deliverance?  Collective effervescence.

Becoming a source of inspiration?  The story has been a constant source of inspiration from the early days of Israel up to the civil rights and liberation movements of our time.

Easter

                  Yeshua is a peasant who appears in first century Galilee, healing the sick and engaging people of every background.  He offers a vision of spiritual life embodied in what he calls “the kingdom of God.” In words and actions, he identifies with the poor and marginalized, assuring them of divine favor.  What he says and does threatens the social order.  He is arrested, convicted, and sentenced to death.  While in custody he is abused.  He is paraded through the streets and executed as a public display of the power of the state.  The men he chose to follow him flee. As he nears death, he feels even God abandons him. 

A few days later, several of his female followers come to his tomb.  They begin to have experiences that convince them his personal spirit lives and is present with them.  In the days to come, that experience is shared by a growing number of people.

                  Where are any elements of awe?

Imagining what it would be like to be dying in severe pain, separated from loved ones, and feeling total despair?  This is awe-ful.

Becoming convinced he survived the death of his body and is present with his followers — that darkness cannot extinguish divine light, and in the end, love is stronger than death? This is awesome.

                  Joining the circle of people who experience his risen presence celebrating what this means?  Collective effervescence.

                  Reflecting on his personal journey in those final days and hours, seeing his purpose was to serve and empower others? Moral courage.

                  Becoming a source of inspiration?  The story has inspired countless people, leading them to decide what is worth living for and how to approach death.

                  I believe both stories contain multiple elements of awe.  I have been in gatherings focused on both stories that uplift and inspire me and others. They remind us of what terrifies us.  They invite us to see life in a spiritual perspective, encouraging us to know there is light beyond the darkest of circumstances.  They teach us that our ancestors have overcome great hardship.  They encourage us to share the story, insights, and joy with others through celebration, community, and service. They give us hope and courage.

May we all welcome moments of awe in this season.

Featured image: “Italian Landscape,” Gustav Klimt, 1913

[i] Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life, Dacher Keltner, 2023

[iii] “The Offering of the Pipe,” Black Elk Speaks, John G. Neidhardt, ed., 1932

Our Motivations Don’t Have to Be Pure to Be Good

                  When I first began my spiritual journey, I was enthralled with the idea that I could escape the influence of my selfish ego and achieve some kind of saintly purity.  I’d seen what complete self-centeredness could do to my life, and like a prisoner for whom the jail door suddenly flew open, I couldn’t wait to find freedom.  I read accounts of saints and sages.  I experimented with meditation, recorded and analyzed my dreams, memorized Psalms, and sought spiritual guides. I read the Sermon on the Mount, which includes strong statements to discourage us from publicly displaying our spirituality when we are fasting, giving to charity, and praying. [i]

                  Fifteen years later I was driving downtown to volunteer at the local soup kitchen.  Two different voices within me began a conversation:

Inner Voice One: “I’ve been meaning to do this for some time. Glad I finally signed up and am on my way.” 

Inner Voice Two: “You know, be sure and tell your congregation you are doing this.  You’ll look good in their eyes.”

Inner Voice One: “What a selfish thing to think! I’m not doing this to show off. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do.”

Inner Voice Two: “Of course you are.  That’s great. But it won’t hurt your reputation to let people know you are doing this.”

I didn’t like Voice Two and could not silence it.  I was frustrated.

A few months later I was on a long drive north on Interstate 5. I thought again about the persistence of self-centered Voice Two.  I decided to try an experiment. I visualized Voice Two as a separate person standing in front of me.   I stared at him.  He looked uncomfortable and embarrassed being examined so carefully and kept looking downward. I began feeling compassion for Voice Two.  I realized it had never meant me any harm. It was there to speak up for me, protect me, always wanting to help me be somebody I could feel good about.  I stood in front of him.  I put my right hand on his shoulder.  “You know,” I said, “I now realize you work very hard on my behalf and always act with the best of intention.  I’m not going to get angry with you anymore.  I’m not going to try to get rid of you. Let’s be friends.  I’ll let you offer suggestions whenever you wish.  I just don’t want you to be in charge.”

It was a moment of inner reconciliation that brought me a sense of peace.  I gave up trying to be a saint. I accepted being someone who may often have mixed motivations that I need to sort through.  I would continue to engage in activities for a higher purpose but not get upset if I also hear Voice Two whispering to me how this might affect my reputation and self-esteem.  If I personally accomplish something that has been challenging for me, I am going to welcome feelings of pride and satisfaction.

Several years later, as part of my Hospice training, I attended a retreat at the Metta Institute which included Buddhist meditation practice. I learned one key principle: “Welcome everything, push away nothing.”[ii]  Rather than try to control everything our busy mind comes up with, we let all our thoughts arise; we then calmly examine them and choose which ones are worth engaging.   I have found that to be a practical way to manage all the different ideas, motivations and strategies that can arise within.

I do think there are saints in this world whose motives are always pure.  They don’t know they are saints.  They meet those Sermon on the Mount standards without thinking about it.  I know I’m not one of them.  But I don’t want my mixed motives to keep me from joining other people to get good things done and enjoy life along the way.

[i] Matthew 6: 1-8, 16-18

[ii] The Five Invitations: Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully, Frank Ostateski