Jesus – Page 2 – Steve Jacobsen, Ed.D

Letting Life Speak Through Us

Sitting quietly in my backyard early on a recent morning, I noticed the roses and shrubs near me. They’d changed since the last time I had seen them. For months they’ve been showing the same dark leaves. But now bright green growth is emerging. They have been waiting for signs the season is changing and now sense the time is right. I wondered: if plants have any level of self-awareness, what’s it like to be so calm and still for so long and then begin to make your move into spring?

Several months ago, I arrived early for mass at the Santa Barbara Mission. I appreciate the respect for privacy and silence which is the norm in Catholic churches. I found a seat in the middle of an empty pew near the rear. Seven or eight others were in solitude, some sitting, others kneeling. I closed my eyes and centered myself, then mentally named blessings and concerns, as well as my wish to be open to new possibilities. Then I opened my eyes and looked around. I thought about the others with whom I was sharing this space and time. I wondered what their own private thoughts and prayers were like. Did their “inner voice” sound like mine? What were they saying or asking for? Here we were, this random group of human beings, each in our own private world of thoughts and feelings. But all wanting to be open to something more.

Recently I gave a presentation to a local men’s group. My topic was how spirituality can be expressed in our everyday work. I shared stories about people who have found meaning in their labor. Afterwards, one of the men came up and handed me a note. He told me it was a question he had used many times to help people find direction: “What is Life trying to express through you?”

I believe the roses and shrubs know: “Our reason is to blossom, flourish and pass Life on.”

At times in my life, I’ve felt clarity about what I am being called to do. Now is a time when I’m not sure what season it is for me. The seasons of our life don’t always follow a set calendar – we must figure them out as we go.

What is Life trying to express through you this season?

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

The Parable of the Poisoned Arrow

Several years ago, I was listening to a series of lectures on Buddhism and heard “The Parable of the Poisoned Arrow.” It exists in several versions. Here’s a simple one:

“Suppose a man is struck by a poisoned arrow and the doctor wishes to take out the arrow immediately. Suppose the man does not want the arrow removed until he knows who shot it, his age, his parents, and why he shot it. What would happen? If he were to wait until all these questions have been answered, the man might die first.” The point: “Life is so short. It must not be spent in endless metaphysical speculation that does not bring us any closer to the truth.”

In some versions, the wounded man’s questions include the social class of the archer, his physical appearance, his hometown, what the bow was made of, what bird had supplied the feathers, etc. The questions are endless — but our time is limited.

When we are suffering physical pain, it is reassuring if the doctors can confidently identify and treat it. But sometimes they can’t. Years ago, I had a parishioner whose lungs were thickening and the tissues becoming increasingly stiff. After many tests, the doctors gave it a name: “Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis.” It took me a minute to grasp the meaning of that first word: “Idio-pathic.” There is a pathology going on, but we are “idiots” in terms of knowing exactly why. It’s a disease having no known cause. Not having a definitive name for it made the situation more difficult.

Our predecessors have tried to understand the source of our suffering and came up with many explanations. Maybe it’s karma – the mysterious burden of our ancestor’s behavior in past lives. Maybe it’s divine judgement – God does not let people get away with anything, so if we are suffering, we must have done something wrong. St. Augustine came up with the idea of “Original Sin,” claiming that death and suffering are a result of some act of disobedience in our ancient past.

In our modern age, we can seek the reasons for our emotional pain by exploring our family of origin: when you were a child, you adapted your behavior in response to what was going on in your family, and those behaviors have stuck with you ever since. Sometimes the insights are illuminating and liberating. Working with insightful counselors over the years, I can see how many of my behaviors are explainable based on my family’s dynamics. But I’ve also known families with six children, all of whom turn out very differently. And sometimes knowing the source doesn’t improve our lives at all.

When we are suffering, do we need to know every reason behind our condition? Or is it enough to pull the arrow out as quickly as possible so we can move forward?

I know a woman who suffered from panic attacks. She had seen counselors and talked to friends, but nothing helped. She went to see someone who specialized in anxiety. At the first session, she was surprised that he did not delve very much into her past or her emotions. Instead, he focused on the thought processes she experienced when she began to feel anxious. She came back for more sessions and soon she was experiencing some relief. She was still “wired” as she’d always been, and the causes for that may never be known. But he helped her focus on the runaway train of her thinking patterns and ways to redirect it; the aim was to get the arrow out, rather than knowing why it was there in the first place.

Buddhism does not focus on mystical speculation as to why our suffering is here. It focuses on ways to alleviate it.

In many of the Gospel stories, someone comes to Jesus with a problem. He seems to understand what they need in that moment and offers a shift in their focus. Maybe it’s being assured of divine forgiveness apart from social prejudices and self-doubt. Maybe it’s with a healing touch. Maybe it is by inspiring them to go beyond themselves to love and care for others. There’s no interest in speculation – the focus is redirecting each person in ways they can live their life with grace and freedom in the here and now.

Looking back on my life, I see that many people who have died in peace have given up trying to understand the deep reasons for anything. They just live life as best they can and help others as much as they are able.

The questions about the deeper causes of our suffering can be endless — but our time is limited.

Your Purpose Is More Important Than Your Plan

It seems some people follow a straight, well-planned path in life: they set goals and expectations day after day, year after year — and achieve them. But for most of us, events can disrupt our plans. It could be something affecting only me, or something like COVID that impacts everyone. We can be left with feelings of loss, discouragement and confusion. What can I expect in life? Isn’t there some divine plan that is designed to make me happy? Or was the plan to make me suffer? Or is there no plan at all?

Over the centuries, these are questions that have been pondered and debated by countless people in many spiritual traditions. Today I’m offering my personal perspective by focusing on a fascinating story from the Jesus tradition as exists in the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 5.

As we pick up the story, Jesus has become increasingly popular due, in large part, to his healing power. The day begins when a local leader, Jairus, comes to him and begs him to come to his house and heal his daughter, who is close to dying. Jesus agrees.

On the way, a woman who has been suffering from hemorrhages for 12 years comes up behind him. Her condition makes her “unclean” in the culture of that time, so she can’t seek him out publicly like Jairus. But, she hopes, if she can just sneak up behind him and touch his cloak, she might be healed. She carefully approaches, touches the cloak and immediately senses in her body that she is healed.

At that moment, Jesus also has a visceral, somatic experience – “power had gone forth from him.” Taken by surprise, he turns and asks who touched him. The disciples reply: with so many people close by, how can they know? The woman reluctantly steps forth “in fear and trembling” and confesses. He does not condemn her. Instead, he says “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace…” He then resumes his walk to Jairus’ house, where he takes the little girl by the hand and brings her out of her coma.

The story is rich in implications. As the philosopher Paul Ricœur put it, great spiritual texts (like lasting works of art) have a “surplus of meaning” – more than just one point. For today’s question, I will focus on consciousness and decision making.

Imagine if we can “get inside” Jesus’ consciousness as he started that day. What did he know, and when did he know it? When he woke up, did he know Jairus would come to him? Did he anticipate the act of the woman?

Jesus has been described as a “Spirit Man,” one of those people who has a much deeper level of awareness than most. People in the Gospels find it uncanny the way he can “read them” and know what they are thinking. I’ve known a few people in my life who have had that ability, so I believe it exists. And I’m guessing he had it in spades.

However, I think if we take the story at face value, his encounter with the bleeding woman is written in a way to suggest Jesus did not anticipate it — he’s surprised and taken off guard. If he had a “plan” for his day, this encounter was not part of it. Or, to put it another way, if he started out with a plan for the day, he had to adapt the plan to fit real events. Some years ago, it struck me: he had to change his plans, but he did not have to change his purpose. His purpose was to exhibit divine justice, grace and compassion. The woman unexpectedly touching his cloak became not a cause of frustration, but a new opportunity to express his purpose. He could fulfill his purpose regardless of unanticipated events that came his way, presented to him by the choices other people make.

This has been a liberating insight. My day may go “all according to plan.” Or it may be interrupted by all kinds of events — some positive, some not. Living a spiritual life does not mean we have to assume we are to follow a preordained script. Rather, it means we try to keep clarity about what is most important to us and others in moments of unexpected events and decisions; we assume we need to be creative in adapting to the ups and downs that come our way.

The divine presence never leaves us and is always ready to help us improvise in a way that stays true to those deeper purposes. Remember that when events – big or small – interrupt our plans.