The Crack Where the Light Gets In

Or, Christmas on the Event Horizon

Photo by the author

Disclaimer: As I refer to quantum physics in the following story, I make no claim to have a strong understanding of the concepts. I simply share my perspective based on my somewhat intuitive interpretation of what I have read about it.

A number of years back, I was reading the Diane Duane Young Wizards series. I came to the series on the recommendation of my son, and I truly enjoyed the story. In this series, the wizards’ work is to slow down the entropy that was introduced into the world when one of the Powers of the Universe went rogue, becoming the Lone Power, or the Lone One.

It isn’t hard to draw parallels between this plotline and Judeo-Christian tales of fallen angels and the beginning of death in the world. However, the theology of Duane’s young adult series is not that of traditional religious teachings; rather, it’s more mystical…and more scientific.

Ms. Duane has an educational background in astronomy and astrophysics, and may not have been thinking about theology…but I was. What I was reading about in her books was Process Theology. Duane was writing about life and death. She was writing about teamwork and she was writing about hope.

That’s what it’s all about, you know; hope and our part in maintaining hope in our world.

Death is not the end of things. Isn’t that one of the real messages of religion, that there is nothing to fear from death? Doesn’t religion teach that we are to work together, to give one another hope when the darkness seems inevitable?

The young wizards in the series each have their own Ordeals to undergo, and their own tasks to perform, yet they work with one another to keep the Lone One at bay. In the third book of the series, High Wizardry, Ms. Duane writes of the Lone One, “…It doesn’t have infinite power. It’s peer to all the Powers, but not to That in Which They Move.”

According to Luke, in Acts 17, Paul taught that we “live and move and have our being” in God. Jesus claimed that he was The Light of the World, yet in his Sermon on the Mount, he is recorded as teaching that we are the Light of the World.

How can that be? How can both be true?

Process Theology uses the language of quantum physics to explain the invisible intelligence behind — and in — all creation.

“Wave and particle,” writes theologian Marjorie Suchocki in Divinity and Diversity: A Christian Affirmation of Religious Pluralism, “are both truly light, and we live in a radically incarnational world where truth itself is a many-splendored thing.”

Like the quantum elements of light, God is like a wave that is constantly moving and flowing, until such time as a thinking being perceives the Presence of God. At that point, God is like a particle, and that particle is named according to the cultural expectation of the one who perceives that Presence.

In scientific arenas, that “perceiver” is called the “observer.” For the Christian observer, that “particle” is named Jesus.

I believe that Jesus is a “manifestation of God with us;” as Suchocki writes in God-Christ-Church: A Practical Guide to Process Theology. To continue with the analogy of quantum physics, Jesus is an observable particle of the wave that is God. He is a particle of the Light that when observed reflects the qualities of the ineffable, invisible wave of “All That Is.”

I might call the birth and death of Jesus “event horizons.” In quantum physics, the event horizon is the boundary of a black hole. To enter into a black hole would mean certain death. In his popular book A Brief History of Time: From the Big Bang to Black Holes, physicist Stephen Hawking describes a black hole as a “boundary of the region of space-time from which it is not possible to escape.”

Yet, he describes a singularity as “a point in space-time at which the space-time curvature becomes infinite.” The birth and subsequent resurrection, then, are the “singularities,” for once born, Jesus is an identifiable individual in history; once resurrected, Christ is infinite.

The hope we find in this story is this: as Jesus was the Light of the World, so also are we. We are, each and every one of us, manifestations of “All That Is,” or as Diane Duane writes, “That In Which [We] Move.”

Born of the wave into this material world, we are truly the Light of the World. When we see that, when we connect with the Christ, who is with us in the Holy Spirit, we know the Light as Love, and we begin to reflect it. This is our job. We are the wizards of this world, trusted to slow down the darkness of death and shine the light on eternal love.

We are not perfect reflections of God’s love; indeed, we are flawed and we sometimes fear the things we do not understand. We don’t understand death, this threshold between this world and the next. We don’t understand other people, these also flawed beings whose light may not shine as brightly as another’s or who may seem not to shine any light at all. We need not be perfect.

We need to keep letting our light shine so that it might get into the cracks and ignite their glorious flame. As poet Leonard Cohen wrote, “There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”

This Christmas, as we light our candles, say our prayers, and sing our hymns, let us risk allowing our cracks to show, that we might find ourselves poised on the edge of the event horizon, welcoming the Christ into the world.

Let us remember that we are all brilliant particles of the Light of God, and we shine the brightest when we shine together.

(c) Suzy Jacobson Cherry

Ordinary Objects, Sacred Space

The simplicity of connecting with the Divine

---

It seems sometimes that wherever people go to collectively honor their concept of the Divine, they just arrive at a place, do some things, feel something nice, and then go home. Hopefully, they try to bring the inspiration of that experience into the world. Often, though, they set aside the time spent seeking divine inspiration as separate from their experiences in the world. For many, the special connection, or “nice feeling” they get when coming together to honor the Divine is only accessible at the place they go during the time they are at that place.

However, there are many different things that together make the sacred experience so much more than the place and the activity in that place. Consider the kinds of items people use when they spend time with the Divine.

Ordinary objects

I have been given the opportunity to experience many different ways in which objects are used in religious settings. From the tactile pleasure of holding a book in my hands while singing (though I don’t read music and can’t carry a tune in a bucket) to the lovely sounds of crystal bowls, drums, and acoustic or even electric guitars, the way objects are used when celebrating the Divine or in meditation can increase the level of spiritual movement in a religious experience. In particular, the way sound is created and used can enhance an experience to amazing heights.

Inspiration through the senses

While I am not a huge fan of the organ, I appreciate certain ways that a good organist can speak to my spirit. When I think about my not being a fan of the organ, I realize that it is hilarious that I am a huge fan of the bagpipes. Well-played bagpipes at a memorial service — or any time, to be honest — are extremely moving to me. There is something thick and nourishing about the pipes and drums.

Musical objects can create a spiritual adventure out of an experience that others might see as mundane. An afternoon at the Renaissance Festival spent watching belly dancers move to doumbek and tambourine can be almost religious to me. The sounds, the sights, and the smells that go along with the experience create an atmosphere that moves me beyond time and space. I am moved to become one with the music; my mind expands into the ether.

Statues, iconography, small bits and pieces of the world around us placed on altars or around the periphery can make a place sacred. Incense or candles, flowers, or green boughs can bring such olfactory delights that one can imagine oneself outside the bounds of time.

Creating sacred space at home

Think about the space where you gather with others to connect with the Divine. Notice how the smallest things placed around a table become metaphors for the connection between us and that which is transcendent. Notice how the simplest of objects can transform an ordinary table, an ordinary room, an ordinary building or backyard, or even just a tiny shelf in an entertainment center into a sacred space.

Do you have a place in your home where you spend time alone in meditation or prayer? What do you use to create your sacred space?

---

The first iteration of this story was posted in a course called Spirituality and Sensuality: Sacred Objects in Religious Life, which I took in 2015 from Hamilton College through Edx. The professor was S. Brent Plate, author of A History of Religion in 5 1/2 Objects: Bringing the Spiritual to Its Senses

The Divine Feminine: An Introduction

(c) Suzy Jacobson Cherry

Note: This story was first presented as a speech in my Comparative Religions course at Arizona State University in 2004. At the time, Neo-Paganism was not as well known as it has become today. This is a rather simple, short introduction to the concepts of Neo-Paganism, the Divine Feminine, and archetypes.

Mother Suzy's goddess altar

Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Innana

This chant is a popular invocation of some of the goddesses called upon by thousands of practicing Neo-Pagans around the world. While I am going to talk to you today about the Divine Feminine in the Neo-Pagan movement, I want to give you an overview of what Neo-Paganism is.

It’s important that I underline the fact that I cannot speak on behalf of all Neo-Pagans, as by definition, the Pagan movement is non-dogmatic and non-evangelical. I am certain that there are many of you here who have not heard the term, “Neo-Pagan.” However, I will assure you that there are thousands of individuals who have chosen an alternative religious path that falls under that heading.

Neo-Pagan, or more commonly, simply Pagan, religions include — but are not limited to, Wicca, an earth religion also known as modern Witchcraft; Asatru, which is a resurgence of the worship of the Norse pantheon; and Druidism, which is styled after what is known about the ancient Celtic bardic tradition. Each of these paths is based on pre-Christian religions, embellished with modern interpretations and combinations of belief systems and forged into a new non-Christian way of perceiving the world. Hence, the term, Neo-Pagan.

Wicca is recognized by the US Government as a legitimate religion. Because of this, followers of other Neo-Pagan paths may term themselves Wicca. Wiccans follow a myriad of traditions, many of which include elements from other pagan religions. Some Wiccans and other Pagans claim to be of a tradition that has continued from pre-Christian times.

However, in reality, the Neo-Pagan movement can probably be pinpointed as having begun with the Spiritualist movement in the late 19th Century. This came on the tail of the Enlightenment and included everything from table tapping and séances to an earnest interest in traditional magical beliefs as well as an opening up of Masonic practices and the founding of the Golden Dawn.

Lay historians, interested in the Celtic Druid past, began to revive the religion, gathering at Stonehenge and other stone circles at the Solstices. In mid-20th century England, Gerald Gardner claimed to have been taught an ancient “craft of the wise,” and with the help of Doreen Valiente began the modern movement. Their tradition came to be known as Gardnerian Wicca.

In the 1960s, Alex Sanders founded a tradition, called Alexandrian. Each of these groups created their own “Book of Shadows,” which is actually a collection of meditations, mysteries, prayers (known as “spells”), tests, rituals, and other pertinent information. The books were kept secret, partly because of a fear of harassment and even often arrest, as in many places practicing “witchcraft” was still illegal.

The late 1960s brought with it a new interest in Spiritual pursuits. It was during these times that Alexandrians, Gardnerians, and members of other secret societies began to open up and share some of their beliefs, information, and, yes, their knowledge.

By 1967, the summer of love, new Wiccan groups were emerging, and members were breaking away to follow a solitary path. They began to write books. The modern Neo-Pagan Movement had begun. Today, there are literally thousands of Neo-Pagans of many traditions in the US, the UK, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, Scandinavia, and various European countries.

The Neo-Pagan interpretation of deity varies. It spans from true animism — all things in nature have “spirit,” to believing that deity is simply nature personified. Some Neo-Pagans are true pantheists — believing that there are many separate gods. Some believe in a complex cosmology in which there is one genderless creator god that has multitudinous aspects that are personified by the pantheism of gods and goddesses. These gods and goddesses are taken from many ancient and modern religions.

There are as many belief systems as there are believers. One of the main tenets of a Neo-Pagan is that one’s relationship with the gods is personal. Groups may select a certain set of deities to honor, but they do not necessarily exclude the existence of others, and may actually call upon others from time to time.

A new category has even emerged in the last couple of years that calls itself “ChristoPagan.” While there are Neo-Pagan groups that do not recognize masculine deity, I know of none that deny feminine deity. Some elements of Neo-Paganism, especially Wicca, are often referred to as “the goddess movement.”

No matter how deep the actual belief in the existence of deity as real, many Neo-Pagans recognize the pantheon as archetype. This interpretation is absolutely Jungian in its approach, and came to be understood in this manner more strongly as the 21st Century approached. It was interpreted and explained in detail by the late Joseph Campbell, and reported to the general public in interviews with Bill Moyers.

It is this archetypical interpretation of the Divine Feminine that I will address today. I have chosen to share information gleaned from a book entitled The Song of Eve by Manuela Dunn Mascetti. This is a beautiful book that addresses the various feminine archetypes as they apply to women.

I must note, however, that the feminine archetype is important to men, as well; for to be a whole individual, the duality within must be recognized.

When I gave my presentation, I used photos of the artwork from Mascetti’s book. These paintings, statues, and other pieces are truly lovely.

In this story, I am using illustrations which I can be certain are in the Public Domain.

Apollo (left) and Artemis. Brygos (potter signed), tondo of an Attic red-figure cup, c. 470 BC.
Louvre, Paris — photo by Marie-Lan Nguyen is in the public domain

Artemis

Artemis is the maiden goddess, she of the silver bow and the Hunt. She had not born children, and is unattached to the conventions that society dictates for women. Artemis, also known as Diana, is deeply intuitive, fearless, and enthusiastic about life. She is a take charge kind of girl, acting immediately once she has decided what to do. Although Artemis is virgin and childless, she is the protrectress of childbirth and of death.

Artemis, under the name of Diana, is the patron goddess of many feminist Neo-Pagan groups. One tradition is specifically called “Dianic.” Dianic groups — often also known as Dianic Covens — are matriarchal, female led, and most often honor the Lady alone. This is not to say that they may not sometimes pay homage to the masculine in the form of a god, often known generically as the Lord. There are Dianic Covens that consist only of women. However, there are also groups that include men who have chosen this path.

The Artemis archetype represents an independent and free feminine spirit. Unfettered by conventional expectation of womanhood, the woman who identifies with Diana has an innate wisdom that leads her to make the right choices. She must be herself in all things, including relationships with all people. To encourage one’s connection to the Artemis archetype is to find one’s inner strength and inner focus.

Other virgin goddesses include Athene, Vesta, and Hestia.

Lithograph of Kali — Public Domain from Picryl

Kali

Kali is the terrible Hindu goddess known as the Creator and the Destroyer. Kali is likely the most powerful feminine archetype in the entire collective of pantheons. Her influence can be extremely empowering, or it can have devastating effects. According to Mascetti, a Hindu woman who dedicates herself to Kali courts danger. For instance, Ms. Mascetti reports an incident that occurred when she visited a female penitentiary in southern India. She observed a young woman, about 25 years old, who was praying incessantly to Kali.

The guide told her story — she was married, with three small children, and had become infatuated with Kali, the bloodthirsty goddess. She began praying to her to receive psychic power. One night, she killed her husband and cut to pieces her three children with an ordinary kitchen knife. This is an extreme example of the influence of the identification with such a powerful archetype. However, in the Hindu system, women are actually quite powerless in the area of marriage and it may be an extension of the hopelessness engendered by that situation.

For Western Neo-Pagans, however, Kali is recognized as the ultimate feminist. She is the all-powerful giver and taker of life. Kali can be called upon to empower a woman and to assist her in destroying negative aspects of her life, such as trauma, abusive marriages, and the like. If a woman can recognize the Kali aspect of her self, she can become empowered to move forth in her life — to destroy the negative and create new, positive avenues for herself.

The Mother

The Mother archetype is extremely complex. It encompasses pregnancy, but more importantly, includes the experience of childbirth, which is an experience shared by all humanity.

The Mother goddess is one of the oldest symbols known, for it is in the act of giving birth that the world is seen anew. Mother love transforms the child into adult and nurtures the new growth of all things. Mother represents many things, from the blissful comfort of the womb to the warmth of Mother’s arms.

Modern non-Pagans will recognize the Mother in “Mother Nature,” or in the Native American references to Mother Earth. The Mother is represented by the full, pregnant moon. She is honored at the full moon as The Goddess in her many aspects.

She is known by many names — all of which are called upon by Pagans worldwide. Those names include Demeter, Ceridwen, The Lady, Eve, and even Mary. Another name for the Mother is Isis.

Deesse Isis. Artist: Felix Bonfils. Artist Bio: French, 1831–1885.
Creation Date: 1867–1885. From Picryl

Isis

In ancient Mesopotamia, Isis was honored as a benevolent Queen who enriched both humankind and the land. Her powers represent both the human and the divine, as she conceived her son Horus and grieved the sacrificial death of her husband Osiris. According to the story, Isis impregnated herself with Osiris’ semen after his death. Osiris had been murdered by their brother. Isis searched the Nile delta until she found Osiris’ body. She hid the body while she visited her son Horus, but the jealous brother found the boy and broke it into 14 pieces, scattering them all around. Queen Isis found each piece, molded into the gods’ image with clay, and gave a piece to the chief priest of every region where a part of Osiris was found. In this way, Osiris was worshipped in all regions of Egypt. Isis came to bring to life the origins of all things and the center of female power. It is interesting that Isis was worshipped as a virgin mother, and portrayals of her suckling Horus were later borrowed by Christianity to represent the Virgin Mary.

As an archetype, Isis motherhood is strong and independent. She is not dependent or subordinate in any way to the father of her children. Rather, she is a woman and his lover, but her role as mother and her role as companion to a man are quite separate.

My mother told me once, long ago, that all mothers are witches. Isis is the absolute illustration of this. The Isis woman has an intuitive knowledge of her husband and children, often to the point that they feel that she “breaks the laws of privacy in her eagerness…for them to…act according to her own view of life.” An Isis woman is often perfectly at ease being a single parent, providing all comforts, sustenance, and discipline herself.

To call on Isis is to cultivate this intuitive nature and independent strength in one’s self.

Headpiece by Adolphe Giraldon featuring Vesta, patron of the month of December
from Wikimedia Commons

Vesta

In ancient Rome, Vesta was considered the protrectress of the hearth. She was the oldest Goddess-Matriarch of Rome, and her temple in the imperial city stood for hearth of Rome. The hearth contains the fires of existence. Vesta, known as Hestia in the Greek pantheon, is another form of the Mother Goddess, but she is a Priestess of Wisdom.

It is an Earth wisdom, for figuratively it is the ashes of her lover the Corn King, who was sacrificed so that his blood could fertilize the Earth that Vesta keeps burning. Vesta’s priestesses were called the Vestal Virgins. They took a vow of chastity and were symbolically married to the phallic deity of the Palladium. If a Vestal Virgin broke her vow of chastity, she was buried alive.

As an archetype, Vesta represents woman’s inner wisdom. She is a priestess who takes all events in her life as a spiritual lesson to be learned on the path toward transcendence. She can seem detached in personal relationships, because Vesta is the otherworldly transcending spirit.

The Celtic version of Vesta is Brigid, also called Brigit or Bride, who has been turned into a Catholic Saint over the years. Her day of Celebration is February 2. Neo-Pagan practitioners often honor her by writing poetry, gathering around a bonfire overnight, sharing their works and words, and greeting the Dawn with a ritual and libation to the Brigid. Brigid is also the patron goddess of brides to be, for they are about to spark their own hearth and keep the home fires burning.

Muse, perhaps Clio, reading a scroll (Attic red-figure lekythos, Boeotia, c. 430 BC)
— photo by Klügmann Painter on Wikimedia Commons

The Muse

The muse is a feminine archetype of the inspiring nature of Woman in art, music, and poetry. The muse represents the purely instinctual female, who is irresistible to men. She is not aware of herself, but creates herself in her man’s own image.

This is the archetype called upon by artists and actors to aid them in finding voice for their talents. The Neo-Pagan may invoke the spirit of the Muse in preparing rituals and spell-work. The Muse is malleable, becoming what is expected of her. She is the reflection of the man whose nature she mirrors.

The Muse is not an archetype that most women would wish to cultivate. While she is everyman’s dream girl, she is no one. As Ms. Mascetti says, “As long as the Muse archetype is the only one working in a woman’s psyche, she will appear as non-human.”

Aphrodite — photo from Needpix

Aphrodite

You’ve probably wondered when I’d get to this one. Aphrodite, as most people are aware, is the Goddess of love. She is not a goddess of fertility, but of love lived out of freedom. Aphrodite’s magic is the love that heals the hearts of men and restores their balance in the universe. Aphrodite is not the “love” experienced when one “falls in love.” She is that eternal and deeply fulfilling unbounded love outside of temporal boundaries.

Aphrodite is not the goddess of marriage, either. She is not representative of monogamous fealty. While in mythology Aphrodite was married to Hephaestus, she bore no children to him. However, she bore three children to Ares, God of War. Their relationship symbolizes the union of the two most uncontrollable passions of humanity — love and war. Their children are a daughter, Harmonia, and two sons, Terror (Deimos) and Fear (Phobos).

With the god Hermes, Aphrodite bore the god Hermaphroditus. Aphrodite also had relationships with many mortal men. Sometimes, they would ask for her. Often, she would transform into a human maiden and seduce the man of her fancy.

Aphrodite is absolutely the mistress of her own love life. However, she is not reckless, but is wise in all matters of relationship. She is protective of her husband, her lovers, and her children. She helps the gods, goddesses, and humans alike.

A woman who is being influenced by the archetypal Aphrodite is one who is in love. She feels different — giddy, silly, shaky, and foolish. However, Aphrodite’s touch gives a magnetic energy that will pull the man in as well. When a woman denies Aphrodite’s influence, for fear of the dangers, the goddess’s revenge is the sad thought that perhaps she has thrown away her chance at “Mr. Right.”

Those women who have a strong influence from this archetype loves herself first, and is in love with being in love. She will treat her man as a god. However, often, as he begins to show his more unattractive traits, the Aphrodite woman will tend to move on.

The Aphrodite archetype can be “awakened” by caring for one’s self, and allowing time for love to come into one’s life.

Aphrodite’s Roman name is Venus. Related, but different, goddesses include Hera, the goddess of Marriage; Astarte, goddess of fertility; Salome, the Seductress; and possibly Eve, in her role as seductress.

Marilyn Monroe in Modern Screen magazine, 1952 — Public Domain photo from Picryl

Marilyn

There are many, many archetypal entities throughout world mythology that touch on aspects of our humanity. These archetypes are symbols of the characteristics they possess. No person is one specific “type” of person, although they may exhibit dominant characteristics. The goddess archetypes mentioned earlier are but a few of the hundreds in existence. Often, a person may identify greatly with one archetype or another, or may desire to cultivate the characteristics of a specific archetype.

The Neo-Pagan may simply call upon that goddess/archetype for assistance in some kind of magical working, such as something to help find love. In such a case, Aphrodite or a related goddess from another culture may be invoked.

There are many modern-day examples of archetypal persons. One of the most enduring symbols of Love and Seduction in the late 20th and early 21st Century is the late Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn, in creating her public persona, became one of popular culture’s most beloved sex symbols.

As Marilyn has become an icon, she also became an archetype. Her breathy songs, her exaggerated sensual movements, the sleepy eyes and mysterious smile have all lent themselves to the creation of a sort of “American Aphrodite.”

Men want and fear Marilyn, for she seems vulnerable yet made of steel. Women want to be Marilyn. Despite — or perhaps because of — her untimely death almost 60 years ago, Marilyn has come to represent love and sex in the unrestrained context of an Aphrodite.

This presentation was meant to introduce my classmates and professor to the concept I addressed in my paper that semester. In the paper, I dealt with this issue of a modern archetype more closely, relating specific elements of the ”Marilyn” persona to goddesses from a variety of cultures.

***

If you'd like, you can read the paper on Marilyn on Medium here.

Take a Moment to Remember

The National Moment of Remembrance encourages all Americans to pause wherever they are at 3:00 pm local time on Memorial Day for a minute of silence to remember and honor those who have died in service to the nation. Carmella LaSpada, the founder of the Moment of Remembrance states: “It’s a way we can all help put the memorial back in Memorial Day.”

Arlington National Cemetery -- photo by W.A. Cherry, Jr., 2013

All the dead of all the wars

Like the women of Columbus, Mississippi in 1865, I look around the world and think of the dead soldiers of all the wars that have ever happened. I think of those who were “enemies,” dead and buried either at home or abroad, and I think they all need to be remembered. What better day to remember the sacrifices of all those who fought and died for what they believed to be right, or at the command of their leaders right or wrong, than the day we honor our own?

***

You can read the rest of this story, Don't Thank a Veteran on Memorial Day, on Medium.

Easter, Suffering, and Enlightenment

 An Interspiritual Perspective on facing darkness and moving forward on our spiritual paths from Mother Suzy

The Tower — painting by the author

We are in a time of change and rebirth. It’s part of a cycle that repeats itself along with the journey of the earth around the sun and the moon around the earth. Cultures throughout history have noted this time of year as a reawakening of life and of hope.

It is spring.

Before spring arrives, there is a time of darkness, both literally and figuratively. For Christians, the forty days prior to Easter comprise a time of contemplation called Lent. For some, it is a time to sacrifice something that distracts them from their spiritual journey.

At the beginning of Lent, I always think of The Tower card in Tarot. You see, the symbolism of the card is about life changing: breaking down old ways of seeing things and interpreting events. It’s about realizing that something drastic has to happen sometimes before we can move on.

I think that the time people spend in prayer at Lent is about that very thing. As we look into ourselves and see how we can actually change the way we respond to the world physiologically because of the way we respond psychically (or emotionally or mentally or whatever other non-physical word you feel most comfortable with), we tear down our old walls.

We allow ourselves to flow out of the tumbling bricks. The Tower is surrounded by a moat of stagnant waters. When the bricks fall and the gate crashes down, the moat cracks and the waters return to the greater waters, becoming something alive again. We are all finding new ways of being alive.

I can’t help but think that this card is all about Lent. It’s all about sacrifice and resurrection — rebirth. Each of us, as we seek to learn about ourselves and how we can help others with the things that we learn in this life undergo a time of sacrifice, splaying open our hearts and laying them out for all to see.

After that, what can there be, but resurrection?

---

Is suffering necessary or is it simply inevitable?

In their book, Proverbs of Ashes, Rebecca Ann Parker and Rita Nakashima Brock argue that the theology of suffering which is so prevalent in Christianity is harmful. They contend that it has led to the mistreatment of others and the acceptance of mistreatment against the self to the detriment of humanity. They contend that suffering is not necessary for salvation.

There are entire denominations that hinge their theological standpoint on the understanding that suffering is necessary for salvation. From the Thursday before Easter, known as Maundy (from the Latin word mandatum, or commandment) Thursday until Easter Sunday morning, Christians worldwide gather to commemorate the betrayal and the suffering of Jesus. For many, it is a celebration of a sacrifice so great that it changed the world.

Like Parker and Brock, I question the necessity of suffering as a means of salvation.

Is it really necessary? Must we suffer in order to become authentically who God means for us to be? Is suffering necessary to reveal our true identity?

For many of those who consider Jesus to be the unique incarnation of the Divine, his true identity was not revealed until after his physical death. It was not even revealed during a short walk along the road to Emmaus with his own followers, who did not recognize him.

It has been suggested that had Jesus not been tortured, had he not suffered and died a horrible death, he might not be remembered today. But does this mean that it was necessary? Does this mean that our own suffering is necessary?

Or is the idea that we must suffer in order to transform a result of our own failure to accept responsibility for our own actions? Do we transform because we suffer, or do we transform because we respond to the call of the Divine to use our experiences for good, no matter how bad those experiences might be?

There is a saying that goes, “The Lord never gives us more than we can handle.” For many, this is a soothing platitude.

I say it’s a crock.

God does not give us suffering. God gives us our lives and our breath. God gives us creation. God gives us community. God gives us love. God gives us the potential for infinite beauty in a multivalent creation. God gives us a breathtaking song of Becoming that calls us toward our ultimate potential for good. It is an eternal call and response.

God calls, we respond. We call, God responds.

If we listen for our own song, the one that the Universe sings to our own soul, and respond in love, we can transform without suffering. We can transcend suffering.

In the real world, suffering happens. It is the nature of existence in a physical world. Suffering happens and when it does, we can justify it or we can rectify it.

We can listen for the song of the Divine even in the midst of the ugliness, and we can transform. Or, we can ignore it and continue to create a protective covering of inauthentic identity.

To believe that God sends us horrible experiences in order to force transformation upon us is to believe in a cruel, manipulative God. To believe that God knows the suffering we will endure and allows it “for our own good” is contrary to the belief in a God of love.

Maundy Thursday is a holy day in the Christian cycle of redemption. For many it is a day that commemorates the suffering of Christ. I prefer to see it as a commemoration of community. According to the story, Jesus gathered with his disciples for a Passover meal, in which he acknowledged his awareness that he was in a precarious position with the Roman authorities.

He knew that he would be betrayed; it is a human thing, betrayal. We betray those we love in order to save ourselves. He knew that he was likely going to die. He had just spent the previous week stirring up the people, promising them God’s “kingdom” and teaching them how to attain spiritual fulfillment by seeking beyond the law and beyond human understanding of the world.

He spoke out against injustice, he welcomed the disenfranchised, and he lived his life authentically. And at that last supper, he reminded them that they were a community. He gave them something to build that community around. He trusted them to remain in community after he was gone.

Did Jesus have to suffer and die to reveal his true self? Was he more authentic after the suffering than he was in his lifetime? Do we have to suffer to discover who we are? Are we more authentic after suffering?

I think that when we are in suffering, we often build walls to protect ourselves. We devise safe personae that we believe are more acceptable to those at whose hands we suffer. As long as we believe that suffering is necessary for transformation, we allow ourselves to be compromised.

The longer we are in suffering, the more inauthentic we become. It needn’t be physical suffering. It needn’t be blatant. As long as we are ostracized for being who we are, as long as we let others tell us who and what we need to be, we are in suffering.

Was I more authentically me before my first marriage? Or was the one who emerged from that time to struggle for years with my identity, my beliefs, and my relationships with others more authentic? Did I have to live in fear of my life every day for eight years in the marriage and with the residual baggage for another thirty-plus years in order to transform into the person I am today?

I don’t think so. I don’t think it was necessary. I do think, however, that in order to be authentic today, I must recognize and admit that I did experience those years. I must utilize the negative experiences and memories in a positive way.

In order to be truly authentic, I must reject the God-constructs and belief systems that reinforce the idea that suffering is not only necessary, but God-given. In order to be truly authentic, I must reveal those experiences.

In my pursuit of authenticity, I must take the chance that I will be rejected by those who would judge my behavior and my understanding of the Divine. As I seek authenticity, I must reject theologies and doctrines that continue to build and support walls that obstruct community, diversity, and the acceptance of the universal, enduring love of All That Is.

I must always seek to build community. No matter who or what Jesus was or is, it is his authentic life and his loving and trusting heart that are my example.

Throughout history, the song of the Divine has been heard by people in all cultures and all lifestyles. The most authentic of all the people who have walked the earth are those who have responded to their own song without regard to established norms and societal expectation.

Those who are authentically responding to that call seek nothing but the highest good. It does not matter what they call this goodness; it does not matter what religious or philosophical environment they operate in; it does not matter what cultural heritage they grow in. What matters is that they reach across boundaries to one another.

In seeking to be true to ourselves, we allow others to live into their own identities as well. In rejecting the belief that suffering is necessary for transformation, we no longer allow others to impose negative values upon us, and we facilitate the expansion of positive responses to one another and to All That Is.

The real transformation occurs, I think, when we allow our true identities to be revealed — flaws and all — so that we might be able to be of service to others.

Jesus lived his life authentically, revealing his disagreements with the socio-religious establishment of his time and reaching across cultural, religious, gender, and identity lines. By doing so, he risked losing his family support system, friends, religious leaders and even his very life. By doing so, he responded to God’s call and revealed himself as a perfect reflection of God’s identity as the very essence of love.

---

In the Christian context, the Saturday before Easter is known as Holy Saturday. It represents the dark before the dawn. It is the time when Jesus is said to have descended into the underworld to liberate the imprisoned souls of the righteous who had been imprisoned there since their deaths.

Taken literally or figuratively, the story of Christ is the story of triumph over spiritual death, over the attitudes of those who would destroy my happiness and my hope — even if that be me. It is the story of how to end the suffering that is inherent in being alive and how to remove the causes of that suffering.

Stories of dying and rising gods have given hope to people throughout history; the Egyptians had Osiris, the Sumerians had Innana, the Greeks had Persephone. Each of these stories reminds us that there is a time of darkness before dawn; the powers of death must be overcome that there might be new life. Every seed must be buried in the ground, living through silent darkness, before new life will spring forth.

The story of Jesus’ life shows us that there are things worth dying for. They are not the things of this world, but the restoration of the image of the Divine in our hearts and our souls. His life is an example of the life we are intended to live; a life of standing for what is right; a life of sharing Love with all Beings, building community, and supporting one another. His life reveals to us that though it is a simple life, it is not an easy life.

In the end, however, it is a life worth living.

Holy Saturday is a reminder that the darkness we face in life must be embraced and lived through before new life can break through into a new day. This is not the same as saying we must suffer or that the darkness is necessary.

The suffering and the darkness are simply natural parts of being alive in this world. Facing it head on, living through it consciously, and releasing ourselves from our fears is the only way we can emerge victorious.

On Easter morning, Christians remember that though Jesus died, the Risen Christ reveals the promise of new life at the end of our suffering, if we only but recognize it. There is more to life than the desires and the fears that inevitably block our paths to freedom and happiness.

When we know that, we find the strength to face those desires and fears and to deal with them. Holy Saturday is the darkness which hides the blocks in our path. Easter morning is the Light which reveals the obstacles so that we may remove them and go along our way.

---

Simplified, Buddhism puts it this way

Life is suffering (stressful, uncomfortable, dissatisfying)
Suffering is a result of desire (craving)
The cure for suffering is to remove the causes of suffering
The way to remove the causes of suffering is to follow the eight-fold path

The eight-fold path trains followers in three areas: Wisdom, Ethical Conduct, and Mental Discipline

The following breakdown comes from intellectuallyfit.com:

Wisdom: Helps us understand reality and see the world as it really is. This training is part of the first 2 precepts (Right View, Right Intention)

Ethical Conduct: Helps us attain mental purification and virtue. This training is part of the next 3 precepts (Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood)

Mental Discipline: Helps in developing true wisdom. This training is part of the last 2 precepts (Right Mindfulness, Right Concentration)

---

I think if we look closely at the stories that we are told about the life of Jesus, we can see where he provided the lessons of Wisdom, Ethical Conduct, and Mental Discipline.

Easter is the culmination of those lessons. It is a story of Enlightenment. To truly “follow Jesus” it is important to understand the story arc as a pathway to spiritual wholeness rather than focusing on dogma, fundamentalist literalism, and legalism.

But that’s just my opinion.

This story is a comprised of three previously written blog posts that appeared on my LiveJournal in 2012. I have revised it and updated it to align more with my current perspective. As a Christopagan, I see the story of Jesus as metaphor; perhaps as a parable like the parables he uses as illustrations for his lessons. Whether he is a historic individual or a mythological figure makes no difference in my understanding of the New Testament Gospel writings. I also see figures in other cultural pantheons in a similar fashion. My understanding of “God” is both metaphysical and scientific. What I call “All That Is” fits into my understanding of quantum entanglement, though I admit that I don’t really understand it at all.

You can read this article on Medium here.

Join Medium with my referral link - Suzy Jacobson Cherry aka The Blue Bardess
Not a Medium Member? Click Here! Sign up here & I'll receive part of your monthly fee You'll also get full access to…medium.com