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Lots of Theological Conversations
As my entry “Contrasts” indicated, I’ve spent considerable time and energy recently struggling with Swedenborg’s doctrine of the redemption – and more than that, with the implications it has for my vocation if what I consider to be a central doctrine is something I might not able to accept.
Swedenborg teaches that the material and spiritual worlds are not separate, but interpenetrating, and that they influence each other. Each of us is motivated not only by our own thoughts, but by spiritual influences coming from heaven and hell. In order for free choice to be a reality – and freedom of choice is an essential part of Swedenborg’s anthropology – the influences of the spiritual world must remain in balance. He writes that Jesus’s act of “redemption” was not dying on the cross as a substitute sacrifice for the sin of humanity, or as a ransom. It was entering the spirit world after his death and re-ordering the heavens and hells so that they were once again in balance. He continues this work for each person, preserving our freedom whether we ask his help or not, but then helping us choose the Good and the True if we ask for help.
I had a good talk with my dad (a former minister and double Ph.D.) on Saturday night, and he agreed with me that having trouble with a central doctrine like this one is a major problem. We discussed the various implications and choices I had before me. (Then we went in to see “The Last Samurai,” which I enjoyed very much.)
Then, on Sunday, I chatted with Doug, a visiting Swedenborgian seminarian, and with my pastor. Both of them were surprised that this doctrine was causing problems for me, and – to my great surprise – neither of them thought this was a particularly central belief. Certainly it wasn’t something worth getting worked up about.
Okay. . . .
Last night, I spoke for an hour with Jim, the dean of the Swedenborgian House of Studies. He was very helpful, giving me some additional perspectives on the doctrine that I hadn’t thought about (there is so darn much of Swedenborg to absorb), and he also affirmed the denomination’s respect for free thought and pluralism.
The sense I’m left with now is that I am within a community of kindred spirits. And the issues I have with some of the theology is not going to be a deal breaker where my vocation is concerned. At least, not from the official perspective. I still need to wrestle with this for a while, but I no longer feel the sense of fear and urgency I did last week, when I was afraid that my vocation was in jeopardy.
Swedenborg teaches that the material and spiritual worlds are not separate, but interpenetrating, and that they influence each other. Each of us is motivated not only by our own thoughts, but by spiritual influences coming from heaven and hell. In order for free choice to be a reality – and freedom of choice is an essential part of Swedenborg’s anthropology – the influences of the spiritual world must remain in balance. He writes that Jesus’s act of “redemption” was not dying on the cross as a substitute sacrifice for the sin of humanity, or as a ransom. It was entering the spirit world after his death and re-ordering the heavens and hells so that they were once again in balance. He continues this work for each person, preserving our freedom whether we ask his help or not, but then helping us choose the Good and the True if we ask for help.
I had a good talk with my dad (a former minister and double Ph.D.) on Saturday night, and he agreed with me that having trouble with a central doctrine like this one is a major problem. We discussed the various implications and choices I had before me. (Then we went in to see “The Last Samurai,” which I enjoyed very much.)
Then, on Sunday, I chatted with Doug, a visiting Swedenborgian seminarian, and with my pastor. Both of them were surprised that this doctrine was causing problems for me, and – to my great surprise – neither of them thought this was a particularly central belief. Certainly it wasn’t something worth getting worked up about.
Okay. . . .
Last night, I spoke for an hour with Jim, the dean of the Swedenborgian House of Studies. He was very helpful, giving me some additional perspectives on the doctrine that I hadn’t thought about (there is so darn much of Swedenborg to absorb), and he also affirmed the denomination’s respect for free thought and pluralism.
The sense I’m left with now is that I am within a community of kindred spirits. And the issues I have with some of the theology is not going to be a deal breaker where my vocation is concerned. At least, not from the official perspective. I still need to wrestle with this for a while, but I no longer feel the sense of fear and urgency I did last week, when I was afraid that my vocation was in jeopardy.
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I find a huge paradox in the virtues of the Warrior as ideal/archetype that are applied to produce the horrors of war. It is as if the warrior code wrests goodness from a persistent evil, or war itself perverts the good embodied in the warrior code.
The final battle in "The Last Samurai" was tragic and unnecessary. Hundreds died for a lost cause: most of them conscripts who were dying because they were ordered to be there, not because they willingly engaged in combat because of their beliefs. Katsumoto and his followers had the right to die for their beliefs, but to kill at that time and place. . . . ? ? ? I have a hard time condoning it, even though I believe I understand why they did.
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This is where I always boggle and pull back from this kind of culture/code. I think honor is a good thing -- until it becomes an excuse for not acknowledging a moral decision that has more than personal implications. "Honor" should not be used as a white-wash for selfishness, stubborness, or hatred. Nor an excuse to do harm to others.
There is a huge difference in being willing to die for something and being willing to kill for it.