Tuesday, November 21, 2017

TALES OF THE MYSTIC JOURNEY - ELIJAH


ELIJAH

Elijah is a mythic figure that is a mystery in his own right.  The designation of being a Tishbite is enigmatic and possibly indicates an unknown origin as the term is used to denote a resident alien in some contexts.  The location of Tishbe is controversial as it is reported to be in the area if Gilead, but other locations are contenders. No one knows an exact location. We know nothing of Elijah's origins or his life story prior to his appearance in the first book of Kings. He enters the Hebrew Scriptures as a full-blown prophet of Yahweh (YHWH). His name means, "My God is Yahweh."  He is also the head of a school of prophets, which we know little to nothing about.   

With Elijah we return to the mythic within the historical context of the reign of Israel's King Ahab and his notorious wife, Jezebel.  As I have mentioned in another post, the mythic has applicability. This is certainly true with the tale of Elijah who rises to the level of a personage.

For example, the personage of Elijah is attached to the personage of the Messiah, as a forerunner to the Messiah. Elijah is read back into the tradition of celebrating the Passover and other Jewish holy days.  This is remarkable in that the tale of Elijah is relatively short; comprising seven chapters from 1Kings 17 through 2 Kings 2.[1]

 While the tale of Elijah is presented in the context of the ninth century BCE kingdoms of Israel and Judah, its mythical aspects represent a mystical pause in that historical narrative that is relevant to any discussion of mysticism found in Abrahamic monotheism.

FAITH AND INTEGRITY

The particularity that Elijah's tale presents in a discussion of the mystic journey revolves around the issue of maintaining faithfulness and integrity of a people chosen by the God of being, YHWH, and whose ancestors swore devotion to the same.

In this tale we pick up where we left off in the tale of Moses and the Exodus.  Centuries have passed since that time.  The Israelites are settled in the Promised Land.

What started out as a confederation of tribes became a united kingdom under Saul, David, and Solomon.  Then it became two separate kingdoms, the Kingdoms of Israel with its capital of Samaria and the kingdom of Judah with its capital in Jerusalem. The only identity they had in common was a shared theism, a shared devotion to an unnamable god of their common ancestry, the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob; YHWH, the Lord, who led them out of the land of Egypt.

In the final chapter of the Book of Joshua, we find as the Israelites finally have established themselves in the Promised Land.  Joshua their leader asks them to make a final decision as to whether they will serve the Lord or serve other God's. They choose to serve the Lord, but Joshua tells them they cannot for God is holy, but they insist and Joshua instructs them to put away their idols.

Joshua's prophecy turns out to be correct.  In the long run, they find it hard to be faithful to a god they cannot speak of or idolize.  It is hard to appeal to a power that cannot be seen, much less use to generate power, that is increasingly seen as residing in a monarchical system that derives its authority from the divine other.

The question that the monarchies of Israel and Judah beg is what happens to faithfulness and integrity when the governing powers on this earth define its appeal, use, and generation; when they ignore their original covenant with YHWH and resort to political pragmatism rather than ensuring that justice is done?   Where does that leave the average Joe and Mary?  What becomes of God?

Political pragmatism of the time dictated alliance being made through marriage.  Marrying the daughter of a powerful king allied one with that king.  This is what King Ahab did to protect his borders and ensure he had the resources to fend off his enemies.  To that end, he marries Jezebel the daughter of the King of Sidon.

Jezebel also happens to be a priestess to Asherah and Baal or the Baals.  She attempts to establish this religion as the only religion in Israel and, with Ahab's consent, goes about killing prophets of YHWH who undoubtedly are outspoken critics of a regime that has abandoned its covenantal relationship with God. Elijah is sent to inform Ahab of a devastating drought's arrival, and the whole region is affected by it which is implicitly sent by God in response to the idolatry that has become rampant in Israel. During the draught Elijah is sent to live with a widow and her son in Zarepath, which ironically is located in Jezebel's home turf of Sidon. 

This detour has a purpose.  The tale of Elijah establishes that God is not limited by geographical boundaries; that God is God and there are no others.  It also demonstrates that God is merciful to those who act from faith, as the widow did by feeding Elijah when she and her son faced certain starvation.  It is important to recognize that she did this even though she did not acknowledge the God of Elijah as her god.

As she tends to Elijah's need for food, God supplies her with what she needs to do so and she and her son are fed also.  When her son becomes ill and dies, she sees it as a result of her own sinfulness (unknown) and believes that his death is her punishment.  Elijah proves otherwise and brings her son back to life.  It isn't until that moment that she acknowledges Elijah as a true prophet of God.  She demonstrates that where faith and integrity is exercised, the imprinted image of God on humans is revealed regardless of who they are or where they live.

When the draught is about to end, Elijah returns to Israel and informs Ahab of its ending and tells Ahab to summon the prophets of Baal to Mount Carmel for what amounts to a prophet's duel.  The result is YHWH demonstrating immense power and the elimination of both the prophets of Asherah and Baal.  In response to that event, Jezebel threatens to kill Elijah who escapes to the wilderness and asks God to take his life.

God doesn't.

Instead, an angel directs Elijah to eat and retrace the steps of the earlier Israelites back into the wilderness of Sinai, to the mountain of God; the mountain Moses received the Ten Commandments, Mount Horeb.


A DEEPER SENSE OF GOD



It is on Mount Horeb that the tale of Elijah grabs my attention. Up to this point, Elijah's tale follows a fairly mythical pattern of miracles and heroic deeds, but suddenly there is a shift in gears.  The mythic hero becomes a mere mortal like the rest of us[2].  One would have thought that after the Mount Carmel experience, Elijah would have been unstoppable.

"Jezebel's threats?  Ha! Who's she trying to fool? She's nothing; a nobody!"

But that is not what we encounter.

What we encounter is a withered prophet - emptied out - a shell of a human.  We see Elijah as Elijah sees himself, and it's an interesting view.

After being instructed to go to Mount Horeb, Elijah wanders forty days and nights in the wilderness, a nod to the Israelites of the Exodus tale wandering there.  Once he arrives he spends the night in a cave. It is there in the dark night of his indwelling soul that the voice of God comes to him and asks, "What are you doing here?"  The writers of First Kings are turning up the volume on the conversation Elijah is having with himself. The voice of God speaks in Elijah's voice as if Elijah is asking the same question.

God often speaks to us in our inner conversations. The place where we can ask the questions we don't want anyone else to ask. So the voice is familiar, even if the question makes us inwardly squirm. We have no choice but to listen. Elijah bears his human soul to God, how his zeal for God seemingly led nowhere other than putting his own life at risk.  God's response is for Elijah to stand on the mountain for the Lord is about to pass by.

In this story, it is important to keep in mind the details, the setting in which this conversation with takes place. Elijah is still in the cave when he hears a great wind.  He is still in the cave when an earthquake rends the mountain. He is still on the cave when a great fire appears.  He is still in the cave when there is the "sheer sound of silence."[3] At hearing/experiencing a profound silence, Elijah, like Moses at the Burning Bush, is intuitively prompted to cover his head.  It is after this "sheer sound of silence" that Elijah exits the cave.

Then the voice of God comes to Elijah again and asks the same question as it did in the cave, "What are you doing here?"  Elijah gives the same response as he did before as if nothing happened, because "nothing" did just happen and it was God. Then the inner voice of God gives Elijah instructions to carry out his ministry and he goes back to finish his ministry.

What was that all about?

Most Christians go no further in this tale than Elijah hearing the still small voice version of this story.  There is so much more going on in this tale, if one moves to the enigmatic next verse.

For a wrinkle in time, Elijah has a totally mind blowing encounter with God that cannot be explained verbally.  It can only be felt which the writers of 1Kings give us a sense of when we are back to the question God originally asked and the same reply Elijah gave at that time. It represents a lapse in time and space – a mystical moment in which Elijah finds himself caught up in an experience that defies explanation.  It's not a transfiguring moment, in the sense that it changes who Elijah is.   Rather it affirms who Elijah is and it affirms God's being in all moments as God's peace, God’s silent but active presence. 

What it says about the mystic journey we’re all on is that God's silence is a sign of God's most intimate presence in our lives.  When our complaints remain unanswered, the answer is to continue whatever it is we're doing in the peace of God.

This tale provides one of the most profound revelations of God, and it will play itself out in story of Jesus's crucifixion in the Christian scriptures. The sense of abandonment and being spent that Elijah experienced after defeating the prophets of Asherah and Baal is the same sense of abandonment the Jesus expresses on the cross and is reflected in the Gospel of Matthew when Jesus says, "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?"[4] (Matthew 27: 46 &47)

In my opinion, the author of Matthew was employing a double entendre when he has the bystanders at Jesus’s crucifixion question whether he is calling for Elijah.  What I believe Matthew does is to connect Elijah's experience on Mount Horeb to Jesus's crucifixion on Golgotha; demonstrating that where and when God is silent, God is near.

I believe this is the primary reason mystic's seek silence. God is often found in the silence.  This should not be construed as God standing still.  God may be silent, but God is never still.  There is always something to God's doing nothing.

We are because God is

When Elijah experiences that exquisite moment of revelatory silence, he recognizes he is still here; that he, Elijah, still is; just as God always is and in this sense we see him being carried up in whirlwind of God's being at the end of his ministry.

Until next time, stay faithful.




[1] Elijah is briefly mentioned in 2Chronicles 21: 11-15 as sending a letter to Jehoram, King of Judah.
[2] If you're reading my posts for the first time, don't freak out about my choosing to call stories in the Bible myths.  I have a deep respect for both the Holy Bible and myths. Myths are not lies and they're not false. On the contrary, the intent of any myth is to convey truths that cannot be conveyed by fact.  Truths, in the sense I use the term, are akin to governing principles that hold their sense of truth but no one can adequately explain exactly why they hold true.  This is where myths become helpful; in that, they allow us to engage with them through story - sometimes fanciful and creative stories that exaggerate reality in order to highlight the truths embedded in them.  They are similar to the parables of Jesus.  There is, in my opinion, a parabolic, a mythic, feel to all Hebrew and Christian stories of people found in their scriptures.
[3] 1 Kings 19:12. I like the translation of this verse as found in the New Revised Standard Version – Anglicised, 1989, 1995, The division of Christian education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States, which is  used here, as it capture the essence of the what Elijah is reported to have experience better than the usual translation of what he hear as a “still small voice”, which is probably true to the actual Hebrew expression, but which doesn’t capture the actual meaning of the experience.
[4] Matthew 27:46 & 47

Thursday, November 16, 2017

TALES OF THE MYSTIC JOURNEY - MOSES AND THE EXODUS


TALES OF THE MYSTIC JOURNEY – MOSES AND THE EXODUS
As a whole, mysticism is about finding definition through perspective. I will discuss this further in a concluding series of posts on the mysticism of art (both aural and visual).   Mysticism offers a perspective on what it means to be, from the intimate inward to the distant outward and from the distant outward to the intimate inward; in seeing the divine cosmic at work in the chaotic quantum environment of mundane human existence.  It is very imaginative – very creative – and filled with both meanings and unanswered questions.  It’s a mindful and soulful journey of which I am only touching upon the very surface of a small but significant part of its domain in these posts.   
THE TORAH
I’ve been literally skimming through stories found in the Torah as a way of introducing basic thematic schemes found in most mystic experiences and tales.   The Torah is both central and foundational to mysticism as experienced and understood in Western civilization.  For Judaism it is central.  For Christianity it is foundational.  Neither of these two religions would exist in their present forms without it.  Attributed to Moses, the Torah was written by a variety of Judaic schools of thought.  It honors the Moses as Judaism’s greatest prophet, as all roads leading to the Moses and the Exodus event and all roads proceeding from that event. 
The Torah is an attempt to codify the human experience in relation to a divine intuition.  It does this through the establishment of laws written in response to observations by humans about the human experience and given a divine imprimatur.  When viewed from a distance one can see that they are a way to identify, differentiate, and measure the quantic, human behavior.  It is the universal nature (found in almost every ancient and primitive civilization) of these laws; particularly regarding the preservation of life and property that enables one to intuit a divine imprimatur. They (the laws) actually say very little (on the surface) about the divine cosmic, but the Torah, as a whole, reveals a great deal about the divine cosmic (God) in relation to human experience.  In fact, it is in this tale of Moses and the Exodus that the nature of God is revealed reflecting a universal understanding of the divine that emerged during the axial period in which the Torah was written.
THE ENSLAVEMENT OF ISRAEL
In the tale of Moses, Moses picks up the thread of God’s love that was discussed in the last post.  In fact, Moses acts as a threaded needle to sew together the fabric of the Chosen People, or a spindle upon which their tale is spun.   His tale picks up where Joseph’s tale ended.  Like Joseph, Moses begins as a slave, is adopted by an Egyptian princess, becomes a prince of Egypt, and then flees Egypt after murdering an Egyptian for beating a Hebrew slave.  It is in the wilderness of Midian that Moses becomes the mouth-piece of God, like Joseph became the mouth-piece of Pharaoh.  As Joseph brought Israel to Egypt, Moses will lead Israel out of Egypt.  There is a theological symmetry to the enslavement of Israel – the four hundred years Israel was in Egypt.  Unlike those before him, Moses is depicted as having face to face conversations with God.  In fact, Moses’s conversation with God at the burning bush is one of the longest direct conversation between a human and God recorded in the entire Holy Bible.  In other parts of the Torah, God speaks at length to Moses regarding laws and the construction of the Tabernacle, but the burning bush incident is a conversation unlike any other in the scriptures because in it, God reveals God’s nature. 
FIRE
The tale of Moses and the Exodus is a story of meaning.  Implicit in all of these tales is the question, “Why?”  Why Abraham?  Why Joseph?  Why the enslavement of Israel?  Why Moses?  Why forty years in the Wilderness?  Why? 
The why of any event is at its root always a mystery:  Why this?  Why that?  Why now?  Why-questions are never answered by why-answers or answers that begin with “because.”  Because-answers actually answer “what,” “who,” “when,” and “where” questions since they answer the conditions and situations in which events occur, but they never get to the root of why something happens.  If one can ask a why-question that prompts a because-answer, the questioning and answering can result an endless cycle of such questions and answers.  It is like a parent trying to answer a small child’s question about why something happened with a because-answer. To every because-answer the child intuitively and invariably asks, “But why?”   

As comedic and frustrating such questions can be, they make children of us all.  We adults find ourselves in the same place as the child as there is never a final definitive answer that begins with “because.”  We usually end a cycle of why-questions by admitting “I don’t know” or by curtly stating “because I said so,” or “that’s just the way it is." The latter response revealing an unintentional insight into mystery as it brings one to the liminal expanse of being.
Moses can’t help but examine a bush that is blazing on fire but not consumed by it in the dryness of a desert.  All his questions about what and how are immediately transfigured into who and why questions.   As he approaches the phenomenon, Moses finds himself in the presence of God, told to remove his sandals and intuitively covers his head.  Initially God introduces godself as I am the God of your fathers Abraham, etc. and goes on to tell Moses that he has been chosen to lead Israel from bondage and inform Pharaoh to let God’s people go. 

Moses objects and explains that he is not up to the job; that he cannot speak well.  Like the story of Jacob and his fight with man in the darkness, Moses is faced with his own sense of failure – and struggles with his own doubt.  This is not about trying to get out of job, but rather engaging with one’s sense of integrity – “all hearts are open” to God from whom no secrets are hid”[1]  
God’s gentleness is evident with Moses who grants Aaron to be his mouthpiece.  Like Abraham being concerned that he is too old to see God’s promise of son of his own body, Moses is concerned that walking into the Israeli communities back in Egypt to announce that God has told him to tell them that they will be set free to engage in a journey to the Promised Land won’t fly.  Egypt is land full of identifiable gods and goddesses.  It is clear from reading scripture that not only the Egyptians worshipped these gods, but so did their slaves, including the people of Israel.  Moses intuits that walking back to the Israelites, much less, the court of Pharaoh,  to say God (a god) of our fathers has told me to tell you…  won’t go over very well either, so Moses asks, “Who shall I say is sending me?’’
The answer is staring Moses in the face, but God answers, "I am that I am," which is sometimes translated as "I am what I am" or, since Hebrew does not have a future tense to express future tense, it is sometimes translated as "I will be, what I will be."  Regardless of how it is translated, the meaning is clear. God is pure creative energy, a fire that does not destroy but rather creates, recreates, and transfigures what is created.  God is a paradox, a nominal verb, who "neither slumbers nor sleeps."[2]
This one declaration in scripture is, in itself, a transfiguring moment.  God is truly holy – truly other – there are no human words that can contain the sense that God is as represented as a flame that creates, refines, consumes[3], but does not destroy. Moses has an answer that cannot be spoken, but rather that must be acted out, and so to demonstrate the presence and will of God we have the Ten Plagues. 
What is intriguing in the account of the ten plagues is the “hardening” of Pharaoh’s heart.  Exodus give two versions of Pharaoh’s hardened heart.  At first it states that Pharaoh hardens his hearts and then, as the plagues increase with intensity, it says God hardened Pharaoh’s heart.  I think what can be taken from this, mystically speaking, is that God goes to some extent where we go; that God works with, uses, the material at hand; in this case, Pharaoh’s stubbornness.  The result is that in each refusal to let Israel go, God’s power; God’s presence is increasingly revealed to the point that Pharaoh’s priests convince him that their might cannot compete, and he should acquiesce to Moses’s demands.  Even the death of Pharaoh’s firstborn and that of the Egyptians does not quell his thirst for revenge against a god who had power over life and death, as he pursues the Israelites to the Red Sea only to see his army drowned as a result. 
The path of one’s mystic journey is always forward. The past is the past and it is closed to us.  We can recall it.  We may long for it, but we can never return to it and this becomes the lesson the Children of Israel are taught in the wilderness.
 PAUSE
Up until now, the Hebrew scriptures tales of the mystic journey have focused on individual, but in the Exodus, the journey broadens out to include the whole people of Israel and from this point forward the journey must be seen and understood in the context of the Chosen People, who are chosen to represent the whole of humanity, the nations of the world – a light to them and a light on them. 
 Exodus tells us that there were shorter routes for the Israelites to take to the Promised Land, but that they would have had to face fierce foes in the Philistines.  After all they have no skill for battle, they have been slaves. They did not have the faith to deal with the grace that was thrust on them, so God directs them to the longer path, the longer journey – a journey into faith based on grace of God. 
Pause, as presented in scripture is a time to instill faith and integrity.  Integrity is impossible without an active faith.  We have seen pause used this way in the tales of Jacob and Joseph and we see it being done in the tale of Israel’s time spent in the wilderness. 
The essential point of this tale is to say that it is easier to transfigure and individual than a whole emerging nation.  We see the struggle the Israelites have with placing their faith – their trust in God and turning that faith into an active process.  They long for the certainty of the past.  They knew their lot in life as slave, but faith thrusts one into the unknown – to walk with God not by sight, but by faith, as Paul would say some fifteen hundred years later.
In fact, at the start of their journey, God is said to have led them as fire – a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  Later this imagery fades and the Israelites must rely on the unseen.  Even though they are sustained by water and manna in the wilderness, the results of God’s direct intervention, they complain of the condition which I suspect had more to do with having to depend on unseen that led them to question their status – who were they?  Who is God?  Can God be trusted or is God capricious?  Better to know that one is a slave to than to be a toy in the hand of a capricious god.  They long for Egypt from time to time. 
TRANSFIGURATION
It has been suggested that the forty year of wandering in the wilderness was needed for a whole new generation to arise who did know slavery in Egypt, who could not long for the certainty[4] it represented, but who grew up living with the need to trust God and live life as an act of free and willful faith rather than from the perspective of certain fear. 
There are many details given in the tale of Israel’s exodus wandering in the wilderness that are worthy of their own mystical exploration (the Passover, the receiving of the law, the creation of Ark of the Covenant and the Tabernacle).  Apart from Joshua and Caleb, none of those who originally left Egypt make it to the promise land, including Moses.  A new generation arises that is transfigured in the wilderness from being slaves to fear to being faithful servants of God – a holy nation, a people set apart.
In a broader context, the Exodus tale is about the transfiguration of not only the nation of Israel, but of theism – from a world that was largely polytheistic and exclusive in its various theistic (each  kingdom, tribe, and family having its own gods) to its narrowing as monotheism and inclusiveness – one God above all gods, one people to be a light for all people. 

The story of the exodus is a story of global transfiguration on so many levels that one could spend multiple posts on its implications, but the purpose of this series of posts to illustrate how it fits in telling the broader tale of the mystic journey. 
The concept of a Chosen People is to provide a lens into seeing ourselves as such people, to connect rather than disconnect and differentiate, which unfortunately has been more often the case than not when it comes to anti-Judaic and anti-Semitic activities and sentiments. 

We are all chosen people in the broader sense of creation, as Genesis points out and we all have histories of enslavement and release and wandering in the wilderness – moments of Pause and Transfiguration. 
We are all on the same journey of faith, even if we don’t share the same beliefs or share the same perspectives because faith is inherent in human existence.  We’re all on a blind journey of faith, guided by hope, and embraced by an active love many call God.
Until next time, stay faithful.



[1] From opening collect in the Eucharistic service from the “Book of Common Prayer.”
[2] Psalm 121:4
[3] What God consumes is not destroyed, but becomes part of God.  As Paul writes, God is that being in which we live and move and have our being.  All things are in God.  In essence all things can be said to be consumed (taken in by God, part of God) and refined, renewed and transfigured.  The burning bush is aglow with fire of God that consumes it.  It is in God, but not destroyed.
[4] We humans are prone to become addicted to certainty. When it is in the form of a concretized ideological belief, certainty becomes antithetical to faith.