Scripture Reading: The Road to Emmaus, Luke 24:13-35

Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see him.” Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then, beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem, and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what had happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Watch Islington United Church’s Worship Livestream Below

Sermon begins at 25:55.

Sermon Text: “Seeking the Hidden Christ”

Sometimes the answers we’re looking for are right under our nose, and we don’t even know it.

Maybe you’ve heard this saying before. The idea being that sometimes the truth, or the thing we’re looking for, is so obvious… too obvious, in fact… that we completely miss it, even if it’s staring us square in the face.

I’m guessing we’ve all had moments like this. You know the ones I mean…

You’re frantically searching for your keys before you leave the house. You’ve checked the kitchen counter three times. You’ve patted down the hallway table. You’ve triple-checked your purse. Now you’re panicking because you’re going to be late for church, and you still can’t find the car keys. And then, a thought occurs. Aha, let me check my coat pocket. And there they are. You think, How did I not think of that before?

Or you’re searching everywhere for your glasses. You’ve checked the nightstand, the bathroom counter, you’re retracing your steps through the whole house. And then you go to scratch your head, and there they are, your glasses perched right on top of your head.

In these moments, it’s not just that we’ve forgotten something… It’s that we’re looking, but not really seeing what’s there.

And I wonder if the disciples in our Gospel story might relate.

Let’s picture ourselves in their shoes for a moment. It’s Sunday, three days after Jesus was crucified. Two disciples are leaving Jerusalem on their way to a town called Emmaus. They have no clue Jesus is alive, however they’d heard about some strange things happening at the tomb earlier in the day. And so here they are walking on the road and a stranger comes to walk beside them. This stranger is actually Jesus, the risen Christ, and yet they don’t even notice! Not until the breaking and the blessing of the bread.

When I first read this story, I couldn’t help but wonder, how did they miss that? Wasn’t it obvious… when he started to illuminate the deeper meanings of the scriptures, and their hearts were burning?

But the author of Luke gives us this small detail, he says: “their eyes were opened, and they recognized him”. And later, when these two travellers recount the story to the other disciples, they say that “the risen Christ had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.”

Jesus purposefully veiled himself until the time was right for these disciples to “see him.”

And so, although the disciples may have thought afterwards, How did we not see him before? The truth is: they couldn’t have possibly, because Christ purposefully hid himself in plain sight. The disciples were not yet ready.

But all the while, even as they walked unaware, lamenting the death of the man whom they had thought was their Messiah… wondering what was next… their hearts burned within them. The Spirit was softening them. As this stranger spoke words of Truth, they became more and more receptive. And finally, when they were ready, Jesus revealed himself.

And that kind of timing… well, most of us probably know something of that experience.

There are moments in our own lives when we are unclear about our next steps… where we may be searching for clarity… seeking answers. Asking: What’s next? Why aren’t things working out the way I thought they would? Where is God in all of this?

And sometimes we can be in that space… seeking, waiting, longing, hoping… until finally… some kind of clarity arrives. And when it arrives, we can sometimes feel a little silly… like how did I miss that? How did I not see that or think of that before?

I can think of many instances in my own life where this was certainly the case. But perhaps the biggest – was trying to figure out what the purpose of my life was, and what career I was supposed to be pursuing.

I spent many years grappling with this question of life purpose, trying to discern what God wanted for me and from me…

For most of my 20s, I changed careers every 2-3 years. Business and marketing. Event facilitation. Freelance writing. Singer-songwriter. Business coaching and life coaching. At each step, it felt like I was building toward something God had intended for me. I had a sense of being guided towards something… but nothing was quite right. The destination remained completely veiled.

Maybe you have experienced something similar, where you’ve struggled with your sense of purpose – whether that be early, mid or late career. Whether you are a parent whose kids have now grown up and left home. Whether you have now retired, and are trying to figure out what to fill your days with…

Along my own path of wondering and grappling… I reached my crisis point in the summer of 2022. I kept praying and asking God to just tell me: What am I supposed to be doing with my life? And I sat in this liminal space, what I called the “void” for many months… until, finally… I received a revelation.

The hidden Christ finally revealed himself to me… I won’t go into the details of how, but I’ll say it was a sequence of events that included a vision, a conversation with a friend, and a conversation with my mother that made it all very clear to me. And this revelation was not what I expected or even hoped for. But it was crystal clear. This revelation very clearly pointed me towards returning both to the church and to school to pursue ministry, as well as obtaining my qualifications as a psychotherapist… and I have been working towards those things for the past three years now.

Sometimes, when we do finally receive the revelation, or the clarity that we seek, it’s not what we expect. Just like the disciples on the road to Emmaus… they had hoped that Jesus of Nazareth would be the one to redeem Israel in the world’s eyes.

None of them thought that their Messiah would be crucified and put to death. They didn’t get the Messiah they thought they would get, or even wanted. But they got the Messiah they needed: a Messiah who offered spiritual redemption, not in the world’s eyes, but in God’s eyes.

And isn’t that what Jesus had been saying all along? That his kingdom did not belong to the world, but rather was of the Spirit?

And in that way, I can see myself in these two disciples walking that road to Emmaus. Because these disciples had expectations about what their lives, the world around them, AND their Messiah were supposed to look like. They had an idea of what “redemption” was supposed to mean.

And when things didn’t unfold the way they had hoped, when it seemed as though nothing had changed… they couldn’t yet see what God was actually doing.

God is always at work in our lives, but sometimes it takes looking back in hindsight to notice.

Looking back now, I can see little signs from my early life, that my vocational calling, was in fact, the path God had always intended for me.

I think back to one particular memory, when I was 7 or 8 years old. For context, my dad is a Presbyterian minister, and growing up, he ministered to a congregation in North York. So I grew up in that church. Every Sunday morning after the service, everyone would make their way out of the sanctuary to the hall for coffee and tea and biscuits. The kids would come up from Sunday School, and while the other kids would head to the hall to find their parents, I would make my way to the sanctuary and wait until everyone had left.

Now, there was this period, for about 10-15 minutes after the service, when the microphones would still be on. And so I would head up to the pulpit. I’d tap tap tap on the microphone. I’d clear my throat. I’d flip open the Bible – sometimes it was already open to the passage that was shared during worship that day. And I would start to read. I’d look at the empty pews and imagine that I was addressing a congregation. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

I’d say that little 7-year-old me was following the lead of the Spirit in those moments. She had a hunch about what God was guiding her towards. But as I got older, I became more and more resistant to the idea that my professional life would involve the church in any way, shape or form.

But all that time, the hidden Christ walked next to me, feeding my heart and illuminating my mind with spiritual truth, until one day I was finally ready for my eyes to be opened to what the Spirit had in store for me.

Looking back now, I can say with certainty, had Christ revealed this calling to me any earlier, I would not have listened. And so the Spirit, veiled as it was, prepared me. It helped me develop my skills and my gifts until I was ready.

And this, I think, is often how the Spirit operates for each of us.

We are all Christ’s disciples, walking the road to Emmaus. Sometimes we take little scenic detours along the way, but we walk the path nonetheless.

Sometimes God walks beside us, silently instructing and guiding us. Sometimes God reveals Godself to us in extraordinary moments of sudden clarity. And sometimes God is hidden in plain sight, but it doesn’t mean that God is not there.

Sometimes it means that the time is not yet right, for the Spirit to reveal to us our next steps.

Now, just because the Spirit might choose when the timing is right does not mean that we only play a passive role, or that it’s totally out of our hands.

Perhaps, “faith” also means training our spiritual sight, so that we might begin to see what’s hidden right in front of us. We can do this by opening ourselves to the possibility that God is always right in front of us, in the people that we meet, in the absolute ordinariness of our lives, and in the absolute chaos of the world… and in all the accompanying confusion, loss, grief, and challenges that we encounter.

Can we learn to see the Divine in all things. In the extraordinary, in our challenges, and in the absolute most mundane aspects of our existence?

Whether it’s in that morning cup of coffee, when that first sip of caffeine hits your lips, and you feel human again.

Or in that frantic search for the keys or the glasses, and the relief when we find them.

In that conversation you had with a stranger, maybe now a friend, that creates a feeling of warmth in your heart.

And in those bigger moments too, when clarity finally arrives after you’ve been contemplating your next steps.

So my prayer for all of us today, is that we can all become just a little better at discerning what is right in front of us.

The risen Christ is already here. Walking the road alongside you. The answers, the Clarity that you seek, are already within you… even if they haven’t been revealed to you yet.

And while we wait for that clarity, we can also do the work… of slowing down… of making space for Christ to enter our hearts. We can ask the questions, and we can listen for answers. We can soften our resistance, and let go of our expectations of what we think spiritual redemption is supposed to look like… both in our personal lives, but also in the world around us.

Because it can be very easy when we look at what is going on in the world right now, to get swallowed up in despair… to believe that Christ is nowhere, he is absent… but can we actually see what the Spirit is doing right now? Probably not. But maybe one day, it will become clearer.

So let us all pay attention just a little more… not in an anxious way, but with the openness of someone who knows that even, when hidden, Christ walks with us.

Because the answer you’re searching for, the presence you’re longing for, the truth you need to hear… might be right under your nose. You just don’t know it yet.

Amen.

Scripture Reading: Matthew 3:13-17

Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw God’s Spirit descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from the heavens said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

Audio Recording:

Transcript:

“Being the beloved is the origin and the fulfilment of the life of the Spirit.”

So says the renowned theologian Henri Nouwen in his book Life of the Beloved, where he reflects on Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan, and the moment that the voice of God says, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

For Nouwen, this statement… being the beloved… extends to all of us. The moment that we acknowledge that we, too, are beloved children of God, we allow God to claim us.

I remember during my first year of seminary, I enrolled in a class called Multi-Religious Theological Education and Leadership. I had recently returned to the church after a somewhat mystical call to ministry, and I was still figuring out my relationship to the Faith.

Although I was raised Christian, I had also spent many formative years exploring other spiritual traditions and contemporary forms of spirituality. So when I entered seminary, I carried a vision: to help make spirituality accessible, and to build bridges between Christianity and other ways of understanding God.

That’s why I decided to enroll in two degrees at Emmanuel College — the Master of Divinity and the Master of Psycho-Spiritual Studies — training both as a minister and a psychotherapist.

So for this class, Multi-Religious Theological Education and Leadership, we were asked to interview someone who embodied the kind of work we one day hoped to do. So I interviewed a man I’ll call Mr. M.

Mr. M was a Christian with an interfaith life. His sister is a Tibetan Buddhist teacher — the very same teacher I had travelled with to India years earlier. He was raised Eastern Catholic, I Protestant. He had worked in congregational or parish ministry and was also a psychotherapist. He was someone who bridged worlds, which is what I was hoping to do.

So when I sat down to interview him, the first thing he said to me shocked me.

He said, “Much of our theology is toxic and immature.”

Oh? Well. That got my attention.

I asked him what he meant.

He said, “We often begin theology with sin and redemption. But a good theology begins with original blessing and original divinity.”

This idea stayed with me for some time.

Now it wasn’t entirely foreign to me, and perhaps it’s not that foreign to you.

To be made in the image of God suggests that there is something inherently good, something blessed, about being human.

In Buddhism, it’s said that to be born human is a great privilege — because only human beings can awaken spiritually. To be human, and to encounter spiritual teaching at all, is considered a sign of even greater blessing.

So it made sense to me that human life could be deeply blessed and that a part of us, the human soul perhaps, might even be divine… even amidst all of the suffering that we as human beings experience, and even amongst the real pain and injustice of our world.

But how did that idea – the idea that we are blessed, divine, and beloved - fit with the wider church’s emphasis on original sin? Now the United Church of Canada does not emphasize the doctrine of original sin, and yet we must admit that this idea has its roots in Western Christianity and most of us grew up with this idea of sin looming over our heads… even if we didn’t agree with it.

And I will be honest in saying it was this idea that turned me away from the Faith for many years.

So as I continued studying theology, this became clearer in my mind and heart.

One thing that I discovered was that the doctrine of original sin was coined by the historic church father, St. Augustine of Hippo, a 4th-5th century theologian.

Interestingly, the doctrine itself is not explicitly found in Scripture, and many branches of Eastern Christianity do not believe in original sin, or hold the same ideas as the Western Church.

Yet in the West, Augustine’s theology became foundational, for better or for worse.

I have met many people who grew up with a version of original sin that contributed to deep feelings of guilt and shame… where the idea of being beloved, blessed, or divine felt completely inaccessible.

Maybe some of you know that experience.

I remember my evangelical grandmother saying to me as a teenager, “Jesus died for your sins.”
And honestly, my teenage brain didn’t get it.

What sins? I thought. How did someone who lived two thousand years ago die for my sins now?

More recently, I’ve come to read some of St. Augustine’s work more carefully — including his Handbook on Faith, Hope, and Love — which is a pretty short treatise on Augustine’s theology, translated from Latin.

And I was very surprised to read that St. Augustine actually insists that human beings are originally good. And that the very fact that we exist is because of the goodness of the Creator. And even though there is this idea that we have ‘fallen’, our goodness was never erased.

This is why redemption is possible at all - because goodness remains. Because within us is the capacity for Christ, the divine life that Jesus fully embodied.

This vision is echoed beautifully by the 14th-century mystic Julian of Norwich.

In her visionary work Revelations of Divine Love, Julian describes humanity’s fall not as guilt deserving punishment, but as suffering deserving compassion.

She had a vision of a Lord and a servant — the servant is Adam, representing all of humanity. The Lord of course is God. And in this vision she describes the Lord and the servant as having a deep mutual love and affection for one another. The servant wants to please the Lord, and the Lord unconditionally loves the servant. And so in her vision, she sees the servant running off to eagerly serve the Lord, and while running trips and falls into a ditch, and is badly hurt. The servant now in the ditch, can no longer see the Lord, and falls into deep despair.

The Lord, seeing that the servant has been hurt, feels deep compassion and care for the servant who is now in pain. And so, God, through the person of Jesus, the Christ, descends into the ditch to retrieve the servant… And in this way, through Jesus, God descends into the ditch with Adam, uniting himself fully with humanity to prevent “endless death.”

The idea of ‘Sin’, in this vision, is not something to be punished, or even something that we have done wrong… it is pain that has afflicted God’s beloved, that God longs to heal.

And so, this brings us back to the waters of baptism.

At the Jordan, Jesus does not repent of sin.
He does not earn approval.
He simply receives a name.

Beloved.

And that same belovedness rests on us.

The idea of original sin was never meant to chain us. It was never meant to erase our worth or create guilt and shame for simply being human. It was meant to liberate us… to explain why a beloved humanity can still cause harm — it explains why human beings have been at war for over 98% of our lived history… why systemic injustices exist, why entire peoples have been oppressed and abused…

And it explains why we live as dual beings – there is an inner tension between the Spirit and the ego, between love and fear. We have the seed of the divine within us, that through God’s grace can come to flourish, and yet we are susceptible to egoic emotions - such as greed, fear, jealousy, exaggerated pride, and pettiness.

And yet, God still says: You are mine.

So today let us imagine that we are entering the waters of the Jordan.

We are coming to be cleansed and refreshed by love.
To be reconciled within ourselves.
To remember who we are.

And over us, as over Jesus, God speaks:

“You are my beloved. With you, I am well pleased.”

As Henri Nouwen reminds us:
“Being the beloved is the origin and the fulfilment of the life of the Spirit.”

Being beloved is where we begin, and it is where we will end.
Being beloved is both our origin and our destiny.

Amen.

Share

Gospel Reading: Luke 23:33-43

³³ When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. ³⁴ Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots to divide his clothing. ³⁵ And the people stood by watching, but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine ³⁷ and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” ³⁸ There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”

³⁹ One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” ⁴⁰ But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? ⁴¹ And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” ⁴² Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” ⁴³ He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Sermon Audio

Sermon Transcript:

It’s hard to admit when we’re wrong.

How many times have you found yourself in an argument with someone… or in conflict over a certain point of view…

So sure that you are in the right, and the other person is wrong.

You may have even thought: How can the other person not see how right we really are? Why don’t they understand? Don’t they know? Isn’t it obvious that we are right, and they are wrong about this?

Or maybe you’ve experienced being in an argument where you are SO sure of your position… you are SO sure that you’ve got it right.

Until the other person starts to make some good points… and there is a part of you that thinks maybe, just maybe… the other person might have a point.

But instead of saying “Maybe you’re right, you’ve made a good point there…” you dig your heels in deeper. It’s too late now. You’ve committed to your position. You can’t go back on your word and admit that you’re wrong.

And you certainly cannot apologize, that would make you look weak as far as the world is concerned… or would it?

Why is it that the hardest words for most people to say seem to be “I’m sorry, I was wrong”? So difficult to say. So instead of saying that, we often get defensive, or try to rationalize why we might still be in the right.

I wonder if this is how the first criminal suffering a terrifying death next to Jesus felt. In our passage from the Gospel of Luke, we heard of two criminals dying the same agonizing death next to Jesus.

The first criminal hurled insults at Jesus, and demanded some kind of worldly miracle: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!”

I wonder if this criminal felt that he was in the right. He didn’t deserve to die like this. Whatever crime he had committed, this was not justified.

And you know, if this is truly what he thought… Who could blame him? One could definitely argue that nobody deserved to die in THAT way.

And truthfully, we don’t really know anything about the crimes that either of these criminals next to Jesus committed… maybe he had stolen bread to feed his children… maybe he killed someone over some kind of conflict… Or maybe the criminal challenged the Roman authority and spoke ill of the emperor.

Whatever the case, the criminal who hurled insults at Jesus clearly didn’t feel remorseful for what had gotten him to this point. He was clinging on to his position of rightness until the last moment.

Not the other criminal though… the one who from here on out I will refer to as the “penitent” man. No, this penitent man in his last moments of agony, seemed to take responsibility for his being there and even accepted his reality.

This penitent criminal, rebuked the other criminal. He said “We are punished justly… for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man, Jesus, has done nothing wrong.”

This penitent man admitted to being wrong. Not only did he admit to being wrong, but in these last moments, in which he had fully accepted his fate, he also recognized Jesus for who Jesus truly was, seeing Jesus’ death not as a sign of weakness or wrongness, but as the only possibility for true salvation.

He said “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom”.

Somehow, this penitent man knew that Jesus was the Messiah - The Christ. Chosen to reconcile the people with God, and offer a true path to salvation. This man seemed to, at least in part, understand that he was suffering next to the presence of God. And in that presence, this man was willing to admit not only that he was in the wrong, but to humbly make known his need for divine intervention.

And that openness, that willingness, that humility was instantly recognized by Jesus.

One moment was all it took for Jesus to welcome this man into paradise.

So what can we learn from this story? To be fair, it is not the most comforting or relatable image. Two criminals and Jesus dying a cruel death on a cross.

And God willing you and I will hopefully never be involved with a situation quite like that…

But, like the two criminals, we can all admit to making mistakes in our lives. Maybe not quite to that degree, but mistakes none the less.

The question is: what did we do in the face of those mistakes?

Did we have the courage and the humility to own up to those mistakes? Did we take responsibility for how we may have hurt another? Or did we put our walls up, get defensive, and even blame others for our predicament?

Perhaps we have thought of our mistakes as a sign of weakness… something that should be covered up, proof that we are not worthy of God’s love or saving grace.

But Jesus’ welcome of the repentant criminal in those last moments of his bodily life, shows us that it is our acceptance of our imperfections, our willingness to admit that we are human which means we’re going to get it wrong sometimes, that actually liberates us - mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

Owning up to our mistakes takes real courage and vulnerability. It requires us to surrender, to loosen our grip on the story we’ve told ourselves, that to be wrong is to be weak, that it would lead to us no longer being respected by our peers or our community.

In fact, I have found that usually the opposite occurs. When we can take responsibility for our mistakes, for our missteps, when we can offer apologies where they are warranted with sincerity, it often leads to respect. But even so, respect from the outside world is secondary to the kind of inner freedom… the inner peace that emerges when we can finally drop our shields, and just be honest with ourselves.

Having said all this, there is another part we need to address also, something that can be quite dangerous, if we don’t recognize it.

The danger is in believing that you are in the wrong or are responsible for situations that are actually not your fault or responsibility.

There are circumstances in which you may choose to take a stand, to set a boundary, or to clearly delineate between what is right and what is wrong.

And so I want to be clear here, this message doesn’t always apply, especially to people who are being oppressed or marginalized, abused or harmed by another.

Nor is this a message that supports moral relativism - as if right or wrong is all a matter of point of view.

And it’s also important to acknowledge that while we might be perpetrators of harm at times, we also likely have been on the receiving end of that harm too. And we have felt the impact of people who couldn’t say they were sorry, of people who couldn’t take responsibility for harm caused. And so in these instances when we are on the receiving end, it is important for us to stand up for ourselves, and to stand up for others who are being harmed.

Sometimes, if we have been hurt in our lives it is even hard to know what is right, or what is wrong. What is my responsibility and what is not my responsibility?

We can only take responsibility for what is ours, but anything that is not we have the right to give back to the other party involved.

And yet most of us can admit to moments where we have clung so tightly to wanting to be right, that it has undermined our ability to be loving. And this tendency towards self-righteousness over love in our society has led to a very polarized political and societal environment. Narratives of “Us vs. Them.” Each side demonizing the other… with very little room for listening, understanding, nuance and bridge-building.

Which makes the message of the gospel all that much more relevant and potent.

When we allow ourselves to become reconciled with “the other”, we become reconciled with Christ, because Christ exists in the other. Whether that “other” is another group of people, or people with differing political views or economic status… Christ exists for and in them. Just as Christ exists for and in us.

And this reconciliation with “the other” requires a certain kind of vulnerability… a vulnerability which requires courage. And while the world might think vulnerability to be a weakness, God knows it to be strength.

The penitent man on the cross next to Jesus, shows us this kind of strength through vulnerability. He has absolutely nothing left to protect: no reputation, no future, no way to spin the narrative. And in this moment of complete exposure, instead of trying to hold on to whatever dignity he has left, he surrenders it…

In that moment he chooses to tell the truth about who he has been. And in this moment of pure surrender, he is able to recognize who Jesus is and to open himself up to the love of God which will save him..

And Jesus responds immediately.
No hesitation.
No testing.
No judgement.
No list of mistakes to atone for.
Just: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”

What would it be like for us to have that kind of assurance every time we made a mistake and owned up to it?

What would it look like for us to instead of choosing pride or self righteousness, choose humility and courage through vulnerability?

The penitent man in our gospel is courageous because he lets that armour fall away. He does the thing that so many of us fear: he admits the truth about himself. Not in a self-pitiful way, not in a way that denies his own being made in the image of God – but in an accepting way.

He says the spiritual equivalent of what we so often avoid saying in real life:
“I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

That sentence can feel like death to our ego. But it is life to our soul.

This is true power, not through pride or perfection, but through surrender.

Through a love that says: “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

When we can admit to sometimes being wrong… we can admit that we don’t need to be perfect in order to be loved by God, or by others.

That is the good news. Being loved does not require a clean moral record.

Jesus, while suffering and dying, turned to another dying man and said, “Today you will be with me in paradise”
And I wonder…
What if that promise is for us, too?
What if paradise begins the moment we surrender our ego and step into the courage of vulnerability?
What if finding the courage to be honest with ourselves and others, the courage to be wrong and own it, is a step into paradise?

May we all find that kind of courage. Amen.

Instead of meeting important issues with openness and compassion, exchanges online often collapse into quick opinions, lacking the nuance and discernment these topics deserve.

Recently I joined Spiritual Healer & Mentor to explore one such polarizing topic — the New Age to Born Again Christianity pipeline.

This conversation was streamed Live to Facebook on Caroline’s profile, part of a larger series titled Leadership Conversations - a series aimed at openly exploring themes that matter in our cultural moment — especially within the realm of self-development and spirituality.

In this conversation, we did our best not to impose certain beliefs or views, but rather invite people into the conversation with the goal of an expanded perspective, rediscovering our shared humanity through multiple perspectives.

Our conversation explores:

• What does it mean to stand firmly in one’s beliefs without demonizing another?

• How does language shape our testimony for better and for worse?

• How can we address real dangers without fueling further division?

Tune into the conversation below:

As always, we’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject! Feel free to leave a comment below.

Lastly, if you’ve been longing for a space of honesty, depth, and compassion around sensitive topics — I invite you to explore Caroline’s Leadership Conversations series. Connect with her on Substack or Facebook.

Gospel Reading: Luke 10:38-42, NRSVUE

Now, as they went on their way, he entered a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at Jesus’ feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks, so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her, then, to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things, but few things are needed - indeed only one. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

This is the word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

Subscribe now

Self-care… perhaps you have heard this word before.

In the last decade or so, the concept of ‘self-care’ has become increasingly popular and trendy. On Tik Tok the hashtag ‘self-care’ has somewhere around 28.2 billion hits, so clearly the concept is very popular among young people.

But even boomers and Gen Xers are embracing the concept of self-care. In a world that is constantly telling us that we need to be productive and busy in order to add value to society, that promotes a lifestyle of constant stress, anxiety and worry, and in a world that tries to avoid the inevitability of frail bodies and failing health… self-care is a call to look after ourselves, look after out health… offering us permission to slow down… look inward… and show ourselves love.

We are crafted in God’s image, as the bible tells us, after all… We are human beings made by a loving creator, and God abides both in us and around us. So does that not mean that we should take care of ourselves?... We should show ourselves love by caring for our bodies, minds, and souls.

But isn’t this also overly self-indulgent?...

There are many critics of the ‘self-care’ movement. Some will even go as far as to say that ‘self-care’ is hyper-individualistic, irresponsible, and just plain selfish.

And when we think about how consumer culture has latched on to the concept of self-care, packaging it as the latest anti-ageing wellness products, overconsumption, and promoting hyper-individualism at the expense of those who are poor and suffering… then we can see how this idea of self-care might be a little problematic.

But does it have to be one or the other? Do we need to choose between, on one hand, taking care of our neighbours and caring for the world, or, on the other hand, taking care of ourselves, filling our own cup, and focusing on our own joy?

Can we not do both? As Christians, can we not live out our faith in both this internal and external way? And does not filling our own cup mean that we can better serve and help others?

Our scripture reading from the Gospel of Luke, about Mary and Martha, is often read in this kind of dichotomy, this either-or. Either you identify with Mary OR you identify with Martha. Traditionally, Mary was said to represent ‘the way of contemplation’, or what we might call ‘self-care’ in our modern age. Martha represents the ‘way of action’, what we might call selfless service towards others. Perhaps you can see yourself in one of these two women.

In our gospel story, Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet, listening to his teachings. By doing so, she is engaging in a form of self-care, looking after her spiritual and mental health.

But Martha thinks Mary is being too self-indulgent. Martha is left with the burden of taking care of the home by herself. She is performing all the duties of being a host to make sure that Jesus and his companions will be fed and cared for while they are there. And Mary has just left Martha to do this all on her own! I don’t know about you, but I personally feel bad for Martha - this is not a fair situation.

Now, in the earliest interpretations of this gospel story, the early church fathers really did make it seem that Mary’s way of doing things, which represented the ‘contemplative’ or inward way of living the faith, was superior to Martha’s ‘active’ way of living the faith. And that’s understandable because in our story, when Martha confronts Jesus about the fact that Mary is not helping her, Jesus responds by telling Martha that she is worried and distracted by many things… and that Mary has chosen the better part.

So in the early church, this understanding of Mary’s way being superior manifested as this idea that a mystical or contemplative spirituality was the highest point of Christian life. And in the earliest days of the church, when Christians were being persecuted by people in power, this contemplative form of spirituality found its expression through martyrdom, where the most faithful path was to die as Christ died.

And then, when Christianity was legalized in the year 313, and martyrdom was no longer necessary, this way of expressing a contemplative spirituality shifted to asceticism. You may have heard of the desert fathers and mothers, who were solitary Christians. They committed to living reclusive lives as monks or ascetics, living alone in the desert, so that they could commune with Christ’s spirit, letting go of the world and all of its distractions. And later on, we had the monastic communities and orders that were established to help people practice their faith in this inward way by removing all worldly distractions.

But what about the people in the world who are suffering? Does our faith require that we abstain from anything worldly at all, removing all the so-called ‘distractions’? And is it true that in the story of Mary and Martha, Jesus is telling us that the contemplative way is superior to the active way of living our faith? A closer look at this story may tell us otherwise.

Now it’s important to situate this story within its first-century context. Mary, Martha and Jesus were all Jewish, and lived within a Greco-Roman society that was highly patriarchal, which meant that for the most part, men worked and engaged in spiritual leadership and teachings, while women looked after the home. Now, in Judaism, it was not forbidden for women to be instructed in Jewish teachings. They were allowed to participate, but it was still considered highly unusual for women to do so, likely because they were always so busy taking care of the household. Yet we know from many of the stories in the Gospel of Luke that Jesus crossed those traditional gender boundaries and instructed women as he would his male disciples.

So with all of this in mind, we come to realize that Jesus is not rebuking Martha because her actions were ‘inferior’, but rather points to the rare opportunity offered for a woman to be instructed by an enlightened Jewish teacher. Mary recognized this rare opportunity and thus felt the most hospitable thing she could do was sit at Jesus’ feet and take in his spiritual wisdom. It was a small window of opportunity for self-care, amidst a life devoted to serving others. Martha, on the other hand, had become too preoccupied and distracted with her traditional role to notice this opportunity. So by Jesus saying that Mary had ‘chosen the better part’, Jesus was permitting Martha to do the same as Mary, to seize the rare opportunity of being taught by a spiritual master, allowing Martha who was always busy taking care of others, to finally engage in a form of self-care for her own soul. Dinner could wait.

Now the German medieval mystic Meister Eckhart takes this interpretation further to the point of a complete reversal, suggesting that Martha is in fact ‘more advanced’ in her spiritual knowledge, while Mary is at an earlier stage of her journey. Mary is said to have ‘chosen the better part’ not because her actions are superior to Martha’s, but because it is what Mary needs in that moment for her spiritual growth. Thus, Jesus’ dialogue with Martha invites her to be patient with her sister, who is not yet able to integrate the contemplative and active in her life.

So, as modern-day Christians who are doing our best to walk the path of Jesus in 2025, what can we learn from these two sisters?

Well, in my opinion, while tradition dictates that each sister represents a different way of living out our faith, I believe that we need to embody both. The sisters need each other.

If we are only focused on an inward, individual way of living our faith, we run the risk of becoming self-indulgent and indifferent to the suffering of others. We miss out on the ways that Christ manifests in our relationships with others, and fall under the false illusion that other people's pain and what happens in the world have no bearing on us.

On the other hand, an active service-oriented way of living our faith without any form of self-care or inward reflection can lead one to be bitter, burnt out, stressed out, even falling into a state of despair when our health fails us and we can no longer do the things that we used to, or when we watch the news and see all the injustices in the world.

So my invitation to you is to think about how you can integrate more of both Mary and Martha in your lives. And this goes beyond gender. You may not identify as a woman, but you may identify with a propensity for busyness. Perhaps you are someone who was always a ‘doer’. You always need to be busy doing something or helping someone. Perhaps you get your sense of self-worth and your sense of value from doing things for others…

This is not a bad thing. This is a wonderful thing. But if we only value ourselves for what we do for others, if we only love ourselves based on how much others love us… Then, do we really love ourselves? What happens when the people we love don’t need us like they used to? What happens when our health falters and we need time to rest, or become dependent on others? Do we still feel loved…valuable… worthy of being taken care of? If not… then it may be time to focus on a more inward faith: cultivating that inner relationship with God and engaging in honest self-reflection, because I promise you, God seeks to abide ever more fully within you. But we have to slow down enough to notice God’s seeking presence there, to hear the Spirit when it is calling and seeking to flow through us.

Or maybe you identify more as someone who is a thinker. You love to read, to pray, to reflect, to be in your own space. Your faith is more of a contemplative faith, one where you feel a personal relationship with the Divine. You feel God’s presence in your life, and you feel the privilege and the gratitude for that presence. Maybe you even try to shut off distractions, like the news and all the noise around you, because it’s just too much.

Again, this is not a bad thing. Many psychologists and therapists today recommend that we limit the amount of news media and social media that we take in, because it can have such a negative impact on our mental health.

But we don’t need to cut ourselves off from the world completely. In fact, by doing so, we might miss out on how God is active in the world. We won't notice how Christ is present even in the brokenness and suffering of our world. Being made in the image of a loving Creator means that Christ also exists in the other, in those different to us. Jesus told us to love God and love our neighbour. And sometimes loving our neighbour requires that we act. That we stand up for others. That we lend a helping hand to the best of our ability to others around us who need support. That we treat others with love and kindness and respect, even people we don’t like or disagree with or have different views or beliefs.

But we can even just start with the people in our lives. Perhaps there is someone you’ve been meaning to call, check in on and see how they’re doing. But you’ve been putting it off. Or there is clutter in your home that you’ve been meaning to get rid of. Or perhaps it’s time to carve out some sacred space just for you. Whether it’s taking that walk in the morning that you always say you’re going to take, or trying a new hobby that you’ve always wanted to try. Perhaps it’s carving out more time on a daily basis for prayer and self-reflection. Maybe you have items in your home or your wardrobe that need replacing… and taking care of you means allowing yourself to replace those items without feeling guilty about it. Perhaps there are additional ways in which you can care for you, and honour yourself as God’s loved creation.

Whatever you choose to do, just know that there are a lot of ways that we can embody more of both Mary and Martha in our lives. We just need to take the time and space to decide that we’re worth it, that we’re going to say yes to practising our faith boldly, both inwardly and outwardly, no matter what stage of life we’re in. And that we are not going to give from an empty cup, but instead permit ourselves to live out our faith from a place of fullness. What do you think?

Amen.

My mind was absolutely blown by this series. It led to the discovery of a whole new world of quantum reality - one where all creation is at its core vibrational, where we emit vibrational frequencies, and we attract energies that match those vibrational frequencies…

…AND we could manipulate and shift the vibrational frequencies that we put out to attract things we desire into our lives.

Through a combination of clear intention, deep belief, and aligned action, I learned that manifesting the impossible became possible.

That year, I travelled to a number of personal development weekend conferences in the USA - Miami, Dallas, and Washington D.C. A number of speakers were featured at these conferences, including many Christians (mostly from the evangelical tradition), who taught that there were specific ways to pray to help you seemingly ‘get what you want’. Much of what they taught was backed by multiple scripture passages. (i.e. Matthew 7:7, Matthew 21:22, etc.)

Fast forward to today - more than a decade later. I’ve learned a lot, grown a lot, and had a lot of time to play with these concepts.

The truth as I see it now?

There are MANY nuances to the art of manifestation - including various energetic and structural forces - both individual and collective (karmic, systemic, etc.) that impact manifestation - as well as the emotional blocks and programming within our own psyches that impact its efficacy - which are often not talked about. These aspects are definitely not spoken about in popular new age works such as ‘The Secret’.

Generally speaking, however, the overall concept is true. Manifestation is based on scientifically-backed principles & cosmic laws that I have seen in action too many times to deny. The Law of Attraction - is a quantum law, like the law of gravity. Generally speaking - like frequency attracts like frequency. But it is not just our ‘thoughts’ that emit frequencies - rather it is our whole being/psyche - including both conscious and unconscious minds (which connects us to collective ‘archetypal’ energies).

My initial discovery of these concepts back in 2013 were truly liberating for me and early on in my ‘personal development’ journey, I had an absolute blast manifesting all kinds of things in my life with this knowledge.

Not only was it liberating, but it helped me better understand Christian concepts such as free-will, and being made in the IMAGE of God.

As I see it - God is the ultimate CREATOR - the source of all life, all consciousness, all reality.

As humans made in the IMAGE of God, we were also designed with deep creative capacity on multiple plains. Playing with manifestation helped me not just understand this, but actually experience it.

With all this being said, I realize NOW that the visions and intentions which I naturally carried the strongest belief around, and manifested MOST easily - were the ones the Holy Spirit planted in me.

An example: In 2013 - I wrote in my journal an exact description of my future husband, down to the physical features and accent. Three months later, I met him - the exact man I’d written about! Australian accent and all.

Did I manifest him? Was this a result of my egoic ability to ‘manifest my desires’? Or did I simply receive a vision of my soul mate from a higher plain of existence? Perhaps a bit of both - but ultimately I believe he was the man I was meant to be with regardless. You COULD say that my ego mind simply got on board with the Spirit’s agenda.

Which brings me to how I approach “manifestation” today.

I do think it is possible to manifest things that gratify our ego and don’t necessarily align with our highest path according to Divine will.

This CAN be empowering for a time - but it can also lead into danger and ‘temptation’ for egoic power and control if unchecked… thus care and discernment is important when using this art consciously (keeping in mind, we are ALWAYS manifesting whether we are aware of it or not).

So how I guard against this in myself - is tuning into the Spirit’s vision for my life - the parts that ARE clear - and lean into them, surrendering to the Spirit’s current. The parts that aren’t clear? I play with - and ‘try on’ different possibilities, but always with a greater feeling of surrender and openness to what’s ‘off my radar’ - with deep faith that God will lead me exactly where I’m meant to be.

‘Manifestation’ is still happening, but the feeling is different.

It’s less about consciously ‘making things happen’, and more about getting out of my own way and LETTING things happen - allowing the Spirit’s vision for me to unfold (yes, even when it doesn’t align with my ego’s desires).

Ultimately - I believe that the desire to ‘manifest’ comes from the ultimate desire of the human soul - to grow ever closer to God, ever closer to the source of all reality.

So that’s it - in a nutshell.

This is by no means 'the truth' or 'the best approach' - just my own experience and thought process which has shifted and evolved over the years (and likely will continue to do so).

Why am I sharing this, and why now?

As a candidate for ordained ministry in the United Church of Canada and an integrative psycho-spiritual coach and therapist (working towards qualification) - my mission is to build bridges, not walls, between spiritual communities, traditions, and realms of thought. This is what ‘The Modern Mystic’ is ultimately about.

Subscribe now

What are your thoughts about ‘manifestation’? Have you seen it at work in your own life? How does it inform your spirituality?

On June 22nd, I preached a sermon at Armour Heights Presbyterian Church that addresses two such passages that have both been attributed to the Apostle Paul, offering very different perspectives on female leadership in the early church.

In this sermon, I explore the historical and cultural context of Paul’s world to uncover what he ‘really’ intended, so that we as modern-day spiritual seekers and Christ followers can better live into Jesus’ message while embracing all of who we are.

The below video is a livestream recording of the entire worship service. The scripture readings begin at 45:54, with the sermon beginning at 50:00. If you prefer to read the sermon rather than watch, the written version is provided below.

DISCOVERING OUR FREEDOM AND OUR GIFTS by Hannah Athanasiadis

Some of you may know that for the past two years I have been studying theology and training for ordained ministry at Emmanuel College, at the University of Toronto. And while I still have a few more years to go, thus far I’ve been truly enjoying my studies. Emmanuel is a great learning environment that is warm, inclusive, and allows us as students and ministers in training to learn and develop our own theological views. This is very important, because there are a lot of bible colleges out there that will try to impose a certain type of Christianity or a certain way of reading the bible.

So, as a student, I have been exploring what kind of minister and spiritual leader I want to be. Particularly as a young woman who is in a traditionally male-dominated space. Part of the way I’ve been figuring that all out is by getting educated on the Bible and examining different ways to interpret it, particularly texts that seem to contradict one another or are what I would describe as highly problematic for modern times. Our scripture reading from 1 Timothy this morning is a great example. And I’m going to be completely honest with you; it was texts like these… texts that try to suppress women from stepping into leadership roles, texts that seem to demonize same sex relationships, and that preach a type of exclusionary faith, that quite honestly really turned me off of Christianity as a religion for much of my life.

So when I dove into my New Testament studies, and I finally learned about the historical, cultural and literary contexts behind some of these scripture passages, it actually blew my mind, and completely changed the way that I engage with these texts. As a result, I have experienced a deepening of my faith, and I’ve become proud of calling myself a Christian.

And I thought - if only all Christians could understand the context behind these texts in the way that I’m learning them, we wouldn’t have the kind of faith that alienates and excludes certain groups of people from living authentically and being who they are. Instead, our faith would encourage us to embrace our spiritual gifts and live as God created us to be.

So what I want to do today, is to share what I learned this past year, specifically about women in Paul’s letter to the Romans and the letter to 1 Timothy, so that rather than simply ignore a text like this, we can engage with it in ways that actually reflect the truth of who the early followers of Jesus were, and who we as Christians are called to be today.

So let’s dive in.

Now, both the letter to the Romans and the letters to Timothy claim to be written by the Apostle Paul. When I say claim, that word is important, and I’m going to come back to that in a moment.

But first, let’s review what we know about the Apostle Paul.

Paul was a first-century Jewish Pharisee. According to his own writings, Paul never met Jesus in the flesh before he was crucified. But somehow he got wind of this Jesus movement coming out of Jerusalem, and thought it was complete blasphemy to proclaim Jesus as the Messiah. So Paul made it his mission to prosecute the early Christians, until a blinding vision of the risen Christ led him to do a complete 180-degree turn, radically transforming him from a fierce persecutor of early Christ-followers to one of the most influential early church leaders. Some of you know this story very well, and you know that Paul went on to become one of the key apostles responsible for spreading the gospel of Jesus throughout the Roman Empire.

So many of our New Testament texts are letters that Paul wrote to specific early church communities that Paul himself helped establish, and these letters address specific issues or concerns in those communities.

Now, as mentioned, both the letter to the Romans and 1 Timothy, which are where our two scripture readings come from today, claim to be written by Paul. But here’s the thing. Not all the books in the New Testament that claim to be written by Paul were actually written by Paul. In the ancient world, it was quite common for unknown authors to pretend to be someone of importance and authority, so that what they wrote would hold more weight. It was also a way that they could honour an author by writing in their name. Today we have copyrights and trademarks, which mean that if you were to do such a thing, even if it was well intentioned, you would probably be sued. Of course, those systems did not exist in the ancient world.

So out of the two letters we have read from today, I can tell you that one was definitely written by Paul, and one was probably not.

Can you take a guess as to which one was written by Paul?

If you guessed ‘Romans’, you are correct. Scholars are generally in agreement that Romans is an authentic Paul letter.

So the passage that we heard today from Romans, which demonstrated how women and men in Paul’s world led alongside each other, is actually a true reflection of how those earliest communities operated, what they believed, and how they interpreted the gospel of Jesus. And there are so many well-known passages from Paul that speak to this, that declare that all are one who believe in Christ Jesus. In the world of the church, according to Paul, gender does not matter, class does not not matter, race, culture, even age does not matter. What matters, as far as Paul is concerned, is your depth of faith, your spiritual gifts, your willingness to use those gifts in service to the community, and your willingness to open your heart to the mystical experience of the resurrected Christ within you and all around you through his Spirit.

And maybe you’ve heard this all before, and perhaps for us today, that might not seem like such a big deal. But you have to understand that Paul’s world was one that operated within a Greco-Roman cultural dynamic that was highly patriarchal and very hierarchical. What do I mean by that? Men were the head of the household, so they were at the top of the hierarchy, then came women who were expected to manage the household, and then came the children. Then came household labourers, and then slaves. And while today we don’t have clear class distinctions in the same way, some of us perhaps were raised in cultures or households where a hierarchy like this still exists today.

So in an extremely class-oriented society, where the Roman Emperor was considered to be the ultimate father figure of the whole Roman society, for women to lead… for Paul to say that his coworker Phoebe is to be welcomed in Rome in a way that is fitting of saints… was extremely radical for the time. In fact, not only was it radical, but it would have actually appeared to be quite threatening to the structure of Roman society and would have been harshly judged by outsiders. People from outside the community would have found it not only a bit strange, but actually shameful, for women and men to work alongside each other, that slaves and freeborn, Jews and Greeks ate and worshipped together.

And yet these first-century Christians dared to be who they were called to be, and stepped into this radical vision of community.

Now our reading from 1 Timothy paints a very different picture about women, saying that women are to remain silent, and that the only way they can be redeemed from Eve’s curse is through childbearing. So what happened here?

Well, firstly, scholars are fairly certain that 1 Timothy was not written by Paul. In fact, not only was it not written by Paul, but it was most likely written thirty years after Paul died, by a follower or admirer of Paul. This admirer was writing a letter to address specific issues in the community of Ephesus, which is where Timothy, who was Paul’s companion, had been stationed before Paul died. So based on this timeline, we can guess that First Timothy was written approximately 35-40 years after Romans. So what happened in those 35-40 years?

Well, all the original apostles started to die: Paul, Peter, and their companions and associates who had remained in each of these communities. So in the wake of these deaths, a new generation of leadership was starting to form. Additionally, these early church communities were growing and starting to garner some unwanted attention from the larger Roman society. Remember when I said that some outsiders thought that women and men leading alongside one another, and all classes of people being treated as equals, was considered shameful? That’s because the larger Roman society operated within an honour and shame cultural dynamic.

And there are actually many cultures today that still operate within this dynamic. Men are expected to bring honour upon the family through their work and acquiring of wealth, while women are expected to maintain the reputation of the family by fitting into a specific gender role and avoiding any so-called ‘shameful’ behaviour.

So in First Timothy, the author was particularly concerned about some of the behaviour that was going on within the church community in Ephesus, which was damaging the reputation of the group.

There were disputes over who should lead these church communities, given that the old generation of leadership had died, and there were also concerns about certain so-called ‘false teachings’ that were impacting many of the women in the community. While there are some different opinions about what exactly these false teachings entailed, there are a number of scholars who do agree that these teachings involved an ascetic ideology, which discouraged young widows from remarrying and bearing children. So there were a lot of women in this particular community, mostly widows who were choosing to remain celibate, and who were shirking some of their traditional responsibilities, so that they could live more freely. And unfortunately, this was compromising the community’s reputation in the eyes of the public. Imagine that! Women choosing to remain single, in community with each other, unattached to a man and a life of constant submission!

So this is what the letter to First Timothy is seeking to address. The author is essentially doing damage control. It’s not that women couldn’t lead, because later in 1 Timothy the letter does actually indirectly address female deacons or deaconesses, just like Phoebe was a deacon… but it was about encouraging the widowed women who were falling prey to these so called ‘false teachings’ to return to their traditional roles, so that the community could restore its reputation.

And unfortunately, rather than understand how the passages about women in 1 Timothy were speaking to a very specific situation in Ephesus, it became a framework for a larger patriarchal and hierarchical version of the church, which in many ways steered away from Paul’s original vision of a collaborative and communal model. And this still exists today in many Christian denominations, where women are not allowed to be Bishops or ministers.

In Paul’s world, gender was not a qualifying factor into what made a good leader, nor was cultural background, how much money you had, whether you owned property, or even your age. For Paul, it was what was in your heart, your depth of faith, that mattered.

So, how do we as modern-day Christians get back to Paul’s egalitarian and charismatic vision of spiritual community, one that is inclusive and accepting and non-judgmental? Well, I believe that part of the answer lies in beginning to think about ourselves and others in terms of spiritual gifts.

I believe that every single one of us is endowed with unique and special gifts. These are ways in which the Holy Spirit uses us and moves through us. And our gender, our age, our life experiences, they don’t necessarily inform what gifts we have, but they do form part of our identity. And by embracing these identities as strengths, it can help us to lean into our spiritual gifts even more so.

What if you were to truly step into the brilliance that is you? And I know that might sound cliche and you might think well of course I have some strengths, I have some things I’m good at… but underneath, most of us are so plagued by feelings of guilt and shame, of feeling like we’re not enough… of living in the shadows of what other people think of us… that we don’t see our unique brilliance, we don’t see ourselves as spiritual beings crafted in the image of the Creator.

Every single human being has the Christ seed within. Paul knew this. And I believe that Paul had a gift of being able to see that in other people. When we begin to recognize how the spirit expresses itself through us, we can more clearly see that in other people, too.

So that’s what I’d like to invite you to consider. Consider your gifts, your strengths. Where are you being called to serve in your life? What are you being called to step into, or embrace more fully?

The second thing I invite you to consider, is what gifts others in your life have. In particular, I want you to think about somebody that kind of gets on your nerves, maybe even somebody here at church! We all have those people in our lives, whether it’s our fellow congregant, or our partner, our parents, even our kids… we love them… but they can also annoy us, right? So next time you see this person, I want you to think about the special gifts they have… What do you love or value about this person?

Perhaps if we are more able to recognize our own gifts, and the gifts in others, perhaps then, we could truly reclaim Paul’s vision of being a faith community that honours people for who they are, and that understands scripture in ways that are liberating and non-judgmental.

To embrace this vision however, we’re going to need to do away with the honour and shame dynamics that still plague our psyches today. Many of us still care deeply about what others think of us. We care about our reputation. We don’t want to ‘dishonour’ our families. What if we were to liberate ourselves from the constraints of society's expectations?

Beyond gender, beyond age, beyond cultural and political division and hierarchy. This is the kind of Christianity that I want to be a part of. What about you?

Amen.

In an age marked by an increasing hunger for a spirituality that transcends traditional religious boundaries and speaks to the pressing social crises of our time, the interplay between mysticism and activism has become a topic of increasing importance for theological and ethical reflection.

While Christian mystical spirituality offers the individual a pathway towards an intimate relationship and embodied experience of the divine through Christ, activism seeks to manifest Christ's love communally through social justice work and compassionate service to others. Classically, these two spiritual paths have often been juxtaposed, as seen in interpretations of the biblical story of Mary and Martha in Luke 10:38-42. The story is often read as a dichotomy: Mary as ‘the way of contemplation’ and Martha as the lesser ‘way of action.’ Yet, mystics such as Meister Eckhart and Simone Weil, alongside liberation theologians such as Pedro Casaldáliga and José-Maria Vigil demonstrate that the contemplative and active dimensions of faith are not mutually exclusive, but rather two interconnected strands. As such, this paper argues that Mary and Martha are not opposed to one another but serve best when integrated; offering a model that can help us attain the goal of Christian ethics in a contemporary socio-ecclesial context.

Mary and Martha: The Way of Contemplation and The Way of Action

Let us now turn to Mary and Martha in Luke 10:38-42 who illustrate the classical pathways of mysticism as contemplation and service-oriented action. In this story, Martha opens up her home to Jesus. She is eager to serve and preoccupied with all the tasks of providing hospitality to Jesus that would be expected of a woman in her time and culture. While Martha is busy with preparations, her sister Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, immersed in his teachings. Noticing that Mary is absent from her ‘duties’ and frustrated that Jesus has allowed her to work alone, Martha says to Jesus; “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her, then, to help me.” Jesus responds lovingly (as demonstrated through the gentle repetition ‘Martha, Martha’), telling Martha that she is distracted by many things, but that only one thing is necessary, and that Mary has chosen ‘the better part’.

From the earliest days of patristic biblical commentary, the story of Mary and Martha has been interpreted in a way that values the contemplative life; vita contemplativa, over and against the practical vita activa. This aligns with general patristic thought, which according to Catholic moral theologian Servais Pinckaers, places mystical spirituality as “the high point of Christian ethics”. This prioritizing of mystical spirituality by the early Christian communities found its expression predominantly through martyrdom (i.e. self-sacrifice for the sake of Christ) in the second and third centuries when Christians were persecuted. After the Edict of Milan which legalized Christianity in 313 C.E., however, martyrdom was no longer necessary. Thus, asceticism became the new ‘high’ point of the ethical life; a contemplative ‘renouncing’ of the world characterized by voluntary suffering, in order to devote oneself to the mystical path of Christ. But is such a ‘hierarchy’ between the contemplative and active life inherent within this story? A closer look at the hermeneutics of the text within its historical context, and the dynamic exchange between Jesus and Martha can help us understand this story differently.

According to Earle E. Ellis, the social and cultural context of this biblical narrative viewed women as a marginalized group. While Judaism did not “forbid women to be instructed in the Torah”, it was still considered highly unusual. Women were expected to serve their families by way of hospitality; cooking, cleaning, raising children, and attending to the physical needs of guests. Yet we know from many of the stories in the Gospel of Luke that Jesus crossed traditional gender boundaries and instructed women as he would his male disciples. With this understanding, we come to realize that Jesus is not rebuking Martha because her actions were ‘inferior’, but rather points to the rare opportunity offered for a woman to be instructed by an enlightened Jewish teacher. Mary recognized this rare opportunity and thus felt the most hospitable thing she could do was sit at Jesus’ feet and take in his spiritual wisdom. Martha on the other hand had become too preoccupied and distracted with her traditional role to notice the rare opportunity that was before her. Thus, by Jesus saying that Mary had ‘chosen the better part’, Jesus was arguably permitting Martha to do the same as Mary, namely to seize the rare opportunity of being taught by a spiritual master and thereby balancing the moral virtues related to service and hospitality (which Martha already deeply embodied), with the virtues pertaining to the inner spiritual life.

The German medieval mystic Meister Eckhart takes this interpretation further to the point of a complete reversal, suggesting that Martha is in fact ‘more advanced’ in her spiritual knowledge, while Mary is at an earlier stage of her journey. Mary is said to have ‘chosen the better part’ not because her actions are better than Martha’s, but because it is what Mary needs in that moment for her spiritual growth. Thus Jesus’s dialogue with Martha invites her to be patient with her sister, who is not yet able to integrate the contemplative and active in her life.

Active Mysticism and Mystical Activism: A Closer Look

If we understand Christian ethics to point us towards action in the world in a way that models Christ, then classical mysticism takes this idea of ‘emulating Christ’ one step further. Rather than simply imitate Christ, the goal is to become one with Christ. Referred to as Theosis in the Eastern Orthodox Church, or ‘Divinization’ within Western Theology, the goal of the Christian mystic is inner union with Christ; an experiential realization of the divine within oneself, whereby the individual soul becomes unified and absorbed into God’s self through continuous contemplation, prayer and self-surrender. This understanding is based on a mystical interpretation of Imago Dei, ascribing the aspect of humans that is made in the image of God to be the “highest part of the soul”. Meister Eckhart determined that the soul is made “according to the highest perfection”, in which God has poured out Godself, yet remains ‘unmixed’. Other medieval mystics such as St. Teresa of Avila corroborate such an understanding of Imago Dei. In her profound work The Interior Castle, St. Teresa uses the metaphorical image of the soul as a crystal castle with many chambers. The central chamber is the most sacred and holy, whereby “God and the soul hold their most secret intercourse.”

At this point, it is necessary to acknowledge the limitations of language to describe states beyond intellectual comprehension, which all mystics must grapple with in their writing. An understanding of God ‘dwelling within the human soul’ could very easily reduce God to immanence only, but as Meister Eckhart says, God remains ‘unmixed’, thus, this immanence (fully embodied and perfected within the human and divine Jesus as ‘Christ’), does not in any way limit God’s transcendence. This classic notion of the ‘soul’ also gives one the image of a static energetic substance within oneself, which speaks little of the relationality of this aspect of self with all transcendent divinity. A better description then, might liken the soul to a dynamic ‘mirror’ with no inherent substance or reality (i.e. beguine mystic Marguerite Porete’s ‘mirror of simple souls’). We are made in the image of God, as opposed to being God. Still, many of the medieval mystics use the language of a holy, mirror-like dwelling place within the energetic body, which, while dormant in most human beings, can be actualized by way of prayer, contemplation, and selfless service, leading one to a mystical state of consciousness whereby one views all reality ‘through God’s eyes’ and is no longer experientially identified with the separate, egoic “I”. Within this paradigm, the mystic is inextricably linked to God’s divinity in everyone and everything. This understanding can help avoid interpreting mystical literature in a way that deems mysticism ‘individualistic’ and ‘selfish’. In my view, true mysticism leads one to a total ‘de-centering’. As opposed to being singular, the mystic becomes fully identified with the divinity in all things, acting as its mirror, and is not concerned with personal egoic desires.

Active Mysticism

If one is truly to see the divinity in all things and all people, this naturally leads to active service in the world. According to Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Levinas, knowing God means knowing what has to be done ‘in the world’. Levinas was a vocal critic of the kind of ascetic mysticism that collapsed into itself, leading to absence from the world instead of action. For Levinas, the ‘infinity’ of God can only be found in the exteriority of ethical action and in a profound ‘face-to-face’ encounter with the other, not in an interior state that blurs the lines between self and others and thus makes one indifferent to another’s suffering.

To better understand why much of traditional mysticism has tended towards an ascetic and monastic ‘absence’ from the world (besides the historical evolution from martyrdom), and to discover whether an ‘active’ mysticism is possible, I find the descriptions of profound enlightened states by contemporary mystic and psychiatrist Dr. David R. Hawkins to be quite useful.

While Hawkins experienced the onset of many mystical states of consciousness from a young age, the most intense experience happened when he was on his deathbed due to extreme health conditions. There and then he experienced a total revelation of God. Hawkins describes this experience as so shocking to the ego that his personal ‘self’ was totally obliterated. (Here I am reminded of Marguerite Porete’s fourth stage of the pious soul towards annihilation of the self, where love is said to ‘shock reason’ to death). After this experience, Hawkins' body made a full recovery in health, yet this state of consciousness made it impossible to function ‘in the world’. Subsequently, Hawkins left behind his busy psychiatric practice in New York City to live as an ascetic in rural Arizona, often going weeks without eating and having no contact with the outside world. Three decades later, however, by the ‘will of God’ Hawkins returned to the world to more actively serve humanity. He speaks of having to ‘re-learn’ how to function in the world; how to speak, think and act socially in a way that did not ‘jar’ others. He abandoned his daily ascetic practice of meditation in favour of contemplation. Contemplation, he says, is a way in which the mystic can continue their communion with God while in action. They can be both Mary and Martha at the same time. Every act of service for another becomes a devotional act for God, because the mystic sees God in the other, as articulated by Levinas, and deems all life as sacred. By comparison, meditation takes one ‘out of the world’. For Hawkins, high ecstatic states would take him out of the world with much time spent in solitary mystical trances. As such, Hawkins taught his students to ‘live your life like a prayer’, and to ‘be in the world, but not of it’. Although the enlightened states of consciousness Hawkins experienced are extremely rare, his life and teachings demonstrate that even the most profound mystical states don’t necessitate asceticism, although a season of asceticism might be necessary to ‘adjust’ to the new reality in extreme cases.

Mystical Activism

Thus far, the way I have presented action ‘in the world’ as an inevitability of mysticism might give the impression that contemplation precedes action. However, that is not the case. Equally true is that a deep spiritual mysticism can come about through activism and social-justice work. Considering what Levinas and Hawkins have said about experiencing God in the other, we can understand Martha’s commitment to service and hospitality as another ‘entry point’ to Mary’s contemplative life; what can be called: ‘mystical activism’.

For Latin American liberation theologians Pedro Casaldáliga and José-Maria Vigil, a spirituality that does not relate meaningfully to “the state of domination and dependence in which two-thirds of humanity live, with an annual toll of thirty million dead from starvation and malnutrition”, is not a spirituality worthwhile of exploration. From the perspective of liberation theology, the church and its members are challenged into mystical ascent to God by way of descending into the world, working towards the ethical goal of collective human flourishing (i.e. working to bring about God’s kingdom on earth). For liberation theologians, this is done through solidarity with the poor and oppressed, and re-committing oneself to ethical action rooted in love, justice, freedom, forgiveness, brotherhood and sisterhood.

In his poem “Questions on the Ascent and Descent of Mount Carmel”, Casaldáliga reflects on the mysticism of St. John of the Cross, which speaks of a simultaneous ‘ascent’ by way of contemplation and self-giving, and ‘descent’ towards humanity and the world through action and service. “What path will you take to heaven, other than earth?” Casaldáliga asks. “If we do not take on the responsibilities of the age, in our daily lives of living and working together, struggling and celebrating, politics and faith… what mission are we taking on? What call are we answering? How are we collaborating in God’s work?”

Such an example of profound spiritual activism that strives to bring about ‘the kingdom of God’ on earth can be found in the life and work of South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Tutu not only fought tirelessly to end apartheid in South Africa, but also played a pivotal role in guiding the nation through its transition as chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. In God Has a Dream, Tutu reflects on the spiritually transformative experience of South Africa’s 1994 election. Following Nelson Mandela’s release in 1990 and the gradual repeal of apartheid laws, South Africa teetered on the edge of civil war, with thousands losing their lives in the fraught transition. In the months leading up to the first democratic election, insurrections threatened to derail the process and intimidate Black South Africans from voting. Yet, against all odds, these efforts failed. On election day, people of all races and backgrounds stood in line for hours, peacefully casting their votes. Tutu reflects on how easily armed groups could have derailed the entire event—yet no such violence occurred. Instead, the day became a profound experience of unity. The election booth became a symbol of spiritual transfiguration; people entered it as one person and emerged as another. All South Africans, regardless of skin colour, recognized their shared humanity and common dreams, embracing the hope of a new future together.

The underpinnings of this mystical communal experience by way of political liberation is captured in Tutu’s theology of ‘Ubuntu’; a Zulu word which means “I am, because you are”. ‘Ubuntu’ intrinsically understands what Levinas calls ‘responsibility for the other’. Once again, it is based on the theological foundation of the Imago Dei; all human beings are made in the image of God and thus are equally God’s children. Our destinies are intrinsically bound up with one another’s. While Tutu believes Ubuntu applies to all human beings equally, he believes Christians are especially obligated to practice it. Tutu invites us to go beyond fighting for ‘equality’ to love one another as ‘brothers and sisters’ as Jesus taught. This love of the other also extends to one’s enemies, a difficult teaching to put into practice. According to Tutu, we must love our enemies not only because Jesus taught us to, but because we recognize the tragic state that a human must live in within themselves to be filled with so much hatred. What one does to another, they do to themselves. If we are honest with ourselves, we also might acknowledge that the same violent tendencies that exist in others can manifest in ourselves if given the right conditions to surface. Thus, a willingness to look within as the mystics do, and confront our own ‘shadow’ helps breed humility within us, deepening our faith and reliance on God’s grace and helping us see both friend and foe through the eyes of love and deep compassion.

This insight about how hateful power can corrupt both the poor and privileged is captured well by French mystic and political activist Simone Weil in her commentary on ‘force’. In her early years, Weil was tireless in her political activism, heavily involved in secular socialist and Marxist labour movements. However, she later came to see the downside of such movements, noting how when the oppressed gained access to ‘force’ they became as corrupted by it as their previous oppressors. Only through deep ‘saintliness’ and cultivation of inner virtue could one remain ethically unscathed by force. Weil’s subsequent disillusionment with the liberation movements of her day, and her deep compassion for the suffering of humankind sent her into a profound state of inner turmoil. But not all hope was lost. In her painful inner experience of spiritual brokenness (what St. John of the Cross calls the ‘Dark Night of the Soul’), Weil experienced a revelation of the suffering Christ on the cross. Subsequently, transformative mystical experiences of divine grace began to flood her life with an irresistible beauty and power. These mystical experiences, while restoring her hope and faith in humanity and bringing her into a ‘union’ with Christ internally, never led her to abandon her activism. Her mysticism led to an even deeper understanding of justice, which she came to see as “the most Christian” of all the classical Greek virtues, offering a direct pathway to “the true God”.

Contemporary Applications

As we have seen, mysticism without activism, and activism without mysticism are prone to pitfalls. Mysticism in isolation runs the risk of becoming self-indulgent and making one indifferent to the suffering of others; falling under the false illusion that another’s plight has no bearing on one’s own, or that one’s actions have no bearing on another. Activism without mystical understanding can lead one to ‘shift’ the power hierarchy rather than erase it, or risk falling into agonizing states of burnout and despair in the face of all the suffering and injustice in the world.

To circle back to our biblical narrative of Martha and Mary; we might say that Martha without Mary becomes distracted and burdened by the world’s never-ending demands, and loses sight of the spiritual beauty of God’s creation. Mary without Martha is quite simply a bad host; leaving Jesus and his disciples without food, water or shelter; taking in spiritual wisdom, but never offering its gifts through servanthood. In isolation, Martha misses out on the opportunity to experience God’s beauty within her, and Mary misses out on the profound spiritual experience of being God’s agent in the world. Together, however, the experience is quite different. Martha as Mary, and Mary as Martha experience the profound beauty of what it means to be made in the image of God. God radiates within them as immanent and transcendent, as they devote themselves to the other. Together they become united in Christ internally and externally; helping to create a reality where all God’s children can flourish.

Martha and Mary in Practice: Personal Observations

Growing up with Greek-Canadian roots, I am very familiar with the female persona of Martha. Greek women have a reputation for doing hospitality well, and the matriarchs of my family were no exception. Generosity and hospitality towards the other are virtues imbued within our culture. Yet also imbued within my matriarchal lineage are the deep contemplative propensities of Mary. My mother and grandmothers have always been wise, intuitive and deeply spiritually inclined. However, they lived in a society that didn’t allow them to fully embrace Mary. They were expected to be Martha. This was even more the case growing up in a progressive, justice-oriented church environment. While there were many, many positives to an upbringing in such a community, I also observed the downsides; burnout, physical health issues as a direct consequence of stress, and the inevitable addiction to ‘busyness’ that one develops when one’s entire sense of self is tethered to how much they ‘give’.

In response to these downsides, and driven by a hunger for spiritual truth, I spent a great deal of time cultivating Mary within myself. In my early 20s, I moved abroad and spent eight years devoting myself to personal spiritual transformation, ‘sitting at the feet’ of various spiritual teachers and traditions outside of Christianity, exploring new age practices and spirituality, and addressing my own ‘shadow’ through psycho-somatic therapeutic modalities.

However, something I began to notice in many of the spiritual communities and teachings I took in was a hyper-individualistic and excessive capitalist orientation. In liberating oneself from the previous inner confines of lack and people-pleasing, the tendency became one of excess and self-indulgence. This was true in both new-age and Christian circles. Interestingly, since the pandemic, I have observed a curious phenomenon; mass ‘conversion’ of ‘spiritual but not religious’ seekers to Christianity. My social media feed is flooded with self-proclaimed ‘ex-new agers’ who have had transformative mystical experiences of being ‘saved’, but who are more concerned with the fate of the individual than any kind of communal justice in the world. This obsession with the individual ‘being saved’ and attaining material possessions through ‘God’s blessings’ (i.e. prosperity gospel), manifests as an exclusionary Christianity that denounces other spiritual traditions and blames the poor and oppressed for their own predicament. This is a kind of Christianity that puts walls up between people instead of building bridges, which I believe fundamentally goes against Jesus’ teachings. True mysticism builds bridges and helps one develop the virtues of love, compassion and justice within oneself so that it can be extended towards others. Looking inward can help us evaluate our own limiting contexts and positionalities more openly and honestly.

On the other hand, within the space of social justice work, I notice a tendency to ‘other’ the so-called ‘oppressor’. The oppressed vs. oppressor paradigm is used too readily in contexts where it doesn’t apply, creating unnecessary polarization. For one side to be ‘right’, the other has to be ‘wrong’, instead of recognizing that from within one’s own socio-economic context, one’s positionality would appear to be the ‘right’ one, but one cannot possibly see reality ‘as it is’. Thus, a willingness to look inward can help us locate nuance, self-reflect on our positionalities and biases, and be open to listening to others from within their contexts. It is not easy to acknowledge the spaces in oneself where there is unconscious racism, greed, and a propensity for violence, but it is necessary to create a more equitable and just world. By reflecting on these natural egoic propensities within the human psyche, I believe it brings us closer to God, and closer to our fellow human beings through common understanding.

Applications in Ecclesial Contexts

In my journey of ‘returning’ to the church and the Christian faith, I am motivated by the integration of both mystical practice and social justice. The church I currently work at does social justice well. From sponsoring refugee families to educating and providing opportunities to participate in Indigenous reconciliation initiatives, marching in the Pride parade, and bringing the community together to serve dinner to the homeless; justice work is genuine and meaningful, and continuously being expanded.

And, I see an opportunity for more contemplative practice to be embedded both within Sunday morning liturgy and social justice initiatives outside of Sunday worship. For instance, after a communal justice initiative, a spiritual ritual of coming together in contemplative practice and with the opportunity to reflect on what went well, and what needs to be emotionally and spiritually processed together could be a rich way to bring mystical spirituality to justice work.

Limitations and Critiques

Weaving together the many branches of mysticism and activism is a formidable task and one that cannot possibly be covered in full within the scope of this essay. An entire book could be written on this subject, alongside many more biblical references beyond the story of Mary and Martha. Examples of the integration of mystical spirituality and selfless service are abundant throughout the New Testament and present within Jesus’ basic commandments to ‘love God and love your neighbour as yourself’. Many other scripture passages could also be quoted towards this end, showing how Jesus’ earliest followers embodied such an intertwined spirituality (i.e. James 2:14-18, 1 John 3:16-18, etc.) Additionally, there are spiritual perspectives clearly missing from this essay including indigenous and interfaith perspectives. Mysticism transcends religious boundaries and exists within all the great spiritual traditions of the world, as does the basic notion that serving others and ethical action is an essential part of spiritual practice. For instance, in the Advaita Vedanta Hindu-Yogic tradition, ‘Karma Yoga’ (the vehicle of selfless service) is considered one of three major spiritual branches that lead towards union with the Godhead, and all yogis are expected to commit themselves to deep ethical formation via the yamas and niyamas. Likewise, the ‘engaged Buddhism’ of Mahayana Buddhists also reflect the intertwinement of an inward spiritual orientation and ethical activism.

In terms of practical applications, I have only begun to touch on these from my perspective. This could also be developed much further in terms of ethical recommendations and considerations for various social and ecclesial contexts. As such, I’ll reiterate that this essay is not exhaustive, but rather serves as a starting point for exploration.

Conclusion

Throughout this course [Christian Ethics in Context], I have been reflecting deeply on my ethical imperatives. In light of these reflections, I would define my core ethical commitment as follows; to surrender my personal will to God so that God’s will may be revealed in, and lived through me. I believe every human being is uniquely gifted and has a distinct role to play in God’s unfolding purpose for the world. By relinquishing our personal desires and ego-driven perspectives layer by layer, we can become God’s instruments for collective redemption, offering our gifts toward the flourishing of all life.

In my experience, this continuous surrender and commitment to being God’s agent in the world has not only given me a profound sense of purpose, but also fostered a lasting, inner joy. It is a happiness that transcends temporal gain or external achievements and is rooted in the deep fulfillment of serving others. Of course, I am far from perfect. Like everyone, I experience selfishness, doubt, and failure, and I do not always make the right choices, or know what the ‘right’ choices are. Yet, in striving to offer myself as both Mary and Martha, integrating contemplation with action, I find a deep and abiding pleasure for my soul, a satisfaction in knowing I am doing my best in each moment to honour the sanctity of all life.

Bibliography

Bovon, François and Helmut Koester. “Martha and Mary (10:38-42).” In Luke 2: A Commentary on the Gospel of Luke 9:51-19:27. Fortress Press, 2016.

Casaldáliga, Pedro and José-Maria Vigil. Political Holiness: A Spirituality of Liberation. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1994.

Ellis, E. Earle. The New Century Bible Commentary: The Gospel of Luke. Grand Rapids: WM. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1983.

Hawkins, David R. The Eye of the I: From Which Nothing is Hidden. Sedona: Veritas Publishing, 2001.

Hawkins, Susan. Life with “Doc”: My Husband & My Teacher, Dr. David R. Hawkins. Sedona: Veritas Publishing, 2022.

Meister Eckhart. The Essential Sermons, Commentaries, Treatises, and Defense. Translated by Edmund College and Bernard McGinn. Ramsey: Paulist Press, 1981.

Merton, Thomas. A Course in Christian Mysticism. Edited by Jon M. Sweeney. Kindle Edition. Collegeville, Minnesota: Liturgical Press, 2017.

Pinckaers, Servais. "The Patristic Period." In The Sources of Christian Ethics. Translated by Mary Thomas Noble. 3rd ed. Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America
Press, 1995.

Porete, Marguerite. The Mirror of Simple Souls. Translated by Ellen L. Babinksy. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1993.

Rigby, Paul. “Levinas and Christian Mysticism After Auschwitz.” Theological Studies 72 (2011): 309-334.

Soelle, Dorothee. The Silent Cry: Mysticism and Resistance. Translated by Barbara and Martin Rumsheidt. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001.

Tutu, Desmond. God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time. Narrated by Desmond Tutu. Maui Media, 2003. Audiobook. Accessed November 2024. Audible.

Weil, Simone. The Iliad or The Poem of Force. Wallingford: Pendle Hill, 1993.

Weil, Simone. Waiting On God. Translated by Routledge and Kegan Paul Limited. London: Fontana Books, 1950.

Using language inspired by Julian’s parable, “New Life” tells the theological story of a triune God, who, through the son Jesus Christ (one of the members of the trinity) descended into the ‘ditch’ where the rest of humanity has fallen. In the ditch, Jesus reminds us of who we truly are: creatures made in the image of God, helping us to reconcile our relationship with the divine.

Jesus’ incarnation, life, death and resurrection show us the path to transmute our pain and suffering into healing and spiritual transformation. Through the Holy Spirit, we are guided to follow in Christ’s footsteps, realizing our innate God-given capacity for ‘divinization’ as embodied reality, and allowing new life to be birthed from within us.

“New Life” by Hannah Rose Deacon, Performed Live at Emmanuel College Chapel, March 27, 2024

Lyrics:

V1.
When all the light is gone
And I can’t see your face
When my body starts to break
You are there
Reminding me who I am
You came down to show me
What it means to be made
By the creator

Chorus.
I can feel it
Your holy spirit
Breathing new life in me
Breathing new life
I can feel it
Your tender spirit
Breathing new life in me
New life

V2.
When all that’s left is hope
And I’m overcome by loneliness
I’ll cry out your name
And you’ll be there
You know me better than I know myself
You feel what I’m feeling
You show me how to turn my pain
Into healing

Interpretive Reflection on “New Life”

The following interpretive essay will break down the theological narrative of “New Life”, focusing on four specific theological doctrines: the Fall, Christology, Soteriology, and Eschatology, reflecting on their implications for contemporary living.

Warning: Because this was written for a Christian Theology course, some of the language used in this essay may be unfamiliar to some of you. I recommend an AI or online dictionary companion to explain any unfamiliar terms!

Theological Assumptions of “New Life”

While page limits did not allow for all theological references in “New Life” to be explored in depth, it is worth briefly noting the following assumptions:

(1) A Dialogic God-World Orientation.

I subscribe to the panentheistic God-worldview of both an immanent and transcendent God whose Being incorporates all of creation. “New Life”, however, is written from a personal relational viewpoint which most closely mirrors a dialogic God-worldview, which emphasizes an “I-Thou relation between God and the human being” (i.e. a personal relationship).

(2) A Mixed Trinitarian Model.

Jesus Christ as God ‘descending into the ditch’ and Jesus’s spirit as ‘the Holy Spirit’ is referenced in the lyrics of “New Life”, alluding to a triune understanding of the divine. The trinitarian model most closely expressed in “New Life” is the classical model of God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit (this directly from the Nicene Creed). As expressed by Elizabeth Johnson, however, I do acknowledge the problematic aspects of the classical model, which due to its processional nature unintentionally subordinates the Holy Spirit. While I believe Jesus Christ was begotten from the Father, and the Holy Spirit played a significant role after Jesus’ resurrection, evidence of the spirit as ‘God’s spirit’ in scripture is present from the earliest creation story (Genesis 1:1, 2:7). Thus, I believe that the three persons do not follow processional timelines and have always existed from before time. With this in mind, my understanding of the Trinity is more recently influenced by Jurgen Moltmann’s “Social Trinity” as well as the Eastern theological idea of Perichoresis, which “evokes a coinherence of the three divine persons, an encircling of each around the others.” According to Johnson, Moltmann’s “Social Trinity” is also “inclusive of the world with all its joy and pain”, a concept which aligns with the theology of Julian’s parable of the Lord and servant, and my personal convictions reflected in the lyrics of “New Life”.

The Fall

In Chapter LI of Revelations of Divine Love, Julian of Norwich reveals a vision about ‘the fall of man’ that challenges the classical doctrine of original sin. In this vision, Julian describes a servant (who represents Adam as all humanity), standing before his loving Lord (who represents God). The servant and the Lord share mutual affection and adoration for one another. The Lord asks the servant to retrieve a treasure, and the servant responds with utmost joy. In a rush to do his Lord’s bidding, the servant accidentally falls into a ditch and enters into a state of great pain and suffering. Although the Lord is looking on with great compassion, the servant is so consumed by pain that he forgets his Lord is near, assuming that he is abandoned.

This story is reflected in the lyrics of the first verse of “New Life”; “When all the light is gone, and I can’t see your face, when my body starts to break, you are there”. The lyrics speak to the knowledge of God’s unconditional love being forever present, even when we cannot see or feel it.

In Julian’s vision, it is also revealed that Adam’s fall is by no fault of his own, and there is no blame from God, only love and compassion. Sin is thus interpreted as ‘great pain and suffering’, rather than something humanity should be blamed for. According to Julian of Norwich, God’s compassion for humanity’s pain is so great that through the figure of Jesus Christ, God “descended down with Adam into hell” keeping Adam “from endless death”. Christ is described as ‘one’d’ with humanity, thus the remainder of verse one in “New Life” is as follows; “You came down to show me, what it means to be made by the creator”, which also alludes to a soteriological understanding of ‘Divinization’.

Christology

Julian’s understanding of Christ descending into the ditch with us and being ‘one’d’ with fallen humanity tells us something about the person of Jesus Christ. In line with classical notions of Christology (such as the views popularized by the early church father Athanasius), and as delineated in the Nicene Creed, Jesus Christ is both human and divine. While the divinity of Christ is evident in Julian’s parable as the Lord ‘descending through Christ’, Julian’s parable also makes clear that Christ’s humanity means he is united with us in our suffering.

According to James Cone, our understanding of Jesus in the historical context of the first century means he is not docetic, an idea that was propagated by the early Christian gnostics who believed Jesus’ body was an illusion and thus was divine only. According to Cone, this means that from the perspective of oppressed blacks, Jesus becomes one of them. Christ takes “their suffering as his suffering… revealing that he is found in the history of our struggle, the story of our pain, and the rhythm of our bodies.” While I am not African American, I resonate with Cone’s sentiments of a God who struggles with us. Jesus is a man who, as the lyrics of “New Life” says in the second verse, “feels what I’m feeling”, and “shows me how to turn my pain into healing”. Thus, we can call on Jesus’ Spirit of humanity/divinity to aid us in coping with trauma, loss, and grief, helping us through our healing processes no matter the situation.

Soteriology

“New Life” primarily touches on the Divinization model of atonement, although elements of the Moral Exemplar model of atonement are also present within the song.

According to Athanasius, human beings are made divine through Jesus Christ's incarnation as ‘The Word’ in “a body capable of death”. Christ’s death on the cross was “an act of pure love for humanity, so that by all dying in him the law concerning the corruption of humanity might be abolished”. Athanasius also states that a Christological understanding of Christ as both human and divine, and a Soteriology of Divinization are inextricably linked; “if the works of the divinity of the Word had not taken place through a body, humanity would not have been made divine.” In the Moral Exemplar model of atonement, Jesus’ life and ministry serve as a guidepost for right living, eliciting “a particular transformative response in individuals that encounter it.”

Both atonement models are evident in the chorus lyrics of “New Life”. Christ’s Holy Spirit can be felt “breathing new life” in the suffering individual, who has emptied themselves to make space for the transformative power of the Holy Spirit to divinize the human soul and show the soul how to live as Christ lived. In my personal systematic theology, Christ’s death and resurrection become a symbol for the human soul to be spiritually purified, shedding a layer of ego (ie. ego death), and becoming ‘reborn’ into her next level of spiritual growth and evolution.

Eschatology

While there are elements of Augustine’s vision of a joyous heavenly realm as expressed in “The Eternal Happiness of the Saints” that I do align with theologically, the song “New Life” does not focus on such an eschatology illustrated after bodily death. Instead, “New Life” most closely aligns with Shelly Rambo’s notion of an afterlife as the ‘aftermath’ of loss, tragedy, and trauma in the here and now. It is my view that one need not wait until after death, or for Christ’s second coming to experience new life. Throughout our lifetime we will experience many ‘ego deaths’ and subsequent rebirths. Such notions are beliefs I’ve carried with me both from my previous studies of Eastern traditions (Tibetan Buddhism and Yoga Philosophy), as well as personal experience.

It is also my long-held belief that through the healing power of aesthetics (beauty), as acknowledged by Shelly Rambo, one can truly live into an embodied theology of transformation that changes one at the very core of being. Serving as powerful channels for an immanent and transcendent God, art forms such as music, visual arts and poetry exercise “different muscles, strengthening heart and head for the work of transformation.” “New Life” uses such notions of aesthetics to offer a theology of transformation through music, designed to evoke an emotional response that liberates the body from dormant emotions and makes space for inspiration and new possibilities to flourish.

Both lyrics and melody signify that new life can be found when we allow the healing power of Christ’s loving spirit to work through us in the here and now, inspiring positive change individually and communally, and serving to revive us from life ‘in the ditch’.

Final Thoughts

As Julian’s parable suggests, we live in a world that we perceive to be as fuelled by pain and suffering. What if we were to remember once more that we are all beloved creatures made in the image of the divine? What if this knowing was not just intellectual, but a lived way of being? I am convinced that an experiential embodied reality of the divine is what is needed to transform many of the global challenges we face today. “New Life” speaks to such a reality.

Bibliography

Athanasius, “5.4 Athanasius on the Death of Christ.” In The Christian Theology Reader. 2nd ed, edited by Alister E. McGrath, 331-332. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishers, 2001.

Athanasius, “5.5 Athanasius on the Relation of Christology and Soteriology.” In The Christian Theology Reader. 2nd ed, edited by Alister E. McGrath, 332-333. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishers, 2001.

Augustine, “3. Augustine: The Eternal Happiness of the Saints”. In Readings in Christian Theology, edited by Peter C. Hodgson and Robert H. King, 329-333. Minneapolis, USA: Fortress Press, 1985.

Cone, James H. “Chapter 6: Who is Jesus Christ for Us Today?” In God of the Oppressed. Rev. ed, 122-149. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2008.

Crisp, Oliver D. “Moral Exemplarism and Atonement.” Scottish Journal of Theology 73, no. 2 (2020): 137–149. Accessed March 30, 2024, https://doi.org/10.1017/S0036930620000265.

Johnson, Elizabeth A. She Who Is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse. New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 2017.

McFague, Sallie. In Essentials of Christian Theology, edited by William C. Placher, 101-116.Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003.

Of Norwich, Julian. Revelations of Divine Love. Translated by Grace Warrack. Grand Rapids, MI: Christian Classic Ethereal Library, 1901.

Rambo, Shelly. “Salvation in the After-Living: Reflections on Salvation with Joshua Ralston and Sharon Betcher”. In Comparing Faithfully: Insights for Systematic Theological Reflection, edited by Michelle Voss Roberts, 296-316. New York, NY: Fordham University Press, 2016.

Basic Abstract: This is a pretty detailed, technical research paper that explores the inner ‘parts’ of the psyche according to two prominent theories or ‘models of the mind’ (Internal Family Systems primarily with support from Jungian Theory) - and how understanding and working with these parts of ourselves can aid us along our spiritual journey. There are a lot of technical psychotherapeutic terms in this essay - all of which may interest some of you, but be-warned it may put others of you to sleep! Final Caveat: I use ‘Christ’s Commandments’ to frame the spiritual journey - but this idea applies to all spiritual pathways.

Arguably, one of the most well-known Christian biblical teachings can be found in Matthew 22:34-39. In this passage, a Jewish Pharisee asks Jesus which of the Ten Commandments is the greatest. Jesus replies; “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” He follows this primary commandment with another, to “love your neighbour as yourself.” (Matthew 22:34-39, NRSV). These two commandments are still considered to be primary for Christians today. Yet, while they seem simple in theory, many struggle to live up to them. Thus, we are left with the following question: “How?”

In the twenty-first century, where mental illness is the leading cause of disability in Canada, another question must be considered: “How can I love my neighbour as myself if I don’t love myself?” Can we truly love God and love our neighbours, if we do not, at our deepest core, love ourselves? And further, how can we begin to love ourselves if we do not know who we really are?

Some spiritual seekers have sought to answer these questions by turning to Eastern traditions and practices such as mindfulness meditation techniques from various Buddhist schools and yogic Hindu schools, all of which focus inwardly. Others who are drawn to the teachings of Jesus Christ have attempted to dive deeper into Christianity, discovering the richness of Christian mysticism that focuses inwardly on God’s immanence within the human soul. Writings from medieval mystical theologians such as Meister Eckhart, Julian of Norwich and Teresa of Avila offer profound insights into the nature of the soul, delineating paths to transcending sin and suffering, and experiencing inner union with God. Yet, translating these mystical teachings into changed behaviours and patterns of behaviour in the twenty-first century can be challenging, particularly when individuals are contending with dysregulated nervous systems and repressed trauma. Additionally, systemic issues compound these challenges, leaving many spiritual seekers feeling demoralized when they fall short of living up to the values they expect of themselves. Where does that leave us?

The following essay posits that the ‘missing piece’ for spiritual seekers who aspire to live by Jesus’ teachings can be found in psychotherapeutic work. This paper will draw specifically on the contemporary psychotherapeutic theory of Internal Family Systems, with references to other related theories such as Jungian psychoanalytic theory, demonstrating how when put into practice, these theories can propel spiritual seekers towards a greater love of God and neighbour - the ultimate goal of salvation from a Christian perspective.

Internal Family Systems: A Contemporary Theory with Spiritual Roots

Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy is a contemporary psychotherapeutic theory, developed by Richard Schwartz in the 1980s. It integrates elements of family systems theory, psychodynamic theory, mindfulness-based modalities, and is rooted in spiritual concepts of human nature. The goal of IFS is to help patients “begin to relate to themselves differently - to love themselves.”

At its core, IFS posits that the psyche consists of multiple ‘subpersonalities’, each with their respective thoughts, feelings, and motivations. These subpersonalities, which Schwartz refers to as ‘parts’, can be thought of as members of an internal family, with either functional or dysfunctional ‘polarizing’ dynamics playing out between one another. These parts can be categorized into universal groups (much like Jung’s notion of universal archetypes), that incorporate ‘protector’ parts (what Schwartz calls ‘Managers and ‘Firefighters’), and ‘exiled’ parts (what Schwartz calls ‘Exiles’).

Beyond these parts lies the essence of the human being or ‘the seat of consciousness’, what Schwartz refers to as “The Self”, which is inherently peaceful and accepting in nature. Due to the dominance of the other parts, however, the Self is often unreachable by the individual in waking life. Schwartz proposes that by working with various polarized parts of the psyche, one begins to ‘integrate’ them, allowing the Self to guide the individual towards self-love and acceptance. By restoring the Self to its rightful role in the system as leader, the various parts that were previously dominant take a back seat, creating a supportive internal environment conducive to healing and spiritual growth.

Whilst many of the concepts in IFS, particularly that of the “Self” have spiritual roots, IFS therapy is ideal for any patient who is “in various states of judgement about themselves and others.” Schwartz describes many of his clients as being overly critical of themselves and frustrated that they cannot control symptoms such as depression, anxiety, or addictive patterns. Others find themselves highly reactive or easily triggered by the people they interact with on a day-to-day basis. The fact that they feel powerless in being able to curb these internal responses compounds their frustration, adding to a sense of being “at war” within themselves.

IFS therapy is designed “to reverse these binds of inner and outer polarization and judgement” through inner focus and dialogue between parts - what Schwartz calls ‘parts work’. Clients learn that the parts of themselves “they have hated or feared actually have been trying to protect them and are often frozen in time during earlier traumas or attachment injuries.” By viewing these parts of themselves with acceptance and compassion, clients are able to achieve an inner sense of peace, and are less likely to project ‘exiled’ parts onto others.

This brings up another important emphasis of IFS in contrast to other psychotherapeutic theories like CBT: that of focusing primarily on the goal of acceptance over the goal of ‘change’. Schwartz points to the large body of research from Jon Kabat-Zinn’s mindfulness-based stress reduction (MSBR), Marsha Linehan’s dialectical behaviour therapy (DBT), and Steven Hayes’ acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT) as evidence for how an emphasis on acceptance rather than change can enhance the effectiveness of therapy. Put simply, by removing the psychological barriers to change (ie. non-acceptance which creates resistance), one is able to paradoxically create change more rapidly, by accepting what was previously unacceptable, and thus making space for transformation to occur.

Multiplicity of the Mind - Understanding the ‘parts’ of psyche

There is a large body of evidence that supports the idea of ‘subpersonalities’ within the mind, beginning in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The unity (or non-unity) of the personality, however, had already been considered centuries earlier by the patristic father St. Augustine in his Confessions, a highly influential work within Christian literature. In this work, St. Augustine compares his “old pagan personality” which would show up in his dreams, to that of his ‘post-conversion personality’ in waking life.

In the nineteenth century, the case for multiplicity became evident through the documentation of multiple personality disorder (now referred to as dissociative identity disorder) in patients. These initial cases often portrayed dual personalities that had taken control of the conscious mind, with the assumption that the mind contained dual parts. It was discovered by the French hypnotists, however, that the mind could split itself into three or more personalities. The human mind was hence described as “a matrix from which whole sets of subpersonalities could emerge and differentiate themselves”. This phenomenon later came to be known as “Polypsychism”, a term attributed to hypnotist Durand de Gros. De Gros claimed that “the human organism consisted of anatomical segments, each of which had a psychic ego of its own, and all of them subjected to a general ego, the Ego-in-Chief, which was our usual consciousness.” The Ego-in-Chief was considered to be the conscious mind, while each of the subpersonalities “constituted our unconscious life”. Each part of the psyche was understood to be playing a role within “a complex system of interpersonal relationships”, much like an internal family.

Carl Jung took this notion further, expanding his theory of the unconscious mind to incorporate what he first referred to as ‘complexes’, and later: ‘archetypes’. Archetypes are considered to be universal symbols stemming from the collective unconscious. Jung saw the conscious ego as being at a junction between the external and interior worlds. Surrounding the ego are the archetypal subpersonalities: whose relationship to the ego shifts throughout one’s life. These subpersonalities include the archetypes of the persona, the shadow, the anima or animus, the spirit, and the self. The goal of Jung’s analytic psychology is to support patients in the process of ‘Individuation’; the unification of the personality. According to Jung, when individuation is achieved, “the ego is no longer the center of the personality but is like a planet revolving around an invisible sun, the Self.”

Thus, we arrive once again at Schwartz’s IFS model and his contemporary notion of ‘parts’, which borrows the archetype of the Self from Jung. Schwartz references several schools of psychotherapeutic theories that discuss the multiplicity of the mind, including Jung’s archetypal theories, as well as trauma theory research surrounding dissociative identity disorder (DID). DID research postulates subpersonalities as fragments of a unitary personality split off from the central personality due to trauma. Thus, from this perspective, multiplicity is seen as a “sign of pathology”, whereas in alignment with Jung’s notion of archetypes, IFS “sees all parts as innately valuable components of a healthy mind.” From the perspective of IFS, trauma does not ‘create’ these parts per se, but rather forces them into ‘extreme’ roles they are not designed to take on through polarization, causing them to lose trust in the leadership of the Self.
Let us now delineate Schwartz’s definition of each of the parts: Exiles, Managers, Firefighters, and the Self in greater detail.

Exiles

Exiles, also called ‘injured parts’, are considered to be the most sensitive and vulnerable parts of the system, generally related to trauma and attachment injuries. When nurtured into their healthy form, these parts of ourselves embody softness, trust, playfulness and openness. They are an important part of the inner system that lends to a sense of wholeness. They are also the parts of ourselves that take on hurt, store traumatic memories and incidents, and embody feelings of worthlessness and loneliness. Because of the painful feelings associated with exiles, they are often buried deep within the unconscious mind by other parts. The protector parts of the system (managers and firefighters) fear them arising in the conscious mind, and thus they will work overtime to keep them buried, protecting a person’s inner system from having to experience any of the exile’s thoughts, beliefs or emotions. While this strategy may work short-term, it almost always causes havoc within the internal system later. Exiles also tend to be the part of the unconscious that is projected onto others (similar to Jung’s ‘Shadow’ archetype).

Managers

Managers, also referred to as ‘protector parts’are the most conscious part of the psyche, and according to Schwartz tend to be the part of ourselves that we know best, similar to Jung’s ‘Persona’ archetype. They are responsible for overseeing the day-to-day aspects of one’s life. In contrast to ‘firefighters’ which are reactive, managers are proactive. They maintain balance and homeostasis within the psyche by exerting control over various aspects of the individual's world. They are highly susceptible to societal conditioning, evaluating self and others in accordance. Because this is the part of the psyche that individuals tend to experience through and project outwardly as a type of ‘mask’, some psychotherapists refer to this part as the ‘false self’. Managers can act out a variety of roles, such as controllers, strivers, caretakers, pleasers, judges, critics, passive pessimists, and planners. When operating in balance, managers assist individuals in navigating their lives effectively, reminding them to fulfill day-to-day responsibilities, strive towards healthy achievement, and maintain connected relationships. When managers become polarized out of a need to keep exiles at bay, they tend to promote fear-based decision-making aimed at mitigating risk. This can lead to a myriad of unhelpful behaviours, such as becoming highly critical of self and others, over-obsessive or controlling. The underlying fear driving these behaviours is the belief that loss of control will lead to negative consequences.

Firefighters

Firefighters, also called ‘reactive parts’, arise when a painful emotion associated with an exiled part threatens homeostasis within the system and is beyond the manager's ability to control. Firefighter actions can tend towards self-soothing or distraction, including addictive behaviours and compulsions. They are often desperate, aimed at ‘fixing’ an uncomfortable inner state and acting impulsively to distract the system through chaotic responses or sensory pleasure. When in their healthy expression, firefighters can bring liveliness, spontaneity and pleasure to the human experience. When polarized, these parts within the self can develop unhelpful habits and behaviours including various levels of addictions, dissociation, rage, violent outbursts, and/or self-harm.

The Self

As previously mentioned, Schwartz’s concept of the Self is borrowed from Jung’s “Self” archetype and rooted in the esoteric schools of the world’s traditions. For Jung, the Self was the most important of all the archetypes. Likened to the Buddhist concept of no self, the Self was seen by Jung to be an ‘unknown’ at the centre of personality: “Intellectually the Self is no more than a psychological concept, a construct that serves to express an unknowable essence which  we cannot grasp as such, since by definition it transcends our powers of comprehension. It might equally well be called the "God within us."

Similarly, Schwartz describes the Self as the ‘seat of consciousness’, and the “magnificent essence” of the human person. The markers of Self according to IFS are what is termed ‘the eight C’s’: “curiosity, calm, clarity, connectedness, confidence, courage, creativity, and compassion”. In Schwartz’s Introduction to Internal Family Systems, the Self is described in mystical terms, referencing the idea of “Buddha nature”, the Hindu “Atman of the Self”, and German mystic Meister Eckhart’s “Godseed”.

To expand this concept further from a Christian perspective, the Self might be likened to the spiritual Soul, as defined by mystics such as Julian of Norwich and Teresa of Avila. (Note that this differs from classical theologians' definition of the rational soul, which incorporates the intellect). In Revelations of Divine Love, Julian of Norwich describes the soul as “God’s dwelling-place”. Twentieth-century Christian scholar Thomas Merton, who is quoted in Schwartz’s Introduction to Internal Family Systems said:

“If we enter into ourselves, finding our true self, and then passing “beyond” the inner “I,” we sail forth into the immense darkness in which we confront the “I am” of the Almighty. Our inmost “I” exists in God and God swells in it. Hence the Christian mystical experience is not only an awareness of the inner self, but also it is an experiential grasp of God as present within our inner self.”

Empirical Evidence for IFS

The effectiveness of Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy is supported by empirical evidence from various studies and sources. Based on studies conducted thus far, IFS therapy has been proven to effectively reduce symptoms of depression, anxiety, and trauma-related disorders, with particular efficacy noted in treating post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) compared to traditional talk therapy. A pilot study conducted at the Trauma Center, Justice Research Institute in Brookline, MA, USA in particular, showed significantly positive effects of IFS therapy on adults with PTSD and histories of childhood trauma. There was a notable reduction in symptoms and improved functioning observed. Moreover, IFS therapy was recognized in 2015 as an evidence-based practice by the National Registry for Evidence-based Programs and Practices (NREPP) - a repository maintained by the U.S. government’s Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA). This recognition is based on rigorous evaluation criteria, including randomized clinical trials (RCTs).

Spiritually-Integrated Psychotherapeutic Interventions

As previously mentioned, the primary intervention in IFS is that of ‘parts-work’. The role of the therapist is to empower the client to identify the various parts within their psyche and assist them in “establishing the Self as the leader in the client’s inner system.” IFS maintains that the therapist must themselves be aware of their inner parts, moving ‘out of the way’ and leading from the Self to “facilitate internally the kinds of compassionate dialogue between family members that Family Systems theory works toward externally.” This is done by re-directing the client’s attention to inner thoughts, feelings and physical sensations.

Differing from Jung’s approach, the therapist does not project “readymade archetypal selves” onto the client, nor do they attempt to forcibly “integrate the self into a unified state”.  A foundational assumption in IFS is that clients possess their own inner resources for healing. Thus, the therapist allows the client to lead the process, deciding for themselves what the ‘Self’ at the helm of the internal system looks and feels like.

IFS maintains that by working with each of these parts with acceptance and compassion, polarization between parts will be neutralized, and trust in the Self’s leadership will be restored. Thus, managers, firefighters and exiles return to a healthy state of functioning.

Fictional Case Study

We will now use a fictional example to illustrate how psychotherapeutic intervention rooted in IFS and utilizing a spiritually-integrated approach might occur. For this example, we will consider the client to be a woman named Anya. Anya is in her mid-30s and is married with a young child. She is a practicing Christian who is open and tolerant of other religious views and spiritual practices. She is ambitious and driven and keeps herself busy with motherhood, work, and a variety of activities. Lately, however, she finds herself experiencing mood swings, oscillating from depression to irritation. She finds herself easily triggered by her husband, her child, and close family members, manifesting as reactive outbursts. She feels constantly drained of energy. She feels overly responsible and constantly giving of herself. At the same time, she feels frustrated with her inability to curb her reactions. She is judging her abilities as a mother and feels judged and disconnected from God.

In this example already, several ‘parts’ within Anya’s internal family system have been illustrated. There is a ‘part’ of Anya that is ambitious and driven and likes to keep busy, which represents her manager part. There is another manager part that tends to over-give until her cup is empty. There are exiled parts of her that are characterized by depressive feelings, which her managers and firefighters attempt to keep at bay. The firefighter parts manifest as reactive outbursts. Her desire to connect with God can be likened to the desire to connect to the Self, but it is buried underneath the other parts.

An IFS therapist will begin therapy by first asking questions that guide Anya to focus on her internal experience of the various parts within her. Through this process, Anya might explore the ambitious parts, the depressed parts, the overly-giving parts, and the irritated parts of her psyche. The IFS therapist might explore how Anya is judging these various parts, working towards compassion and acceptance.

In further sessions, the IFS therapist might then guide Anya towards exploring how her managers (ie. the ambitious and overly responsible parts), and the firefighters (irritable parts) are protecting her from exiles (the depressed parts). While Anya might be tempted to think that this makes the firefighters and managers ‘bad parts’, the IFS therapist will reinforce that they are helpful and necessary parts of the psyche, particularly when in their healthy expression. The fact that they are polarized and ‘acting out’ simply means they are trying to protect Anya. Through continued acceptance, these parts might back down enough for Anya to explore the exiles, allowing these aspects to arise from the unconscious to the conscious mind through continued questioning and meditative exploration guided by the therapist.

The IFS therapist may also give Anya specific meditation practices and exercises to try on her own between sessions. These practices, created by IFS founder Richard Schwartz, will help Anya become more aware of the parts within her. As a spiritually-integrated practitioner, the therapist will help Anya connect with implicit and explicit spiritual resources, and also help her align IFS exercises with her own spiritual practices. She may ask Anya what helps her feel most connected to God (which the practitioner uses in place of the Self-concept to align with the client’s religious beliefs). Based on Anya’s response, the therapist will then encourage Anya to engage in these activities. Anya may choose to make space in her daily life for a solo practice of prayer and contemplation, take regular walks outside, or meet with friends more often, as an example. Anya might integrate IFS-specific meditative techniques with her personal spiritual practices.

Over time, the IFS therapist will facilitate Anya’s uncovering of exiles and the release of attachment injuries and traumas. By looking at these parts gently, and with compassion, Anya begins to integrate them in her psyche. Her managers and firefighters, while still there, can now take a back seat to the Self. Through this work, along with a re-emphasis on the integration of her spiritual practices, Anya begins to feel a connection with God once again. With this growing sense of love for herself and connection to God, she becomes less irritable and more tolerant and loving of those around her.

As we can see with the fictional example of Anya, Internal Family Systems can significantly help Christians grow spiritually in their love of self, God and others. The relationships we maintain between various aspects of our internal family often dictate the relationships we are able to maintain externally. Thus, when we harmonize the parts within ourselves and neutralize ‘polarization’ between parts, the Self takes charge once again, offering the individual a stable base from which spiritual values can be lived and practiced effectively.

Final Thoughts

In The Interior Castle, the famous mystical work by sixteenth-century Carmelite nun St. Teresa of Avila, the soul is described as a brilliant diamond-like castle that contains many rooms. At its core resides the immanent God, who produces a brilliant light that shines outwardly. The further inside the structure of the soul one travels, the closer one gets to a mystical spiritual marriage between the human soul and God. When the soul is submerged in ‘sin’, however, the soul is encrusted with mud, so that light cannot get through.

This image offers a visual for how one might consider our polarized parts in comparison to the Self. The polarized parts can be likened to the mud that encrusts our magnificent soul essence with “calcified emotions and beliefs”. As we begin to examine our parts with acceptance and integrate them within the psyche, the mud washes away, and the Godself buried deep within the soul gains a foothold in our consciousness. With God’s love now felt, we begin to embody the commandments of Christ, paving the way towards salvation.

Bibliography

“About IFS (Internal Family Systems),” Foundation for Self Leadership, 2013-2023,  https://www.foundationifs.org/about/about-ifs.

Ellenberger, Henri, F. The Discovery of the Unconscious: The History and Evolution of Dynamic Psychiatry. USA: Perseus Books Group, 1970.

“Empirical Evidence.” Foundation for Self Leadership. Accessed April 12, 2024. https://www.foundationifs.org/research/empirical-evidence

Foundation for Self Leadership, “About IFS (Internal Family Systems.” Foundation for Self Leadership, 2013-2023, https://www.foundationifs.org/about/about-ifs.

Janes, E.E., Trevino, Z.R., Koehl, H. et al. “Internal Family Systems and Spirituality: Implications for Supervision.” Contemporary Family Therapy 45 (2023): 218–227. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10591-021-09625-2

Johnson, Rick. Spirituality in Counselling and Psychotherapy: An Integrative Approach that Empowers Clients. USA: Wiley, 2013.

Julian of Norwich. Revelations of Divine Love. Translated by Grace Warrack. Grand Rapids, MI: Christian Classic Ethereal Library, 1901.

Kalsched, Donald. The Inner World of Trauma: Archetypal Defenses of the Personal Spirit. Routledge, 1996.

Kennel, Maxwell. “Religious Studies and Internal Family Systems Therapy.” Implicit Religion 23, no. 3 (2020): 293-304. https://doi.org/10.1558/imre.41249.

Schwartz, Richard C. Introduction to Internal Family Systems. Boulder, Colorado, USA: Sounds True, 2023.

Schwartz, Richard C. “Moving From Acceptance Toward Transformation With Internal Family Systems Therapy (IFS).” Journal of Clinical Psychology: In Session 69, no. 8 (2013): 805-816 .https://doi.org/10.1002/jclp.22016

St. Teresa of Avila. Interior Castle. Edited and Translated by E. Allison Peers. Garden City, New York: Dover Publications, 1946. Sykes, Cece, Martha Sweezy, and Richard C. Schwartz. Internal Family Systems Therapy for Addictions: Trauma-Informed, Compassion-Based Interventions for Substance Use, Eating, Gambling and More. USA: PESI Publishing, 2003.

“The Crisis Is Real.” CAMH, 2024. https://www.camh.ca/en/driving-change/the-crisis-is-real

Given the plethora of writings by Christian mystics through the ages, why has The Interior Castle made such a dent in history?

According to Thomas Merton, timing is partially responsible. Spanish mystics like St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross wrote their works during ‘the golden age’ of Spanish mysticism; a time of “official reform, unity, centralization, authority, strict control, national expansion, and prosperity.” (Merton, 161).

Merton also comments on the likeability of Teresa’s personality, who was said to be humorous and frank with a “good sense”. Then there is the fact that Teresa of Avila, unlike many mystics before her, was regarded as an authoritative figure within the Carmelite monastic school and wider Catholic community. Rather than be deemed a heretic for her mystical experiences, her written works were held in high esteem and widely circulated at the behest of those in positions of religious power and authority (although these works would not be accessed by laypeople until much later).

Perhaps the greatest reason for the sheer influence of The Interior Castle, however, lies in its simplicity and accessibility.

It is said to be the most organized of all of St. Teresa’s written works, unified by the simple yet profound metaphoric imagery of the human soul as a magnificent crystal castle. Within this castle lie chambers above, below, and on each side. At the very centre lies the jewel of the castle: the “principal chamber in which God and the soul hold their most secret intercourse.” The chambers can be grouped into seven distinct mansions, each demarcating a stage of the soul’s evolution. This metaphoric imagery as described in Chapter One is said to be a vision gifted to Teresa from God. The rest of the manuscript expands on each mansion.

For this text study, we will expand further on excerpts from Teresa’s introduction of her vision in Chapter One.

“If we reflect, sisters, we shall see that the soul of the just man is but a paradise, in which, God tells us, He takes His delight. What, do you imagine, must that dwelling be in which a King so mighty, so wise, and so pure, containing in Himself all good, can delight to rest? Nothing can be compared to the great beauty and capabilities of a soul; however keen our intellects may be, they are as unable to comprehend them as to comprehend God, for, as He has told us, He created us in His own image and likeness.”

It is rather astounding that in the sixteenth century when predominant religious language focused on the sinfulness of man, the soul of the human should be considered beautiful and worthy of housing God.

Yet as difficult as this may be for the mind to comprehend, this is the truth that St. Teresa wants her fellow Carmelite sisters to live by. She acknowledges that the intellectual mind cannot comprehend such truth and that the intellect pales in comparison to the divine magnificence and beauty of the human soul, in which God “takes his delight”. Yet, she later goes on to say that the consciousness of most human beings is trapped outside of this exquisite castle, “in the courtyard of the building where the sentinels stand…”

According to St. Teresa, this is one of the misfortunes of humanity, who “through our own fault…neither understand our nature nor our origin”. We are creatures made in the image and likeness of God, yet we are blatantly ignorant of this truth. Teresa encourages her Carmelite sisters to overcome such ignorance through the primary methods of prayer and contemplation, focusing on the beauty and magnificence of the human soul, aided by the grace of God.

“Now let us return to our beautiful and charming castle and discover how to enter it. This appears incongruous: if this castle is the soul, clearly no one can have to enter it, for it is the person himself: one might as well tell someone to go into a room he is already in! There are, however, very different ways of being in this castle; many souls live in the courtyard of the building where the sentinels stand, neither caring to enter farther, nor to know who dwells in that most delightful place, what is in it and what rooms it contains.”

While the soul as a crystal castle is a universal picture that is simple and accessible enough for the intellect to grasp, St. Teresa acknowledges the limitations of language. Who then is the person who ‘enters’ the soul if the soul is within itself? We might use the word ‘consciousness’ to better describe such a notion.

Consider that each human being perceives reality from a certain ‘vantage’ point; the place in which the consciousness resides. Most of us perceive reality from the exterior chambers of the soul, where we are easily distracted by egoic pursuits and the trials and tribulations of everyday life. In postmodern times, we may say this manifests in a multitude of ways, such as an obsession with bodily desires, petty family dramas, addictions to various substances, or the drive for worldly success and power in a consumerist society that dominates our experience and keeps us mentally enslaved. Most people live their lives based on the conditioning of their childhood and the programming inherited from their collective environment, never pausing to question whether another reality exists.

Yet, The Interior Castle tells us there is another way to live. Our consciousness can move inward through the various chambers of the soul, offering different vantage points from which reality can be perceived.

What if, instead of being coloured by fear, our reality was perceived through a lens of pure love?

What if, instead of our actions being propelled by an inner sense of guilt and inadequacy, our way of being in the world was propelled by a deep knowing of God’s love for us and all others, because our true nature is crafted in the image and likeness of God?

What if we went about our lives with the awareness of our consciousness inextricably ‘unified’ with the consciousness of all creation? How would we treat ourselves, our ‘neighbours’, and our fellow species in creation differently?

Teresa of Avila points to this unified experiential reality as the ‘true reality’.

When we stand at the exterior, outside the chambers of the castle, we do not see reality as it is. Thus, according to Teresa’s methods, the mystic must double down on prayer, contemplation, and good works, asking God to assist us in entering and exploring the mysterious divine house that exists at the core of our very being.

Only then, might we gain a glimpse into what God sees.

Bibliography:

Merton, Thomas. A Course in Christian Mysticism. Edited by Jon M. Sweeney. Kindle Edition. Collegeville, Minnesota: Liturgical Press, 2017.

St. Teresa of Avila. Interior Castle. Edited and Translated by E. Allison Peers. Garden City, New York: Dover Publications, 1946.

Teresa of Avila. The Interior Castle. Translated by Benedict Zimmerman. Charles River Editors, 2018.

Tune into this quick 5-minute introduction of The Interior…

Read more

In the following essay, written for a course titled “Eros & Spirituality” taken at Emmanuel College in Toronto, Winter 2024 - we will explore the patterns of love’s growth, primarily through the lens of Marguerite Porete, a 13th-century Christian beguine clergeresse.

Exploring an original song crafted to lyrically and musically map Porete’s ‘seven stages of the pious soul’, we will explore the mystical ascent of eros towards annihilating divine love. 

The Evolution of Eros: From Platonic Philosophy to Mystical Theology

Centuries before the birth of Jesus Christ and the advent of Christianity, eros was mythologized in Ancient Greece as one of many great gods, associated with passionate love and sexual desire. Plato, 76.) With the emergence of platonic schools of philosophy, the concept of eros shifted to represent a ladder of divine ascent, where the philosopher moves from experiencing eros in its base form of lust, through various stages, until they merge with “pure, unadulterated beauty, which shines forth from all creation.” (Athanasiadis, 1).

This platonic view of eros had a profound influence on subsequent philosophical traditions and Christian theological thought. Popularized by the Neoplatonic philosopher and Christian theologian Pseudo-Dionysius in the sixth century, eros became a cosmic force guiding the mystic towards union with God. This idea of a mystical union gained strength into the Middle Ages, influencing the 13th-century Beguine movement - religious communities made up of lay women who voluntarily took vows of chastity, poverty and service without taking monastic vows. This was a fruitful time for Christian mystical spirituality, with Beguine teachers such as Mechthild of Magdeburg and Marguerite Porete writing influential works instructing their fellow Beguines on how to walk the mystical path towards divine union.

Marguerite Porete’s Mirror of Simple Souls

A key distinction between Porete’s work and that of other Beguine mystics is Porete’s use of apophatic theology, which emphasizes God’s unknowability, thereby referencing God through negation (what God is not). This is in juxtaposition to kataphatic or affirmative theology, which emphasizes what God is (ie. God is love).

Another distinction of Porete’s work is that it contains a complete seven-stage path that takes the soul beyond the state of union described by her contemporaries, leading the soul to “return to their primordial oneness with God” through the complete relinquishment of the personal will. (Holmes, 132). The end goal isn’t to become a ‘bride of Christ’ (the common terminology used by other beguine women and later mystics such as Teresa of Avila), but complete annihilation and dissolution of the self, thereby removing any separation from God.

Still yet another, and more tragic distinction between Marguerite Porete and her contemporaries can be found in the story of her life.

Born in Hainault, a French-speaking province between France and Belgium, Porete was a master of contemplative practice and theological reflection, dedicated to her teaching vocation. Porete wrote The Mirror of Simple Souls out of love for her fellow Beguines, guided by Lady Love (the name she gives God), alongside the two other characters in her book: Reason and The Soul, all of whom have female personifications. Such notions drew the unwelcome attention of the church.

While Marguerite was not the first woman to teach an advanced mystical theology that emphasized union with God, she was an unsupervised woman without the backing of any male religious figures. (This is unlike Mechthild of Magdeburg, another beguine woman who had the permission and support of her male Dominican Confessor to write about her experiences.)

Ultimately, after several tumultuous years that resulted in Porete’s book being burned and her being thrown into prison, Porete was deemed a heretic and burned at the stake in Paris in 1310.

Despite the medieval church’s attempt at silencing Porete, copies of her book The Mirror of Simple Souls continued to circulate after her death, influencing mystical theologians such as Meister Eckhart.

“Only Love Remains”: Creative Exploration of Porete’s “Seven Stages of the Pious Soul”

In solidarity with feminist theologians who aim to elevate the voices of those whom church history has attempted to erase, I chose to craft a song titled “Only Love Remains” that musically and lyrically maps Porete’s “seven stages of the pious Soul”. (Listen to me play the song here).

The song is melodically contemplative in feel, with a simple three-chord progression throughout both verses and chorus. The chord progression was an intuitive choice, but also metaphorical, representing Porete’s three main characters: The Soul, Reason, and Lady Love.

The chorus lyrics reflect the longing for union with the divine portrayed by ‘The Soul’ in Porete’s dialogue. The mountain represents the mystical seven-stage ‘ascent’, whereby the soul “ascends from the valley to the height of the mountain, which is so isolated that one sees nothing save God,” while a simultaneous stripping away of the personal will occurs. (Porete, 189). Love guides the soul to relinquish the individual self, leading to complete annihilation into the totality of the loving divine presence. Thus, at the end of the journey, there is no personal ‘I’ left to witness anything, only love (God) remains.

According to Porete, in stage one; “the Soul regards and considers, through great fear, that God has commanded her to love Him with all her heart, and also her neighbor as herself.” According to Emily Holmes, this is the life of the virtuous Christian, which is “sufficient for salvation”, but only the beginning of the soul’s path towards divine annihilation.

The latter half of verse one describes the second stage. The lyrics reflect Porete’s encouragement of her fellow Beguines whom “God counsels [as] his special lovers [to] go beyond what he commands.” (Porete, 189). There, the soul renounces ordinary pleasures and egoic delights, including both fear and desire.

Verse two picks up where verse one left off, at stage three of Porete’s ‘seven stages of the pious soul’. According to Wendy Farley, “When fear and pleasure are sufficiently pacified, the soul is able to genuinely enjoy good works.” (Farley, 109). However, the soul realizes that the desire to do good works strengthens the will, and since the will must be dissolved, the desire to do good works must be relinquished.

The fourth stage focuses on meditation and contemplation, leading towards bedazzlement by the divine light and love. It is overwhelming in its beauty and joy, and the soul is completely “inebriated by love”. This is the stage that ‘shocks reason to death’ and union with the divine is achieved. For this reason, many mystics believe this is the end of the journey. But to be in union with God still alludes to a dualistic understanding whereby the individual soul maintains a personal will. According to Porete, to continue the ascent, this too must be relinquished.

From the height of spiritual ecstasy into the descent of nothingness, stage five represents a deep contrast to stage four. In this stage, the soul recognizes that all things, herself included only have existence because of God, who has gifted the soul free will. Porete describes God’s gift of free will as “pure divine goodness”. Yet, the will is also the source of sin and separation from God. Thus in this stage, the soul’s will must be returned to God. Once the will is returned, “Now such a soul is nothing… she finds there neither beginning nor middle nor end, only a bottomless abyss… now this soul is at rest in the bottomless depths.” (Porete, 192).

No longer from the perspective of the individual soul, Lady Love takes over the dialogue, speaking from God’s perspective. Here, the soul is completely free of personal will and purified and clarified until it becomes a mirror of God. God now gazes at God’s self. The soul, however, is “not at all glorified. For the glorification is at the seventh stage.”

Of the seventh stage, Porete says “we will have no understanding until our soul has left our body.” Thus one can only assume that Porete herself is not yet at stage seven, as she remains in the world, acting as a conduit for the divine will to teach others.

Common Misinterpretations and Practical Applications

Marguerite Porete taught a mystical theology that was contrary to mainstream church doctrine and from outside of the confines of the church, challenging 13th-century notions of the religious Christian role of lay women. She was a rebel of her time!

One of the common criticisms of Porete’s work is that her end goal of total annihilation appears worrisome to both feminist theologians and postmodern readers who have little understanding of non-dualism, and thus see Porete’s encouragement of a total relinquishment of the self to be a return to ascetic practices that diminish the female self (inclusive of the body) at the expense of a male God.

Firstly God is beyond gender. ‘He’ is a product of cultural and historic context and a limitation of language. This is why we often use ‘thy’ and ‘thine’ in liturgy when speaking of God. This is also where non-dualistic philosophies as taught in Buddhism and Hindu-Yogic Philosophy are extremely helpful. The ‘annihilation of self’ - akin to Buddhist ‘no-self’ or ‘ego transcendence’ is an extremely advanced ‘non-dualistic’ spiritual state that few ever experience. So why is it important to understand and study these states?

For a few reasons.

One: humility. While the exact path to spiritual union with God, (or beyond union, to complete relinquishment of the personal will) is unknown and beyond the intellect’s capacity to understand, one thing is certain: the love of God surpasses all human understanding, yet speaks to us all the same, drawing our souls towards an ever deeper understanding of and connection with all that is.

Two: the path is long and vast. Christians often mistake ‘salvation’ as the end goal… when in fact, according to Porete and many other Christian mystics, and arguably Jesus himself depending how you interpret scripture; salvation was the starting point. The Eastern Christian church teaches that Theosis (union with God) is actually the ‘end game’. Even in certain evangelical denominations there is the recognition of ‘sanctification’, a state of consciousness that can be activated after one is ‘saved’. This is what the soul longs and desires in its deepest depths, and is more or less the ‘end game’ of most religious traditions; a return to source, a transcendance of the ‘ego self’ that keeps one in the illusion of separation, a realization of the unity and interconnectedness of all that exists…

Three: the mystical and enlightened states of consciousness CAN happen at anytime, they can be momentary or last for longer periods… thus, understanding these states through the ‘mind’ is helpful guidance in the eventuality that these states are experienced…

Ultimately, however, it is beyond the rational mind to comprehend the mystical, which is totally experiential…

So while reason can prompt this journey with its theological questioning, ultimately, only love’s passionate commitment to prayer, contemplation, surrender, and service to others, fed through divine grace, can lead one along the mystical path towards love’s heights and depths.

By walking this path, one opens themselves up to the incredible gifts of the spirit, beyond comprehension…

Happy walking, fellow mystic.

Bibliography:

Athanasiadis, Hannah. “Reading Reflection One: What is the Role of Eros in the Philosophical or Contemplative Life?” Reflection paper, Emmanuel College, 2024.

Corrigan, Kevin and Michael L. Harrington, "Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite", in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Edited by Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman, June 2023. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/pseudo-dionysius-areopagite/

Farley, Wendy. The Thirst of God: Contemplating God’s Love with Three Women Mystics. First Edition. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

Holmes, Emily A. Flesh Made Word: Medieval Woman Mystics, Writing, and the Incarnation. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2013.

Plato, “The Symposium.” In Great Dialogues of Plato. Translated by W.H.D Rouse, edited by Eric H. Warmington and Philip G. Rouse, 69-117. New York, NY: New American Library, 1956.

Porete, Marguerite. The Mirror of Simple Souls. Translated by Ellen L. Babinksy. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1993.

Voss, Michelle. “3 - Sources II with focus on Revelation.” PowerPoint slides, Class 3 lecture, Toronto, ON, Jan 23, 2024.

Voss, Michelle. “The Rise of the Beguine Movement.” Youtube video, Toronto, ON, Dec 22 2023.

Juno Zavitz (they/them) is a consultant, coach and facilitator for non-profits, workers in social services, and community members in caregiving roles. They have 10+ years experience in frontline and management work in addictions, harm reduction, housing, and bereavement, and most love working with people and teams moving through loss, burn out - communities that are in need of repair and solidarity. Their background in this work comes from formal education in social work and psychotherapy, chaplaincy, end of life care, and visual arts. Prior to consultancy work, they held numerous roles in social services, from counselling, frontline, program development & management, outreach, and psychoeducation on projects across Canada and the US. Outside of their work life, Juno is a full-time graduate student studying divinity, theology and psychospiritual therapy, and is currently in training as a priest within the Afro-Cuban tradition of Santeria.

They are a transmasculine person who additionally identifies as having lived experience as a former high-risk drug user, and who believes deeply in transformative justice models and right for all persons to access care.

Connect with Juno:

aporrai.com

https://www.instagram.com/junozavitz

Read more

Raised in the Presbyterian church, I spent the better part of my young adult life exploring spirituality outside of Christianity. I was attracted to the Eastern practices of the Yogic-Hindu tradition and Buddhist teachings, in part because of the rich number of practices that didn’t teach doctrine, but rather gave practical ways to live out an embodied spirituality.

I can personally attest to how deeply these practices have changed my life.

Yet, something about my home tradition; Christianity, and the teachings of Jesus kept calling me back. Thus I returned, and decided to attend seminary.

It was around this time that I started discovering the mystical tradition of Christianity, more prominent in Eastern denominations such as the Eastern Orthodox Church. I chose courses in seminary that would allow me to more deeply explore these teachings.

I have been amazed at what I have found, particularly as it overlaps so effortlessly with many of my Yogic and Buddhist practices and beliefs.

Thus, I present to you an “Introduction on Christian Mysticism”. I have done my best to put together an introduction that is academically sound, whilst using language that is approachable. When talking about mystical experiences and advanced states of consciousness, however, language is difficult. This is just something that must be accepted with the territory. We are discussing subject matter, that can ultimately, not be known through language.

This is my best (current) attempt.

May this presentation spark something in you and expand your knowledge of the Christian mystical tradition.

Many blessings,

Hannah

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Kariatis, Philip. “Contemporary Christian Spirituality: Insights from the Eastern Orthodox Medieval Mystical Tradition,” Pacifica 17 (2004) 311-319.

Ladouceur, Paul. "The Experience of God as Light in the Orthodox Christian Tradition," Journal of Pentecostal Theology 28 (2019) 165-185.

Louth, Andrew. The Origins of the Christian Mystical Tradition: From Plato to Denys. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. 73-127.

Meister Eckhart, The Essential Sermons. Translated by Edmund Colledge and Bernard McGinn. New York: Paulist, 1981. 192-96 (sermon 22).

Merton, Thomas. A Course in Christian Mysticism. Kindle Edition. Edited by Jon. M Sweeney. Collegeville, Minnesota: Liturgical Press, 2017.

Porete, Marguerite. The Mirror of Simple Souls. Translated by Ellen L. Babinksy. Mahwah: Paulist Press 1993.

Pseudo-Dionysius, “The Mystical Theology,” in Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works, Translated by Colm Luibheid. New York: Paulist, 1987, 135-41.

St. Teresa of Avila. Interior Castle. Edited and Translated by E. Allison Peers. Garden City, New York: Dover Publications, 1946.

Read more

To watch the livestream version, preached at Armour Heights Church on October 27th, 2024 you can view it below:

Opening prayer begins at 27:50. Scripture readings begin at 37:30. The sermon begins at 38:48.

FINDING PEACE AMIDST CHAOS by Hannah Athanasiadis
Sermon on Matthew 11:25-30

In 2017 I travelled to India for the first time.

It was a very special trip - an interfaith spiritual pilgrimage led by my Tibetan Buddhist teacher (who I have previously interviewed here).

There were a number of us on this trip who flew in from all over the world, all coming from different faith backgrounds. Some like myself had grown up in the Christian tradition, others were spiritual but not quite religious, and others were contemplating becoming Buddhist.

All of us were spiritual seekers eager to experience spirituality from a different perspective. 

It was an incredible trip, we visited so many different sacred sites. One such place was in the city of Dehli where we attended a Sufi festival.

Dehli is a very large city - at least 5 times the size of Toronto, and densly packed together. Our teacher had forwarned us that if we had never been to a city like that, our senses would likely be completely overwhelmed.

And they were.

On one particular day, we were making our way to a Sufi festival in the heart of Dehli. Our teacher organised for us to be driven into the city centre in the back of these three wheeled Rickshaw vehicles also called: Tuk-Tuks.

If you’ve never seen a Tuk-Tuk before, allow me to paint the picture for you: There’s one driver up front and then you’ve got room for 2 people in the back. There’s a roof but no doors, so the sides of these vehicles are completely open. There are no seatbelts, or if there are I certainly didn’t notice them because nobody wears them… so you’re just clinging on to the sides of these things.

So at this particular time, we’re on our way to this festival and driving through dense Dehli traffic and I am terrified.

Cars are driving every which way, there are motorbikes and regular bikes, and there are people manually pulling carts full of spices and dried goods.

Pedestrians are trying to cross the streets, there are no crosswalks or traffic lights. There are food stalls and chai tea stalls on the side of the road. There are shrines and offerings. Stray dogs and cats are weaving between cars, and there are cows just roaming the streets. Many of them have bells tied to their horns. I was so afraid that someone would run into a cow, but everyone just seemed to be unperturbed by them and just went around.

Everyone is honking their horns, there is shouting in the streets… and the smells…. so many different smells - from urine and cow dung to tea and delicious spices.

So I’m in the back of this Tuk Tuk with another woman next to me and watching people on bikes come straight for us. I think they’re going to crash into us but at the last minute, they either swerve around us or slam on the brakes. And our driver is weaving through, around, braking, speeding up, trying to get us to this festival as quickly as possible.

For me, it’s all just so… intense.

Then all of a sudden the woman next to me bursts into laughter… and she doesn’t stop. Her laughter gets more and more hysterical until she is buckled over, tears are literally rolling down her face. Now I intuitively know that this laughter is a stress response, but laughter is contagious. So I start laughing.

Before you know it we’re both laughing our heads off, the driver is laughing at us laughing, and the tension in my body begins to ease.

And then a feeling of peace overcomes me and I feel myself letting go. I am no longer clinging to the side of this Tuk Tuk for dear life, I am no longer trying to control what’s going on out there. Rather, I sit back, and everything becomes so beautiful. I see everything around me not as chaos but as a divine dance playing out before me, unfolding in perfect harmony. At that moment, in the back of that Tuk-Tuk, in the heart of Dehli, I glimpse peace.

And for some reason, this experience reminds me of something Jesus said.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” - Matthew 11:28-30

Now you may or may not have an immediate experience that comes to mind that feels similar to my experience in Dehli, but every single one of us knows what it feels like to be in a place where we just feel completely overwhelmed. Where life just feels chaotic. Where our senses and our bodies are overloaded.

From the moment we wake up until the moment we go to bed, we are bombarded. Most of us carry these things called smartphones, with constant notifications, pings and emails to check and people to respond to. We’re bombarded by marketing and advertising and consumerism that tells us to buy more, do more, be more. Take this pill and you will be healthy. Buy this product and you will be happy. 

This is all happening subtly in the background, while each one of us is trying to figure out how to live a good life, which for many of us means managing the intense demands of our jobs so we can make a good living, but also feel purposeful. Many of us have families that we take care of. Some of us are students who are in a busy season of learning. Some of us are trying to do all of these things. We wear so many different hats and play so many different roles; parent, child, sibling, friend, colleague, teacher, student… we’re trying to do it all.

But what if we can’t do it all? What if we’re not meant to do it all?

Jesus says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens”.

What does he mean by this? So, we can just give all our problems to Jesus, and expect to receive rest? What about our to-do lists? What about all of our responsibilities? Some of us have families who depend on us for their well-being. Some of us are immigrants who’ve come to a new country. We’re trying to find decent jobs and housing, which in this city can be a big challenge. Many of us are trying to learn a new language and a new culture. We can’t just come to Jesus and expect him to magically make all of our worries and stresses go away, can we?

Or perhaps, what makes these burdens so heavy on us, isn’t that we have responsibilities or things that we need to take care of. It’s that we’re trying to control things that are not in our control.

What if we were to draw a line in the sand? On one side is everything we can control. Preparing for and going to the job interview. Putting in the time to study. Showing up to our commitments, and our families to the best of our abilities, and recognizing that that is enough.

But then there is everything that is not in our control. Whether we get the job, how life turns out, what people do out there… Perhaps this is what we give to Jesus. Perhaps letting go of this is what gives us rest.

But there’s also more.

Jesus says: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me. He says: “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

What does Jesus mean when he says to take his yoke upon us?

Practically speaking - A yoke is a wooden frame that was traditionally fitted to a pair of oxen that pulls a cart behind them.

Figuratively speaking - we could say that we all carry yokes, Jesus included. Now we’ve just been talking about what makes our yoke so heavy and how letting go of what we cannot control, might lighten our load a little bit. But according to Jesus, his yoke is pretty light already. Huh.

Well, when I was doing my research on this passage, I discovered something very interesting. In the Jewish religion around Jesus’ time, when a pupil submitted themselves to the instruction of a certain religious teacher, it was often said that this pupil was “taking the yoke” of the teacher. Aha!

So Jesus is not telling us to take on his burdens here or to submit to him in a sort of constricting way. He's saying to come to him, with an open heart and open mind, ready to receive instruction. He’s saying: bring your heavy burdens, all the things you cannot control, all the things you need help with, and lay them here. I will take care of you. He’s also telling us to stop listening to all the noise from the outside world that is trying to tell us that we need to be somebody.

No, says Jesus. Give that all to me. Let me instruct you now.

This is how Jesus gives us rest. He tells us what to do and he gives us the strength to do it, if only we make the space to listen.

But if we’re too busy trying to be everything to everyone, trying to do everything and control everything, clinging on so tightly the way I was on that Tuk Tuk, when things don’t go a certain way… we can’t hear what Jesus is trying to tell us.

So I’m not suggesting that we don’t engage with the world at all, or that we don’t have goals that we work towards. And I’m not saying even that we reduce our to-do list, throw our hands in the air, and say “Well you know, it’s all out of my control anyway so I might as well not try. Jesus is going to take care of it”. We’ve still got to show up and do our part, but what’s not our part? That’s what we give to Jesus.

And you know, we might need to do that again and again and again. Some of us give our burdens to Jesus on Sunday, but then on Monday, we pick them right back up again. We say or think something along the lines of: “Oh thank you Jesus for looking after my burden yesterday, you know, I think I’m good now. I can take it back.”

We’ve got to leave it there. So we all, myself included, need to practice this regularly. Every time we have an anxious thought about something we cannot control, we need to make space for Jesus to enter there. To instruct us on how we can let it go, even if just for one moment.

Making space for Jesus to enter, doesn’t need to be complex. It doesn’t only need to happen at church on Sundays, or while you’re kneeling in prayer. It can happen at any time. It can be as simple as setting an intention that God speaks through you before you go to work or sit in a job interview. It can be making space for 5 minutes of meditation or prayer first thing when you wake up before you check your phone.

It can look like - allowing joyous moment to infiltrate your heart and to laugh when you feel like laughing, and to cry when you feel like crying.

It can look like, at the end of the day, reflecting on ways love was present for you that day, or having a gratitude journal by your bedside. It can look like taking a short break amid your busy day to go for a walk, maybe take a stroll through the park and observe how beautiful God’s creation is.

Or even just pausing in the middle of whatever you’re doing to just breathe. How many of us take the time to actually breathe?

Full body deep breaths.

In through the belly… letting the breath fill up the entire body, and as you exhale, breathing out all the tension, stress, worry, and things that you cannot control.

Can you feel God’s presence in the breath?...

A moment of peace amid chaos.

Sometimes all we need is one moment to make space for Jesus to instruct us. The beautiful thing is that Jesus can talk to us anywhere and at any time.

He was there with me in the back of the Tuk-Tuk on the busy streets of Dehli. He was whispering in my ear… let go. See the world through my eyes. Watch it all unfold like a perfectly imperfect divine dance.

He is instructing each one of us to put down our heavy burdens, to let go of the things we cannot control, and to stop listening to a world that tells us what we should do and who we should be…

So, what will you do?

How will you make more space for Jesus’ instruction to enter every facet of your life?

Amen.

You can do this practice at any time of day, but I personally like to do it when I feel my energy dipping in the afternoon (it’s more potent than…

Read more

One of the many challenges of the human condition is in reconciling these two truths. After all, humans have two feet. One foot walks in the world of relativity, and the other; in the world of the absolute. We exist both as fully human, and with a seed of divinity that has the potential to flourish and blossom into its fullest divine form, just as Christ, Buddha, and the other great avatars throughout human history demonstrated.

How can this understanding aid us in healing addiction and trauma stemming from adverse childhood experiences - to ultimately live a liberated, fulfilled life that brings us closer to God/ultimate reality, and allows our soul to live out its mission? 

How can we fully realize that seed of divinity within ourselves, so that we might fully experience ourselves as divine creatures having a human experience?

This is just one of the many subjects we covered in my discussion with Spiritual Teacher and Buddhist Lama, Angela Hryniuk, MA.

A little more about Angela: She is a Canadian-born international speaker, author of 6 books and 5 meditation CD’s, a trauma and recovery specialist, and the creator of a revolutionary therapeutic modality called the ATTM™ (Accelerated Transpersonal Timeline Method). Angela has also worked with the United Nations, His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Bishop Desmond Tutu, and was one of the only female spiritual leaders to take part in a pioneering interfaith project in the early 2000s, which you’ll hear more about in our discussion.

Currently, Angela is working with researchers to take the ATTM™ as a clinical therapeutic modality to its next level, completing clinical trials to demonstrate its efficacy specifically targeting people experiencing co-dependency and addiction. The results from the first trial have been nothing short of incredible. I have personally experienced this method, and I can say honestly that it was very effective for me. The changes I’ve experienced from practicing this modality have made a permanent positive impact that I’m still benefiting from today!

You’ll hear more about this + so much more in our rich discussion below. (Check out the time stamps below for an overview of the topics we covered).

Time Stamps

00:00 Introducing Angela
2:00 From Catholicism to Buddhism: Angela’s story
7:10 Recovery from alcoholism: reconciling the two truths
16:00 The Divine is our employer
17:15 Interfaith project
26:00 Choosing your spiritual path
28:00 Buddhism & God: Reconciling Christian and Buddhist beliefs
30:00 My God is an ‘It’
33:00 God the mother and angels
35:28 ATTM™
42:20 Jumping timelines
44:20 Clinical trial
51:23 How to try ATTM™ for yourself + other ways to work with Angela
53:41 The future of the spiritual transformation industry

As mentioned in the video, Angela runs regular intensive Programs and certifies coaches in her ATTM™ modality. If you’d like to explore this intervention, or stay informed with any of Angela’s other work, you can connect with her via her website (scroll to the bottom of the home page to subscribe to her newsletter), or social media channels:

Website: https://www.angelahryniuk.com/
ATTM®: https://go.angelahryniuk.com/optin1695933512706
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ascensionmastery
Tik Tok: https://www.tiktok.com/@angelahryniuk
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@AngelaHryniuk
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/angelahryniuk/

FREE GIFT! Download Angela’s 40 Day Possibility Plan by Clicking Here

INDIA PILGRIMAGE
Lastly, Angela is also running a Pilgrimage to India at the end of 2024! I attended the Pilgrimage to India with Angela in 2017, and it was one of the most transformative trips of my life! Again, I’d recommend subscribing to Angela’s newsletter (at the bottom of her website) or check the details out here http://bit.ly/IndiaPilgrimage and you can even watch my testimonial video on that website.