Christian Zen?

A dear friend says she found her way back to the Church through the practice of Christian Zen so I listened respectfully and attentively to “Jesus and Buddha: Practicing across Traditions,” a DVD of presentations by Fr. Robert Kennedy, SJ, Chung Hyun Kyung, and Paul Knitter. My reservations about Christian Zen were intensified. The claim, of course, is that Zen is itself compatible with our faith because it is not itself a competing system of dogma; rather, it is a practice and a way of seeing and knowing that is beyond our theological or cognitive thoughts. What I heard, however, was surely mysticism but by no means an irrationalism; rather an affirmation of a coherent system of interlocking truths…in other words, a real philosophy of life or religion. And these I found to be alternatives to and incompatible with Christian beliefs…albeit in a gentle, non-direct manner. Questions for Christian Zen: 1. Do you have the faith of a child? Christian faith, in the persons of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, is first of all childlike: profoundly analogous to the trust of a child in a good father. A common refrain of the practitioners was the disparagement of “a Santa Clause figure” or “god as a being up in the sky next to other beings.” The sense conveyed by the presenters is that each had lost childish faith, been in some way “scandalized,” but not been graced with a mature but childlike faith in the person(s) of God in the way of our saints. 2. Creator/creature? The doctrine of creation is absolutely the foundation of our faith. We know, first of all, with 12-steppers, that “there is a God and it’s not me!” This is basic! I am not God; but I am created and later redeemed and destined for eternal glory by a God out of His generous, abundant love. In Zen there is no talk of God; He is their “null curriculum.” Instead, there is talk of being “one with all being.” To me it is clearly pantheism, even if they refuse to acknowledge it. By neglect if not by assertion, there is a denial of a transcendent God and a re-direction to seek release from the false self and union with “all” as the enlightened path. 3. Time and history? Christianity is all about remembering and hope. The present, paradigmatically in the Eucharist, is always a remembering of the past actions of God, in time and history, and a hope in God, eventually an eternity in heaven. Zen seems to have no use for the past or the future but seeks abandon to the “NOW.” With John Lennon they prefer to “imagine there’s no heaven.” Again: there is no explicit rejection of Christian eschatology; rather an intentional glance away into a mystified “NOW.” Again, the “null curriculum,” although politely and graciously. 4. What’s the problem: sin or delusion? For the Christian THE problem is sin: a deliberate, decisive decision of the will to prefer something to God. Sin is personal above all else: a rejection of God’s overtures of love, like the spurning of a Lover. It is distrust and unbelief; the refusal to receive, surrender, and obey; the decision to take control of life and become my own god. Zen seems indifferent to sin. Rather it identifies false consciousness as the problem and enlightenment as the solution. This enlightenment is a mystical state of union with Being, a release from the illusions of the “false self” into a state of peace. 5. Who is Jesus Christ? The Zen practitioner speaks of Christ but this seems not to be the actual man Jesus who agonized and was tortured and murdered on that cross on that hill. “Christ” becomes a word suggesting a state of enlightenment, peace and release. For us, on the other hand, Jesus Christ is the man on the cross. And we all stand level before Him: we are either killing Him, again and again, or we are repenting. Zen does not deal with repentance and conversion, but with enlightenment; and they are NOT the same thing. 6. Word and words. Ours is a religion of The Word: “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” Pope Benedict is one of many who have helped us to see that the Hellenic concept of “logos” as reason, reality, truth was providentially available for St. John and the Fathers as they understood the Mystery of Christ as Logos, combining the Hellenic wonder before Truth with the Hebraic sense of God’s Word as dynamic, creative, powerful, fruitful, and merciful. For us then, all our words and thoughts and theories need to somehow lead to and spring from our communion with The Word. By contrast, Zen seems tired of words as empty, ephemeral, and deceptive. And so, rather than seeking to be penetrated by the Word and all words that flow from Him, they seek release into “wordlessness.” 7. Prayer or Meditation? For us prayer is always an interchange with a Person: some kind of dialogue between the I and the Thou, be it petition, intercession, thanksgiving, praise, meditation or the silent and loving glance of contemplation. Christian meditation (for example, many of the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola) is attention to a specific text or scene/drama from salvation history in order to pierce beneath the concrete details to the deeper Mystery manifest in the word or actions or image. Zen seems to mean something different: a technique to empty the mind of images and distractions to arrive at a state of peaceful emptiness. What that is I don’t know! It sounds more iconoclastic than iconic! 8. The eternal soul or the real self? Our belief is simple and clear: each of us is created out of nothing as an eternal (bodied) soul destined for an eternity of participation in the life of the Trinity. Zen talks about the false self (egotism, anger, desires, etc) in contrast with the True Self but what the latter is remains obscure. It is a state of peace, of dissolution of the false self, and of union with All but not God as we understand. 9. What is desire? Zen seeks release from desire as delusion and the root of suffering. For us it is different: we are created to desire…to desire God and to desire all that is true and good and beautiful. For us the problem is not desire: our very substance is the Eros desire for God; and (again Pope Benedict instructs us) God Himself is Eros as desire for us (understood with all the safeguards of analogy). We seek to direct, sublimate and eventually sanctify our desire. 10. Holiness? Zen has a pronounced sense of reverence for life and for Mystery. But this is not “holiness” as we know it. Holiness applies only to God Himself and by extension to the things of God: Moses before the burning bush; Jesus transfigured, talking with Moses and Elijah before Peter, James and John. Holiness is a Mystery of “otherness”…of goodness beyond goodness as we know it in reality as we know it. And so, to become holy is to be set aside, to separate from life as we know it in order to be in union with a higher life, supernatural life. Zen seems to have no use for the supernatural or for holiness in this sense. Yet, it is the heart of our faith. 11. What about the basics like the Trinity, the Incarnation and the Holy Spirit? Perhaps the worst aspect of Christian Zen is that it uses words precious to us with a different meaning. For example, there is much talk about the Spirit in a way that sounds like Christianity. But for us the Holy Spirit is the one that affirms that God has come in the flesh and is the Spirit of Love between the Father and the Son. Zen has no mention of “in the flesh” or the Trinity except in that they are redefined as alternate, pantheistic realities. 12. Esoteric? With this we return to our first concern: the Gospel is for the childlike, the simple, and especially the poor. Notice that Marian apparitions are always to poor children. Zen, as practiced in our culture, seems to be the practice of an elite, mostly highly educated and sophisticated people who are searching for truth and meaning because they lack the “faith of children.” Zen is gentle and passive. Unlike other versions of liberal Christianity that draw from feminism, Marx, Freud or Nietzsche, it can coexist in Catholicism because it lacks the fierce aggressiveness against our faith. On the down side it therefore lacks martial, passionate, masculine zeal. I am not a professional theologian but I have spent a lifetime trying to hear the voice of Christ in His Church. What I heard in these presentations was reverent, gentle, gracious, and peaceful…admirable in many ways. But I did not hear the voice of my Lord.

Draw Me to Yourself, Lord

Lord, Draw me to Yourself; fill me with your love. Draw me to Yourself; cleanse me of my sins. May my weaknesses, longings, sadness, mistakes, failures and sins draw me to You. Safeguard my heart in peace, purity, poverty of spirit and prudence. Strengthen me by the indwelling of Your Holy Spirit. Make me humble, holy, loving and pure. Make me quiet, still, peaceful, calm, attentive, alert, watchful, and vigilant. Make me receptive, docile, pliable, “disponible”, responsive, obedient, and thankful. Make me patient, painstaking, long-suffering, persistent and persevering. Make me sensitive, compassionate, kind, generous, merciful, magnanimous, joyous, zealous, fierce, and fearless. Make me steadfast. Make me trustworthy as I place all my trust in You. Let me sing Your praises forever!

James Foley: Catholic Martyr or Apostate? The Two Faces of Islam and the Unfathonable Mystery of the Human Heart!

Sunday NY Times (Feb.22, 2015) featured a fascinating piece on James Foley, the photo-journalist who was brutally executed by Isis: while he was being honored as a Catholic martyr, word was spreading from fellow captives that he had converted to Islam in captivity. His family offered a window of insight: in an earlier captivity in Libya he had taken to praying with Muslims and he later described his ambivalence. He was aware of the tension of his prayer to Jesus and theirs to Allah and yet he felt a certain union with them in prayer. After the Libyan captivity, he spoke at Marquette, (his Jesuit Alma Mater where he would likely have imbibed a positive attitude to Islam): "So, from then on out I prayed with them five times a day. It was so powerful, and it was something I needed to do to commune with these guys who were relying on their faith in Allah. But it was difficult. I was thinking, 'Jesus, am I praying to Allah? Am I violating my belief in you?' I don't have an answer to that. I just know that I was authentically with them, and I was authentically praying to Jesus. I don't know theologically. But I thought I was being authentic." And so, it seems that later, in his fatal captivity, he also "converted" probably for practical reasons to be free of beatings and have peace to pray five times a day. He seems to have intimately engaged with the two faces of Islam: the dark and the light. He suffered torture and execution. At the same time, he bonded with his fellow captives in shared prayer. One of his fellows latter said he was most interested in the Koran and understanding Islam. I imagine he was in a life-and-death struggle of "discerning" in that ancient tradition what would be good for his still-Christian soul and what bad. Islam is in large part an acceptance of Divine Revelation: monotheism, creation, the Torah. But, much like Mormonism and other "Christian" cults, it deviates in profound ways: basically Arian, it explicitly rejects the divinity of Christ and the Trinity, it reverts to primitive and pre-Christian acceptance of polygamy and therefore misogyny, and it rejects Jesus' mysticism of forgiveness in favor of violence. As Pope Benedict pointed out in his brilliant Regensburg Address, it is also irrational in its dismissal of reason and truth in favor of a willful deity. While we can abstractly parse out the demonic from the angelic in the religion, when we meet a Muslim we face a far deeper Mystery, a person with a heart and intellect and spirit! The weeds and wheat flourish together and practically they cannot be disengaged this side of the Parousia. This ambiguity calls to mind one of the very few theological disagreements between the Great Popes, John Paul and Benedict: the prayer with the religions at Assisi. St. John Paul was quite comfortable in this communion; but Benedict feared confusion. Perhaps the first was more fervent in his hunger for the good, for communion, for reconciliation; and the later more passionate about the truth and the right. Perhaps both were "right" in complementary ways: so catholic and broad is the Church! Foley seems to have been closer to St. John Paul. I consider him a saint, although one who probably won't be canonized. May he pray for us and for peace with our Muslim brothers and sisters!

A Marian Take on "50 Shades of Grey"

The fascination with Fifty Shades of Grey and its masochism has been perceptively related to the overload on women in a post-feminist world: they are stressed with pressures from the marketplace of work/career and that of popularity/appeal, they are overachieving in industry and academy even as they are taking care of the kids, the home and the parents. They are so active, so in control and in charge of so much...the logic goes...that they welcome retreat into a fantasy of passivity, inertia, and submission. This is probably accurate. If the "feminine" includes a dynamic of reception, than it will re-assert itself, in an unfortunate form, if repressed by a hyper-masculine culture of unbalanced agency, achievement and control. The problem goes beyond women: men also are drawn to masochism. The same-sex male act is defined by domination...an ugly reality entirely avoided by those who so cavalierly legitimate the act. The theme of the female dominatrix has wide appeal, even in softer forms as the pornographic classic Lolita in which the weak, older man is overcome by the underage female aggressor. This "submission" theme, in conjunction with its complement "domination," suggest an underlying privation: an obsession with control, action and achievement and an aversion to reception, contemplation, and "the feminine." As creatures, gratuitously brought into being by a generous, loving God, we are always first and foremost in the posture of reception: we receive existence as well as this particular mother and father, family, time in history, DNA, and so on. And if we are created to love we are first loved...by family, and others, and God...long before we can ever love even in the slightest. And so, the appeal of masochism suggests that so many of us have not been loved, have not received, have not learned to surrender to love... be that in family or romance or friendship or religion. It suggests we need to learn to open our hearts to the wholesome, ennobling, freeing and strengthening love that comes, in so many marvelous manners, from the God who created and saved and loves us!

Katniss Everdeen: Icon of the Feminine as Fierce

As portrayed by Jennifer Lawrence, Katniss (Hunger Games)is a refreshing, inspiring image of woman as a warrior...courageous, fierce, and resilient...but yet feminine and maternal. As such, she retrieves Catholic traditions of a fierce, fearless femininity. We think of our Blessed Mother as gentle, quiet, almost passive...but recall that she is the one who crushes the head of the serpent, Satan. As such, she is the penultimate warrior, fearless and reckless in defense of her children. This is Katniss: gracious, gentle, but relentless in defense of the victimized. Think of St. Catherine of Sienna rebuking kings and popes; of Joan of Ark leading her troups. Think of the many virgin-martyrs who sprang up spontaneously in the fertile soil of early Christianity: in a Roman culture where women were the possessions of men, they asserted an independence, an interior strength, a courage, an invincible determination. Their courage and strength of course were wed to their purity and chastity. Katniss models this as well. She is more than capable of eros love. Indeed, she loves and is loved passionately by two young men. Interestingly, she herself is confused in her feelings for her two lovers but what is clear to all is that these romantic loves must defer to a deeper, truer, more passionate love...her devotion to her family and people. While not explicitly Christ-centered, this celibate, chaste commitment reflects a heroic, transcendent, sacrificial and agapic love. Her vigorous, natural longing for companionship and intimacy surrenders itself on behalf of a more generous, selfless, heroic love. Katniss, like every celibate and virgin, shows us that romantic love never fulfills itself but needs to be poured into the deeper agapic love for God, family and community. This is the pattern of the virgin martyrs, of our Lady, of Joan and Catherine. Femininity is at once generous, tender, pure and fierce!

The Seductive Nihilism of "The Wire"

Like many, when exposed to the TV series, The Wire, I became fascinated, obsessed,addicted...watching 2 or 3 episodes, recklessly, late in to the night, well past my bedtime. Just thinking about the next episode made me high...But, I wondered: Why the vague guilt and quiet sadness? Everyone agrees: "The writing is excellent; the acting superb; the characters are fascinating as each is a mixture of good and bad; and it is so realistic!" The problem with the series is precisely the unrelenting moral ambiguity of the characters and a fundamental unreality about the show's world view. The series prides itself on its realism about dysfunctional urban cultures and there is a certainly a powerful taste of reality to the show. But The Universe of The Wire is relentlessly, fundamentally dismal, hopeless, closed and nihilistic. More specifically, this world is devoid of the three fundamental realities of the world I know: the presence of strong, good women; the possibility of moral heroism; and an openness to a transcendent, supernatural realm. First: the absence of the feminine: as presented, the world of the Baltimore projects, police and docks is harshly, stereotypically macho in the worst fashion. It is all men...and brutalized women. No one (with the exception of Omar and his grandmother) seems to have a good wife, an admirable sister, a dear daughter, or an inspiring girlfriend! No one! Consider by contrast the classic femme fatale of film noir in which the woman is fascinatingly and ambiguously femme (her beauty intimating consolation, happiness, satisfaction) and fatale and oftentimes one must wait for the final scene to see if the femme or the fatale prevails. In The Wire, there are no genuinely womanly characters...seductive or inspirational. Kima, the endearing lesbian policewoman, is distinguished by her aggressiveness. In one scene, a young black thug punches an older policeman and the other cops pile on to give him the beating of his life. Kima stops what she is doing to jump into the action. I expected that her black identity and maternal instinct drove her to protect the young man; but she jumped in to pummel him further! Rhonda, the bright and beautiful prosecuting attorney, casts herself from one adulterous relationship to another, seemingly oblivious of her own dignity or that of marriage. DeAngelo's mother (Avon's sister) absolutely entrusts her family to a life of crime and talks her own son out of seeking a new path. Any thriving, vibrant culture rotates around the strong mother: you name it...Irish Catholic, Jewish and most of all Afro-American. The demise of the maternal, the resilient, the nourishing, the womanly...is a harbinger of cultural catastrophe. The Wire portrays just such a world-without-women. Secondly, The Wire is absolutely cynical about the possibility of genuine, consistent moral goodness. Every character is enclosed in a narrow world and enslaved to personal vices and none have a possibility of escape. This is especially heart-breaking in regard to the young drug dealers; but no less true of the cops, who are entrapped more by interior than external shackles. McNulty is the epitome of this: charming, handsome, intelligent, and zealous about his work, he is also a bad drunk, a compulsive adulterer, a workaholic, an irresponsible father-husband. He is a man without a center; a moral catastrophe! He shows not an iota of contrition or awareness of his desperate conditions(s) or a hope for a better way. At least DeAngelo and Striker are seeking a new life...albeit futilely. Indeed, it is this sense of futility, of despair, of a closed, imprisoning universe that hangs over the series like one of Bunk or Jimmy's hangovers. To use classic Catholic terms: the world and the flesh are invincible...the devil is in hiding but in control...there is no hope of escape. This is the third and final and fatal aspect of the series: there is no Hope and no real hope...whether you are a Polish dock worker, an Irish cop, or a black drug dealer. There seems to be a dark, voyeuristic appeal to this world. It is not real except perhaps in the sense that it accurately portrays the 1% of the worst of the worst. It presents a Gotham-type, Jungian or Gnostic world in which good and evil are evenly matched so that the good never triumphs and evil, by default, wins by a tie. Having spent my adult life in Jersey City, a city not unlike Baltimore, I am certain that every police department, housing project and blue-collar workplace is teaming with good, even heroic women and men. There are strong, generous, resilient women; there is the possibility of heroism for us men; our world does open up and is enclosed in a greater, better reality. The Wire is NOT realistic!

Veronica's Veil: Icons in a Culture of Disconnection

Last night, at the NYU Catholic Center, Thomas Hibbs, Thomist philosopher and critic of contemporary nihilistic culture out of Baylor University, delivered a lecture ("Maritain, Modernity, Aesthetics and Beauty")that was remarkable for its clarity and depth of insight. Drawing from Maritain's understanding of art and beauty, Marion's more current insights in icons-and-idols, and the striking visuals of Roualt's Miserere, Hibbs contrasted (post)modern nihilism with Roualt's image of Veronica and her veil. Maritain, following Thomnas, understood that art is always based in the senses and the natural, in reality, even as it moves beyond mere portrayal to unveil deeper realities. The crisis of our culture is the disconnect (traced through modern philosophy back to the "angelism" of Descartes and his divorce of body from mind/soul)of image from reality. Futuristic film (e.g. The Matrix) is obsessed with the dread that image reflects only another image, in an infinite regress, so that nothing real or true is ever reached. So, for example, Maritain considered that early-20th-century art mostly ignored the human face...with a few exceptions. Prominent among these exceptions was his friend Roualt. The key to understanding Maritain and indeed the Catholic understanding of Beauty and Truth is Roualt's presentation of Veronica and her veil. Vera-icon means, of course, true image. And so, by this tradition we cherish the conviction that the face of the actual person of Jesus is truly an image of the invisible God; and that that actual image itself can be re-imaged by us, as Veronica did with her act of compassion and her humble iconic veil. And so, the Catholic Universe of Veronica, Thomas, Maritain and Roualt is the polar opposite of post-modernity in its skepticism, nihilism, isolation and loneliness. With Aristotle we know that our senses, images, words and thoughts connect us with the real, with Being, with "the Other." With Veronica we know that we can touch and caress and comfort the very face of God in the concrete, physical, sensual realities of service, sacrament, art, family and sacrifice.