Searching for God # 70

 “The potency of adjacency” borrowed form Blake, quoted from the last post in this space, evokes questions of the relationship between the literal/empirical world view and the metaphoric/imaginative world view, especially as they relate to theology.

Substituting for the either-or approach of the binary view, this ‘potency of adjacency’ implies, no demands, a ‘both-and’ presumption. Implicit in a ‘both-and’ perspective is the literary and epistemological concept of the paradox. And the cultural comfort with paradox is slim, at best, non-existent at worst. Of course we hear talking heads uttering words like, ‘two different things can be possible at the same time.’ And in traditional Christian theology, we have heard and read much about the potency of the adjacencies of ‘immanence and transcendence’ of God….as God-man in Jesus and transcending all bonds of physics, geography, time and space, the God as a universal force.

It is in the living moments, many of them judged by the absolute ‘morality’ or ‘immorality’ of behaviour that we find a potency of adjacencies to have been eliminated. And, focusing on the behavioural to the exclusion or at least mimimizing of the imaginative, the ‘back-story’ as we often hear it contextualized, we render ourselves constricted by the demands, expectations and definitions of conventional norms, in all aspects of our lives and our perceptions.

The notion of being judged, and of accountability and responsibility for acts that society deems ‘evil’ has evolved as norm to the exclusion of the more expansive, and also exhaustive ‘dig’ into what is going on when ‘that act’ is being committed. The very fact that humans do what we do not wish to do and fail to do what we would wish to do lies at the heart of the human condition and the perplexity of wrestling with ourselves. There is a potency of adjacencies if ever there was one! And, perhaps, from Blake’s perspective,  we might come to know ourselves more clearly if we are to be patient enough to ask the multiple questions about things that we have said and done that we wish we could take back. And not only take back, but even perhaps have a more clear understanding of what lies behind those words and acts. That too is within the frame of our accountability, responsibility, to ourselves, and to God?

The potency of adjacency evokes the most obvious blind-spot of the church’s unbalanced perception, attitudes and effectiveness in offering insight into the human psyche’s darkest, most mysterious and least accessed unconscious. If performative is the adjective that describes a formalized, choreographed, and potentially autonomic behaviour, for many liturgical rituals, repeated oral prayers, genuflecting, and both disciplined regularity and a focus on ‘good’ performances holds a very high place in the value structure of many parishes. The question of the cursory, politically correct, niceness in public about a homily, or even a single sentence from such a sermon, perhaps until there is a ground-swell of disdain, demonstrates a prevalent collective modus operandi within small and medium-sized parishes. The private, secret, and visious gossip about the most innocent and legitimate behaviour, based simply on the secret jealousies, private and judgemental perceptions, projections and biases of one or two especially long-term parishioners is a source of organizational and institutional and serpentine corrosion with which many churches are either unprepared or unwilling to address.

Human behaviour, attitudes, perceptions, biases, prejudices and projections are never left at the door of the sanctuary. They invariably are an intimate, if unexpected, dynamic in any ecclesial setting. And yet, as is the case with so much ‘verbal abuse’ outside the sanctuary or by-the-by discomfort of especially ensconced and traditional parishioners inside, such behaviour is too often glossed over, dismissed as ‘too-hot-to-handle’ or ‘incongruent with the reputation of the church.  Conflict-averse men and women are, apparently, drawn to ecclesial affiliation, as well as the occasional trouble-maker whose need for attention, influence and political power generate much tension and conflict in a micro-culture which is open to serious and especially secretive ambush.

Within those ecclesial settings, too, fervency, urgency, intensity of emotions are frequently considered to be expressions of intense devotion and dedication to God, while they might very well be a need to project whatever ‘demons’ are seeking release in a person’s private psychic life. The social and politically correct repression of emotion, as a sign of reverence to the holy, the sacred and the beauty of the experience, taken together, is a potentially over-heated petri dish of enflamed and deep-seated needs, aspirations and fears. Even in such heated situations, the individuals may well be completely unaware of how or why they are behaving in the manner they are. Long-held, secret grudges never exposed and cauterized, ambitious and neurotic needs for control, previously treated as ‘kind and generous and committed’ to the running and the survival of the parish, rude and abusive attitudes that have been ‘rounded-over’ as ‘without social graces’…the very idea of emotional integrity can evoke generalized observations like T.S. Eliot’s ‘the trouble today is people wanting to be important’ and ‘people cannot stand too much reality’….

The intersection of those pithy epithets, itself, is a recipe for not only discreet and sensitive, and integrous and authentic and delicate leadership, from a pastoral perspective. A clergy may, for example, be aware of the depth of the potential conflict before the ‘combatants’ full grasp of their engagement. Intuition may suggest a private meeting with each, as a ‘red flag’ of caution. And even that kind of intervention has the potential to backfire, to explode and to erupt into a full-blown tempest in a tea-pot.

Tempests in tea-pots, however, are often the most conducive and fertile ‘pots’ where decades of resentments have smoldered, where change is considered evil, where new ideas and approaches are considered foreign, alien and illegitimate, even a choice of hymns, traditional versus more modern, can be so upsetting as to trigger deeper sensations of discomfort with which individuals have little to no insight as to how to discern the meaning of those ‘perturbations’ and resist any public acknowledgement, even confidentially, of their potency. Church laity are unable and unwilling, in general, to discern, discuss and reflect on the intersection of local culture with the mission and ministry of the parish church. What is considered normal from a cultural point of view is also both highly valued in ecclesial activities, as well as valued as a moat keeping ‘other’ and ‘different’ and ‘challenging’ ideas out of reach.

And yet, this potency of adjacency, local culture and theological insight and creativity, can prove radioactive. And such a reaction is often, if not always, very difficult to either discuss fully or to moderate into a harmonious new manuscript to be shared by new and old. One glaring issue over which this dynamic prevails is the stereotype of rising numbers in both pews and collection plates.

If the numbers of both have been relatively high, then any decrease is considered cause for worry. On the other hand, if the numbers are rising, irrespective of why and how such a demographic shift is occurring, that is invariably a matter for celebration, especially in the hierarchy of the ecclesial organization. Churches and clergy are too often measured, valued and esteemed by the numbers they either generate or dissipate. The collision of cultural images, one from the corporate world, with another in what might very well be a highly devoted, disciplined, reflective, prayerful and reserved small parish community where conflicts are addressed quietly, discreetly, openly and invariably seeking resolution and compromise, where individuals are growing significantly and meaningfully in their spiritual lives, where most if not all men and women and children feel and believe they are cared for and supported remains unspoken in most institutional cultures and board rooms. Big, wealthy, highly popular and highly visible, and deeply immersed in public activities are some of the benchmarks of successful churches and clergy. The small, reserved, quiet, respectful and almost inconspicuous model is rarely given its due in terms of organizational respect, when such a clergy-laity-model may prove to be the most instrumental and life-giving and God-fearing.

It is, nevertheless, the open, public and deliberate separation of good and evil, God and man, God and nature, and the churchs’ preference or even expectation of or requirement for moral dominance as if the parent-child relationship between God and laity is the one with which most are familiar and thereby qualifies as the one  least likely to arouse contention. And arousing contention of any kind is a deliberate and determining no-no given the ecclesial model of ‘patience, tolerance, and kindness.’

‘Everything will be alright, because God is going to see to it that it will,’ is a kind of placebo for whatever might befall a person or family. And while such a placebo carries the authentic hope of the one uttering it, the timing and the situation for the recipient may be completely incongruous with that of the care-giver. Such a placebo also discloses the unrecognized and unacknowledged ‘anxiety’ of the care-giver who really does not know what to say or how to be present in empathy with the suffering other. Pastoral care, unlike medical care, is unlikely to bring surgical removal of a tumor, or to kill the pain of an arthritic knee or hip. It is more likely to sit quietly, patiently and serenely and actively listening to the suffering other, if that other wishes even to engage verbally.

And it is the potency of adjacencies of life and death, the latter of which is almost totally avoided, denied and disavowed in and by the culture, that, along with several others, needs the scrutiny of Blake’s prophetic, if challenging, counsel. We are not hiding anything from a God who sees and knows it all. Why do we think we can? And why do we think we can chose which methods and which issues are appropriate for ‘church’ discussion and address? Much has been written and spoken about the bartering that accompanies prayer, as if negotiating with God is like ‘asking for an extended curfew from our parents in adolescence. And it is the child-like, even adolescent theology than offers the opportunity to morph into a more mature, open, fearless, courageous and life-giving theology that is neither afraid nor ashamed to bring before God all of the secrets of both ourselves and our churches.

Blakes’ seeking the universe in a grain of sand remains one of the most potent and pregnant utterances in English type. And churches and the people who operate them can embrace the breadth and depth of his insight  as integral to the search for God.