Note: This post was first published on Quaker Universalist Conversations, the blog of the Quaker Universalist Fellowship. It has also been republished on QuakerQuaker, and there is a substantial comments discussion appended to the post there.

During a one-month practice period (dathun) at the Buddhist Gampo Abbey in the spring of 1989, Pema Chödrön gave morning talks to encourage participants “to use the abundant material of daily life as their primary teacher and guide.”

Midway through the month, she spoke about the meditation practice of tonglen, “sending and taking,” which has to do with cultivating fearlessness.

tonglen sayingThe essence of tonglen practice is that on the in-breath you are willing to feel pain: you’re willing to acknowledge the suffering of the world.  From this day onward, you’re going to cultivate your bravery and willingness to feel that part of the human condition.

You breathe in so that you can really understand what the Buddha meant when he said that the first noble truth is that life is suffering.  What does that mean?

With every in-breath, you try to find out by acknowledging the truth of suffering, not as a mistake you made, not as a punishment, but as part of the human condition.  With every in-breath, you explore the discomfort of the human condition, which can be acknowledged and celebrated and not run away from.

Tonglen puts it right on the line. (132-33)

Awaking Loving-Kindness (1996)

The history of the human consciousness has been filled with the struggle to assign meaning to suffering.  No living being welcomes suffering, yet human beings impose immeasurable unnecessary violence upon themselves and others—psychic, emotional, religious, political and physical violence—in order to avoid suffering, or at least to define who does or does not deserve to suffer.

Yet what a simple notion Pema shares: acknowledging the truth of suffering, not as a mistake you made, not as a punishment, but as part of the human condition.

Not that life is nothing but suffering.  Just that fully lived life of necessity includes suffering.

We are now in an age of endless argument between those of us who lean toward a “God” who measures out pleasure and suffering and those who, horrified at the notion of such a “God,” insist there cannot be any “God” worthy of belief.

theist-secularist-suffering circle diagramOne could draw a simplistic diagram to represent this argument, because it is not really about “God” but about “human beings versus suffering.”

The irony is that all of us personify “God,” the theists and the secularists and those who waver in between.  This is because all we human beings know about is interaction with persons.  More to the point, we live with the knowledge, or at least the fear, of being at the mercy of persons with absolute authority over us.

How could we imagine a Wholeness which simply is, in which we know ourselves to be complete and compassionate, even in the midst of our finite, fallible, suffering, mortal existence?

In his 2011 book, Conversation with Christ: Quaker Meditations on the Gospel of John, Douglas Gwyn shares a commentary on John 6:25-34, a passage which follows the sacred story about Jesus feeding five thousand people with five barley loaves and two fish.

The people are puzzled….  Jesus brushes aside their mundane concerns….  He knows they didn’t really see the sign he had performed in feeding them yesterday.  Or more exactly, they didn’t see where the sign was pointing.

If it pointed anywhere for them, it was simply toward more bread today, and tomorrow. These are agrarian peasants, after all.  Many of them live a hand-to-mouth existence….  Jesus gave them bread, but they took it as loaves.  They grasped the commodity, the form, without perceiving the substance….

Apparently, the crowd at least understands that Jesus is the one sent by God….  So they ask, what work will he perform, that they should believe in him?  They remind Jesus that Moses provided their ancestors manna in the wilderness.  That was a daily event.  So yesterday’s miracle is only yesterday’s miracle….  (45)

Jesus…aims to shift their frame of reference…from yesterday’s miracle to the eternally present work of God.  He hopes to refocus their eyes into the eternal, heavenly dimension of their temporal, mundane present.  But again they miss it.  They simply ask Jesus to provide yesterday’s bread every day.  (46)

These people were normal people like us.  It was extremely difficult for them to stretch their imaginations, their expectations, beyond the mortal needs of the day.

And their notion of “God” was our normal one: “God” as a powerful being who can relieve our day to day suffering—if we can only figure out what we need to do to persuade “him” to do it.

The only other alternative we can normally imagine is the existentialist one: there is no “God,” and hence no meaning, no sacredness, to existence.  We just exist.


Both Jesus the Christ (“the Anointed One”) and Gautama the Buddha (“the Awakened One”) breathed in the suffering of their fellows and breathed out a loving “middle path.”  Not one that removed suffering, but one that led to an adult embrace of all aspects of life.

Jesus, ministering to country folk who were basically good but struggling folk like us, used the “God” language and the scriptures they knew.  Even so, he sought always to breathe in their fear of the stern, capricious gods of their world and their time.  He sought always to breathe out the embrace of a compassionate “Father,” whose sole purpose is to lead “his children” into mature, emotionally self-sufficient adulthood as mortal beings.

The distinction is a simple yet challenging one.

It is not necessary to use “God” language in order to witness to such life, yet it is also possible to use a sort of “God” language which gives voice to such witness.

And so it is.

Blessèd Be,

Image Sources

Bread loaf: “An afterward to bread-making,” by By Alex Legeros, Staff Columnist, The Gustavian Weekly, November 5, 2010

Tonglen saying: “There is nothing unique about our suffering (Tonglen, a compassion practice),” on Beyond Meds – Alternatives to Psychiatry: interdisciplinary & integral holistic well-being

Note: This Beyond Meds post includes links to tonglen teachings by several different people, including this YouTube talk by Pema Chödrön.

This is slightly modified version of a blog post published on July 28th on Quaker Universalist Conversations.

Brent Nongbri is a post-doctoral research fellow in early Christianity at Macquarie University in Sydney, Australia. His 2013 book, Before Religion: A History of a Modern Concept, offers a corrective to the conventional modern uses of the term “religion.”

Before Religion, by Brent NongbriThat corrective stands as a direct challenge to Quakers who call themselves “universalist.” The challenge is not that universalist intuitions about human faith and practice are wrong, but that we confound our perceptions and prevent clear discernment by continuing to use the concept of “religion” in it’s traditional senses.

Crucial Distinctions

Nongbri emphasizes two sets of distinctions to undergird his argument. The first is the distinction between the ancient world and the modern world, the boundary being loosely defined by the 16th century Protestant Reformation. During this era there were profound shifts in how European Christians conceptualized what we now call “religion.”

The second distinction is between descriptive and redescriptive scholarly accounts of groups of people. Descriptive accounts are “an observer’s best effort at reproducing the classification systems” of the people being studied. A redescriptive account “freely employs classification systems foreign to those of the people being observed.” (21)

Since the 17th century, Western thinkers have described the cultic and contemplative practices, mythologies and sacred texts of other peoples using categories based on their conceptualization of Christianity. Even with the 19th century shift toward describing other cultures as independent phenomena rather comparing them with Christian cultures, scholars continued to expect those peoples to have “religions” with the same categories which they had defined for Christianity.

The crucial error, according to Nongbri, is that these categories are applied to Christian and other cultures as if they were descriptive, when in fact they are redescriptive. Post-Reformation thinkers have looked for what they define as “religion” by looking for those ingredients in the cultures they study. If they find phenomena which they can squeeze into their categories, they call that the “religion” of those people.

Inventing Ancient “Religions”

For example, the first European description of “the religion of India” comes from Henry Lord, an Anglican chaplain with the British East India Company.

A Discoverie of the Sect of the Banians, by Henry LordFor his 1630 tract, A Discoverie of the Sect of the Banians [note 1], Lord relied upon Brahman interpreters. However, since they merely did their best to answer the questions he posed, the tract is actually redescriptive, not the descriptive work he and his audience believed it to be.

For one thing, Lord grouped all the cultic practices, superhuman beings and holy texts of the Indian subcontinent under the rubric of the “Indian religion” (which, by the 18th century, came to be known in the West as “Hindooism” [note 2]).

Having done this, Lord then tried to fill in the predefined categories which Christian colonialists carried with them into foreign lands.

For example, seeking to identify their “holy scripture,” he came up with “a booke of theirs called the SHASTER, which is to them as their Bible, containing the grounds of their Religion in written word.” (110-11) As Nonbri explains in a footnote, “‘Shaster’ in all likelihood refers to the Sanskrit term śāstra, which is a general term for a rulebook rather than the name of a specific text.” (208)

The History of “Religion”

The bulk of Nongbri’s book is a thorough and fascinating account of two historical processes.

Dance of ShivaFirst, Nongbri describes how medieval European Christians inserted the notion of “religion” into ancient texts by translating as that term words which had other meanings in the original languages. [note 3]

In addition, whether they were considering cultures of the ancient world, such as Greece or Rome, or groups in their own time which practiced what they saw as heretical versions of Christianity (including, surprisingly, Judaism and Islam), they did as Henry Lord did with India and sought phenomena to fit into the expected categories of “religion.”

Second, Nongbri reveals how Reformation and Renaissance thought drastically changed Christian Europe’s conceptualization of the whole cluster of cultural phenomena which we now group under the heading of “religion.” Driving this shift was the change in the nature of European governance during the 16th and 17th centuries. During “religious wars” of that era, princes and leaders increasingly embraced the notion of “religion” as separate from “politics.

By the late 17th century, John Locke, a “prominent voice in the domestic and international affairs of the British government” (100), was describing “religion” [note 4] as

purely a matter of the salvation of the individual…. Whereas the medieval church had been conceived of largely “as an inviolably holy body, possessed of unchallengeable, because divine, authority,” Locke presented the church, or rather churches, as much more circumscribed entities….

The church was now a voluntary assembly of individuals who gather together for the sole purpose of obtaining salvation. Any gathering for this purpose ought to be tolerated by the civil authorities, provided that the participants played by the rules of the game, the most important of which was, do not disturb the functions of the state. (102)

That rule, “do not disturb the functions of the state,” is crucial in Locke’s schema. “Religion” is to be strictly a private matter, perhaps shared collectively by groups of believers, yet never to have a say in the legal or moral life of the state. For Locke, “religions” were convenient tools for socializing and controlling the behavior of their “members”—so long as they did not interfere with the commercial and colonial interests of nations.

By the 19th century, thinkers such as Rudolph Otto and William James had completed the redefinition of “religion” as being about private, internal experience, not about shared ethnic phenomena which are part of defining a people. In this new conceptualization, “each individual religion is celebrated for its uniqueness, and all are thought to be legitimate paths to individual ‘salvation’ or ‘liberation’ or ‘self-realization’.” (130)

Letting Go of “Religion”

A theme which Nongbri presents early in his book is that modern Westerners tend think to religion is “just there,” that religion is a human universal. What he hopes for us to learn from his work is that “religion” is a historically recent concept which we have extended outwardly through space and backwards through time.

In the natural way of all humans, we mistake the categories which we have learned or created for actual descriptions of reality, rather than remembering that they are artificial boundaries—redescriptions—marking out the patterns which our cultures and our own beliefs have seduced our brains into “seeing.”

What Nongbri wants us to be able to do is to see the phenomena themselves, to lay aside our categories so that we might recognize how other people, other cultures, organize their own narratives of interaction with the sacred.

Then, instead of seeking something to label as their “religion,” we might notice that the ancient Greeks, for example, organized their corporate rituals and belief systems around ancestral tradition. The ancient Romans organized theirs around what celebrated and preserved what they perceived as Roman ethnicity. And both the Christians and the Muslims organize theirs around heresiology, around the contentious question of who is worshiping correctly.

Using “Religion”

With this new openness and freedom of perception, Nongbri believes that we could then still use “religion” as a redescriptive term, employed in its mundane sense “to discuss things involving gods or other superhuman beings and the technologies for interacting with such beings.” (157)

We could, for example, focus our attention on the ways in which government entities such as the Supreme Court

determine what does and does not get to count as religion…. What sorts of interests are involved in such decisions? Who is doing the defining and why?

In other words, a good focus for those who would study “religion” in the modern day is keeping an eye on the activity of defining religion and the act of saying that some things are “religions” and others are not. (155)

We could also use the redescriptive approach to ask

“Can we see anything new and interesting about phenomenon X by considering it, for the purpose of study, as a religion?” Take the example of capitalism…. [We] might ask different questions, such as “How might we understand human behavior differently if we, as a thought exercise, regard capitalism as a religion?” (155-56)

"Ebenezer," by Mike Shell


What would happen if we were able to let go of “religion” as a descriptive category?

Perhaps we would become more able to see clearly—and to appreciate and value, without necessarily embracing—what other people, other peoples, regard as sacred. Perhaps we would become more able to allow others their different narratives of interaction and interrelationship with the sacred.

We would not have to either agree or disagree with their narratives. We would simply ponder the sacred itself and, perhaps, learn from without having to gauge the truth of other people’s narratives.

And so it is.

Blessèd Be,


1. Nongbri writes: “The name ‘Banian’ most likely derives (by way of the Portuguese and Arabic) from the Gujarati word vāṇiyo, a person of the merchant or trading class.” (208)

2. “The term hindu, which is itself ancient, was derived from the local name of the Indus river and was a geographical identifier, referring to people or things from India.” (110)

3. Latin religio, Greek thrēskeia and Arabic dīn, for example, each went through a range of connotations across the centuries, but none of them meant what modern English speakers mean by “religion.” Latin religio was used by the playwright Pautus in the 2nd century BCE to mean “scruples”; by Cicero in the 1st century BCE to mean “divine and human rules”; by the north African Christian Tertullian in the 3rd century CE to mean “worship,” “rite” or “reverence”; and by Augustine, northern African bishop of Hippo in the 4th-5th centuries CE, to mean “worship.”

4. In a tract entitled Letter Concerning Toleration.

Image sources

Cover of Before Religion: A History of a Modern Concept, by Brent Nongbri (2013).

Frontispiece of A Discoverie of the Sect of the Banians, first volume of A Display of Two Forraigne Sects, by Henry Lord (1630).

Sculpture of the Dance of Shiva, from the blog, Wonder, silence, gratitude.

Ebenezer,” by Mike Shell. When my late mother moved to Florida from South Carolina after 40 years in her church choir, the members gave her this copy of the stained glass cross in the altar window.

Originally published on Quaker Universalist Conversations, 6/13/2014.

Stephan Finlan is pastor of Mathewson Street United Methodist Church, Providence, Rhode Island. He has taught theology at Fordham, Drew, Seton Hall, and Durham Universities. He is author of The Apostle Paul and the Pauline Tradition (2008), Options on Atonement (2007), and Problems with Atonement (2005).

The follow is an excerpt from The Family Metaphor in Jesus’ Teaching (2009; 2nd ed., 2013).

Why is it that religions seem to evolve so slowly, and to perpetuate so much superstition and hostility to other religions? It is partly the fact that religion is always deeply involved in the values and traditions of particular groups, and so with the defining of social boundaries and the rejection of out-groups and out-group characteristics, as a function of group survival. But there is more, having to do with the boundaries of human consciousness, which makes religion the arena for the deep, the delusional, the imaginary, and the uncertain.

Religion often explores the marginal, the outrageous, the horrifying, the unbearable, and the unreachable. But these explorations are not always healthy. They express everything that is in the religious heart: fear, imagination, desire for prestige, the quest for meaning, the impulse to escape, truth-hunger, moral insight, spiritual hope, intimations of immortality.

Religion is a storehouse of good and evil, of maturation and of failure to mature, of vision and of obsession. But the religious life of Jesus shows an instinct for moral unification and love, based on trust in the watchcare of the heavenly Father.

Carl Heinrich Bloch - Suffer the ChildrenWe see the sanity of Jesus in all his interactions with people, his impatience with pompous and unloving teachers, his outrage with hypocrites, and his gentleness with people who had been wounded by life, even if they were not ideal models of family life—the woman at the well (John 4:7-27), the woman caught in adultery (John 8:1-11), the blind beggar (Mark 10:46-52), the woman who anointed his feet (Luke 7:37-48).

Jesus’ revelation is not just his teachings, but his life of trust and familiarity with God, which led to a life with others that was devoid of fear and coercion. “Do not be afraid” was virtually the watchword of his religious life—a religion without psychopathology. (92-93)

And so it is.

Blessèd Be,

Michael Austin Shell:

Worth sharing.

Originally posted on Shambhala Blog:

Book cover In many cases, the philosophers have gone wrong by trying to find out the truth of the matter concerning the way things are, rather than relating with things in terms of perception. If we theorize about the experience of the world, its solidity, its eternality, and so on, we block a very large chunk of our own experience. What we experience in our everyday life situation does not have to be confirmed by theory or proved. It does not depend on anything of that nature. It is simply a matter of everyday experience from minute to minute.

From ?Three Aspects of Perception? in Orderly Chaos: The Mandala Principle by Chgyam Trungpa, page 133

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Abba Jacob and The Theologian
by Marilyn Nelson

Thanking him for spending
the entire afternoon
and half the dinner hour
discussing the various ramifications
of the essentially paradoxical nature
of faith,
the theologian interrupts her first
spoonful of lentils
to lean forward again
and cut off
the flow of God.
Reverend Father, she asks,
what is the highest spiritual value?

Marilyn Nelson, age 4







Abba Jacob looks to heaven
and groans.
Humor, he says.
Not seriously, of course.


Originally published in Magnificat (1994)
Republished in The Fields of Praise (1997)
Image: Marilyn age 4, photo: Melvin M. Nelson, Sr.

Stephen Jay Gould

Our mind works largely by metaphor and comparison, not always (or even often) by relentless logic. When we are caught in conceptual traps, the best exit is often a change in metaphor—not because the new guideline will be truer to nature...but because we need a shift to more fruitful perspectives, and metaphor is often the best agent for conceptual transition. (264)

Bully for Brontosaurus: Reflections in Natural History


On Attribution

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I license my own online work through Creative Commons.

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