The few lines of today's Merton Monday are deceptively simple; the ideas of "true" self and "false" self may not, in the end, cover all the bases. At the very least, I think the false self can be broken into false selves as far as I tend to view it. And then there's the idea in my mind that all this disunity within me, this propensity to foster the disunity by breaking things down, is a (if not the) problem. At the very least, walking a path of discovering one's "true" self in God involves not only casting false selves aside, but also integrating them—or parts of them—into a whole. In other words, part of my true self is the very fact that false selves tend to exist within me; I cannot ignore them, pretend they don't exist. I must recognize them and—in a certain sense and for a certain moment in my life—accept them. After all, there's no way to acknowledge them, to identify them, to bid them farewell, unless I first agree that they exist and then converse with them. And most likely, it is only some aspect of my true self that can accomplish this. Just thinking out loud for a minute.

What I like most about this Merton Monday is the idea of the immense tension which exists between the humility to be ourselves and the pride of our false self (or selves). Merton is correct that this is a struggle of heroic proportions. The idea of it reminds me of intuitions I feel when I'm around other people. At one end of the spectrum are folks who are totally immersed in false selves (their own and those of other people). At the other end are the rare breed who seem to have found their true self and are amazingly humble and peaceful. In the middle is all the rest of us. Toward the people along this spectrum, I confess, I hold various opinions and feel various emotions. I feel compassion for those who are so mired in falsehood they don't even think about truth. I am amazed by those few who seem to have found their true selves. Honestly, I think the ones I just can't stand are those who are fully bound up in falsehood yet spend their time proudly proclaiming it to be the singular Truth. And honestly, I think the ones I identify with the most are those who at some level understand the struggle and are fighting gallantly, against the whole world, to win it. Some of them appear as total freaks to the rest of the world, but I really think that many of them are attempting something quite noble—whether they fully realize it or not. The role of humility in this latter case is to recognize that being considered a freak may at times be necessary—unavoidable, even—in the quest for truth, but it is not an end in itself. Being a freak for the sake of being a freak is a pride which is just as ignoble and ugly as any other of its more common, accepted forms.

Continuing my previous post, here's quite a long ramble concerning the "complication" I mentioned…

To look at a person or a group who claims to be Christian, and to say the religion practiced thereby is "not much of a Christianity" because it is divisive, is a dicey stand to take. It is to create a sort of division, seems contradictory, and some might even say is hypocritical. I think it's fair to say that it is not a clearly defensible position to take, similar to saying, "I accept everybody except those who can't accept other people," or, "I believe (absolutely) that all things are relative." I'm well aware of this, and by and large I have long struggled, and continue to struggle, to not draw lines and to be very careful not to take stands which divide. The problem is, there isn't any way to have convictions for one's life without drawing lines and taking stands somewhere, and to draw lines and take stands means that sometimes you make claims that divide. By the way, I should mention that while this probably seems as obvious as the sun in the sky to most of you, it's something that I've really had a hard time with. Perhaps I've just gotten high-centered in my thinking somewhere back in a long ago, and let's not forget personal psychology; I just don't like causing conflict and I'm a bit of a cowardly little thing. So. What to do?

All of this is wrapped up in a realm of general fear, foreboding and mystique in Christian religion; the idea of "judging" other people:

Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor's eye.—Matthew 7:1-5 (NRSV)

I have to note that I've noticed a great number of Christians who, in my opinion, pretty much fail at this injunction. Judgment seems to be high on their can-do list, ranging from judging a person's entire worldview all the way down to attitudes revealed via common gossip: "Do you know what he said she said? Can you believe that? What kind of a person says something like that?" Even at the small scale this is judging in a certain sense, and not just judging, but reveling in the act of it; it's a sad curiosity that sometimes Christians form social bonds based upon shared judgment against others. But, part of my problem is that I've never gotten it straight in my mind as to just what "judge" is supposed to mean. I use the word, I talk about the concept in argument, but what exactly does it mean? Does it mean simply on emotional human terms, does it mean judging facts, behaviors, beliefs, eternal salvation or what? Does it mean I don't like somebody, that I disagree with them, or what? To my mind those forms of judgment—disagreement and (dis)affection—are natural and acceptable. But often we use the word in the area of judging whether a person is "good or bad." I'm not sure this clarifies the issue at all; we never well define what "good" and "bad" mean, but the implication is that we consider them morally inferior to ourselves. I seriously doubt that Jesus would approve of this. We use the word "judge" more definitively in terms of a person's "eternity status," as in, "Yep, that one over there is going to hell for sure if he doesn't change his ways," and that sort of thing. I also seriously doubt that Jesus would approve of this usage, and in fact I'm convinced that he would not. Now, most Christians will say they're judging behavior and acts, not people and souls. To do this is a pretty supportable idea Biblically; it's okay to say that murder is wrong, and you can do it without casting judgment on whether the murderer is morally inferior or going to hell. But the truth is, I'm not sure that the majority of Christians make the distinction.

There's another factor that has long confused me, too. Look at what Jesus says, according to Matthew, in the following invective:

Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, "The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses' seat; therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them. They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. They love to have the place of honor at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have people call them rabbi. But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father—the one in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah. The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted. But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you lock people out of the kingdom of heaven. For you do not go in yourselves, and when others are going in, you stop them. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you cross sea and land to make a single convert, and you make the new convert twice as much a child of hell as yourselves. Woe to you, blind guides, who say, 'Whoever swears by the sanctuary is bound by nothing, but whoever swears by the gold of the sanctuary is bound by the oath. ' You blind fools! For which is greater, the gold or the sanctuary that has made the gold sacred? And you say, 'Whoever swears by the altar is bound by nothing, but whoever swears by the gift that is on the altar is bound by the oath.' How blind you are! For which is greater, the gift or the altar that makes the gift sacred? So whoever swears by the altar, swears by it and by everything on it; and whoever swears by the sanctuary, swears by it and by the one who dwells in it; and whoever swears by heaven, swears by the throne of God and by the one who is seated upon it. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others. You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel! Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the plate, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. You blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup, so that the outside also may become clean. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which on the outside look beautiful, but inside they are full of the bones of the dead and of all kinds of filth. So you also on the outside look righteous to others, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you build the tombs of the prophets and decorate the graves of the righteous, and you say, 'If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, we would not have taken part with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.' Thus you testify against yourselves that you are descendants of those who murdered the prophets. Fill up, then, the measure of your ancestors. You snakes, you brood of vipers! How can you escape being sentenced to hell?" Matthew 23:1-33 (NRSV)

For a person who said do not judge, and for a person who said he was not here to judge the world, Jesus obviously held a strong stand concerning the behavior of these people and—seemingly—their state in the face of God. At first blush, if he wasn't judging them in some way, I don't know what I should call it. So I've long asked myself, "If Jesus said don't judge, isn't he violating his own idea here? Isn't this inconsistent?" But, I think there's a fairly obvious connection or two between the two passages: first of all, in three words, "Pride is bad." Working it out in relation to these passages, if you think about it, pride is at the root of casting judgment, it's at the root of placing yourself above others, it's at the root of condemning others, and it's at the root of hypocrisy. (Admittedly, my conclusion comes as no great surprise, since I believe strongly that pride is the root of all our human problems, so my take on these passages may be more than a bit biased.)

Pride causes us to view ourselves in relation to other people rather than in relation to God. I really tend to believe that Jesus understood that what is good or bad about a person at the most fundamental levels is known only by God. Furthermore, the knowledge between individual and God is the only one that matters. To judge another in a moral sense is to manifest the fact that you are placing yourself in the place of God. Being hypocritical manifests that you are worried about how others see you, about your appearance in their eyes, rather than about how you stand in relationship with God. In short, judging others and hypocrisy are both signs that we have our focus all wrong. Both indicate that we have adopted a person-to-person view of life, rather than a God-to-person view of life. We have failed to understand that all human interrelations are person-to-God-to-person. We have pushed God aside, and attempted to usurp God's position as God. I think this is what steamed Jesus so greatly about the scribes and Pharisees. They talked a great deal about God, but didn't have room for God. All they had room for was placing themselves alongside others, with themselves in the superior position. Jesus just couldn't stand for this. He drew a line. It is very interesting to note that overall in Jesus' ministry he accepted the humble people, some of whom were tax collectors, prostitutes, drunks and the like. But he drew the line at pride.

As to the second connection between the passages, a fair question to ask would be, "So in this case, Jesus didn't seem to allow for the God-person relationship with the scribes and Pharisees. He stepped right in and judged them." Well, apparently, yes, unless one would allow for a view I consider likely. Note that Jesus in the earlier passage says that we ourselves determine the measure of judgment that is poured out upon us. Could it be that Jesus is saying, "Given that you people condemn others based upon a system that you yourself fail to fulfill, given that you are guilty of those things you claim sentence one to hell, then how can you avoid being sentenced to it yourself?" In other words, Jesus wasn't himself judging the scribes and Pharisees; his point was that they were guilty under the standards of judgment they wielded against others. The hypocrites judged themselves, and he was merely pointing it out. While I admit that the felt need to find some consistency between the two passages is mostly a matter of the western modernity's influences in my mind, I consider this analysis to be reasonable enough to be considered seriously. If it is in anyway correct, then there is a contemporary counterpart to it that should be considered, most of all by Christians who are doctrinally legalistic.

There are Christians who claim that believing the "correct" Christian doctrine is absolutely essential to salvation. I'm not saying they simply believe you have to have the Trinity, Immaculate Conception and Resurrection correct. I'm saying they believe things like, oh, if you have a kitchen in your church building, or you play an organ while you sing hymns, or you get the roles of men and women in church mixed up, you're doomed. Needless to say, if you're of a different denomination than they, or perhaps a different congregation of the same denomination, well, you're doomed. I've actually had a conversation with a guy that went like this:

Me: So, are you saying that the people in your church are the only ones going to Heaven?

Him: Oh no. I wouldn't say that. The Bible says we aren't to judge others. But I will say that only people who follow the Bible correctly are going to Heaven. I believe the Bible teaches this quite clearly.

Me: So would you say, though, that only your church follows the Bible correctly?

Him: Well, yes. That's why I'm here in this church.

Me: So you're saying that your church is the only ones going to Heaven?

Him: No. I didn't say that.

Well… yeah, he did. And he's not alone. What's most unsettling about this view is that if you ask somebody who is deeply committed to it, "But what about those people who are humble of heart in following a different doctrine? Won't they be saved in the end by a loving God who reads the hearts of men?" they will answer, "No. I know that sounds like it would be nice, but the Bible teaches that 'there is a way that seems right to man, yet leads to destruction,' and, 'Many people will say to me on that day, Lord, didn't we prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and I will say them to them, Away from me, for I never knew you'." There is no room in these people's minds for being mistaken about what the Bible "really teaches." So, to put things into their frame of reference, wherein a person meets God on Judgment Day and accounts for one's life, it seems to me it would have to go something like this: (1) Since they have said that correct doctrine is essential (the key) to salvation, God will use doctrine to judge them. (2) Obviously, their doctrine is imperfect (as is true of all doctrines), so they deserve to perish. (3) In response, a loving God could and would accept them in Grace and Mercy anyway, based upon humility of heart in their beliefs and upon their love for Him alone, but ... (4) They themselves have said this counts for nothing. Their bad. In this hypothetical scenario, such people would stand condemned, and solely by their own standards; not God's. To my mind, this is essentially why Jesus presented the scribes and Pharisees with a bleak and tragic outlook. They had created this same situation for themselves, and Jesus was stating the obvious. But I digress a bit.

My point? Drawing lines and taking stands are things to do—things we must do—between ourselves and God. Yes, they affect how we live and what we judge as right or wrong for ourselves. They sometimes divide us from others in beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors. But are the lines we draw to be lines for other men and women as well? I think not. I think those lines are their business, between them and God. It is okay to disagree with some people. It is okay to not like some people. But it is not okay to presume the ultimate moral state of another, nor his or her ultimate standing in relation to God. Nor is it okay to hate. So, when I spoke in the previous post about divisive forms of Christianity "not being much a Christianity," I meant it. I take that stand. But in making such a statement, be it clear that I'm disagreeing with doctrine; namely doctrine that denies entrance to God's Kingdom from those who humbly desire to be a part of it. Perhaps I am also going so far as to not like some of my fellow Christians. But as for their ultimate moral state and ultimate standing with God? As far as I can tell, they're right here with me, as equals, in strength and weakness, in wisdom and foolishness, for good and for bad, warts and all. Who am I to deny them the Kingdom? I cannot and would not. Thanks be to God, who is no respecter of persons and accepts all of us who remain humble before him in all our disparate—and undoubtedly flawed—beliefs. May God rid me of all my pride, and keep me safe in an ever maturing humility.