A Path with a Heart

I grew up in a church and a denomination that took the Bible literally and considered the Bible to be the ultimate authority. In Sunday School, teachers told wonderful stories using flannel graphs and chalk boards. We built arks and houses out of pop sickle sticks and cardboard boxes.

These images still linger in my memory. The gift was that I learned the stories of the Bible. Many of them are almost second nature to me. The difficulty for us as children came because there was no room to think for ourselves. It was indoctrination. Either believe it or leave it.

During my life, many of these early tapes running in my head have caused occasional challenges.

I remember one story about one of the prophets who refused to bow to the king.

The teacher put up a flannel figure of a chariot with a king, claiming to be a god. Then a graph with a group of people bowing on their knees. Head on the ground. And then a graph of a prophet, standing and turning his back. As the story developed, the prophet was arrested for refusing to bow. Under pressure, but still, the prophet refused to bow. He would bow only to God.

The point of the lesson, as I remember it, was: do not bow down to anyone! That’s like worshiping another human being. Stand firm before people, and kneel in prayer only for God.

I ran into trouble with this when, as a young man, I took up an interest in martial arts.

When you enter the dojo, you are expected to bow. And, you bow to the instructor before class.

Especially in Judo: you bow before stepping onto the mat; you bow to the referee; you bow to your opponent both before and after the match. There is formal instruction on how to bow … Ritsu Rei, standing bow. Za Rei, kneeling bow. It is precise, and done with dignified. And all the time, these old tapes kept running in my mind -- about this old prophet refusing to bow.

Am I really supposed to be doing this? I thought that maybe if I crossed my fingers, it wouldn’t count. I thought, maybe, if I didn’t go down too deeply, I’d be OK with the class, and still not get into too much trouble with the Above.

It took a growing familiarity with Asian cultures to work through this dissonance.

In Western cultures, bowing was hierarchical, a way of submitting to higher authority. Like in a pack of wolves, the one who submits rolls over and exposes his neck. The dominant wolf stands over him, showing his teeth and growling. Bowing was symbolically exposing the neck to the sword.

In Eastern cultures', bowing, as we learned in the dojo, is a sign of mutual respect. And in ashrams, monasteries, and temples, much more than this. It is like a sacramental ritual that embodies a spiritual significance. Bearing in mind that a sacrament is an enacted and embodied symbol that rehearses for us God’s saving Grace.

Namaste: the God that dwells in me communes with the God that dwells in you. A greeting … and a greeting that defines a relationship, putting it in a holy context. What a powerful sacrament for expressing the ideal and import of Christian Incarnation!

In Hinduism, they recognize Brahman and Atman.

And by the way, I feel a little funny every time I use that word, "Hinduism." It’s like Christians saying "Old Testament" when referring to the whole "Hebrew Bible." "Hinduism" is a British term for the collective religions of India. Labeling things like this is a European way of summing them up, and characterizing them. Such terms and definitions seldom represent the full depths, dynamics and complexities. We forget that our understandings are forever incomplete.

Brahman, Creator of the Universe, and Atman, the Spirit of this Creator within. In mediation, this union is symbolized with the "Yana Mudra," where the thumb, Brahman, touches the forefinger, Atman, the God within. This is yoga, the ultimate goal of the practice, the yoking the two. The gesture reminds the communicate of a deep spiritual reality.

That’s meditation. In relationship, the same thing is Namaste. The bow. It’s like a prayer … "May this encounter, this relationship, result in the Creative God in me meeting with the Creative God in you." If that happens, the relationship is good, and the outcome is good. If that does not happen, things can turn out badly.

Both Judaism and Christianity lift up a verse from the Genesis story to say this. "God created people in God’s own image. Male and female, God created them." In Christianity, this became known as the "Imago Dei." We are the image of God.

At a Bar Mitzvah, Bat Mitzvah, five adults who became Jews later in life wanted to claim this experience. They went through the program. I knew one of them, and she invited me to the ceremony: a truly amazing and inspiring experience.

It seems each had to come up with a way of expressing his or her Judaism. This individual took the four-letter name of God, Yod-Heh-Vov-Heh, and placed the letters one upon another. She pointed out how the figure looked like a human being -- head, shoulders and arms, body, hips and legs.

She went on to explain that when we look at another person, we see the Ha-Sheem, the Holy Name of God. And when our consciousness gets to a place where we can look at another person and behold the Name of God … that is when peace on earth begins. And I thought to myself, WOW! I know of no better explanation of Christian Incarnation than that.

I was in a seminar with Joseph Fletcher, once. He authored the concept of Situation Ethics, which has had a great influence on my own learning. He made an observation that has teased my mind ever since. He said that the real dialogue between Christianity and world religions is between Christianity and Buddhism.

I’ve opened a few books since then, and am amazed at the parallels. Both have an annunciation: The angel Gabriel came to Mary, the mother of Jesus. An elephant approached Queen Maya in a dream to announce the birth of the Buddha. Both have legends of a miracle birth: Jesus, born of a virgin. Maya, when she gave birth, the trees bent down and embraced her. Both have miracle stories of their childhood. Both were wandering preachers with a band of followers. Both had their wilderness testing. Both had challenges before reaching transcendence, Jesus was crucified before his resurrection, Buddha fought with the temptress before his enlightenment.

But what is most significant is that both religions, Christianity and Buddhism, hold up their founder as the Incarnate Embodiment of the Beyond. And the goal of both faiths is to realize this embodiment. Having the "Nous Christos," or "Mind of Christ" within, or to realize one’s "Buddha Nature."

In both faiths, it all begins with "humility," the "bow."

Over this last week, I’ve watched the "500 Nations" series, narrated by Kevin Costner. It brings a tear to the eye when we consider "Wounded Knee," or how De Soto pillaged his way up from Florida, or how disease decimated native populations.

I ponder, what motivates such wanton destruction of human life and liberty. It was done for gold and power and political reasons, but it was also done to force native people to convert to Christianity. It comes down to when one people feels superior to another people.

I’ve heard "racism" defined in this way. When one people feel superior to another people.

I’ve come to believe that human oppression and community hurts emerge from such. When, for whatever reason, one person or cause feels superior to another.

The antidote, of course, is the bow. Whether literally or in spirit. To recognize the fundamental spiritual equality of our souls.

For if the Creative Spirit of God lies in the other person … then: We would genuinely love others as much as we love ourselves. And we would want to protect the other from hurt or harm, as much as we would want to stay safe and balance.

One thing I learned from my younger years in martial arts is that the single most difficult skill to learn is the Ritsu Rei. The standing bow.

For no one can learn anything unless this is done in spirit. Humility before a teacher.

And the teacher, the sensei or sifu, always bows back. Humility and a willingness to learn … even from the student.

I admire this in the Tibetan tradition. The willingness to take a child into the temple … elevates him to the position of a lama … and then learns profound wisdom form the subtlest of gestures.

Spiritual growth begins with the sacrament of a bow. Literally or in spirit. For with this, community is built and made strong. For with this, growth and mutual respect is fostered.

And only with this, can God’s creativity move through us and come to fruition.

There is a piece of God in each person we encounter. It hides below egos and beyond our battles. Whether an acquaintance of a stranger. Whether an individual or collectively, another race or culture. Whether good friends or our most intimate enemy.