I am continuing a sermon series on Christology. I am asking who is Jesus and what did he do? The Uniting Church stands in the Protestant tradition which placed the death of Christ at the centre of its ‘protest’ against the Roman Catholic Church. So it is important, I think, to look at the various ways in which the atonement, meaning of his death, has been interpreted in the church. It is not surprising that there are various theories since the New Testament does not speak with ‘one voice’.

Since the beginning of humanity: How many people have lived and died? I asked Dr Google who estimated 117 billion. How many lives have been really significant? Just a few, maybe Ghandi and Nelson Mandela in recent years? How many deaths have had significance? Even less. There have been martyrs for a cause, but only one death has changed western civilization.

I am continuing a sermon series on Christology. I am asking who is Jesus and what did he do? The Uniting Church stands in the Protestant tradition which placed the death of Christ at the centre of its ‘protest’ against the Roman Catholic Church. So it is important, I think, to look at the various ways in which the atonement, meaning of his death, has been interpreted in the church. It is not surprising that there are various theories since the New Testament does not speak with ‘one voice’.

I will now briefly outline some theories of the atonement:

• Christ’s example and moral influence.

This rests on the whole of Christ’s life and not just his death. It includes his teachings. In the cross we see a martyr’s death, it is self-sacrifice and we are inspired to follow his example. Peter Abelard (d. 1142) is a theologian who is associated with this view. A verse that illustrates this would be Ephesians 5:25, “Husbands love your wives as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” The idea of moral influence has universal appeal and an almost every Christian would agree that Christ provides a perfect example of Christian living.

• Ransom Theory

This theory has more of a focus on the effect of Christ’s death. The context is slavery which was practised throughout the Roman Empire. A slave’s life was not his or her own and could only be made free at great cost. Jesus said about his ministry, “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:48)The idea of a ransom associated with Christ’s death is mentioned a few times in the New Testament. Later theologians such as Origen (d. 253) developed, what I think is a somewhat fanciful idea, that Adam and Eve by their sin ‘sold’ humanity to the devil and so God had to pay a ransom to free us. But the idea of Christ’s sacrifice to set us free was to have enormous influence over the centuries.

• Christus Victor

That Christ was the victor over Satan and demonic powers was the dominant view for most of the early church until about the 12^th century. Christ died to defeat the powers of evil which includes sin, death and the devil. Hebrews 2:14 about Jesus, “so that through his death, he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is the devil.” The idea of a cosmic battle is seen most vividly in Revelation the last book in the NT. The theologian most associated with this is Gustaf Aulen (d. 1977) in the 20^th century.  Theologians in the early church adopted some bizarre imagery arguing that Jesus was the bait on a mousetrap to trap Satan. But is not necessary to go to bizarre lengths, since a restrained view of it informs the earliest liturgy for the Holy Communion (which we have used at GUC in the Hippolitian Rite).  I believe this theme is very relevant to the political and spiritual battle of the church against powers of evil.

• Satisfaction and penal substitution

Many contemporary Christians find this viewpoint ugly and even an offence to the idea of a loving God. The idea of the justice of God requiring satisfaction was argued in the writings of Anselm (d 1107). This is the first theory that brings up a notion that the death of Christ affects God the Father. But there are verses to support this, for example St Paul “For our sake, he made him to be sin who knew no sin, that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

The reformers Luther (d. 1546) and Calvin (d. 1535) developed what is been called the penal substitution theory which has more of a legal focus. The idea is that the death of Christ satisfies God’s wrath against humanity’s sin and Jesus took our punishment upon himself. Again, there are verses to support this in the NT, “He has passed over sins” (Romans 3:25-26). It is interesting that the New Testament sometimes combines what we would see as separate theories, for example Colossians 2:14-15, “God forgives us all our trespasses, cancelling the debt that stood against us with its legal demands. He set this aside nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them.” So substitution, ransom and Christus Victor. There is also a theory of the atonement called the Governmental which is associated with Methodist church and is close to the substitutionary but argues that Christ died for only those in the church. I think that is important to acknowledge that the New Testament links the death of Christ to the unwarranted favour of God towards us through grace. You don’t have to be a fundamentalist to believe that!

• Scapegoat theory

This is a very recent view associated with the French intellectual and Roman Catholic scholar René Gerrard. It is a theory of nonviolent atonement in which Jesus is not a sacrifice but a victim. It argues that God’s way of overcoming human violence was to substitute himself as a victim. This view has attracted a lot of interest and if you are theologically inclined, then this is an interesting perspective.

---

Invite questions from congregation:

---

Conclusion

Thankfully we are not saved by theories. We are saved by Jesus Christ. It is the who that matters, not the how. Notice the way that the Gospel of John expressed it, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16).

I believe it is possible to draw two conclusions from my brief survey. First, the biblical witness to the meaning of Christ’s death is complex and not easily resolved in one viewpoint. I think this gives us freedom to move and space for creativity. The last word on the meaning of Christ’s death is yet to be heard. Second, the death of Christ remains important in the church because in a mysterious way it changed the relationship of God to humanity. However, we understand it, we experience undeserved grace and divine favour. And that is good news!

---

Rev Dr Bruce Stevens is the supply minister at Gungahlin Uniting Church.

Images by Sweet Publishing / FreeBibleimages.org

JJ Hamilton

In the lectionary, today is called Christ the King Sunday. It’s the last Sunday before advent. Which mostly means that you have one more week before you have to be worried that you’re Not Ready For Christmas.

And because the liturgical year starts with advent, that makes this (in some ways) the last week of the year.

So if you’re willing, let’s put our reflecting hats on. Last week was the church’s AGM. We reflected on our community, its struggles and successes over the last year. The Annual Report came out, and in its preparation I am sure many of you thought deeply about the year past.

We also elected and affirmed our church council for the new year.We considered our hopes for the year to come.Circles are like that of course – the ending is the beginning, so in all our reflection we also look forward.

One of today’s readings was the praises of Zechariah after the birth of John. Meanwhile, back on December 5th of 2021 we heard Mary’s song, from the same chapter, celebrating her pregnancy. We are back full circle. We are back here, again, ready for advent, for that joyous waiting.

And for this reflection, for the closing week of the liturgical year we are presented with the reminder: Christ is King.

When we are reflecting on key moments of the year, it might be striking to recall that we in fact did get a new King. A less divine one. And so for the first time in this country in a lot of our lifetimes, a King who is not Jesus is back in charge.

I don’t know about you but the term king has definitely had a pretty metaphorical role to me. Kings are for chess boards, for fantasy novels, for Sunday School – stomping around the room to Colin Bunchannan’s Servant King.

In a constitutional monarchy in the Commonwealth in 2022, the King doesn’t feel very in charge. Good Old Charlie feels a lot like a figurehead. A historical remnant. This isn’t a segue to republicanism, but to note that kings, generally, feel very distant from my life. King Charles specifically feels like a symbol not a power. But if Charlie feels like a figurehead, what would it mean to feel like you had a King?

And building from that, does Jesus feel like a King in your life or a figurehead?

When we talk about the Kingdom of God, we can blur a few ideas. We can blur the concept of heaven, of an afterlife, of rapture, apocalypse and rebirth. We can talk about Christians in this world here and now. About community, about the communion of saints. We can talk about the whole world, under God’s domain. I think there is value to allowing these definitions to blur.

In the same way that reflecting on the year flows into reflecting on all the time before that, and where that year came from, and then looking forward to reflect on where we are headed, I think there is value to allowing the Kingdom of God to cover all these ideas. To reflect on what was, and is, and is to come.

One of the best sermons I’ve heard on the kingdom of God was not a sermon really. It was a 5 minute reflection by a camp director at one of the 7am meetings we would hold while the campers were still asleep. He said that the hope of heaven is that the kingdom of God transforms us. Of God’s refining fire that causes us to shed our earthly imperfections. I am sure we have heard that take before.

And he stressed that those imperfections may not be the things we want to shed. He imagined that he would be recreated without his ambition. He told us that he largely likes his ambition, that it makes him better at his job, that this drive is a part of him that he enjoys and is rewarded for. But that when he thought about it further, it probably was not at place in the kingdom of God.

Which led to some discomfort. Would he recognise himself without it? How changed could he be and still really be himself? Are any of us ourselves without our fundamentally human flaws?

I liked this, because he modeled an honest fear that to be a citizen under Christ the King means to lose ourselves. It can be easy, and prideful, to argue that something you see in yourself is not a flaw. It is much harder to say “this is a flaw, but do I like it, and other people like it, and I like that.”

On the flip side, there are some things it can be easy to wish for God to refine away. This year I read a couple of valuable books about disability. One specifically concerned disability justice in the church. It was called “my body is not a prayer request” by Amy Kenny, and is a call to action by a disabled Christian that all churches be better equipped to seek justice in our treatment of her, our treatment of others with disabilities, and our understanding of what it means to be whole, divine, and chosen by God. To be one of God’s people.

Simply due to my age, I am aware that I would be one of the more physically able members of this congregation. And that if I stand here and talk about disability and age and death I am definitely speaking above my station. As always, please let me know if I miss something important, or say something wrong; I would love to hear the expertise of the lives that surround us.

In her book, Amy asks us to question the assumption that King Jesus would refine away disability. She asks: What does it mean to think of your body as whole and good? And in pain? And elderly? And disabled? Does our theology allow for us to hold real, pained, imperfect bodies as whole and good? As the true bodies of citizens of the Kingdom of God?

Two weeks ago, before I’d made myself re-read the lectionary verses for this week or even started to consider what I might speak on today, my Nanna died. She was 92, and quite sick, and so this was not a surprise, and was in some ways a relief. Of course, my feelings about her and the funeral I attended on Thursday will permeate what I have to say today.

Dorothea Swindon, nee Devine was my family matriarch. She is the origin of my love of plants and birds, and the troughline for faith in our family.

Nanna’s death crept up on us. For the last few years, every Christmas I have felt “it is important to be with family this christmas, it could be Nanna’s last”. In April of 2020, when she was turning 90, the family was meant to fly her to Tasmania, where her youngest son lives, to celebrate her birthday together. A last hurrah!

By April of 2020, of course, COVID border closures stopped that plan. Nanna got through Melbourne lockdowns, periods of isolation, and some stays in hospital, and last christmas we completed that last hurrah Tasmania trip. When I reflect on last advent, it is the organisation of this trip that stands out in my mind.

I am extremely grateful for the time I got with her, and the time to mourn her together with my family this week. There was much reflection, circling back over the many years in the life of a great woman. Finding themes of creativity, imagination, sharp wittedness, debate, and pride.

The cycling of the liturgical year is interesting because it doesn’t spiral from Jesus’s birth to death. Easter is quite early, all things considered. But the verses we are working with today do speak to Jesus’s death. Even more so, the fourth reading which we did not cover, is Jesus on the cross speaking to the two thieves. Most of us here today are well churched enough to know how the story of Jesus’s spiraling life goes. As summarised in the apostles creed:

I believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only begotten Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the Holy Ghost, and born of the virgin, Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into Hell. On the third day He rose again from the dead, ascended into Heaven, and sits at the right hand of the Father; from there He will come to judge the living and the dead.

In my life, the idea of a Christ who judges, a Christ who refines, and a Christ who knows better than I do, which are all things I believe, have also been used in slightly different ways for the purpose of delegating those powers to someone. This is, I think, one of the defining tenets of fundamentalism. To take the idea that Christ is King, and empower yourself as a lord or a knight, enforcing what you believe to be Christ’s judgment, Christ’s refining fire. Declaring that someone else is treating Jesus as a figurehead, not a true King, and in doing so giving yourself power over that person.

So it is very important to me that we do not conflate the Kingship of Christ with our own clearsightedness or entitlement to judge.

And at the same time, I do believe we are imperfect. That some of the good news of the Gospel is that Christ the King can transform us. That some of the hard news of the gospel is that Christ the King may transform us away from parts of ourselves that we like.  Beyond a superficial understanding of perfected bodies, of disability or age, Jesus contests with the parts of ourselves which are not Christ-like, including those we may like. This applies to each of us, and also to the collective us.

When we reflect on what was, we can look back at our own years, as well as a year of this Church in flux.

When we reflect on what is, we each see ourselves, and also a community.

When we reflect on what is to come, we may each hold very different plans. Together, though, we see the hard work to call a new minister, but more than that the hard work to know ourselves – as we are and as we could be.

Throughout it all, we hold that Christ is King. And we are asking: What does it mean for Jesus to be a King in our lives, not a figurehead?

Thank you

Is Jesus God?

What is theology? It is simply thinking about what matters to Christians. And it is too important to be left to clergy or only taught in theological colleges. There is no more important theological question, for Christians, than who is Jesus Christ? We follow him. We identify with him. And today we gather to worship God in his name.

It has been said that in Hollywood, over-estimating the intelligence of the audience is a sure way for a picture to lose money! Do I follow this principle? Do I ‘dumb-down’ the four-sermon series on I plan to give on Christology? Sometimes I get feedback that I expect you, my patient listeners, to have a PhD in theology or psychology. Perhaps I risk that again, but I will do what I can to give a sophisticated argument on central themes relating to our faith. You will have a copy of the sermon on GUC website, I am happy for there to be questions and even controversy. I will address who Jesus is in terms of central doctrines of:

• Was Jesus God?
• What does it mean that “Christ died for us?”
• Did Jesus rise from the dead? Bodily or spiritually?
• Did God come to us in Christ (including the question of the Virgin Birth)

This first sermon is on whether Jesus was God.

Old Testament

The Hebrew people believed in one God. They were monotheists. We need to understand this if we are to begin to appreciate the New Testament and what was distinctive about Christianity. The cultural and historical context of the Bible is pagan. A roman emperor, in his lifetime, could be declared a god and temples established to worship him. In contrast the dividing line between created including human and divine is Hebrew thought was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon. You look over at God in the far distance!

The OT upholds the principle of one God. The Bible opens with “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth” (Gen 1:1). Is there anything in the gap between creator and created? The only possible candidates are the ‘Spirit of God’ (Gen 1:2) and personalized Wisdom (Prov 8) but these are expressions of God and not separate entities. The only possible contender for a separate divine being is the ‘Son of man’ figure in late apocalyptic literature. This is seen in Daniel “I saw (literally) ‘one like a son of man’, coming with the clouds of heaven” (7: 13) and indeed this god-like figure is given dominion and glory (Dan 7: 14). However, apocalyptic is very vivid in imagery, probably poetic and drew freely from semitic literature. Interestingly, Jesus referred to himself as the ‘Son of man’ in the gospels. He was not being humble but using this apocalyptic title (which might indicate a divine being).

Basically, for the Jewish people there was only one God. This was what was most distinctive about the Jewish religion in a pagan world. Jesus was a Jew and this was the context of his ministry.

New Testament

When we read the NT we see a diversity of literary styles, which can be confusing but reasonably straightforward when we understand how the authors expressed themselves.

First, Paul’s theological approach. Christ is at the centre of God’s action, especially his death, resurrection and ascension which has changed the relationship between God and humanity. Christ has been raised to cosmic significance which is universal in his letters to the churches. One example will suffice: In Colossians Christ is the image of the invisible God (1:15) and “in him all things in heaven and earth were created… He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” (1:17). Jesus Christ is asserted to be the eternal creator. In short God. This reflects the faith of the early church and we see it expressed in the Philippian hymn (2:6-11).

John’s Gospel is very different in language to the other Gospels. In the prologue (1:1-18) Jesus was identified with the Word, and echoing Genesis, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1:1) The link was clear with the historical Jesus, “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory of a Father’s only Son, full of grace and truth.” (1:14) It is possible that John’s idea of the word conveyed the rational principle of reality but it is abundantly clear which side of the Grand Canyon the Word belongs in his thought.

I believe that the Synoptic Gospels, that is Matthew, Mark and Luke, are the most misunderstood books in the New Testament. They tend to be seen as simply stories about Jesus, sometimes miraculous and therefore hard to believe. Two begin with the story of the virgin birth which marks Jesus out as both like but unlike us. Clearly the authors believed that there was something special about him. This difference in Jesus is not fully seen until his ministry begins. What is truly shocking is that Jesus begins to dowhat was only proper to Yahweh or the God of the Old Testament. There are subtle indicators such as announcing an exodus and teaching with authority (Mark 1:27), providing manna with the miracle of loaves and fishes (Matt 14: 13-21). But the most dramatic and obvious indicators caused astonishment in the witnesses. A paralysed man was brought to Jesus on a stretcher and Jesus not only healed him, but said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven you.” (Luke 5:20) The Pharisees rightly reacted that this was blasphemous since only God could forgive sins. He raised a young girl from the dead (Matthew 9:18-26) and conquered death through his resurrection. One of the clearest indications that the gospel writers saw Jesus as God was the incident of stilling the storm “What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?” (Matt 8: 23-27) Also Jesus walking on the water (Mark 6:48). Both recall the primal battle between Yahweh and the sea monsters representing chaos. Jesus overcomes chaos in creation represented by calming the storm and stilling the waters to walk on.

And finally in the book of Revelation, possibly among the last of the New Testament writings, Jesus is divine (and almost no longer human). This is seen in the description of the glorified Jesus (1:12-16) and in John’s response which was to fall as if dead at his feet.  Appropriately Jesus receives worship from the saints in heaven.

In later centuries the church worked on its ecumenical creeds which defined Jesus as fully God and fully human. This was not a later addition, but a theological formulation of what was recognised in the early church, though it took centuries for work out an appropriate formula. If there is anything surprising about this formulation it is that Jesus was fully human!

Why is all this important?

It is important for Christians to know who they follow. Was Jesus a prophet? Yes. Was he a great teacher? Yes. Was he a perfect example of what it is to be human? Yes. Was he a miracle worker? Yes. And was Jesus a divine figure? The early church believed this to be the case.

I think it is important that we recognise Jesus Christ as fully divine. He provides a human face to God. Importantly, we want to know at the deepest level what God is like? The answer has always been, since the New Testament, look at Jesus. There is only one personality of God and that is embodied in the person of Jesus Christ. There is no harsh judgmental God of the Old Testament, there is only one divine personality, and we see that, to our great relief, in Jesus Christ.

---

Rev Dr Bruce A Stevens is supply minister at GUC.

Unconscious Spiritual Learning

Verse: “In Christ every one of God’s promises is a ‘Yes’.” (2 Corinthians 1:20).

To be alive is to learn. This begins from birth (or arguably in the womb). Initially we learn without language. And this continues but is rarely noticed. For example can you ride a bike? Can you describe exactly how you ride a bike? Arthur Reber called this “implicit learning”, or learning without words, a term that is familiar in academic psychology.

I wrote a book called Before Belief: Discovering first spiritual awareness (Lexington, 2020), which argues that such learning helps to form our spiritual and religious attitudes. Unfortunately almost no one has read it – it was published Feb 2020 when COVID hit the world. In my frustration I bought 50 copies and sent them free to major libraries. So it is out-there but probably still unread. But you, my ‘captive’ congregation will hear something about why this largely unnoticed dimension of experience is important.

1. Early Learning

Think about a baby just born. He or she responds to touch, smiling faces and learns to cry when hungry. Every experience is a learning experience. However, the problem with early learning is that we simply learn, there is no filter. Think about Susanna born to a heroin dependent single mother with numerous violent partners. Susanna experiences both neglect and frequent domestic violence. What will Susanna learn about the world? Will she feel safe or provided for? Clearly not. It will take years of development to realize ‘my home was not normal’ and perhaps only as an adult can he or she begin to undo the psychological damage of such a childhood. Now consider how much this might influence, unconsciously, her spiritual attitudes. What image of God would she have? You can see the problem.

Self-esteem provides a good example of what I am talking about. You can think about it on a spectrum from overvaluing the self to a profound self-loathing. Why do people feel worthless? I think of Princess Diana, the celebrity princess of my generation. Apparently, she had it all: fame, beauty, wealth, aristocratic blue blood, and loyal friends. She was human, of course, and had an unhappy marriage to a king-now-about-to-be-crowned. However, if the tabloids are to be believed, she was not happy. She may have been admired but she was plagued by chronic low self-esteem. Low self-esteem is a felt sense of having no value. Initially, it is a belief without propositions. It is another example of unconscious learning. But theologically low self-esteem makes no sense. We are created – of at least equal value and in the light of Christ dying for us: we have enormous value to God.

Both negative and positive life experiences shape us in profound ways—especially when we are young and most vulnerable. It is not surprising that we all have a mixed bag of psychological and spiritual, positive and negative, true and false learning.

Exercise: Sentence completion Exercise: (be curious and a little playful)

The most important thing I learned as a child was …

As a child I learned that I must …

God is…

In relation to God, I made the decision to …

A friend, a professor in psychology completed “The most important thing I learned as a child” with “you’re on your own, kid”. When I did it, my sentence was “It is hard to be noticed.” When I did the “God is …” my answer was “over there”. (not here) A good indication of early learning is how it catches you by surprise and has energy.

2. Assessing Hidden Learning

First, a natural question: “Why not simply accept what we ‘know’?” One difficulty is the early origins of hidden learning. The process begins with birth or before, prior to any cognitive capacity for evaluation. Everything is accepted. It is natural to believe parents and authority figures, whether it is right or wrong, such learning feels true.

 This can result in ill-informed assumptions about “the way things are,” about life, and ultimately about God.

Therefore, this legacy will need to be evaluated. First, use reason. Our society values critical thinking, which is taught in schools and universities. Rightly, we respect rigorous thinking. Truth is too important to be sloppy in our approach to it. This is the most natural place to begin a process of testing. We can begin with the “truths” accepted in our families of origin:

I remember my parents speaking negatively about “colored people.” Such racist attitudes were part of my childhood. My father was a captain in the army, and he would tell stories of his company of “negro soldiers.” Later, my mother did not accept a daughter-in-law from an Asian country. This was an aspect of my hidden learning that I have since re-evaluated from an adult perspective.

Once we recognize our hidden learning, we can evaluate it. I would suggest a number of tests for hidden learning. Is it rational? We might note any logical inconsistencies, the presence of emotional reasoning, dealing with a “felt sense,” the test of life experience, and seeing the relational implications. The last two are important – is this attitude supported or contradicted by my life experience. For example, I think Barack Obama was one of the best presidents of the USA. And what are the relational implications? How would I relate to people of different ethnic backgrounds especially in a multiracial country like Australia. Or in this congregation GUC. You can see that my life experience contradicts my early learning.

How about spiritual learning? It is exactly the same. We must recognize and then evaluate. If we discover spiritual learning is dysfunctional, then to reconsider one’s commitment to certain beliefs, attitudes, or practices.

Early beliefs influence the later course of a life:

Melinda was raised in a proudly humanist family. Her parents objected to any form of religious “indoctrination” in public schools. When Mel attended university, some of her friends were committed Christians. She began to wonder about what she had always assumed.

But this applies both ways. It is common for children raised by Christian parents to later doubt their faith and become agnostics or atheists. This also is process of testing what is assumed or actively believed by parents and family. The question is: “What’s true for me?” This is a journey that can lead to many destinations.

3. Integration

Integration happens through a conscious process of recognition, evaluation, possible change with acceptance and integration. I am arguing against a passive acceptance of whatever our parents modelled or spoke about. Of course, if you were raised in a healthy family MOST of what you learned, consciously or unconsciously, has enormous value and deserves an honoured place in your life. But I consider my family stable, responsible and mostly healthy. I feel grateful to God for them but one of my adult tasks in life is has been this process of critical evaluation.

Illustration: Hans the tailor

Both self-awareness and self-acceptance are illustrated by the author Irvin Yalom, a psychiatrist, in his memoir. The view from his old age was better than he expected.[i] In one chapter, he recounted having a dream of his mother and asking her, “Momma, how’d I do?” The implication was staggering: “I have been conducting my life with this lamentable woman as my primary audience!” [ii] He ended on a positive note. At age 85, Yalom acknowledged that this book was likely to be his last, so he concluded with words from Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra: “Was that life? Well then, once again!”[iii]

Conclusion

I know that I have asked you to struggle with some unfamiliar concepts in this sermon. I worked the central thesis over about 7 or 8 years as a research academic. And yet it is important. If you want to take this line of thinking further, read the sermon which will be on the GUC website. If you want to go even further, be one of a handful of people to read my Before Belief:  Discovering First Spiritual Awareness (Lexington 2020).

---

Dr Bruce Stevens is the supply minister at GUC. He was the Wicking Professor of Ageing and Practical Theology CSU 2015-2019. He is an endorsed clinical psychologist.

---

Exercise: Sentence completion Exercise: (be curious and a little playful)

The most important thing I learned as a child was …

As a child I learned that I must …

God is…

In relation to God, I made the decision to …

The Early Spirituality Profile

1. Think about your experience of God using the following dimensions, and put an X on each scale:

(a)	Personal	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Impersonal
(b)	[If personal] Male	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Female
(c)	One	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Many
(d)	Immanent	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Transcendent
(e)	Eternal	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Transitory
(f)	Clarity	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Confusion
(g)	Ecstatic	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Distressing
(h)	Life giving	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Draining
(i)	Fullness	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Loss of self
(j)	Sacred	1………………………………………………………………… 10	Profane

Is the matrix you have done different from your earliest experience(s) of God? If so, use an O on the scales to describe that experience of God. If you compare the two matrices, what conclusions do you come to?

To Read further: Bruce A Stevens (2020) Before Belief: Discovering first spiritual awareness (Lexington).

---

[i] Irvin D. Yalom, Becoming myself: A psychiatrist’s memoir, Basic Books, New York, 2017, 233.

[ii] Yalom, Becoming myself, 253.

[iii] Yalom, Becoming myself, 342.

Unconscious influences 2

Readings: Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16.

We hear the psalmist desperately seeking the Lord, “In thee, O Lord do I seek refuge, let me never be put to shame… Incline thy ear to me, rescue me speedily, be thou a rock of refuge to me, a strong fortress to save me!” (Psalm 31:1-2). But how do we know when God is there. Or if God has heard our prayer?

The obvious answer is through the same means as we know anything, through our five senses. Arguably while God remains unseen, the Holy One is tangible in the exactly the same way as anything else in our life. I know this is a provocative statement, but let me continue.

The Five Senses

Aristotle identified the five senses: sight, touch, hearing, smell and taste. We are born with these senses and it is how we encounter reality. But do we have a preferred sense? First imagine that travel restrictions have ended. Now imagine the following:

You arrive at your holiday destination. It is a beach resort (perhaps in Australia, perhaps next year in Bali). What is your first reaction? (a) To enjoy the feel of the sand under your feet? Or the warmth of the sun? Of the cool sea breeze on your face? (b) Do you hear the waves breaking? The sound of sea gulls or the rustling of leaves in the wind? (c) Do you enjoy the view of the beach, the blue sea and the movement of people. (d) The smell of the sea or the flowers around? (e) Or do you look for exotic dining with new dishes to try out?

Can you identify a preferred sense through this exercise? Maybe a secondary? There are spiritual implications which we will now explore.

Reflect: Most people seem to have a first memory. What is the sense through which you remember? Is it visual, a distinct sound, a bodily sensation, a smell or a taste? This might provide a clue to your favored sense. Discuss if you are with someone.

God through the Senses

The Bible records the divine human encounter. The assumption is that all the senses are involved: “Hear the word of the Lord” (Isa 1:10), a promise that “The pure in heart … they will see God” (Matt 5:8); “O, taste and see that the Lord is good!” (Ps 34:8) and in the reading from Peter “for you have tasted the kindness of the Lord” (1 Peter 2:3); the faithful “Spreads in every place the fragrance that comes from knowing him” (2 Cor 2:14). Indeed, the original witnesses to the resurrection testified that “We have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our own hands, concerning the word of life” (I John 1:1).

The expression “spiritual senses” (sensus spiritales) first occurred in the Latin translation of Origen of Alexandria (a church father who died 254AD). Other theologians have emphasized the experience of God through the senses:

Augustine, for example, in his Confessions, “I have learnt to love you late, Beauty [God] at once so ancient and so new! … You called me, you cried aloud to me; you broke my barrier of deafness. You shone upon me; your radiance enveloped me; you put my blindness to flight. You shed your fragrance about me; I drew breath and now I gasp for your sweet odor. I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst for you. You touched me, and I am inflamed with love of your peace.”

More recently theologians Paul Gavrilyuk and Sarah Coakley have argued for the continuing relevance of the senses in the theological tradition. However, there is an unresolved tension in relating to a God who is unlike us and inherently mysterious, “We look not at what can be seen but to what cannot be seen” (2 Cor 4:18).

In the middle-ages there was the idea of a spiritual sense. A couple of years ago I saw the beautiful The Lady and the Unicorn tapestries from the Musée de Cluny (which were on exhibition in Australia at the NSW Gallery in Sydney). These glorious 16th-century works illustrate the five senses and allow for a sixth sense, or an overall focus, labelled Mon Seul Désir (my sole desire). This makes for a wonderful work of art but whether we have an additional sense for God is debatable when the clear biblical tradition is that God can meet us through any of the five senses.

The Christian faith has always had an experiential dimension. Over the years people have received visions, revelations, spiritual insight and other communications from the divine realm.  John Wesley, who ‘founded’ the Methodist Church, felt his heart “strangely warmed”. This experience reflects touch, but others have experienced God through music, a sermon, a beautiful work of art, the taste of the eucharist or a fellowship meal, or the smell of flowers or incense.

In my experience ordinary believers sometimes have extraordinary experiences. These are often memorable and highly influential in shaping the Christian faith for the individuals involved. While some might label these as mystical experiences or refer to mystics, I would prefer to acknowledge such experiences. They are rarely daily or even weekly or monthly but even if once or twice in a lifetime such experiences can be very significant for our spiritual life.

Usually these are intensely private and rarely, or if ever, talked about. Some believers value a strictly rational approach to the faith, but I think it is foolish to dismiss any aspect of religious experience. Clearly, neither the Bible nor our religious tradition allows this. I’m not saying that religious experience ‘proves’ the existence of God, but simply that many if not most religious people have experiences that are unexplainable to any rational degree.

I remember eight or nine years ago, after a personal crisis I went to communion at All Saints Anglican Church. I was a member there and it was my normal practice to attend every Sunday. I was feeling quite distressed as I went up to the front to kneel before the altar to receive Holy Communion, and once there I was overwhelmed by a sense of God’s acceptance. Deep in my being I knew that God loved me and unreservedly welcomed me [as I am]. There was nothing miraculous about this ‘event’, being purely subjective and in my 50 years as a Christian I could count on one hand anything remotely similar, but I know such rare moments confirm my relationship with God.

I would like to encourage you to pay attention to how God comes to you. Usually, we are wired in different ways and I would suggest that the senses play a part. The popular author Gary Chapman suggested that there were Five Love Languages. These do not directly parallel the five senses but include receiving gifts, spending quality time, words of affirmation, acts of service and physical touch. There is value in Chapman’s insight, that basically we feel loved in different ways, and that this has a potential application to how we are most comfortable in relating to God. Can you identify a love language for relating to God?

Styles of Worship

The implications of a favored sense influences what style of worship will appeal to us. Some will want to hear the Bible preached with no visual embellishment, others desire a strong musical program, or the atmosphere of candles and lead-light windows, to engage in a weekly eucharist and/or the smell of incense or perfumed candles. It is not helpful to think of worship in categories of right or wrong but simply in what comes naturally in relating to God.

It is not clear why we might have a preferred sense for God. I suspect it reflects our earliest experiences, before words or language, and is associated with nurture. This lays a template for relating to God in later life. Understanding this we can better enhance our spiritual life and seek more natural ways to encounter God.

Practical Application

Let’s think together about how we can maximize the insight about our preferred sense for God. Ideally our choice of worship should reflect this, for example many at GUC probably have hearing [participating in music, value of preaching and creative liturgy]. I was at Wesley with its elaborate musical program. Before that I was at All Saints, the church of already mentioned, which has a beautiful sanctuary and has elaborate ritual which is visually appealing.

• Sight you might find church architecture is powerful, and the art tradition of sacred images. Or even more focused is looking at icons. You might try painting an icon, traditionally called writing an icon. I love art and I usually spend some time each day looking at art books (presently Vatican’s collection). I find visual beauty quite nourishing.
• Hearing you might buy a recording of the bible to listen to or sermons as podcasts, or listen to recordings on our church site. I think sacred music would be a must for a believer seeking to deepen a relationship with God from Gregorian chants to contemporary music – whatever is your musical preference! There is of course Bach and Handel somewhere in between.
• Touch is about engaging the body. You might like ‘holy hugs’ at the passing of the peace (when COVID allows). You might like massages but I not sure how to express this as a spiritual discipline [imagine being touched by God?]. One option is to walk a pilgrimage such as the Camino to Spain. I know a UCA minister who walked to Land’s End and threw a stone of past resentments in the water and jumped naked into the ocean as an expression of feeling free before God. 
• Smell Incense has been used in worship since the days of the early church, increasingly with the development of the liturgy after Constantine. Creative activities might include arranging the flowers or ‘gardening for God’ or just gardening. Or cooking for church occasions such as the bread for holy communion.
• Taste The communion is a direct taste of the divine through the sacrament. We partake in fellowship meals or drinks together.  This is highly valued at GUC with Spice Kids and home fellowship groups.

There is nothing more natural to deepen your relationship with God than doing more of what works for you. It helps to know your preferred sense and then to build on that. Simply accept such a pathway to deepen your spiritual life.

There is a mediaeval map in which “the earth is a flat disc with Jerusalem in the centre. Rome was bigger than Africa and America was not even shown, of course. The heart is that kind of map. The self is in the middle and everything else is out of proportion.” [The Edge of Eternity]. This is equally true of the spiritual life, we need to get to know our own heart and its pathways.

---

Dr Bruce A. Stevens (PhD Boston University, 1987) was the Wicking Professor of Ageing and Practical Theology at Charles Sturt University, Canberra, Australia (2015-2019). He is an endorsed clinical psychologist who has written ten books, most recently The Storied Self (Fortress Academic, 2018) and Before Belief (Lexington, 2020). He is the supply minister at Gungahlin Uniting Church.

To Read Further

Gary Chapman, The Five Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to your Mate, (Chicago, Ill.: Northfield Publishing, 1995).

Paul L. Gavrilyuk and Sarah Coakley Eds., The Spiritual Senses: Perceiving God in Western Christianity (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 1-2.

R. S. Pine-Coffin, Trans., St Augustine Confessions (Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England: Penguin Books, 1961), Book 10:27, see 231-32.