Blog
April 23, 2008
Wow.
There are some good thoughts here.
Tillich is an evocative thinker, even today. I appreciated Phyllis comments on the last sermon, Love is stronger than death, because that is a
sermon that does seem to speak to our particularly complicated world at
present. Tillich is a figure about whom
I am profoundly ambivalent. Some of his
theology, particularly around the nature of faith and the nature of commitment
as courage, I find fresh every morning.
No one who has grasped the profundity of faith can miss the depth of
doubt or the anxiety that is around us.
My favorite piece remains the
shaking of the foundations. We are
living in a world that is one step away from death, death on an unprecedented
scale, and perhaps even the death of all but the molds and the scum. If you are not afraid of the people who have
their fingers on the Bomb and can unlease a nuclear attack, you should be or
you are and do not admit it.
Peace
CH 1502
Christian Movement
Glenn Miller
April 23, 2008
Cathie Kimball
I thought that you find Tillich to be an important
resource. You are right that he is a
complicated thinker, perhaps one of the most complicated that we will
encounter. In part, our problem comes
from the faith that is in such close dialogue with modern philosophy and modern
psychology. But his understanding of faith as commitment,
as ultimate concern, is a lasting contribution to our understanding of
theology. What makes idolatry false is
not that it represents bad information about God--- all
religions do that to some extent and we know that often bad
information may, ironically, encourage good faith—but that it represents a
style of life that keeps us from the ultimate.
Paul Tillich
The current generation always feels as though our times are unique, our problems somehow a product of our times. These writings of Tillich demonstrate yet again that we are not unique and the problems of man supersede the time in which we now live. Tillich is writing about people who seem to have lost the dimension of depth in their lives, who are running ahead and failing to stop to become aware of themselves. This aptly describes our current time – hey, it aptly describes my own life at times. His writings go back to the very basics, the role of God, the nature of faith, the most rudimentary aspects of religion. Yet his writing is far from basic. It is dense, it has depth, and it is complex even where it seems simple on the surface. The chapter on Faith demonstrates these attributes.
The chapter on What Faith Is has six parts. Each takes up an aspect of faith, and they build, one on the other. First, “Faith is the state of being ultimately concerned”. He uses the example of the faith of the religion of the Old Testament: the pious Jew’s ultimate concern is to love God with all his heart, soul and might. He counters that with those for whom the ultimate concern is success – social standing and economic power. Though the content of each is vastly different and therefore the outcomes, both are defined as ultimate concerns, and as such, is the formal definition of faith.
The second aspect of faith is more personal. “Faith as ultimate concern is an act of the total personality”. Tillich defines it as an act of the personality of the whole, both unconscious and conscious. “…faith is a matter of freedom” it is a “free…centered act of the personality.” Third it becomes “… a total and centered act of the personal self.” This is where man’s ultimate concern reveals something about him. The ultimate, the unconditional, is expressed in the disappearance of the difference between subject and object. He quotes Paul in Romans as saying that in every act of prayer God is also within us as spirit, praying – God is object and subject. This defines a true intimacy, where one for whom nation, or success is god will have a false intimacy, one that is unable to transcend the subject/object theme.
Up to this point, Tillich has been very dense. It has been difficult for me to follow. Yet this next quote is rich, and crystal clear to me: “He who enters the sphere of faith enters the sanctuary of life. Where there is faith there is an awareness of holiness.” This entire discussion is illustrative. Holiness as creative, holiness as justice and truth, holiness as mystery – all contrasted with holiness as destructive and demonic. Both are holy, yet the latter is the product of an idolatrous faith.
Next, this faith must now act. “…faith as an act of the human personality” This acting faith always bears doubt within it as well, yet “the doubt which is implicit in faith is not a doubt about facts or conclusions.” This doubt is more of an attitude, one of rejecting absolute certainty, of being aware of an element of insecurity in all truths.
Lastly, “…the act of faith, like every act in man’s spiritual life, is dependent on language and therefore on community. For only in the community of spiritual beings is language alive.” The tension between the individual and the community is the place of actions and reactions, of doubt, and holiness, and ultimate concerns both of individuals and of the community itself. At its best it is dynamic and embraces language without allowing language to limit it. It is constantly being re-formed. It is a community formed under the Cross, which Tillich understands as “the divine judgment over man’s religious life”.
Tillich’s careful construction of this chapter on Faith demonstrates his deep thinking and his simple approach. Both live in contrast and it is in that tension of contrast that the strength of faith is forged. Well forged, it is dynamic, flexible and willing always to question, to explore doubt and to live on the edges.
Kathleen M.
Batchelder
Great fun. Thanks for your thoughts.
Tillich is exciting.
CH 1502
Online Seminar #11
The Essential Tillich—Part I
Tillich’s
essays are challenging, but I really enjoyed this selection. One aspect of this text which I appreciate
is that each essay carries the bibliographic information about its original
publishing. I like knowing when and where the
essay/sermon appeared in order to place the context. When I was reading Niebuhr’s essays, I had to
search for his context, and I often thought it would have been simple for the
editor to add this information.
The
statement of Tillich which sets his stage for me is on page 4, “The first step
toward nonreligion of the Western world was made by religion itself. When it defended its great symbols, not as
symbols, but as literal stories, it had already lost the battle.” This set the stage for me to read with
interest to see how Tillich defines symbols.
I read with the lens of one who has been a Christian as long as I can
remember. Since about 1993, my three
children have increasingly asked deep questions about the Holy One-- questions
about Bible stories which seem to raise more questions than answers and about
practices of professing Christians which belie their real belief. Therefore, two areas of Tillich’s writing
which speak to me today are the topics of religious doubt and of religious
symbols.
First, I
appreciate Tillich’s discussion of doubt as part of our faith journey. He writes that
doubt is not a permanent experience within the act of faith. But it is always present as an element in the
structure of faith” (page 25). He puts a
positive angle on doubt by saying, “If doubt appears, it should not be
considered as the negation of faith, but as an element which was always and
will always be present in the act of faith.
Existential doubt and faith are poles of the same
reality, the state of ultimate concern” (pp. 25-26). In my youth or, more recently, in conversations
with Christians in more fundamental traditions (which seem to have more answers
than questions), I often beat myself up when I have doubts. Thank you, Paul Tillich, for expressing a
hope which has lurked
uncertainly in my heart—my hope that it is a healthy part of faith to ask
questions.
Next, I had
to take two runs at several passages in the discussion on symbols, and it will
take further study to really understand these essays. However, I appreciate Tillich’s exploration of
religious symbols. Within that
discussion, I am intrigued by his insistence that symbols are born and die
within their context of faith community.
He writes that a symbol “opens up reality and it opens up the soul” (p.
48). He also says, “No symbol can be
replaced when used in its special function” (P. 48). The idea that symbols “are
born” and “die” while signs “are invented” and “removed” really makes me think. I would like to ask Tillich for more examples
because my brain prefers specifics to illustrate abstractions. On the other hand, I understand that he is
suggesting that we are too hung up on the signs, the inventions.
It is
reasonable to me when Tillich writes of symbols, “they are not themselves the Holy. The wholly
transcendent transcends every symbol of the Holy” (page 49). However, I would like to ask Tillich to
expand his statement, “Everything in time and space has become at some time in
the history of religion a symbol for the Holy” (page 49). I am not sure what he means. If one looks at the representations of God in the various religions
of the world, one discovers that people have used animals, including cats,
stars and constellations, other people, governments, etc to represent God. While some of the these
were better or worse than others—cat gods over snake gods, for instance—none of
these symbols exhausted the divine reality.
Indeed, each symbol also invites a negative question: if the ultimate is like a cat, in what ways
is it not like a cat. The same is true
of the more refined symbols that we use in theology to talk about God. Each one invites us to “yes,but.
. .” Even such statements as “God is
Truth” are subject to this analysis.
Tillich writes of the transcendent
level of religious symbols which goes beyond the observable and also of the
immanent level of religious symbols which “we find within the encounter with
reality” (page 51). He suggests further
that symbols “have the tendency (in the human mind, of course) to replace that
to which they are supposed to point, and to become ultimate in themselves. And in the moment in which they do this, they
become idols” (p. 50). I don’t consider Protestants idolators, but recently I
was reminded that we may be perceived as (and perhaps even run the risk of
being) idolators. In the Judaism Today
course with Rabbi Lerner, she twice used the word “idol” to refer to a cross
someone was wearing and again to pictures of Jesus. In some cases, she
may be right, but this is one of the places where Tillich’s love and
appreciation for art is far more German than Jewish. Tillich would have said that the same danger
lay in the Jewish love of text and scrolls. I was startled by her wording, and it started
an interior dialogue about symbols and levels of being. I appreciate Tillich’s insights, and I am
eager to read more.
Rabbi Lerner==Idolatry
CH 1502 Phyllis
Merritt
Christian
Movement II
Glenn Miller week of April
24, 2008
The Essential Tillich
Parts I, II and V
As I began to
read the Tillich assignment for this week, I marked a passage in the preface
that seemed important to keep in mind: “ … what we need is a theology at once
open enough to speak to our situation, humble enough to heal divisions while
respecting differences, and powerful enough to liberate us from the tyrannies
of our times.” (xiv, F. Forrester Church) I could, in the usage of a current phrase “go
for” a theology like that. Does a
theology like that exist? Because I am
still a “newbie” with plenty of time here at the seminary, I hope I have a
chance to find out.
Another
statement from the foreword stood out to me as well: “We struggle, some of us
intensively, some of us only when the roof falls in, to make whatever sense we
can of life and death.” (xvi) If the
truth be told, we struggle in both ways at different times in our lives. When the roof falls in, that incident or
event may propel us to struggle more intensively. We may struggle differently as we age. We may struggle differently as we view
family or world events that we do not understand.
I liked the
way this book is set up, at least the parts that we were required to read for
this week. When I have tough, serious
things to think about, I like to read in small sections at a time. This book allowed me to do that.
A passage
that I marked, not because I was comfortable with it though, was the first
sentence of the Invocation: “Being religious means asking passionately the
question of the meaning of our existence and being willing to receive answers, even
if the answers hurt.” (1) It is that “even if the answers hurt” that I don’t
really want to hear. That thought
continues to page 7 of the Invocation: “Is there an answer? There is always an
answer, but the answer may not be available to us.” Both of these quotations come from a
discussion on the loss of the dimension of depth in religion and in our lives
themselves. From my experience, I think
I have seen that loss happen in rural
When I began
chapter 1, I had trouble with the phrase “ultimately concerned.” When I have helped teachers with lesson
plans, we have discussed how important it is to introduce new concepts by
linking them, if possible, to information the class
already knows. When I read this short
chapter, my head knows that I have to think beyond what I know. Am I right in thinking that God is more than
anything I can know, yet part of what
I do know? Yes,but that may n ot help with Paulus
I got lost on
page 17, so I will re-read. I realize
that our syllabus is planned so that we get to taste and sample the banquet of
ideas contained in this selection of books.
My problem is that I like food. I
don’t like to have just a taste, so I think some of my summer’s reading is
already planned. Then I will feast.
I liked the
idea on page 27 that “faith needs its language.” However, thinking about that sent me back to
the idea that God is more than I know.
The reality is that we do have to have a means of communication, and
what we have is all we have. I think
that the language itself is the cause of some of our confusion sometimes. Perhaps it would be
better to say that God is always beyond what we can know.
I also liked
the idea that “the community of faith stands ‘under the cross,’” (31) an image
I had not really considered
before. When I imagine the community of
faith, I think of it as more than just my church or my denomination, more than
what is even in the present. As I
thought about that phrase, I must admit chagrin… I know there are people,
churches, and creeds that I have not welcomed “under the cross.” ? ?
Chapter 14
would find me in the group of people may realize the truth of prophetic doom
and not want to hear the words…do I cling too much to the finite?
After I had
spent most of my reading session thinking about what I could be or should be
thinking and doing, I was very glad to end the session with Chapter 17. I know
this is not very academic, but my response is, “Yahoo!” I love
that message. It
is a good and powerful sermon.
Gary Cyr
Tillich—part 1-4
4/23/08
Between the Protestant Principle, the melancholy law of transitoriness, and the ultimate concern, a reader begins to see the inner workings of Tillich. Tillich realized that dogmatic and doctrinal statements limit the creative effort of the human heart to seek that which is our true desire, what stirs our restlessness to find meaning and purpose. Instead of codifying religion, Tillich recognized, as did Schleiermacher, the value and importance of novels, poetry, literature, and art, as means of expressing our ultimate concern in light of the inability of language to capture the essence of the Other.
Symbol and myth are also means of expressing faith, or
better yet, they point beyond what they represent. What concerned Tillich is the misplaced faith
society has placed in nationalism, capitalism, and socialism. One could argue that they represent false
religions…“every concern tries to become our ultimate concern, our god”; as
such, they are the masks we wear to assuage our fears and doubts. Doubt is not something to negate. It should be part of our experience, a
genuine emotion of our finite nature seeking to understand the infinite. Instead of infallibility, absolutism,
relativism, or positivism striving to contain our doubt with certainty, we need
to embrace our being as we seek out the Ground of Being
Tillich knew that when one order passes, another arises and that finally Isaiah
and Darius were brothers in circumstance.
The same world that calls one to the depths, calls another to tyranny.
When Tillich mentions that man, stepping into space and time, changes the world and himself, I am reminded of the Buddhist proverb that a man can never step into the same river twice. Each is changed by the encounter. Man shapes the world, the world shapes man. It plays into his thoughts of man and community in much the same way—man shapes the community and the community shapes man. He also speaks about how experience creates depth, and that until we become aware of our self, we continually chase after the false gods we create. Instead, if we would only stop and realize that a moment in time is a universe unto itself, we may begin to recognize the Holy in our midst.
Tillich cautions that Holy has become synonymous with moral correctness; that to find its true meaning we must look to the mystics and how they encountered the Other, how they expressed their experience of the Infinite. It is here the symbol becomes valued as a means to that end.
By expressing the thought that symbols grow and die, I found Tillich echoing the premise that when conditions are correct we are born, when they are correct we die. That is the way of nature, of which we are a part. There is a truth in realizing our eventual demise that Tillich values—part psychology. But there are other layers to Tillich’s writing. When he speaks of our “restlessness of the heart” I am reminded of Augustine speaking of the soul finding its rest in God alone. Tillich’s ultimate concern being a juxtaposition of subjective/objective carries with it the essence of Anselm’s ‘faith seeking understanding’. In the end, I come away thinking that our life is a film being projected upon a screen, and Tillich is asking us to recognize the screen upon which the film is being played.This is an interesting reading. Tillich certainly thought that his theology was anchored in this world and not in the world of shadows, and he struggled to be true to that existential stance. Yet, and this is the ironic thing about many such theologies, the older ghost in the machine may still be haunting them. Our ultimate concern is this field upon which our lives play out; it supports us, allows us to express our nature, our being without itself being ‘being’…it is the ground of being. There is one part of these essays that I wonder what he meant—what is creative eros?
Barbara Chodkowski
Christian Movement II
Tillich I
As a person who has studied communications for a long period in my life, I was most intrigued by Tillich’s treatment of symbol in Part Two of our reading for this week. Tillich outlines six characteristics of symbols, contrasting them with signs and highlighting their life cycle. This discussion brought me immediately to think of the cross as a symbol of Christianity. I began to formulate a recollection of early Christian history that, through the scriptures, became the basis for the importance of the symbol of the cross in our religious life. There is no doubt that its simple crossed lines evoke only one basic meaning by those in our present western cultural reality – the cross of Christ, the central symbol of the Christian religion. Everything Tillich wrote had my head bobbing, “I remember that from communications class”, “Yes, I remember that because we used this example”, until he got to his sixth characteristic. I do not ever remember being challenged to look at the immortality of a symbol before, its organic form. He writes:
The sixth and last characteristic of the symbol is a consequence
of the fact that symbols cannot be invented. Like living beings,
they grow and die. They grow when the situation was right for them,
and they die when the situation changes. . . Symbols do not grow
because people are longing for them, and they do not die because
of scientific or practical criticism. They die because they can no
longer produce response in the group where they originally
found expression (pp 42-43).
Can we as modern Christians, steeped in the traditions, history and
collective expression of our faith which centers around
the resurrection of Christ and the symbol of that center, the cross, imagine a
world where that symbol is no longer recognized? Notice that Tillich did not say that
the cross would be non-recognized, only that a time would come when it no
longer provoked the same response in people as it once did and finally when it
no longer provoked response at all. The swastika is recognized,
but few people respond to it the way that they did
in the 1930s. In that sense, it is a
dead symbol or a very negative one/ The prevalence of the cross or crucifix hanging about
people’s necks has not lessoned, but in fact, has increased; even in those who
do not attend a church on a regular basis.
The symbol has become cemented in modern culture as one that signals
safety and protection, faith and hope.
On a trip to the mall a few days ago, I stopped to ask at the jewelry
booth in the middle of the causeway about the sales of crosses and
crucifixes. Not surprisingly, this time
of year with marking Easter, Holy Communion and Confirmation for Christians,
marks the largest sales of crosses and crucifixes. But the sales of these -
whether gold or silver, large or small, ornate or plain, is reported to have
risen exponentially in the years following 911 all during year. Curious if this was a
It is clear that the cross as a symbol is not close to dying, but I am not sure that it has not changed and will keep changing. More and more our Christian religious traditions, rituals and symbols are taking on cultural meanings, rather than their original theological meanings. It is conceivable that some day, the symbol of the cross could entirely change to a watered down version of a protection or good luck charm without any theological or historical component. Its original meaning could be lost somewhere to the point where folks in the future would have to research its history, as we do in exegesis, to find out from where the symbol of the cross really came. To me as a Christian, this would signal the death of the cross as a symbol as we know it.
But as long as a community of believers exists, the symbol will endure. Those who do not understand its Christian meaning still find a place for the hope embedded in its image through cultural and social learning. The symbol of the cross still lives. I pray that it always does.
Michael Kasevich
Christian Movement II
April 24, 2008
The Essential Tillich
This reading has been one of the best and most comprehensive texts yet. In the chapter about “Religious Symbols” Tillich touches my at my heart. He writes that: “A religious symbol possesses some truth if it adequately expresses the correlation of revelation in which some person stands.” (Pp65)
We see everyday people wearing religious symbols. Many are showing the world their faith, yet many wear them as a decoration in a secular society. How many people do you see wear a cross and never step foot into a church of any kind? How many people wear a cross for protection and not a witness to their faith? These are physical signs of religion symbols used as trinkets and as Tillich states they may die as many have in our churches history.
I also see a religious symbol being the theology one spews forward in conversation. When I am in a concentrated group of people pontificating theology, and not in seminary or church, I make myself beware of the falseness of such talk. I have found it is usually a person or people who have just enough information on the topic to be dangerous to others in their ideals of religion and faith.
There is a fine line when speaking theology outside a learned group of people, outside the church, and speaking theory and thoughts. Some people I have found use what little theology they have as a badge of honor to justify their behavior and to protrude their own agenda laden thoughts onto someone else. The use of symbolic language can be deceiving to those not aware of the implications and the theology behind the symbols.
For an example , I had a gentleman come up to
me wearing a symbol around his neck, the Hammer of Thor. This gentleman started
to explain to me the contradictions in the scriptures written in the
canonized Bible. He was challenging me to defend the Word of God. The Word of
God needs no defense, it stands on its own. Yet I
noticed his religious symbol. He was being true to his belief and I respected
that. We agreed to disagree and we have been in communication for the last ten
years. Here is where Tillich speaks of symbol opening the divine for the human and the human for the divine.(Pp 66) I think that I follow
here.
Through our conversations my friend who wears Thor’s Hammer, has exchanged his religious symbol for a bare cross, professing the resurrection of Jesus Christ and salvation through the atoning blood.
Looking through the symbols we can get to the center of the theology by watching the actions and behaviors of people who differ from us, not wrong or right, but different.
I chose this topic today because the gentleman who wore the Hammer of Thor is my oldest son.
Barbara Chodkowski
Christian Movement II
Tillich I
As a person who has studied communications for a long period in my life, I was most intrigued by Tillich’s treatment of symbol in Part Two of our reading for this week. Tillich outlines six characteristics of symbols, contrasting them with signs and highlighting their life cycle. This discussion brought me immediately to think of the cross as a symbol of Christianity. I began to formulate a recollection of early Christian history that, through the scriptures, became the basis for the importance of the symbol of the cross in our religious life. There is no doubt that its simple crossed lines evoke only one basic meaning by those in our present western cultural reality – the cross of Christ, the central symbol of the Christian religion. Everything Tillich wrote had my head bobbing, “I remember that from communications class”, “Yes, I remember that because we used this example”, until he got to his sixth characteristic. I do not ever remember being challenged to look at the immortality of a symbol before, its organic form. He writes:
The sixth and last characteristic of the symbol is a consequence
of the fact that symbols cannot be invented. Like living beings,
they grow and die. They grow when the situation was right for them,
and they die when the situation changes. . . Symbols do not grow
because people are longing for them, and they do not die because
of scientific or practical criticism. They die because they can no
longer produce response in the group where they originally
found expression (pp 42-43).
Can we as modern Christians, steeped in the traditions, history and
collective expression of our faith which centers around
the resurrection of Christ and the symbol of that center, the cross, imagine a
world where that symbol is no longer recognized? Notice that Tillich did not say that
the cross would be non-recognized, only that a time would come when it no
longer provoked the same response in people as it once did and finally when it
no longer provoked response at all. The swastika is
recognized, but few people respond to it the way that they did
in the 1930s. In that sense, it is a dead
symbol or a very negative one/ The prevalence of the cross or crucifix hanging about
people’s necks has not lessoned, but in fact, has increased; even in those who
do not attend a church on a regular basis.
The symbol has become cemented in modern culture as one that signals
safety and protection, faith and hope.
On a trip to the mall a few days ago, I stopped to ask at the jewelry
booth in the middle of the causeway about the sales of crosses and crucifixes. Not surprisingly, this time of year with marking
Easter, Holy Communion and Confirmation for Christians, marks the largest sales
of crosses and crucifixes. But the sales of these - whether gold or silver,
large or small, ornate or plain, is reported to have risen exponentially in the
years following 911 all during year.
Curious if this was a
It is clear that the cross as a symbol is not close to dying, but I am not sure that it has not changed and will keep changing. More and more our Christian religious traditions, rituals and symbols are taking on cultural meanings, rather than their original theological meanings. It is conceivable that some day, the symbol of the cross could entirely change to a watered down version of a protection or good luck charm without any theological or historical component. Its original meaning could be lost somewhere to the point where folks in the future would have to research its history, as we do in exegesis, to find out from where the symbol of the cross really came. To me as a Christian, this would signal the death of the cross as a symbol as we know it.
But as long as a community of believers exists, the symbol will endure. Those who do not understand its Christian meaning still find a place for the hope embedded in its image through cultural and social learning. The symbol of the cross still lives. I pray that it always does.
Sandra Lucas
The Essential Tillich
My favorite essay in our readings this week was “Our Ultimate Concern.” Not only is the Mary / Martha story one of my favorites, I have given a reflection or two on the passage in years past and, of course, I’ve heard many sermons on it. None of them, including my own, was an “ah-ah moment,” a recognition of some deeper dimension of reality, or as Tillich would say, of ultimate concern. And truth be known, I was more a Martha sympathizer, feeling she gets the “short end of the stick” in the story.
That is, until I read Tillich. For the first time, I really understood the “good portion” as it is translated in the essay, or the “better part” as I’ve usually heard it, the “one thing needful” that Mary chose. And, as we discover, it’s something we all can choose.
But
it’s not that simple. Tillich then
rejects most things we might put in the category of the “one needful
thing.” These include concern for our
work, our relationships, and our self.
They also include concern for justice, beauty, truth, knowledge. Tillich
doesn’t say these things are not important.
He wants us to recognize that no matter how noble or worthy these
concerns are, they are not “the right thing that Mary has chosen.” He asks, “Are they perhaps the highest forms
of what Martha represents?” (35) Yes,
This is particularly acute. We often substitute our causes for the great
cause of Being itself
He points out that anything that can be taken away from us, anything that is transitory, does not fall into the “one needful thing” category. He cautions us to not let concerns become tyrannical and become our god, pointing out that work, science, success, material wealth, and nationalism often become false gods.
Then he puts “religion” and even “God” into the not-the-one-needful thing category. Huh? What’s left? Tillich points out that Mary and Martha were both religious; religion is not what sets Mary apart. He notes, “Even God can be made a finite concern, an object among other objects.” (38)
The one needful thing that Mary chose was to be infinitely concerned (his italics). At first this seemed like a cop-out. But what I think he is saying is that this infinite, unconditional, ultimate concern dissolves all anxiety about the “Martha sphere of life.” That sphere is still important and necessary but “its power is broken; it cannot destroy us” when, like Mary, we can sit at the feet of Jesus and listen to his Word. (38) He writes, “The hour of a church service and every hour of meditative reading is dedicated to listening in the way Mary listened.” (33)
I’ve had
Mary moments but usually I’m anxious about the Martha sphere of life. Tillich’s essay is a reminder that when we
seek the one needful thing, not once in a blue moon but daily, continually,
then the tyranny and power of our worries and concerns is broken. Our anxiety is gone. It was a timely and important reminder. Most of us miss our
Mary moments or we find other moments too precious. One of the hard lessons that I have learned
is that religion, which I genuinely enjoy, can keep me from concern with the
God who is the real God of life. This
year the insight came as I was rushing to yet another chapel service and
suddenly realized that I was putting good works on good works and avoiding the
one thing needful: being quiet and enjoying the presence of God. We can make even our religious life into an
idol, a false concerm