If the definition of “dogma” is a principle or set of principles laid down by an authority as incontrovertibly true then I wonder what we call the state of not seeing anything as incontrovertibly true? Perhaps that is the disappearance of dogma….
I have been listening to Kelvin Chin, who was a test subject in the first medical studies on meditation in the U.S.— conducted by Boston cardiologist Herbert Benson, MD in 1971 (published in Scientific American, 1972). One of his teachings is about what happens when we die. What he teaches produces an effect on me. Until recently I had never heard of Kelvin. Now, I feel compelled pay attention to what he is saying.
When our daughter, Stacey, was visiting us here in Michigan we watched Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. Very adolescent, mildly offensive, the NASCAR superstar Ricky Bobby (Will Ferrell) must pull himself out of the depths of despair and restore his honor on the racetrack. We had heard a lot of the lines from the movie, but now we have heard Ricky Bobby praying to 8 pound baby Jesus.
The time with Stacey was a lot of fun. She had a Michigan perfect weather-week. We rode bikes. We walked downtown at sunset. We ate. They drank. We laughed. We cried. The week was also a lot of work. Soul work.
As Stacey and I were shoulder-to-shoulder for hours assembling two 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzles, not all of our talk about Jesus was as laughable as Ricky Bobby’s 8 pound Baby Jesus. Both Stacey and her mom are obviously experiencing a spiritual crisis of sorts. Growing pains… As Stacey implored me to not take her faith away from her, I spoke the gospel truth, “I don’t want you to give up your faith. I would hope you will go MORE deeply into your faith, beyond the surface level where some are inside the circle and some are outside, to where your faith is an act of inclusion not exclusionary.”
We discussed how mystics of different traditions describe a common “reality” that seems to be summed up as the mystic and all of reality are One. The purpose of our individual spiritual growth is to achieve that oneness in our everyday experience, to transcend limited identity and re-identify with the all that is.
“Can you help me understand how a person who has never taken a flu shot, who teaches that germs don’t cause illness, that our own immune system is designed to keep us healthy came to the conclusion it is best to take the vaccine?” she queried.
“You have to see my world view to understand that,” I responded. “I don’t experience myself as separate from anything. I don’t buy bottled waters because I see the miles of toxic waste poisoning the ocean. I saw the face of my friend, who is a doctor (she and her husband are both doctors) having to decide who gets treated and who does not. I felt the pain of family not being able to be with their loved one who are dying. For me, my heart was so filled with this collective pain, I could not even experience a “personal” point of view. I don’t want to get the virus, I don’t want to give the virus. I want to alleviate as much suffering as I can. Any small personal inconvenience or possible risk was nothing compared to what I experienced as the impact on the whole.”
I went on to share that I had the benefit of personally knowing an epidemiologist who was intimately involved in all of this. He isolated. He masked. He and his wife got the vaccine as soon as possible. I had the experience of knowing a man whose son and daughter-in-law were living abroad working with an international team of scientists to develop a vaccine (knowing this sort of pandemic was inevitable). I had the benefit of the experience — if you would call it that — of losing a good friend and ministry colleague to Covid. She was in the hospital for pancreatitis in March when we went into lock-down. I heard her voice. I felt her fear. I know of the helplessness of her daughter, her grandson, and her husband as they were unable to be with her.
My experience meant I could not make a choice to knowingly risk that suffering for another.
You cannot un-know an experience. All of my experience shaped my choice.
A day or so later, as she was getting ready for bed, Stacey asked me to give her again the Reader’s Digest version of how I arrived at my conclusion. I could feel her desire to go beyond the understanding of her own heart to the ability to articulate that world view to another.
We talked about moving beyond our own effort and inviting nonphysical support in everything we do.
We shared how vulnerable it can feel as you let go of beliefs that have supported us in the past.
I told her if someone had been able to have this kind of conversation with me I may not have had to step outside of the Christianity I loved to continue to develop spiritually.
Kelvin references the different types of near death experiences of individuals quite simply: “Everybody interprets it through their own belief system, their own filters.”
My own near death experience occurred August 12, 1962. 59 years later, to-the-day, it seems I am still processing that all now.
Kelvin says after we let go of our physical bodies we recognize not just loved ones from this life who have already physically died, but also identifiable energy beings (old friends) from previous lives. Many previous lives…. and many old friends….
While out riding my bike I noticed how little “belief” I have access to at this stage of my experience. “I don’t know” could be an appropriate mantra. Maybe I would add, “And it does not matter,” but, of course, that might be a belief!
Stacey decided she would welcome help from a “Santa” Jesus.
I sent her this image to remind us both of the gifts of our disappearing dogma.
