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Bank Street Unitarian Chapel

Open Hearts Open Minds

Minister's Letter

August 2015


"Study the religions of the world, hearken devoutly to the psalms of the East and to the songs of the West, kneel silently in the temple of the Buddhist, join in the worship of the Jewish synagogue, or listen to the prayers of the Christian Church; in its essence all worship is one, for all religion is one; for all religion leads to God."

Gertrude von Petzol.

One of the joyful privileges I have in my role as minister is to host visits from "faith trail" participants. The Bolton Interfaith Council organises faith trails from any group to visit a Hindu temple, a Muslim mosque and a Christian church in one morning. Lots of groups use this opportunity but the most common groups are school children. It's wonderful that children have this opportunity to explore faiths and learn about their fellow citizens of different religions. It's something I certainly never did. Even though I grew up in multicultural Walsall, with many of my schoolmates being Muslims, it wasn't until I came to Bolton that I visited my first mosque.

When children visit us it is my challenge to try to explain what our faith is all about to sometimes quite small children. To explain that as Unitarians Jesus is important to us, but we also want to learn from all religious traditions. That learning can be hard and complicated, but it's worth doing. We must keep learning both from scriptures and writings of different religions as well as the living people practising their faith (as we all do) in human, ordinary and sometimes messy ways.

There aren't any simple answers to the world's problems, or the problems in our neighbourhoods. But as Unitarians we must be open to what we might learn from people different from us, in the belief (as the old hymn says) that "the Lord hath yet more light and truth to break forth from his word."

In love and peace.


Christianity and Killing

Words based on a talk given by Stephen Lingwood

to Bolton Friends Meeting House

2nd June 2015


So, the first thing to say is that this is a huge topic, and I can't hope to cover it comprehensively in our short time together this evening. What I hope to do is make an ecumenical Christian case for a modest proposal: for the Christian killing is a sin.

This seems to me to be a modest proposal, and yet one one which some Christians have abandoned. I want to tell the story of how this modest proposal was was abandoned, and the exact opposite put in its place. My argument is that Christians just need to keep that simple premise in their centre of their vision as they do theology and live in the world.

So, early Christianity took a stance against the shedding of human blood.

Jesus, of course, counsels turning the other cheek, and refused to contemplate violence when arrested. Early Christian writers such as Origen, Tertullian and Justin Martyr all taught that Christians could not shed blood for any reason.

Tertullian wrote "The Lord, by taking away Peter's sword, disarmed every soldier thereafter."i


It was clear that a soldier could not become a Christian without giving up his profession, or at least never bear a sword or shed blood. Athanasius wrote, "How does it come about that each one of us has turned away from his brother, despising the peace which we had been given? Yet your brother, your neighbour, is not only a man, but is God himself."ii So this incarnational theology held that all humans contained a divine spark, and so to harm any human being was to injure God.

But this slowly began to change. In 313 The Emperor Constantine issued the Edict of Milan which officially ended the persecution of Christians in the Roman Empire. Christians became first the favoured religion, and eventually the official state religion of the Roman Empire.

In 325 Constantine called a council of bishops at Nicaea to settle some theological questions so that a unified Christian church could provide stability for a united Roman Empire. The council did not settle questions such as whether a Christian could be a soldier, whether a Christian could hold power and wealth within this new context of imperial favour, although I would argue those were the pressing questions in this new context; rather the council produced a new Creed to settle subtle theological questions about the nature of Christ.

Jesus as a teacher of non-violence, humility, forgiveness, generosity and love is entirely absent as the Creed flows from Jesus being born of the Virgin Mary, to being crucified by Pontius Pilate. Everything that happened between those two sentences was made non-essential to Christian faith and practice.

Slowly, Christians went from being a persecuted minority to being made up of rulers, politicians and soldiers. By the fifth century the Theodosian Code made it a requirement for all soldiers to be Christians. And the cross became a symbol to paint on shields.

But Christians still in some sense stuck to the principle that killing was sinful, and struggled with what this might mean. One early fifth century document instructed:

"A Christian should not voluntarily become a soldier unless compelled to by someone in authority. He should have a sword, but he should not be commanded to shed blood. If it is ascertained that he has done so, he should stay away from the mysteries at least until he has been purified through tears and lamentation.iii

Christians who who killed for any reason - including soldiers - were expected to undergo penance before taking the Eucharist.

In the fifth century, as Christianity became mainstream, Augustine of Hippo grappled with whether killing in war could ever be justified. He is remembered for laying down some of the foundations of just war theory - setting out the (limited) circumstances in which war might be justified. However under this theory he could look at most of the wars waged by Rome and see that they weren't just. And he insisted that words like "glory" and "victory" should never be used to describe war as these were "disguises of wild delusion."iv

The point I want to make here, is that this remained the official teaching of the church for a thousand years. I'm not saying it was held to in all circumstances - it definitely wasn't - but there was a recognition, that to kill, even in self-defence, was to become polluted with sin. As late as the Norman invasion of 1066 after the campaign the Norman soldiers went to monasteries to do penance for their killing.

We only really see the last cultural fossil of this in the practice that if a member of the clergy is knighted, they are not "dubbed" with a sword. It's still seen as inappropriate for a clergyperson to be associated with this military practice.


So when did this change? It changed around the turn of the millennium when Northern Europe became Christianised in name but in many ways continued as a collection of divided and warring tribes. In 1095 Pope Urban II called a council of nobles, bishops and others in which he declared that there must be a truce between warring nations in Christendom and directed their attention to the "bastard Turks" who held "sway over our brothers" in Jerusalem.v This was the beginning of the Crusades in which Christian soldiers travelled to the Middle East to claim "the Holy Land" as a Christian land.

But this is also the significant turning point in the Christian position on violence. Urban II performed what could be the biggest U Turn in Christian theology and ethics. As an incentive to crusaders he said, "Whoever goes on the journey to free the church of God in Jerusalem... can substitute the journey for all penance for sin."vi So killing went from something that you needed to do penance for - to an act of penance itself. Killing went from a definite sin, to something that can bring about salvation from sin. Being a crusader got you into heaven.

War was now no longer something to be tolerated, something that could be just in some circumstances, but something that could in itself be "holy." The Christian church had gone from being anti-war, to tolerating just war in some circumstances to opening advocating for holy war.

The Crusaders set out on this "holy war" against the "infidels" but not before slaughtering about 10,000 Jews in the Rhineland, blaming them for "killing Jesus."

At the same time, a friend of the Pope, Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, began to develop a particular theology. This theology presented a vision of sin and salvation that went something like this:

Humanity had sinned against God, and therefore owed a God a debt,

but this debt could never be paid, because the sin against an infinite being made an infinite debt. So the only way the debt could be repaid would be if God became human, and then offered his life as a sacrifice that paid the debt.

This theology proposed for the first time that the sole purpose of Jesus' life was his sacrificial death. This theology made the incarnation, and the resurrection irrelevant. What mattered was the atoning death of Jesus.

This has become a dominant theology of salvation through later Protestantism and modern Evangelicalism. But it's still a theology that is quite alien to Eastern Orthodoxy, which still emphasises the incarnation.

This was the beginning of a Christianity that was centred on the crucifix. And it is only at around this time that the crucifix becomes the dominant Christian symbol. It might surprise you to know there were no crucifixes in the first one thousand years of Christianity. The earliest Christian churches show images of Jesus as the Good Shepherd - simple images of a man carrying a sheep. Later images showed a resurrected Christ, glorious and triumphant. But the image of a dead or dying Jesus does not appear until the tenth century. That is not the emphasis of theology or popular devotion.

But now the theology of Jesus' death becomes the lynchpin of Christianity. The Gero cross is the oldest know crucifix and was made in Saxony around 960. You can see it today in Cologne Cathedral. It represents the beginning of a cross-centred Christian spirituality. The Middle Ages represented a period when Christian theology and devotion centred around the cross, and suffering and violence. Writers such as Julian of Norwich, though insisting on the love of God, were largely concentrated on Jesus' gruesome death. If I read Julian's Revelations, I find some parts are beautiful and some parts radical, but most of it is gruesome. It's about blood and bleeding and death and wounds and blood and bleeding. It's about the cross.

This is the medieval cruciform spirituality. But it is also alive and well today, in both Catholicism and Protestantism.

Many can simply say that Jesus dying for your sins is the whole of Christianity.

Though this theology did exist earlier, it is only in the violence of the Crusades that this theology really becomes dominant.


Sometimes in conversations with mainstream Christians they assume that the Trinity is really the issue for me as a Unitarian, that's where we're going to disagree. But the Trinity, doesn't worry me hugely one way or another. But what I can't accept, is a theology with the crucifix at the centre. And it worries me, because it presents a picture of God using violence to achieve God's purposes. God achieves salvation through someone being tortured to death.

This is sometimes called the myth of redemptive violence. The idea that violence, that killing, is what redeems us. That salvation is achieved through violence. It's sometimes thought of as an image of divine child abuse. God is so angry with us that he's about to harm us, but Jesus, the son, steps in our place, and instead of us, Jesus is the one who gets beaten to death by the Father.

I can't believe that, I can't believe that the God revealed in the teaching and way of Jesus, uses violence to achieve salvation. That's not the picture of God Jesus actually gives. As the Unitarian William Ellery Channing wrote I cannot believe that there is a gallows at the centre of the universe.

Personally, I really can't get along with crucifix-centred Christianity. And that's a struggle, when for example, the Christian community in Bolton are putting on a Passion play, presenting the Christian message as fundamentally about the Cross. And every Good Friday I really struggle to go to ecumenical worship, that presents a theology of redemptive violence.


But I also want you to notice how this thinking has got so deep into our culture that it affects the "popular theology" that in some ways seems like it has nothing to do with Christianity. And that's showed in the way people sometimes talk about soldiers. Jesus Christ, and the soldier, both died for you. Killing, and being killed, are what saves us.

Think about how many times the myth of redemptive violence is used in our cultural and political discourse. How we talk about the noble sacrifice of soldiers in the same way we talk about the noble sacrifice of Jesus. This is not a coincidence!

This is a theology that is born out of the Crusades that has infected Christianity, and the broad culture of the west. It's a popular theology that violence is the way salvation is achieved, whether purely religiously or politically. This is the language of Remembrance Day as it is popularly marked. It all comes out of the Crusades. It is a theology of holy war.


But the non-violent tradition of Christianity wasn't completely extinguished, it couldn't be, at least while people could read the Gospels. Of course at the time of the Reformation the Bible could be printed cheaply and read in native languages by a much broader range of people for the first time. Many on reading the New Testament for themselves found that the standards taught there did not match what they saw in the church.

Some Anabaptist movements took the teaching of Jesus at face value and committed to Christian non-violence. And of course those traditions continue to this day, not least in the Society of Friends.

Of course we could say that today the Christian church in our society is a lot less savage and violent. We're not preaching crusades and most Christians would be horrified by the war-mongering of those years. However, I think that change has largely come through Enlightenment humanism rather than through mainstream Christianity really wrestling with and rejecting the redemptive violence theology of the Crusades. I think that theology is still there.

The theology of holy war has not been expunged from the church and from society.


So here is what my modest proposal to Christians would be:

Not to go all the way to a a complete rejection of violence, but simply this: to go back to a pre-Crusades theology that acknowledges that killing is sinful.

Always and everywhere sinful. Not holy, always the opposite of holy.

In the early Christian church a Christian was forbidden from the sacraments if they had killed, until they had gone through a period of penance. Though you might think this is judgemental and designed to induce guilt, it seems to me to be actually quite healthy. It acknowledges that to kill someone is to undergo trauma. Killing really harms the soul in a very serious way. There is something profoundly unnatural about killing. And we know so many soldiers and service people suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. This process says - you need to come through a process of healing, repentance, reconciliation for being involved in the act of killing, to be able to come fully to the table of God. Those involved in the act of killing are also victims. It is sin - it is a brokenness of the world that affects all. Are we really serving those who have been a part of war by pretending otherwise?

A pre-crusades, a pre-holy war Christian theology does not shy away from naming killing as sinful, as evil, as unclean. A gun, a sword, are unclean objects, representing a rejection of holiness. By this extension war is always evil, always sinful, always tragic. Now even if you accept circumstances when you might believe fighting is the lesser of two evils, is it still an evil.

So again, my modest proposal accepts some Christians might in some limited circumstances see war as a necessity, but that it is never glorious, never victorious, never holy, never to be celebrated. For the Christian, killing is sin.

And this really is modest. It is really only a rejection of the concept of holy war and crusade. And yet it is not what we hear from many of our politicians and religious leaders, who are still working out of a crusade theology.

My hope would be, if Christians could accept this modest proposal, and change the popular discourse around these things, then at least war would only ever be entered into very reluctantly by our nation. And that, at least, would be an improvement.

iSaving Paradise 184

iiSaving Paradise 184

iiiSaving Paradise 184

ivSaving Paradise 105

vSaving Paradise 263


viSaving Paradise 264

Minister's Letter

July 2015


"Hate is not going to win."

A resident of Charleston.


As I write this I am thinking of the terrorist hate crime that has taken place in Charleston, South Carolina, USA. A few days ago a man enter into Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, joined in a Bible study, but then half way through pulled out a gun and and killed nine people, including staff and ministers of this historic African American church.

This has come after months of different incidents in the US that involved police attacking African Americans. At best these incidents appear to be overly authoritarian policing, at worst they have been murder.

I have been reminded in these days of my small experience when living in the United States of experiencing the American black church tradition. This is a dynamic and powerful Christian tradition (often with excellent and compelling preaching); but it is also a tradition born out of oppression, violence and racism. The United States of American is still deeply scarred by racism borne of centuries of slavery and white supremacism.

Of course, in Britain, our history and culture is different, but it is still one that has its own racism with which we should wrestle. Black denominations were formed in the 1950s in Britain because immigrants from the Caribbean were made to feel decidedly unwelcome in the British churches. We should not be resting on our laurels as there are still ways that the subtle evil of racism infects our culture, attitudes and beliefs.

If we truly wish to welcome all within our chapel, and create a just society outside it, we should be prepared to sit with these uncomfortable truths and be prepared to change. That is how we make sure hate loses and love wins.

In love and peace.




The place of facts in the spiritual journey

A Reflection based on words delivered by Stephen Lingwood

17th May 2015

You might remember the song "They All Laughed" written by the Gershwin brothers and performed by Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire from the 1937 movie Shall We Dance:

"They all laughed at Christopher Columbus when he said the world was round

They all laughed when Edison recorded sound

They all laughed at Wilbur and his brother when they said that man could fly"

It's a song about not going along with crowd, because the majority aren't always right. Sometimes you have to think for yourself against the majority opinion. A good song for this month's theme of curiosity, when we're thinking about being a seeking questioning faith. But, in this case, if we are curious, and do seek things out, we find, ironically, that the song is in fact wrong, on one point. They didn't laugh at Christopher Columbus when he said the world was round. In Christopher Columbus' time everyone knew the world was round. And he certainly didn't set out on his voyage to prove the world was round.

The idea that people used to think the earth was flat is, in fact, a bit of a myth. Medieval philosophers knew the earth was round, ancient Greeks knew the earth was round. Almost everyone who thought about it at all, knew the earth was round. They didn't think it was flat.

A lot of the things we think we know are wrong. And there's a lot we don't know.

As we think about curiosity as a spiritual value this month today I want to think about the place of facts in the spiritual journey, and our need to seek out facts as well as truth.

I love a good fact. There are so many interesting things to find out in the world. My original life plan was to become a scientist and so I am still very much driven by the love of discovering new things. A lot of my facts nowadays come from the television show QI, one of my favourite things on telly. Here's some good facts:

The number of people living in caves in China today outnumbers the total population of the world in the stone age.

Blackboard chalk is almost never made of chalk

A sponge (the animal) can be put into a blender, mashed up, if you put it back into a jar, it will reassemble itself

An armadillo's shell is so tough if you fired a gun at it, the bullet would bounce off

If you jumped into a tunnel that went to the centre of the earth, it would take 38 minutes to come out the other end.

Now these are fun facts, but there are other types of facts as well. Like the fact that the Baka people of Cameroon have an ancient myth about God creating humans that were immortal and lived in a beautiful paradise. There was the tree of one fruit that was forbidden, but the woman ate it, and then the man, God found out, punished them, threw them out of paradise so that they would now feel pain and be mortal. This seems to be the origin of this myth that made it into Egypt and then into the Middle East.

Now I find that fascinating, but if you believe that the Genesis story describes history, and is without error, then this might undermine your world view. The Bible is full of plagiarism from other religions and cultures.

But here's the point I want to make: facts are always good. Facts, if they are truly facts, lead us closer to truth and so need to be welcomed by a liberal faith like ours. If tomorrow they discovered the body of Jesus, proving that he did not rise from the dead, then we would have to absolutely affirm that fact and take it on board. Or if a document was discovered that proved beyond reasonable doubt that Jesus never existed, that it was all made up, then we would have to absolutely affirm that fact and take it on board. And this would be a good thing. Now these things haven't happened. But new discoveries have been made, new Gospels have been discovered, like the Gospel of Thomas. Now if you want to follow Jesus, why would you not be really curious about these new gospels? Why isn't every Christian church reading these gospels out? If you're curious about Jesus, why would you ignore these? Because it threatens your religious world view. But if we take curiosity seriously we must take on all we can even if it disturbs our world view.

As I said, I am scientifically inclined, and my science does influence my faith. Here are some facts that I think, should affect the way we think about spiritual things.

We, Homo sapiens, are only one species, out of the millions of species that do exist and have existed on earth. We are a tiny twig, on a tiny twig, on a tiny branch of the tree of life.

We have been here for a very short time. If we think of the whole of earth history, 4.5 billion years, as one 24 hour period, then life appears at 4am. But its just single celled life until about 8.30 in the evening when we get complicated life forms. It's 11pm before we get dinosaurs and they're extinct at 11.39. It's 11.58.43 before there are humans on earth. All of human civilisation, all of history, as opposed to "prehistory" lasts a few seconds. We have been here a very short time.

And we are so very small. We are one planet, orbiting one star, in one galaxy. There might be 400 billion stars in our Milky Way, our galaxy. And more than 100 billion galaxies in our universe (as far as we know). So there are possibly 10 billion billion stars in the universe. That means there are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on every beach on earth. So think about that when you're at a beach, staring at millions of grands of sand that make up a beach. There are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on every beach on the planet. We are so very small. "The universe does not revolve around you," as Lynn Ungar wrote. This stuff begins to blow my mind when I think about it. It makes me think of times when I've laid on my back staring up at a perfect night sky, seeing the thousands of stars in this universe. And I've sometimes had moments of almost panic, when I've felt I was looking down, instead of up, which I am in a way, and it's only this force of gravity that prevents me from falling down into this infinite drop into the universe.

And there are two, kind of terrifying, options we have. Either we are alone in this huge universe, we are the only things in this vast universe that can ask these questions, and wonder at these things. Or, we're not. And there are thousands, or millions, or billions of alien civilisations; each with their own understandings of truth; each with their own cultures, and their own religions.

And we think we can pronounce about God, about the meaning of life, about the universe?!

How arrogant we must be if we think we are anywhere near the full truth of it all!

As our hymn said, the God of galaxies has more to govern than once was thought when... well, when the Bible was written, or any other major religion was founded. The universe is vast. And we are small. Curiosity needs to be coupled with humility. That is a scientific spirituality. There is so much more than we know.

And yet we can say this, we really can: it is wonderful. It is beautiful. We are part of it. A great dance. A great symphony, that we are invited to join in. Though we are small, we are a part of this great beautiful universe. Humans are amazing. We are amazing. You are amazing. We can join in the song.

And facts can only get us so far to the truth. There's a point when we must turn to poetry. Because we must respond to the world, not only with awe, but also with love. We must love the universe. And in a strange way, realise that the universe loves us. Our lives are deeply meaningful. We can find joy and depth and love in the ordinariness of our lives. Though you are small, you are also, incredibly important. As I say, a truth that can only be apprehended with poetry, and not with facts.

The universe, the beautiful, joyous universe, takes your hand, and asks you to dance. How will you respond?

Holy Curiosity

A Reflection by Stephen Lingwood

based on words delivered 10th May 2015

Every Wednesday lunchtime as a Chaplain at the University of Bolton I sit in the university cafe and try to chat to whoever wants to chat to me. Some conversations start spontaneously, but at other times I give out little postcards with a question on to try to encourage people to have a deeper conversation. Those questions can be about anything from politics, to ethics, to philosophy, to religion.

A few weeks ago I had a question about the afterlife - what, if anything, people thought there was after death. A woman sat down next to me and read the card and I asked for her opinion. Well, luckily for me, this person knew the exact answer! She told me you have to give your life to Jesus, you have to be born again, and that that is the only way to heaven, the only way to salvation. We talked for quite a long while, as she jumped on the chance to try to persuade me of this truth.

"What do you think is God's name?" she asked me,

"I think God has many names," I said.

No. I was told in no uncertain terms, God has one name. The name is Jesus. The only name by which anyone could be saved.

I tried to engage with this conversation. I tried to be really open to the belief that we could both learn from each other in this encounter. I believed that, even if she didn't. But to be honest, the whole encounter sorted of rubbed me up the wrong way. There was something about the insistent, aggressive nature of this "evangelism" (it didn't feel like "good news") that hacked me off, if I'm honest.

I've tried to think about what it was that annoyed me about this conversation. I think I felt patronised, and belittled, and just a bit steamrollered by this person.


What I really struggle with is the absolute certainty of fundamentalism. Fundamentalism is all about certainty; in an uncertain world, it offers certainty, and that's why it's popular. That's why it fills a need in the modern world.

But what fundamentalism displays most powerfully is a fundamental lack of curiosity. This woman showed little curiosity about my position, about my faith. And why would she? She had the truth (so she believed). And if you have the truth, and the whole truth, you never need to be curious again, because there's nothing more to know. There's certainty, and there's no need to be curious ever again.

And this lack of curiosity can also be displayed at the other extreme of atheist fundamentalism, the kind displayed by Richard Dawkins. Dawkins shows no real curiosity about religion. He believes he knows it's all rubbish and so can write a book about religion without ever talking to any experts on religion, or reading any books on religion, or even engaging with other secular pursuits like history and sociology and cultural studies and literature. No: his overarching theory of evolutionary biology he believes can explain everything, so there's no need for him to engage with anything else that might give a different perspective. As one reviewer of Richard Dawkins wrote, "Imagine someone holding forth on biology whose only knowledge of the subject is the Book of British Birds, and you have a rough idea of what it feels like to read Richard Dawkins on theology."

For a scientist he displays a complete lack of curiosity.

Fundamentalism is about certainty, it's saying, "Look at me, I've worked out the very nature of the universe, the very nature of existence. Lucky me. I don't need to be curious ever again."

The opposite of this, the liberal way, the Unitarian way, is to see curiosity as a foundational spiritual practice.


Albert Einstein said, "The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when [one] contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvellous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity."

For us, curiosity is holy. Even as far back as the 1770s when Joseph Priestley led the first generation of Unitarians, he could say that we must keep inquiring, keep being curious, using our reason, even if it should destroy Christianity. What a radical statement to make 250 years ago!

What makes us Unitarians is the belief that truth is constantly unfolding, constantly revealing more and more to us to understand and see, and we must remain curious, otherwise we will miss something of the truth.

We're not here because we have all the answers. We might sometimes wish we did. I know I do. I know I am jealous, in many ways, of the person who says they have all the answers. But I know I'm turning my back on truth if I believed that, and I can't do it.

We're not here because we're certain. We're not here because we've worked it all out. We're not here because we have the answer to the very meaning of the universe.

We're here because we're curious.

We're here because we have glimpsed the beauty, the power, the deeper meaning in life, and we want to find more.

Last week I told the story of two tiny frogs living in a flower. Their whole lives they had lived inside the flower, there was water and nectar inside these large flowers at the top of trees in the rainforest, and they had no idea about the rest of the world. Until one day one frog climbs to the edge of the flower, peeks over the edge and sees the whole rainforest, the whole rest of the universe.

One frog wants to explore the rest of the universe, while the other frog is quite content to stay where she is. One frog is curious. She is prepared to go out into the big wide dangerous world, and see what there is to be explored. The other frog believes she has all the answers, that the flower is all there is, and there's no need to explore anything else.

Some mystics use the image of a baby in the womb saying, "Clearly there's no evidence of anything else than the womb. The womb is all there has been, all there will be, it provides me with all I need, why I should I worry myself with any wild speculation about the world outside the womb? Clearly it's all nonsense."


Don't be content with the small answers, keep curious, keep exploring, keep doubting.

The Buddha is supposed to have said,

"Believe nothing because a wise man said it.

Believe nothing because it is generally held.

Believe nothing because it is written.

Believe nothing because it is said to be divine.

Believe nothing because someone else believes it.

But believe only what you yourself judge to be true."

And so we must keep on this path of curiosity, believing and doubting along the way. And it's OK to doubt. It's OK to doubt what you are told by books, by authorities, and by me. It's good for us to doubt sometimes our politicians, and our newspapers, when they tell us the way it is, it ain't necessarily so.

And it's OK to struggle with our spiritual beliefs. It's OK to doubt everything, to be unsure whether you believe in God, unsure what God is, unsure of any religious doctrine. It's OK sometimes to say, "I don't know. I don't know. I'm not sure," as long as we keep moving, keep exploring, keep curious.


But our curiosity, our lack of certainty, shouldn't be an excuse for never committing to anything or never deepening our spiritual lives. The Buddha provides some useful guidance on this.

One of the things you should always be curious, and sceptical about is quotes from the Buddha. There are a lot of quotes that you see on the Internet that are supposed to be from the Buddha, but on closer inspection you find out that they're a bit dodgy. Ironically, really, the quote I just read out is a bit dodgy. The one that says, "believe nothing because a wise man said it.... believe only what you yourself judge to be true." I'm guilty of thinking this was a real quote from the Buddha and I even included it on the handout on curiosity that I gave out last week. But this week I was a bit more curious and did some research, and found that this is the real quote,

"The Blessed One said, "Don't go by reports, by legends, by traditions, by scripture, by logical conjecture, by inference, by analogies, by agreement through pondering views, by probability, or by the thought, 'This contemplative is our teacher.' When you know for yourselves that, 'These qualities are skilful; these qualities are blameless; these qualities are praised by the wise; these qualities, when adopted and carried out, lead to welfare and to happiness' — then you should enter and remain in them.""

And as you can see, it's sort of similar, but not really the same. The context of this is a some folks who said to Buddha, "Look we get a lot of religious types coming here with their teachings, their wisdom. How are we supposed to know which ones to follow?" It's a question about choosing a spiritual path, choosing who to trust as a source of spiritual wisdom. And the Buddha says, "not by tradition or scripture, or authority, not even by logic. But when you see that those who practice and teach the spiritual path create welfare and happiness in the world." In other words this teaching is not about "believing what you yourself judge to be true" it's actually echoing what Jesus taught, "by their fruits you will know them." It's saying we follow the spiritual path that we can see gives joy and welfare to those who follow it and to the world.

So certainty is not possible, because of the unfolding, evolving nature of truth, and we must be open and curious to the world. But just because certainty is not possible, doesn't mean we can't choose a spiritual path that will give us Life. We can't have certainty, but we can experience that which will make us more compassionate, more content, more open-eyed to the world, more loving.

Be curious. And experience for yourself the wonder, the awe, and the Depth of this world which fills our hearts with joy.



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