On Doctrine, Dogma, and Losing Your Way

Doctrine and dogma are important and have a firm purpose in most religions--after one has come to believe, doctrine and dogma define the parameters of that belief--they codify and crystallize what it is that one must believe to be a member of that faith.  They define the community of faith--they tell the truths of the faith.

But too often it seems they become the end of the faith.  Rather than believing in God or Jesus one believes the doctrine of the Church.  One states a dogmatic creed that defines the contours of the story of the faith and sometimes the faith does not go below the surface of that creed.  Doctrine and dogma are important, but they can become stultifying.

It would seem that the approach one should take in these matters is strive to understand the doctrine and dogma that define the faith and then, let them go.  Don't worry about them--if you believe what is stated, then it seems best to turn your mind elsewhere and rather than worrying the details to death, arguing and apologizing, living your faith is the best exposition of it.  The faith, if true, needs no defense.  The errors of others are their errors and will either be remedied in time through deepening understanding, or will remain forever.  Either way, arguing the matter isn't likely to change most people's minds.

A focus on doctrine and dogma is the surest path to losing your way entirely.  It is the certain path of losing all compassion because one's obsession becomes being right rather than right action and right disposition. A good understanding of what one believes is essential, but a constant discussion of the fine points of the nature of that belief can be distracting from what we are called to in this life.  Living a faith of compassion, loving-kindness, and caring for others and for ourselves.

The Effects of Judgment

Before I continue to discuss whom we should not (and all too often do) judge, it seems salutary to say a little something about judgment.  Perhaps an example from classical mythology would give us context to understand why judgment is, in general, a negative activity even when the judgment being made is a positive, affirmative judgment.

For a moment let us turn our eyes to that most famous of judgments--one that resulted in no end of calamity for two peoples--The Judgment of Paris.  We all know the story--in order to foment discord Eris, goddess of discord, threw a golden apple in amongst the gathering of the chief goddesses of Olympos.  They fought over it and it was determined that the prize should go to the one judged most beautiful.  It fell to Paris to make this judgment and the prize went to Aphrodite.  In return for his judgment, Aphrodite provided him with the wife of his dreams, who also happened to be the wife of another man.  And so the Trojan war is precipitated because of a judgment.

In so many ways, this wraps together the strands of what is wrong with judgment, even approbation, or a judgment to the good.  Judgment inextricably binds us to the one being judged. Jesus made it clear with a fundamental law of judgment--Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.(Matthew 7: 1-2).  The judgment we render on others will be rendered on us.

Now, this seems not to be too terrible a matter if the judgment we are giving is good; however, the act of judgment is, itself problematic, because it supposes some standing by which we have authority to make such a judgment.  The act of judgment in some way always assumes that the other is subject to judgment.  In a sense it objectifies a person. A person now has become the subject of a judgment.  In itself, this is an attitude that removes dignity.

Judgment inextricably binds the one judging and the one judged and binds them in a way that is always negative because the underlying assumption of judgment is this standing to judge.

But perhaps the strongest negative impact of judgment is that it robs us of joy.  Let's take a matter of much lesser importance--say the judgments that lead us to our taste in music.  By deciding that we do not care for something that is harmless in itself, we are depriving ourselves of an opportunity to enjoy some of life's good things.  Let's say I decide that country music is for the rubes and that one as sophisticated as myself can't have anything to do with it.  In so doing I bar myself from the pleasures of a Patsy Cline or a Hank Williams or a Willie Nelson.  When something that sounds vaguely country shows up on the radio i begin spinning the dial (or pressing buttons) to find something else.  I have excluded myself from something that could be a source of great joy.

Ultimately judgment reveals an enormous lack of humility.  It is in this respect that perhaps the greatest service and the greatest damage is done.  If we can realize that in making a judgment we are puffing ourselves up at the cost of others, then we can turn away from judgment and pick up compassion where we left off.  If, on the other hand, we confirm ourselves in our judgment and stand on our right to judge, then we once again condemn ourselves through making the judgment--we live in our arrogance and in our pride and we wall ourselves off from the needs of others.

Purpose--Simon, Son of John, Do You Love Me?

Those who know me from elsewhere will know me; to others, I remain for the time being a little anonymous in so much as blogger allows that anonymity.  This is neither from shame nor from pride, but rather so that others might better see themselves in some of the things I share.

As the description indicates, I have lately discovered that I have willingly, though largely unknowingly limited my life by the implicit freedom I have given myself to judge everyone and everything around me.  This is a terribly human and ordinary thing to do, but it is, as I have said, a limiting thing because all of one's choices become oriented toward these judgments and one tends in the direction one has started. It has only recently occurred to me that life of joy is comprised of a life of boundless compassion for one's fellow travelers.

Hence, this blog--a blog of resolutions and accountability--you who read will know my successes and my failures and this public confession of them will either strengthen the resolution or show that it has no validity to start with.

A most important point:  no resolution embarked upon by my will alone and through my own power will ever amount to much more than the life of a mayfly.  I might manage for a day or two to stick to what I have said I will do--but without grace and God's constant ongoing support of the effort, it will come to nothing.  Because I believe that God Himself, simple in nature, is the face of Boundless Compassion, there can be nothing He more desires that we join ourselves completely to that expression of Him.  He has taught this countless times, through countless prophets, and countless revelations--both those recognized by all major faiths and those that come to individuals in the stillness of their hearts.

In John 21, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?"  Three times he asked this and each time Simon Peter answered, "Lord, you know I do."  What then does Jesus say about Simon Peter's love for Him?  "Feed my sheep."  As with Simon Peter, my love for Him is revealed in how I conduct my life here on Earth among His brothers and sisters--my brothers and sisters.  That is the instruction Jesus has given each of us about how to show our love for Him.  "Feed my sheep."

And so this will serve as a little record of my attempts to listen to this command.  As well as the prayers and the strengthening help that day by day will make God's grace known to me.

Simon, on of John, do you love me?

I am not Simon, but I have come to know that this question is asked of me.

And more importantly the response Jesus gives--"Feed my sheep."  That too is directed to me, for no one is free of the responsibility of being part of the family--we are all called to feed one another.