The Sacredness of Scripture
One of the little known facts about my background is that I attended a seminary to work toward a master’s degree in divinity. I loved the year-and-a-half of intense study. I felt whole when immersed in history, theology, and questions about the Christ and the Universe. One might suppose that this intense indulgence answered my own most pressing spiritual question:
Are the Scriptures really sacred?
In other words, are they, as the Church Fathers imply, written by the hand of God?
From a spiritual perspective, this is a crucial question. It doesn’t only apply to the Christian faith. Nearly every religion or spiritual practice asserts validity through intuitive revelation, whether visions, visitations, channeling, or insights. If a Scripture is truly sacred—delivered from On High—then we are supposed to follow its strictures and wisdom. If it is pretty much a human deal, well then, there is a lot more leeway.
During my seminary years, I was willing to entertain the idea that Scripture was at least partially scripted by the Divine, but I could not maintain that attitude. I left the seminary more confused than when I entered.
I wasn’t your garden-variety seminar student. I am not sure they had ever had an “intuitive consultant” insdie their walls, much less someone who had authored a book on the chakras. While chakras were hardly a Christian phenomenon, I was startled by the violent reaction against them. Several churches banned me.. I was castigated by many of my “born again” friends. The primary argument used was that chakras aren’t in the Bible. I pointed out that microwave ovens aren’t in there either, but Christians still believe in them. The argument didn’t carry me very far, nor did my standing in the faith increase when someone found out that my material, though scholarly, was also partially “revealed.” Apparently, I was not the sort of person God would commune with.
Then there was the evening Bible study for couples. The subject of one particular evening was—you have probably already guessed it—wifely submission to a husband. It seems a servile attitude (from only one of the matched pair) double-blesses the couple. I questioned the reasoning, quoting statistics that show that men aren’t really, in general, any smarter than women. I was told it was not about intelligence. Rather, God invests more power in the men.
You would think I would have recognized the fact that logic wasn’t really the point among Christians, but I couldn’t avoid the next question that popped out of my mouth.
“What about situations in which the husband is abusive?” I wondered.
I was told that if the wife just prayed more and harder, God would be able to get through to the husband.
I really do try to get along with people, no matter their belief system. But I’ve never been able to shift beyond basic logic. So I said:
“It seems to me that if God can’t get through to an abusive husband on His own, He’s certainly not going to get any farther because the wife is wasting her time praying instead of taking care of herself and her kids.”
I never returned to that particular group and I don’t think I was missed.
Okay, I hit a few brick walls on the Christian side of the paradigm. To my surprise, there were more than a few bricks thrown at me from the “other side” as well. One client quit working with me because he was homosexual. He assumed I was prejudiced because I was in the seminary. (He had not heard me ask dozens of Christians what made it hard to interpret the “unconditional” part of the belief in God’s unconditional love.) Yet another woman stopped working with me because she was afraid I would preach to her the same way as Billy Graham did to his flock. Hmmm. The night before, a pastor had suggested that I act a little more like Mrs. Billy Graham in my marriage, to which I had replied, “Why, that would be adultery.”
Eventually I dropped out of the seminary and continued pursuing my research and writing in energy medicine. While I maintain myself as a follower of Christ, I do not make it public knowledge. I left the question of the sacredness of Scripture in a compartment in my heart, locked it up, and threw away the key.
Just last week, though, I had a breakthrough.
What if I had been asking the wrong question all this time?
What if it doesn’t REALLY MATTER the exact origin of all these spiritual “facts”? What if the important point is:
We are each a Sacred Scripture of the Divine.
The Divine has written truth in me; moreover, I am an actual page of the Divine’s Bible.
As are you.
As is everything and everyone. Aren't we all reflections of the Divine? A special and noteworthy essence of the Greater Truth?
My message to the world is unique, as am I. I AM a revelation. That means it is more important that I learn how to correctly and lovingly “read myself” than someone else’s diary of self. And then—because I’m interconnected with all others, it’s also vital to learn to “read” others, not from my own viewpoint alone, but through their eyes.
We can misread ourselves. We do it all the time. We misread others. We do that all the time as well. That is where the Divine comes in. The Divine can help me see where I am blind; hear where I am deaf; and think when I have no knowledge. There is a sacredness to Scripture—and it is writ on my own heart.