On the calendar of the Christian year, today is the beginning of Holy Week. The events of this week, in terms of their centrality to the religion, are foundational, the equivalent of the Exodus to Judaism. (And given the close family connection between the two, there is always the dance between Holy Week and Passover, which begins toward the end of Holy Week, at least this year).
So here we are at Palm Sunday, telling the story of the joyous entrance into Jerusalem of the G_d-saturated teacher and healer Jesus with his dozen students, cheered by an unknown number of exultant followers. By Friday, their dream will be traumatically, agonizingly shattered, leaving the students scattered and wandering, his followers bewildered, grief-stricken, and lost.
It is easy enough to make a connection between where this week is going for them and how it will wind up for anyone who encounters a distressing NDE during this time. Those of us who’ve “been there” know the feelings all too well, and we don’t like where this is going. (One of my good friends, years back, finally realized that he kept seeing the classic Norma Shearer film Marie Antoinette over and over in the passionate hope that just once, she would escape the end he knew was coming.) We want to push back, keep it from happening.
But life never gives only Palm Sunday. And as depth psychologist and spiritual director Dr. David G. Benner observes,
Although we seldom hear it presented in these terms, Christian spirituality is primarily about the transformation of consciousness and identity.
So many Christians—and so many spiritual and religious people of all doctrines—have never realized that this is what it’s all about, this transformation, and that particular beliefs or practices are merely means to that end, not the end in themselves.
(And if your feathers are fluffed because Benner mentions Christianity specifically, please keep in mind that he knows perfectly well that the statement applies more broadly, but he is writing to his particular audience.)
A transformation is something that happens between our Here and our There, calling up the metaphor of a journey. What we keep considering in these posts is the hard part of our individual journeys, the struggling part that we wish we could keep from happening. Whether that pain and struggle originates at the inside of a spiritual experience or, as with many glorious NDEs, afterward, in the days of grief and loss when the light seems gone, the hard times inexorably happen, and we are unable to change that.
Benner continues,
But one thing is clear. The self that begins this journey is never the self that ends it. The self that emerges during this journey is larger, more enlightened, and more whole. This journey is one that all humans are invited to make.
We have our own Passovers, sending us into the wilderness, and we have our own Holy Weeks, which seem like the end of everything good. Whatever made us think that the journey of spiritual transformation could be easy!
This is a good week for reflection. Who was the self who began your journey, and why do you suppose that person had that particular experience? What have you learned about yourself and the experience since? Have you allowed yourself to become “larger, more enlightened, and more whole,” or are you still fighting back?
You can read Benner’s full post at his blog, Something to Ponder. It’s brief and packed with–as he says–things to ponder. (If clicking on the title doesn’t work, go to http://ow.ly/a1mEC.)
annewhitaker says
‘Although we seldom hear it presented in these terms, Christian spirituality is primarily about the transformation of consciousness and identity.’
Hi Nan, you have struck a deep chord for me yet again! We belong to our local St Mary’s Cathedral here in Glasgow, Scotland, an inclusive, open and welcoming place where I have at last been able to find a sufficiently open-minded place to sit at peace with my diverse spiritual influences and experiences. Having quite some time ago realised what Benner is talking about, aided by my 2001-8 Underworld experiences, (all recorded, none as yet publicly written about) it is so refreshing to find your site and the brilliant contacts which I am in the process of mining already. More anon!
Sandy N. says
Hello Nan,
Your last few posts and the comments have given me much to think about. I’m so glad to have found this website, and I plan to get your book. In one of your posts, you talk about the pain of transformation, and leaving old certainties behind. My situation is a bit different. I grew up traumatized by the hellfire and damnation preaching of my childhood. Over the years I left it behind, and reframed and reinterpreted those terrifying images, coming to a place of what Frank Shaeffer (another recovering fundamentalist) calls “hopeful uncertainty”. What the vicarious experience of learning about negative NDE’s has done is stir up all that old trauma from childhood. I’m just trying not to go backwards, which incidentally, is not even possible for me. I think what would help me is to have some other ways to interpret these experiences, besides the traditional. I don’t need certainty anymore, just possibilities. So, when is your book coming out?
nanbush says
We could talk for hours! Yes, yes, and yes, my whole premise is that we need bigger vocabularies with which to explain these experiences, different ways of understanding them than the unhelpful punitive stories The book will have to do some of it for me–the ebook version should be available within the next two weeks. Then I’ll start on getting a paperback out. Until then (well, maybe even after then!), keep coming back here.
rabbitdawg says
Sandy, I share your sentiments all the way. Sometimes, I think my interest in distressing NDE’s is comparable to a rabbit transfixed by the sight of a snake, unsure if there is an adequately safe distance between them.
Nancy is good therapy for that. 🙂
Sandy says
Thanks, Rabbitdawg. I enjoy reading your posts.
Sandy says
Nan,
I having a couple of burning questions that can’t wait. What do YOU think? Is the Universe friendly? And, do you fear death?