Spiritual Threshold

“Now, Kalamas, 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 skillful; 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.”

-- Gautama Siddharta (Buddha, 563-483 B.C.)

The threshold of a church used to be as close as I dared go to one, safely. There was no proof that anything negative would occur were I to cross the threshold.  Yet, I would wander around outside, visit with the wedding party, tug at my tie, and generally look uncomfortable until someone finally said, "We better go find a seat," at which point my hands would go clammy and my mouth would go dry. I would try my best to wait until the last minute before slowly approaching the front doors. I would stop with my toes on the line separating concrete walkway from the tiled foyer, and look down at that threshold as I took a tentative step across, squeezing my eyes shut before I placed one heel down on tile; waiting for my well-deserved lightning flash followed the fully expected and resounding explosion of thunder.  If nothing happened, I would then dare to bring the other foot forth.  My sins were forgivable, but I still had a fear of being smitten by the Mighty Smiter.  My fears were driven by blind faith in the wrath of a God handed down, in a culture of Catholicism, from when I was a child. 

I would dab at the cold sweat beading on my brow before following my mother, girlfriend, or wife to our seats, hopefully toward the back and usually at the front, where I was going to be subjected to mental torture for the next hour. I counted another blessing when it wasn't a drawn-out Catholic wedding, and a third if the Mass wasn't in Latin. I reasoned that all the standing, sitting, kneeling, and then repeat, in any Catholic service, was due to the physical danger caused by lack of blood flow from sitting on a hard church bench for a couple of hours with no chance of a seventh-inning stretch. One would jump at the chance to walk to the front for Communion, just to get the blood flowing back to your feet. I wonder if the priest realized that blessed, contented, look we all possessed was, along with receiving the Lord's host, also due to receiving back the comfortable warmth of feeling we lost below our knees.

At each of my visits to holy ground, no lightning strike ever materialized and, therefore, no small pile of ash had to be vacuumed up or swept away.

It finally dawned on me, somewhere along my life, the reason there was no feared lightning strike was that I was expecting it. Not really God's style, that. What good the lesson if you don't learn it for yourself? So I became aware that God would punish me for any transgressions in numerous small ways, spanking me again and again. Of course, I well knew, as with any father, this would hurt God more than it hurt me. Fear and pain was not the object of the lesson.  So it was that I found myself freely entering holy ground, yet looking up with one eye closed, just in case, and uttering a silent thanks for the free pass.

Later, I developed a habit of going into the church early so I could have a private moment with the powers that be. I would take this short time to ask blessings and assistance for those around me, as well as forgiveness for my own shortcomings as a person of faith, and as a sinner of which there is no doubt. I think it was in these moments I developed a personal relationship with God, Christ, and the Blessed Mother. My relationship with Mary is most special in my heart; I know this because all I have to do is stand before her effigy and I begin to cry freely. Perhaps this show of emotion is due to the attachment to one's own mother only, here, on the spiritual plane.

A loving God should not be feared, as long as you toe the line. Like any child, we have lessons to learn, and tutoring if we have a tough go of it. Crossing the line, the threshold, from religious to spiritual, can be such a lesson. The answers, for many of these lessons, are found not in traditions, scripture, and the like.  More often, the answers to our questions are found in what we discover for ourselves.

I found in the Blessed Mother a calming influence, and it became evident to me that in Her I found a mirror of the emotion, discipline, love, and forgiveness I would find at home; the discipline of the father, the understanding of the mother, and the older brother I never had with his unerring balance, intuition, and sweet reasonableness.

I stood on the threshold of love,

fearing to enter the house of my family,

where I found unconditional love

and easy expectations;

To search, grow, love, minister,

show tolerance and understanding,

and try, and when trying fails,

ask "Why?"

Do not strive for the Kingdom of God,

for heaven surrounds us.

We are the custodians of it,

and the ministers of all which is good.

We already enjoy everlasting life,

how we live it is at hand.

From one life to the next we grow,

learning to be worthy.

I stood on the threshold of love;

ever present, unconditional, love,

with only expectations of myself,

to be worthy of those around me. 

Editor's Note

(Re: disclaimer cum "get out of jail free" card)

Before you go getting your panties in a bunch, it is essential to understand that this is just an opinion site and, as such, can be subjected to scrutiny by anyone with a differing opinion. It doesn't make either opinion any more right or wrong than the other. An opinion, presented in this context, is a way of inciting others to think and, hopefully, to form opinions of their own, if they haven't already done so. This is also why, occasionally, I will present an "opinion" just to stir an emotional pot. Where it may sound like I agree with the statements made, I'm more interested in getting others to consider an alternate viewpoint. 

It is my fervent hope that we keep open and active minds when reading opinions and while engaging in peaceful and constructive discussion, in an arena of mutual respect, concerning those opinions put forth. After over twenty years with military intelligence, I have come to believe engaging each other in this manner and in this arena is the way we will learn tolerance and respect for differing beliefs, cultures, and viewpoints.

We all fall from grace, some more often than others; it is part of being human. God's test for us is what we learn from the experience, and what we do afterward.

Pastor Tony spent 22 years with United States Air Force Intelligence as a planner, analyst, briefer, instructor, and senior manager. He spent 17 years, following his service career, working with the premier, world renowned, Institutional Review Board helping to protect the rights of human subjects involved in pharmaceutical research. Ordained 1n 2013 as an "interfaith" minister, he founded the Congregation for Religious Tolerance in response to intolerance shown by Christians toward peaceful Islam. As the weapon for his war on intolerance he chose the pen, and wages his "battle" in the guise of the Congregation's official online blog, The Path, of which he is both author and editor. "The Path" offers a vehicle for commentary and guidance concerning one's own personal, spiritual, path toward peace and the final destination for us all. He currently resides in Pass Christian, Mississippi, where he volunteers as lead Chaplain and Chaplain Program Liaison, at the regional medical center.