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Authentic Spirituality vs. Sham
How do we discern authentic spirituality from a sham, genuine Christianity from ideologies or idolatries? The malaise of misguided spiritual pursuits today includes fundamentalism in various forms and religions, self-serving narcissistic self-improvement approaches, Prosperity Gospel, instant gratification and entertainment-oriented worship forms, and arbitrary and eclectic self-guided spiritual practices divorced from reality, community, and history.
Being a patriotic American is a healthy, normal thing. Yet, that should not be confused with resorting to Christian nationalism, which idealizes and advocates a fusion of Christianity with American civic life. Prof. Paul D. Miller at Georgetown University states that Christian nationalism is a political ideology about American identity. It is a set of policy prescriptions for what the nationalists believe the American government should do. It’s not drawn from the Bible. It draws political theory from secular philosophy and their own version of history as well. Christian nationalism is a cultural framework, a collection of myths, traditions, symbols, narratives, and value systems.
The story of Abraham in Genesis is a powerful example of uncompromising obedience to God, where God alone, not any ego or anything else, prevails. The challenging story of the “binding of Isaac” (Genesis 22), simply referred to as “the Akedah” in Hebrew, is offered to us for our reflection as today’s first reading. At first glance, the Akedah is one of the most troubling and inexplicable stories in the Bible. Yet closer inspection reveals inspiring messages.
It is a story of the ultimate test imposed on Abraham by ordering him to sacrifice his precious son, Isaac. Scripture does not detail Abraham’s inner angst or psychological trauma or even his moral dilemma. When called by God, he simply answers, “Here I am,” and follows the directives to sacrifice his own son.
The Akedah touches upon the very core of Jewish spirituality as it epitomizes the Jew’s determination to serve God no matter how difficult the circumstances, which is the very reason for Israel’s existence, even if it is beyond human reasoning.
In the end, the story questions our overriding motivation for our decision-making process. For Maimonides, a 12th century Jewish sage, it is the fear of God: “The purpose of all texts in the Torah is to teach human beings how they are to act ... from Abraham's action ... we must learn how far we must go in the fear of God" (his Guide for the Perplexed).
Richard Ellis, a Jewish thinker, considers this “a black hole in the collective Jewish soul,” as he presents a challenge to each one of us: When tragedy strikes, as one day it must, will I seek refuge in human logic or will I open myself to God’s infinite blinding light?
The story becomes even more poignant when some Jewish interpretation reports that Isaac was 37 years at the time, thus, he and his father Abraham walked side by side to the mountain Moriah, fully aware of what they were about to go through. Another aspect for further speculation is the aftermath: After this incident, what kind of relationship was there between the father and the son, between Sarah and Abraham?
Artists’ depictions throw new light into the story as well. The mosaic in the 4th century church in Ravenna, Italy, portrays Abraham in his priestly garb, thus viewing this event in terms of ritual sacrifice as a foreshadowing of the sacrifice of Jesus for our salvation. Rembrandt’s sketch underlines the dark night of the soul on the part of Abraham as his eyes are sunken to the point of being all darkened. In Caravaggio’s painting (included here), we encounter a scary psychological pathos and a denuded emotional display.
Kierkegaard reveres Abraham who lived the human paradox to the extreme and yet had faith that it was not fatal, which invites us to confess with Kierkegaard: “No one is so great as Abraham! Who is capable of understanding him?”
The expression “spirituality” is ubiquitous, indicating the hunger and thirst of the soul among people today. Abraham approaches us as someone most respected by Jews, Christians, and Muslims as they all claim him as their spiritual father. During Lent, we delve into the mystery of God’s love as Christ, who is the ultimate testimony of God’s unwavering love for the fallen humanity, sacrificed his own life for us: “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life (John 3:16).”
Like Abraham, can we look beyond emotionalism or rationalism, beyond nationalism or ideology, and beyond greed or selfish pursuits, and unreservedly focus on God’s will?
Fr. Paul D. Lee