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This year is the 1700th year anniversary of the formulation of the Nicene Creed at the Council of Nicaea. The Vatican has announced that this anniversary will be celebrated in May. The World Council of Churches will convene in October to celebrate its significance. As I have progressed in my spiritual journey, I have grown increasingly dissatisfied with the Creed recited by the people at Catholic Mass each Sunday. My reasons are explained below. This dissatisfaction led me to writing an alternative Creed, which to my mind, better reflects my beliefs and the teachings of Jesus the Christ. Why is this important? Beliefs and values influence behaviour. Some are so hard-wired through early conditioning that they are difficult to shake even when the evidence is pointing in another direction. Spiritual maturity requires the challenging of paradigms. After much soul searching and transformation, I now call myself a Christian, who chooses to worship in the Roman Catholic tradition, despite not agreeing with all the teachings of the Catholic Church. I am deeply grateful for my spiritual grounding in that tradition. The starting point for this writing exercise must be the currently sanctioned Creeds, of which there are two. They are called the Nicene Creed and the Apostles Creed. The source of the information below, both the initial “About” commentary and the text of the Creeds, is Brisbane Catholic Education at https://catholicidentity.bne.catholic.edu.au/prayer/SitePages/Nicene-Creed.aspx   About the Nicene Creed A creed is a summary statement of what is believed by the Church and its members. The Nicene Creed could be more accurately titled the ‘Constantinopolitan Creed’, as it was formulated in 325 by the Council of Nicaea and later modified by the Council of Constantinople in 381 to the wording we have today. The Nicene Creed has a different section for each person of the Trinity and the wording has been a source of tension in the church since first formulated. The Nicene Creed was initially developed to stamp out the teaching of Arius, an Alexandrian priest who taught that Jesus was a created being and not present from the beginning as God was. Arius argued that Jesus was human more than he was divine (which meant that he was not equal to God) as Arius wanted to uphold the Jewish teaching of monotheism (one God only). Constantine established the Council of Nicaea to reject the teachings of Arius. After the Council of Nicaea, further arguments arose among bishops about the divinity of Jesus and several different creeds developed.  The words ‘true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father’ were included in 381. In the eleventh century, the Western church added the words, ‘and the Son’ so the text then read, ‘We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son’. According to the Encyclopaedia of Catholicism, ‘This difference in creeds became a major source of tension between the Eastern and Western churches.’ This tension still exists between Christian churches and the Uniting church has removed the words ‘and the Son’ from the Creed. Either the Apostles' Creed or the Nicene Creed is said at Mass on Sundays and Solemnities.    N icene Creed I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible. I believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages. God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father; through him all things were made. For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven, by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried, and rose again on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures.   He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son, who with the Father and the Son, is adored and glorified, who has spoken through the Prophets. I believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. I confess one Baptism for the forgiveness of sins and I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen. About the Apostles' Creed A creed is a summary statement of what is believed by the Church and its members. Research has determined that this creed was not written by the apostles, but it does date back to the first decades of the church. The earliest written form of this prayer as we know it today is found in writings from the eighth century and the structure and content is closely aligned with the Old Roman Creed and three other creeds which all date back to the early centuries of the church. Either the Apostles' Creed or the Nicene Creed is said at Mass on Sundays and Solemnities.    The Apostles' Creed I believe in God,the Father almighty,Creator of heaven and earth,and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,born of the Virgin Mary,suffered under Pontius Pilate,was crucified, died and was buried;he descended into hell;on the third day he rose again from the dead;he ascended into heaven,and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty;from there he will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit,the holy catholic Church,the communion of saints,the forgiveness of sins,the resurrection of the body,and life everlasting. Amen.” My Observations About the Creeds While written and approved by the Council of Nicaea, the Nicene Creed codified oral and written tradition that had developed in Christianity over the previous 300 years.  It had been the subject of study and debate in diverse cultures, both Jewish and Gentile, in major cities like Rome, Antioch, Constantinople, Alexandria and Ephesus. The tradition was also developed in different languages, including Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek and Latin. The Council of Nicaea was convened by the Roman Emperor Constantine, to provide for Christian unity after he had declared in the Edict of Milan in 313 that Christianity would be the religion of the Empire. The Council had both religious and political objectives. I can imagine that this collection of bishops and their drafting task, in the face of the Arian controversy, was not unlike the present-day UN Security Council seeking an agreed resolution on the Hamas-Israel war in Gaza. Fortunately, they were divinely inspired by God (Jesus or Constantine, I’m not sure which!) Brisbane Catholic Education fails to mention that the amendments to the Creed at the Council of Constantinople in 381 were made by a Council with no representation of western bishops or even a legate of the Bishop of Rome, nor that the Roman Church failed to accept the Council as ecumenical for 150 years. Squabbling between the bishops of the four largest cities about who had primacy was in evidence in the fourth century, largely reminiscent of the disciples arguing about who was the most favoured by Jesus. The schism of 1054 between western and eastern Christianity had already begun! Of course, Jesus is the Good Shepherd, and in 2024, we Catholics still proclaim the Nicene Creed beliefs like good sheep, despite their inauspicious birthing. Have we not learned anything about our faith since 381? Have two millennia of religious and scientific scholarship and life experience taught us nothing new? The most important criticism of both the Nicene and Apostle Creeds is that they jump from Jesus’ birth to his death with no mention of what happened in between. Surely the essence of Christianity is what Jesus did and taught in the period of his public ministry. I attempt to correct this oversight below. In the drafting of a Twenty-First Century Creed, I avoid language or images that: Denote power or regal status, like “Almighty”, “Lord” and “seated at the right hand of…” Confer gender on God, except as it applies to the human Jesus Perpetuate the arguments about the trinity which resulted in the addition of the Filoque clause to the Nicene Creed at the Councils of Toledo (589) and Frankfurt (792) and which contributed to Christian schisms. Promote heaven and hell as physical places of reward and punishment. Give credence to original sin and atonement theory, which I have rejected as inconsistent with a loving God (I appreciate this contradicts St Augustine and 1600 years of Church tradition; but it aligns with the alternative orthodoxy of the Franciscans). I wish to acknowledge the many spiritual guides, authors and friends who have contributed to my spiritual discernment. It is also important to humbly acknowledge my unknowing of God, reality and myself. How does one properly reflect with grossly inadequate words the marvellous mystery and paradox that are essential elements of the Christian faith?   A Twenty-First Century Creed I believe in one true God who is known on earth by many names. I reject and deplore false Gods that are culturally accepted in this Western post-modern age. I believe in the Triune nature of God; Creator Father, Rabbi Son and Holy Spirit. I believe in God the Father, creator of an ever-expanding and complexifying universe; that creation is ongoing and I am called to be a co-creator through my participation in life. I believe in Jesus the Christ, Rabbi and role model, who, born of Mary, had both a temporary human nature and a permanent divine nature that forever was and forever will be. I believe in the Holy Spirit who is guiding us with seven gifts of Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Fortitude, Knowledge, Piety and Fear of (offending) the Lord. I believe the goal of life is unity with God, the Trinity; that made in God’s image, I was born into this life stainless of sin and, like Jesus, have a temporary human nature and a permanent divine nature that ever was and ever will be. I believe in meeting God in silent contemplation. I believe that Jesus showed us how to live our lives; that He suffered and died to show us the way of suffering and death and that He rose from the dead to show us eternal life. I believe the Beatitudes:  Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the Earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted by others, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Blessed am I when people insult me, persecute me and falsely say all kinds of evil against me because of my Christianity.  I believe in faith, hope and love; the greatest of these is love. I love God and love my neighbour as myself. I believe in the inherent dignity of all humanity, the inclusion and love of all and the exclusion of none. I believe in a preferential option for the poor. I believe in the people of God as a worldwide church and in unity with diversity. I believe that all creation is equally good, that we are totally inter-connected, and our earthly home must be cared for now and for future generations. I believe in baptism and confirmation as sacraments confirming my commitment to living a Christian life. I believe in keeping Holy the Sabbath day and in the communal celebration of the Eucharist in memory of Jesus and his way, thereby recognising the relational nature of my existence. I believe in everlasting life after death, the resurrection of the subtle body, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins and the infinite mercy of God. I believe the kingdom of God is here and now and among us; I believe I have a baptismal responsibility to work for the propagation of the faith. I trust in the slow work of God in guiding all humanity in a process of becoming the kingdom of God on earth. I believe that theology is dynamic, not static; culturally appropriate; informed by science and reading the signs of the times, embedded in the teachings of Jesus and inspired by the Holy Spirit. I believe the laity of all genders share equally with the clergy in the priesthood of Jesus. I believe in the primacy of individual conscience, informed by scripture, tradition and the Holy Spirit, as the guide for my actions. And I hold these beliefs in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.   John Scoble 11 May 2025 FAQs A Twenty-First Century Creed How does Scoble’s creed address modern issues like gender, justice, and ecological responsibility? Scoble’s creed embraces gender equality (rejecting gendered titles for God beyond Jesus’ humanity), calls for preferential option for the poor, emphasises inclusion of all and exclusion of none, and underscores that creation is “equally good” and “interconnected.” He insists that care for earth is not optional theology but central to Christian identity, urging believers to honour Sabbath, community, and environmental justice now. What role does individual conscience play in Scoble’s creed? According to St Lucia Spirituality , Scoble makes conscience central - he believes each person must engage with scripture, tradition and science, discern what feels true, and follow their conscience. This shift challenges institutional authority and invites believers to own their faith, wrestle with uncertainty, and act from integrity rather than merely repeating inherited beliefs. How might communities respond to this kind of creed - what tensions and possibilities arise? St Lucia Spirituality suggests that creeds like Scoble’s can provoke both tension and hope. Tension because institutional religion often resists change, especially over doctrine and liturgy. Yet possibilities abound: more authentic belonging for those wounded by rigid tradition, deeper faith that is lived rather than performed, greater unity in diversity, and renewed spiritual practices that reflect both mystery and love. Scoble’s creed models a faith that invites questions, allows transformation, and honours both ancient roots and evolving sunlight. Why does A Twenty-First Century Creed call for rewriting faith in today’s language? According to St Lucia Spirituality , John Scoble argues that inherited creeds like the Apostles’ or Nicene were written in a world shaped by empire, patriarchy and fear. Their words once served a purpose but now often land as rigid formulas instead of living faith. He suggests that if creeds are meant to express belief, they must grow with us - reflecting justice, compassion, ecological awareness and mystery. A new creed is less about throwing out tradition and more about finding words that fit a faith awake to the twenty-first century. What parts of traditional creeds no longer resonate, and what vision does Scoble offer instead? St Lucia Spirituality explains that Scoble struggles with images of God as all-powerful judge, doctrines of original sin, and language that excludes through gender or hierarchy. He replaces these with affirmations of divine mystery, the equality of all creation, and a call to love that excludes no one. His creed doesn’t just “update” old words - it re-centres faith on mercy, justice, ecological responsibility and the dignity of every person, moving the focus from control to compassion. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him.

I am on a retreat at Santa Teresa Spirituality Centre, Ormiston, Brisbane. I'm sitting in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel gazing out at the landscape on a cold and windy afternoon.   Out the floor-to-ceiling window of the Chapel. I can see Moreton Bay and the vivid blue water. I can see the land between me and the water; it is a mixture of greens, yellows and browns. I also see the sky; it is overcast and a whitish grey. Here are the major building blocks of life on earth - water, land and the air that we breathe.   I begin to reflect on my life and my faith. As I do so, I observe the very large gum tree that dominates the foreground of the picture before me. Its branches are being blown around by the very strong wind. And then, a metaphor forms in my mind.   The tree represents me. Its strong roots keep it firmly anchored to the ground. Its roots signify  my Christian faith, formed by dedicated parents, nourished by the Brigidine nuns and  Christian Brothers who educated me, and enriched by the worshipping communities I joined.  The trunk, wide and tall, represents the spiritual growth that I have experienced through family, career, volunteering, prayer and personal development.   The wind blows the branches of the tree around wildly. I think of the wind as the external forces that have battered me down through the years - failed friendships, lost loved ones, personal disappointments and plans unfulfilled. Some of the branches are old and dead; they represent parts of my life which have ended or habits from which I have chosen to detach. Some branches are strong and healthy; they represent the parts of my life that continue to strongly nourish me, like my marriage, my children, my siblings, long-standing friendships and my interest in sports and reading. Some branches are young and fresh; they represent new friendships and new projects that I have started in recent years. They are full of promise.   I marvel at the strength and resilience of the tree. It is sustained by the love of our Creator. It is nourished, as am I, by the rainwater and the nutrients of the land. It breathes oxygen into the sky and I welcome it with every breath.   Frequently, I return to that tree in my daily meditation sessions. It is both a consolation and a source of gratitude.   Have you ever had a similar insight? How does nature inform your faith? FAQs: Reflection - Nature and Faith by John Scoble What metaphor does the author use in “Nature and Faith” and what does it represent? John Scoble uses the image of a tree: roots, trunk, branches. The roots represent Christian upbringing, foundational communities, and early formation. The trunk is spiritual growth through life experiences. The branches show what is alive (friendships, projects) and what is old or ending (habits left behind). This metaphor helps readers see how faith grounds, grows, and sometimes sheds what no longer serves. (Source: John Scoble, Reflection – Nature and Faith ; A St Lucia Spirituality perspective) How does nature inform the author’s faith in this reflection? Scoble is on retreat in a chapel overlooking Moreton Bay. He watches land, water, sky, and a gum tree getting battered by wind. Nature becomes mirror and teacher. He sees how external forces reflect internal life: disappointments, losses, joys. He notes how love, rooted tradition, personal growth, gratitude and present relationships nourish faith just as soil, rain, and air nourish trees. Nature becomes a practice, not just a scenery. (Source: John Scoble, Reflection – Nature and Faith ) What role does resilience play in the author’s spiritual reflection? Resilience shows up in the tree image. Some branches are strong, some weak. Even when battered, the tree stands - because of deep roots, consistent nourishment, and open sky. Scoble’s faith, too, endures in hardship (failed friendships, losses) because foundations built by family, worship, and community support sustain him. The reflection invites readers to see that faith isn’t about perfection but endurance with grace. (Source: John Scoble, Reflection – Nature and Faith ; A St Lucia Spirituality perspective) How does the reflection encourage readers to connect nature and their faith personally? Scoble invites readers to notice: what trees, sky, wind, water, seasons teach us about spiritual life. He suggests daily meditation with nature images, gratitude for growth (ours and others), letting go of old habits (dead branches), and cherishing new projects and relationships. Many people say that spending time outside reduces stress and increases mindfulness (ScienceDaily, 2018). Those practices help faith feel lived and real, not abstract. (Source: ScienceDaily, 2018; A St Lucia Spirituality perspective) Why is gratitude central in “Nature and Faith” as a spiritual practice? Gratitude is what binds the metaphor together. Scoble describes marveling at rain, life, breath, landscapes. Gratitude roots faith in awareness. Research shows that gratitude practices improve wellbeing, reduce depression, enhance relationships (Psychology Today, 2019). In this reflection, gratitude becomes a spiritual anchor - a way to notice God’s presence in land, water, air and in daily life. (Source: Psychology Today, 2019; A St Lucia Spirituality perspective) At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him.

This article appeared as a blog on the website of the Center for Chistogenesis. We are facing an unprecedented convergence of crises: global warming, climate change, mass migration, and systemic ecological collapse. Our planetary systems are exhausted and no longer able to sustain human life as we know it. While countless non-profit organizations work tirelessly on sustainability and integral ecology, and Christian communities engage in vital works of social justice—addressing poverty, immigration, war, racism, and human rights—the harsh reality is that these efforts, however noble, are not reversing the trajectory of destruction. In some areas, the problems are actually worsening. This failure points to a deeper truth: the crises we face are not merely environmental or social but fundamentally religious. The way we understand God, ourselves, and our relationship to the natural world shapes every aspect of how we live and act. If our sense of religion or theology is outdated, disconnected from contemporary scientific understanding, or trapped in institutional forms that no longer serve life, then our responses to global crises will be inadequate at best, and potentially harmful at worst. Christianity is still sought by many but understood by few. It has become an outdated organization fit for another world. If Jesus of Nazareth were to appear today, I do not think he would recognize the Catholic Church as founded on his life and mission. He would probably ask, “What the heck is this?” Men in flowing robes stand around an altar with a gold chalice and paten in the center, one of whom gives a homily on something that sounds esoteric and abstract. “Where are the women?” Jesus would ask. The Vatican continues to host expensive conferences on how best to listen to one another in the face of different viewpoints, more conferences on global warming and the environmental crisis, still more conferences on the perils of technology. All meant to be signs that the Church is deeply concerned for the modern world. A lot of talk but no action. There is a bigger question that looms in our midst. How do we know when religion has died? What are the signs of a moribund church? In the Catholic world, the Church continues to operate just as it did in 1200 A.D. The structure is the same, many of the prayers are the same, the same Creed, even the songs are the same: Tantum ergo is still a favorite among Catholics. The Latin Mass has returned here in Washington, D.C., with a nine o’clock Mass on Sunday attended mostly by young men and women who are dressed for a 1950s movie of “Father Knows Best.” Their young children run around playing after Mass, while their parents chat about various things, as “Father” stands by in a long cassock and beretta. The Catholic Church, which has twenty-three rites, is a collection of competing interpretations, each claiming to represent the “authentic” tradition, but none successfully integrating ancient wisdom with contemporary understanding. The traditionalists retreat into a romanticized past, finding comfort in ritual and hierarchy while largely ignoring the ecological and social crises of our time. The progressives embrace social justice and interfaith dialogue but often lack the theological depth to sustain their activism or connect it to a coherent vision of God’s work in the world. Neither approach adequately addresses the fundamental challenge: how to recover the cosmic dimensions of Christian faith in a way that speaks to contemporary experience and understanding. The Latin Mass community seeks transcendence but finds it in nostalgic recreation of a bygone era. The progressive community seeks relevance but sometimes loses touch with the mystery and grandeur that make Christianity more than mere social work. Both miss the opportunity to discover a Christianity that is simultaneously ancient and contemporary, mystical and engaged, transcendent and immanent. As a child, I was taught that the (Roman) Catholic Church is the one true Church and there is no salvation outside the Church. Now that I am older, I must ask: Would Jesus really accept this statement? I sincerely doubt it, because he himself brought Temple worship to a whole new level—the level of the human person. “Destroy this temple,” he said, “and I will rebuild it in three days,” meaning the temple of his body (Mk 14:58). Jesus was the end of cultic worship, not the beginning. The prominent Indian leader, Mahatma Gandhi, said that “Christianity is a great idea but it has yet to be tried.” He further quipped, “I would be a Christian, if it were not for the Christians.” Only someone outside Christianity could read the New Testament without bias then look around the Church and realize, “something is really off here.” A Christianity that promises to protect us from the world cannot help us learn to live responsibly within it. A faith that sees nature as merely the stage for human salvation cannot inspire the ecological conversion our planetary crisis demands. A religion that is primarily therapeutic cannot provide the prophetic voice that challenges the systems of domination and exploitation destroying the earth. Christianity began as the radical personalization of God but wound up being primarily therapeutic. The Catholic Mass has become like a McDonald’s drive-through: pick up the food and leave. It satisfies the masses by keeping them fed and safe, ignorant of Christianity’s potential to destroy powers of domination and rebuild a new world. For many, the Catholic Mass promotes radical dependency on external power: God is in control and will protect us in this chaotic world. The piety of the faithful ranges from prayer groups to excessive kneeling and bowing, from Martin Luther hymns to Gregorian chant. Christianity has become simply whatever we want it to be—a consumer product designed to meet our psychological needs, rather than a religious transformative encounter with ultimate reality. Therapeutic Christianity continues to treat the natural world as a backdrop for human drama rather than as a sacred community, of which humans are called to be conscious participants. It reduces salvation to a personal rescue mission from a fallen world rather than participation in the world’s transformation. Was Christianity aborted by the emperor Constantine? Or is it still waiting to be born, as Gandhi suggested? Teilhard de Chardin saw Christianity in its birthpangs. He spoke of religion as a dimension of biological evolution. Religion is the energetic transcendent depth by which organisms are oriented toward more life. He said that religion is “biologically (we might almost say mechanically) the necessary counterpart to the release of the earth’s spiritual energy… born to animate and control this overflow of spirit.” Paul Tillich’s definition of religion as “ultimate concern”—that which enkindles a passion for life—resonates deeply with Teilhard’s evolutionary vision. Religion, in this understanding, is not primarily about doctrines, rituals, or institutional structures, though these may be important expressions of it. Rather, religion is the fundamental orientation of life toward what matters most, the passionate engagement with existence that gives life meaning and direction. For Teilhard, religion is a natural phenomenon. Traditional Christianity has often positioned itself explicitly against “natural religion,” which it has viewed as humanity’s insufficient attempt to reach God through reason and experience alone. But Teilhard saw this apparent opposition as a tragic misunderstanding that arose from the “supernatural split” that occurred when Christianity was hijacked by Greek philosophical categories and transformed into a supernatural theism, losing touch with its own deepest insight: that the divine is not separate from the natural order but is the very energy and direction of natural evolution itself. The true function of religion, he said, is “to sustain and spur on the progress of life” and “to nurture the human zest for life.” This places religion at the very heart of evolutionary development.  Religion is not a supernatural phenomenon but a phenomenon integral to the whole in evolution—religion is faith in the whole. Religion born out of the furnace of cosmic wholeness means that religion is larger than humanity alone and integral to the future of the earth. It is, as Teilhard suggested, an organic counterpart to the awakening of the earth’s spiritual energies. This suggests that the Earth itself is undergoing a kind of religious development, becoming more conscious of its own nature and destiny. Human religion is not separate from this planetary process but is the way the Earth becomes conscious of its own spiritual dimension. Just as mechanisms in nature account for the emergence of life, so too, elements of religion are essential for the emergence of life. On the lower levels of nature, such elements are part of the network of interconnected life, including elements of trust and cooperation. On higher levels of conscious life, religion takes on specific forms of symbolic thought and ritual. Carl Jung also realized that before there were churches, temples, or formal religious institutions, there was “natural religion”—the spontaneous emergence of the religious instinct from the depths of the human psyche itself. This natural religion is not something we learn from books or inherit from traditions, though it may be expressed through them. It is the soul’s innate capacity to experience the sacred, to seek wholeness, and to recognize its fundamental relatedness to the divine mystery that permeates all existence. Natural religion recognizes that the sacred is not primarily “out there” to be discovered but “in here” to be uncovered. The kingdom of heaven, as Jesus taught, is within. The divine presence that we seek in temples and churches, in scripture and sacrament, is first and always present in the depths of our own psyche, calling us toward wholeness, love, and authentic relationship. Jung’s natural religion is not opposed to traditional religious forms but provides the psychological foundation that makes them meaningful. Without the natural religious instinct, formal religion becomes empty ritual; with it, even the simplest practices can become doorways to transcendence. This understanding transforms our approach to spiritual practice. Prayer becomes not petition to an external deity but communion with the divine presence within. Meditation becomes not escape from the world but deeper engagement with the sacred dimension of ordinary experience. Service to others becomes recognition and response to the divine light that shines through every being. While religious traditions differ in their external forms and historical expressions, they share common roots in the universal religious instinct that emerges from the depths of the human psyche. We will continue to unravel because the mind must be free to engage the infinite. A mind governed by external laws and rules will split off from the whole if it is stifled within. This is why artificial intelligence is so alluring, because it meets the needs of our psychic depth. Our religious desires will continue to be sought in artificial intelligence unless we return religion to its dynamic and evolving nature. Academic theology has failed in this regard and the Vatican is too mired in tradition to engage the creativity of evolution. Teilhard had a vision to bring Christianity and evolution into a coherent worldview for the vitality of all life. This vision is the heart of the Center for Christogenesis. The path forward requires nothing less than a complete reimagining of Christianity—not as a rescue operation from the world but as conscious participation in the world’s transformation. This evolutionary Christianity will recognize that the Christ event is not a supernatural intervention in natural history but the emergence of a new level of consciousness that reveals the divine nature of reality itself. It will understand salvation not as escape from matter but as the divinization of matter, the awakening of the cosmos to its own sacred nature. Such a Christianity will be simultaneously mystical and prophetic, deeply rooted in the contemplative tradition yet boldly engaged with the ecological and social crises of our time. It will offer not therapeutic comfort but transformative challenge, calling us to become conscious participants in the ongoing creation of a more complex, conscious, and compassionate world. FAQs Is Christianity in Crisis or Transition? by Ilia Delio What crisis does Ilia Delio identify in modern Christianity? According to St Lucia Spirituality , Delio argues the crisis arises from Christianity’s inability to respond meaningfully to ecological collapse, mass migration, inequality and climate change. While many Christian groups pursue social justice or sustainability, Delio says these efforts fail to change the deeper story - how we understand God, self, creation. When faith is trapped in outdated institutional forms, it cannot meet today’s global emergencies. How does Delio differentiate between “crisis” and “transition” for Christianity? St Lucia Spirituality explains that Delio sees “crisis” as the breakdown of older forms - dogmas, rituals, hierarchical structures - that no longer serve life. “Transition” is the opening for new forms of faith - faith that is mystical and prophetic, rooted in evolutionary consciousness, engaged in ecology and justice, beyond therapeutic religion. Transition is not collapse but emergence. What role does theology need to play in evolving Christianity, according to the article? Per St Lucia Spirituality , theology must stop being just defense of belief or tradition and become imaginative, dynamic, and engaged with science, culture and creation. Delio suggests that theology should recover a sense of cosmic participation - that faith includes evolutionary awareness, seeing salvation as divinizing matter, and God not above creation but alive within it. This kind of theology can ground hope and action. What are potential dangers if Christianity resists transition and clings to crisis mode? According to St Lucia Spirituality , resisting transition can result in stagnation - faith becomes ritual without vitality, community defensive rather than open, doctrine over compassion. It risks losing younger generations who see hypocrisy or irrelevance, and it allows Christianity to be perceived as oppressive or complicit rather than restorative. In worst cases crisis without transition can lead to collapse of trust. How can individuals or communities respond to this moment of crisis-transition? St Lucia Spirituality suggests practical responses: first, cultivating awareness - reading Delio, Teilhard de Chardin, and voices that bridge science and mysticism. Second, embracing practices that connect inner and outer transformation - meditation, ecological involvement, prophetic justice, worship that includes silence and mystery. Third, building community spaces where faith is asked, questioned and reimagined. Transition happens when people live faith not just repeat it. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth.

This author is one of the leading contemporary anthropologists and theologians. He challenges existing paradigms and seeks to reflect current human knowledge into our spiritual frameworks.   Spirit connecting with spirit His central theme is to define spirituality as Spirit connecting with spirit. He adopts an understanding of God as an energizing and creative Spirit, inviting us into a deeper and wider engagement with the whole creation and not merely with church or religion. He argues that our understanding of God will need to change away from the ruling, patriarchal Father to the energizing Spirit who empowers everything from within. A crisis of values He suggests humanity is undergoing a crisis of values. Humanity needs to outgrow the highly destructive dualistic splitting of the sacred and the secular so that our economics, politics, and social policies can incorporate spiritual values into all our engagements with the web of life. He regards the concept of eco-spirituality as a wide range of discourses. Their common interest is in showing that the current ecological crisis is an essentially spiritual crisis of values. Answers to it should not be merely technological or material but should be sought on a spiritual level, through the foundation of an “inner ecology” and an enlightened reflection about the meaning of life, the Other, the sacred.  O’Murchu acknowledges the 2009 Hindu Declaration on Climate Change which asserts: Humanity’s very survival depends upon our capacity to make a major transition of consciousness, equal in significance to earlier transitions from nomadic to agricultural, agricultural to industrial, and industrial to contemporary technology. We must transit to complementarity in place of competition, convergence in place of conflict, holism in place of hedonism, optimization in place of maximization. He adds that consciousness can be explained as the love of God poured out in energizing empowerment for everything in creation, humans included. The dualistic split between sacred and secular has no place in this divine synthesis. Re-imagining God Another important theme in the book is the need to reframe and reconfigure our understanding of God. He suggests the Christian tradition and understanding of God needs to reflect creation and ecology. Just as several Indigenous Peoples around our world recognise the Great Spirit, we are called to recognise how God, as energizing and creative Spirit, invites us into a deeper and wider engagement with the whole creation. Part of this change in God paradigm importantly includes the desire among a growing number of scripture scholars to move away from imperial language related to kings and kingdoms. Instead they seek to use language that is likely to better represent what Jesus desired in the liberation and empowerment of gospel faith. To that end, O’Murchu uses the Aramaic-related translation companionship of empowerment. Humanity is not the centre of the universe Throughout this book O’Murchu highlights a major challenge to our contemporary anthropology. We need to outgrow our species domination in favor of viewing ourselves as a derived species, one that depends on the life of the larger web for everything that constitutes our being and becoming. Eco-spirituality requires us to outgrow and abandon our superior status and view the earth (and its resources) not as an object but as a lifeform that begets all other lifeforms, humanity included. Rejecting patriarchy and power as the basis of community No analysis of contemporary spirituality would be complete without acknowledging this shift in consciousness away from power from on high and toward empowerment from the center outward. All major religions, not merely Christianity, are wrapped up in power structures that are no longer credible today. He asks: “Can we patriarchal humans, addicted to domination and control, die to our power compulsion so that we can be raised to a more egalitarian, mutually empowering way of being for our own benefit and that of all creation?”  O’Murchu’s views are challenging but deserving of careful reflection. One cannot help but think that, given the state of the world, a total re-set is required for survival of our species. Otherwise, total collapse seems inevitable. FAQs: Ecological Spirituality by Diarmuid O'Murchu What does Diarmuid O’Murchu mean by ecological spirituality? Ecological spirituality is about recognising God’s Spirit alive not just in sacred buildings or private rituals but in the entire web of creation. O’Murchu calls us to move beyond seeing nature as scenery and start seeing it as kin. It’s a spirituality of belonging - one that values rivers, forests, soil, and sky as participants in divine life, not just resources for human use. (Source: A St Lucia Spirituality perspective; O’Murchu, Ecological Spirituality ) How is ecological spirituality different from environmentalism? Environmentalism often focuses on laws, activism, or policy shifts that protect the planet. Ecological spirituality includes those actions but adds a deeper story: the conviction that creation is sacred and infused with divine presence. O’Murchu invites us not just to recycle or protest but to reimagine our identity as earthlings woven into the web of life. It is a change of heart as much as a change of behaviour. (Source: A St Lucia Spirituality perspective) Why is ecological spirituality important in today’s world? Our planet is under pressure. The UN reports that nearly 1 million species face extinction, with ecosystems declining faster than at any point in human history (United Nations, 2019). Ecological spirituality matters because it addresses more than data and policy - it shifts how we value life itself. By rooting environmental care in spiritual awareness, O’Murchu suggests we build a lasting motivation that fuels both personal practice and collective action. (Source: UN Global Biodiversity Outlook; A St Lucia Spirituality perspective) How does O’Murchu reimagine the language of God and faith? Instead of describing God as a distant ruler, O’Murchu reimagines God as Spirit dwelling within creation, constantly energising and empowering life from within. This reframes prayer as gratitude for the air we breathe, ethics as how we treat the earth beneath our feet, and worship as honouring the sacred in both the neighbour and the natural world. (Source: A St Lucia Spirituality perspective; O’Murchu, Ecological Spirituality ) What practices help bring ecological spirituality into daily life? It can start small. Time outdoors without distraction, saying grace that includes gratitude for soil and farmers, reducing waste, planting pollinator-friendly flowers, joining community repair groups, or advocating for fair climate policy. Studies show even short daily nature contact reduces stress and boosts wellbeing by 20–30% (Harvard Medical School, 2019). O’Murchu would add that these practices are not just healthy but holy - a way of aligning your life with the Spirit that animates all creation. (Source: Harvard Medical School; A St Lucia Spirituality perspective) At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him.

“Unless religion changes and adapts to the evolving world, it cannot do what it has the capacity to do: enkindle a zest for life.” (Ilia Delio on Teilhard de Chardin) [1] Introduction - Reimagining God In her 2012 landmark work, The Great Emergence , Phyllis Tickle focuses on the ways Christianity has undergone paradigm shifts every five hundred or so years. Others have noticed similar patterns in other religious traditions. [2] A paradigm is a distinct set of concepts or theories that characterise phenomena or field of study such as science or religion. Paradigms can change in the light of new data. As insights arise that do not fit with the old data, new paradigms emerge over time. The purpose of this paper is to draw attention to potential changes to our concepts and paradigms of God. John D Caputo, an American religious philosopher, is blunt: God deserves better. God has fallen into the wrong hands. Religion has made itself unbelievable, an enemy of common sense, science, and democratic life, and is well on its way to shaming God out of existence. [3] Augustine and Aquinas Augustine (CE354-430) and Aquinas (1224-1274), perhaps, two of the most widely recognised doctors of the church, held divergent views on God. Caputo [4] distinguished two kinds of theologians, the first, bridge-builders , think we must build a bridge from the world to God and hope the world can provide enough support to hold up the bridge. The second , ground-diggers , think we do not have to build a bridge because God is the very ground on which we already stand, but we must do a little digging (thinking) to see that. Quoting the theologian Paul Tillich , Caputo considered Aquinas to be a bridge-builder, whereas Augustine was a ground-digger. The God that is the outcome of Aquinas’s view is a Supreme Being transcending space and time, who sees all, knows all, and can do all. A God, “up there”, who is watching every move we make and is coming to get us if we do not behave ourselves, to whom we turn when things take a turn for the worse. Augustine thought that we are alienated from God because we do not realise that God is that in which we already live and move and have our being. The bridge-builders think we must find some way to attain the truth. The ground-diggers think we are already in the truth, that God is truth, and that the task is to unearth its truth. Augustine said: Do not go out and about looking for God. God is not far. God is right here — God-within-us or we- within God — waiting to be found. Are you a bridge-builder or a ground-digger in your view of God? Do you see God as “up there” separate to yourself, or intrinsic to yourself? Man made in God’s image or God made in man’s image God is not human, but many persist in describing God with human characteristics. Personhood is the deepest expression of our consciousness as human beings. We describe everything in terms of this reality and tend to think of God after the analogy of a person. The same may be true for every other creature. Xenophanes said it in the fifth century BC, “If horses had Gods, they would look like horses.” We project onto God human behaviours and expectations (anthropomorphism). Nations go to war with God on their side to affirm the rightness of their cause. And our expectations of God can be naïve and ill-founded. Bad stuff happens and God is often blamed for it. The eruption of volcanoes, for example, are an essential part of the renewal of the earth and important for our eco-system, and not a godly judgement on humankind’s behaviour. Does anthropomorphism contribute to a co-dependent relationship with God, thereby hindering mature spiritual development? If we are to have a credible religion, do we need a concept of God that goes deeper and is more encompassing than a personalised Supreme Being? The Originating Spirit The concept of God we have from long established theology is founded in a worldview prevalent at the time of Jesus, subsequently refined through later centuries. These views influenced doctrines, such as original sin and the belief that Jesus died to save us from our sins, views that are reflected in our liturgy and prayers. However, our understanding of the universe, science and many other fields of knowledge has expanded significantly over two thousand years. Brian Swimme, an evolutionary cosmologist, was inspired by the works of Thomas Berry, who in turn was a student of Teilhard de Chardin. Consider his reflection on the “cupped hands”: Cup your hands together and imagine what you are holding. First in quantum terms would be the molecules of the air, the molecules of nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide, and other trace gases. There would be many more than a billion trillion. If we imagine removing every one of these atoms, we would be left holding extremely small particles such as neutrinos from the sun. In addition, there would be radiation energy in the form of invisible light, such as photons from the original flaring forth of the universe. In other words, to get down to nothingness we would have to remove not only all the subatomic particles; we would also have to remove every one of these invisible particles of light. But now imagine you have somehow done this, so that in your cupped hands there are no molecules left, and no particles, and no photons of light. All matter and radiation have been removed. No things would be left, no objects, no stuff, no items that could be counted or measured. What would remain would be what we modern peoples refer to as the “vacuum” or “emptiness” or “pure space”. Now for the news: careful examination of this vacuum by quantum physicists reveals the strange appearance of elementary particles in this emptiness. Even where there are no atoms, and no elementary particles, and no protons, and no photons, suddenly elementary particles will emerge. The particles simply foam into existence... The particles emerge from the “vacuum”. They do not sneak in from some hiding place when we are not looking. Nor are they bits of light energy that have transformed into protons. These elementary particles crop up out of the vacuum, itself – this is a simple and awesome discovery. I am asking you to contemplate a universe where, somehow, being itself arises out of a field of “fecund emptiness.” [5] (Italics added). Could this be God at work? Framing a new paradigm To be meaningful, our concepts of God need to be founded in good psychology and science and be reflected in good theology. No one accepts the sun, the planets, and Greek mythological creatures as gods anymore, so it is appropriate to consider imagining a God that is more meaningful to us today. The West has lived with two prominent paradigms for the last several hundred years: the mechanistic worldview and the medieval worldview, and the underlying basis of these worldviews is increasingly being questioned. The mechanistic worldview relies on the certainty of Newtonian physics, yet Einstein’s mathematics pointed to the fact that the laws of relativity better fit reality than did Newton’s laws of absolute space and time. [6] Paul Levy writes: The Scientific Revolution, now commonly associated with Newtonian physics, led to a deepening of human powers of reason and knowledge. However, it assumed a world model that behaved like a giant mechanism, literally a machine composed of separate and externally interacting parts. The modern scientific attitude, seeing the world as objectively existing somehow outside of and separate from itself leads to a deluded view, a blind spot in the very centre of the predominating scientific vision of the world. A pervasive blindness of which modern society seems mostly unaware. A strictly materialistic understanding of human beings and our place in the cosmos is not part of the solution but part of the problem. The materialistic worldview, which is based on the idea that things (including ourselves) are free standing, existing independently on their own and separately from each other, is simply untrue. [7] We are not separate, rather we are relational to everyone, everything, everywhere, “entangled” in the language of quantum physics. We must conceive our place in the world differently. Regarding physics, Ilia Delio writes: Modern physics is, in a sense, a mystical science that stands in opposition to the notion that “science explains everything” or that “science gives us the truth.” Physics is, in fact, a description, not an explanation. The laws of nature are concisely integrated descriptions of our observations and experiments, descriptions that use creative abstract concepts like “charge” or “spin” and the abstract language of mathematics. Physics is an abstract description of nature, although there are no abstractions in nature. What you see is not necessarily what is there. The map is not the territory. [8] Similarly, a finger pointing at the moon is not the moon. Quantum physics leads us to consider the world in a way that is radically different from our past education and life experience. For example, scientific experiments have proven that the mere existence of an observer in an experiment can change the outcome of the experiment. Levy again: According to quantum theory, observers play no minor part, but rather an indispensably creative role in the genesis of the universe while at the same time being a product of the very universe that they are helping to create. [9] Teilhard de Chardin, a Jesuit priest and palaeontologist, developed his ideas from a theological point of view. He was forbidden by his Jesuit superiors and the Catholic Church from publishing his books and he died in New York in 1955 nearly friendless. However, his friends published his works after his death and they are now acknowledged by the Catholic Church. Ilia Delio, a Franciscan, scientist, and theologian has been described by Diarmuid O’Murchu as the foremost authority in the world on Teilhard’s writings and their consequences. She writes: [10] The fact is, we have been on a rapidly accelerating trajectory of evolution since the last century. It is time to get on board with where we are going and stop leaning on history as our sole support. Teilhard de Chardin gave us a new paradigm of cosmic evolution, an entangled whole of God and world in evolution which continues to grow with complexifying consciousness. Humanity is part of a mysterious cosmic unity that has an inner active power persistent through birth and death, an unfolding of greater complex life in which God is emerging. Despite the massive forces of destruction, both natural and human, evolution insists on greater consciousness because something in the cosmos escapes entropy and does so increasingly. Teilhard called this active presence the Omega principle, an energetic presence of love opens to future fulfillment. Consequences Extraordinarily, Teilhard and the scientists who separately developed the ideas surrounding quantum physics during the twentieth century had much in common in their views. We are all observers as described above, and we can influence the development of the world. Ilia Delio again: We live in a world of infinite potential, and we must choose whether we will create a world of love or settle for a world of hate and violence. If love is our deepest reality, then every breath of every day we must choose to love. In our highly charged world of political opposition, fake news and sheer hate, love seems antiquated or irrelevant. But love is the reason we are all here to begin with and it is this truth alone that makes us desperate for God. Each one of us contributes to the completion of God. Love is no longer an option but a responsibility; it is not about personal fulfillment but contributing to the world soul. We may struggle with love, fail in love, or feel loveless but Saint John of the Cross gave us a very simple way forward: where there is no love, put love and you will find love. [11] Caputo uses the language of quantum physics: The Entanglement of God and Me. As opposed to classical theology, we and God are entangled like a pair of particles in quantum physics. God’s call calling and our responding are like two particles spinning in the same field, or, more simply, two sides of the same coin. God’s being is not necessary but needy, in need of our response. This is a scene of mutual entanglement. God is not a plenitude who empties the divine being into the world, who dies into the world..., but an emptiness seeking fulfillment in the world, who comes to life in the world. There (here) God hopes to find life, existence and reality, a place to stretch the divine limbs and relieve the divine loneliness. God’s relationship to the world is not kenotic (death of God) but pleromatic (life of God). [12] Levy quotes the medieval theologian Meister Eckhart: Man cannot live without God, but God cannot live without man either. Without man, God wouldn’t know he existed. and comments: In becoming conscious, we become instruments through which whatever we call “it” – God, the universe, the creator, the universal mind, etc. – becomes aware of itself. Speaking about the divine service that humanity can render, Jung writes in his autobiography it is so “that light may emerge from darkness, that the Creator may become conscious of His creation, and man conscious of himself.” [13] A final word from Ilia Delio: Both Jung and Teilhard attempted to relocate the God question on the level of human experience and growth, understood in terms of modern science. God is the name of the transcendent psyche, the collective unconscious, the depth, and ground of matter. Any idea of a supernatural God is an abstraction and unhelpful, diverting our attention away from our divine depth toward a projected other-worldly realm. Jesus of Nazareth entered into a unitive Christ consciousness and lived from the centre of his own divine reality. Jesus is the model of Christ consciousness, according to Jung, because Jesus was fully human like us. Jung summed up the root reality of incarnation this way: the many gods become one God, the one God becomes human, and the human is to become God. Every human person has the capacity to be divine, holy, and sacred. God is seeking fulfilment in human life, as human life seeks fulfillment in God. Teilhard fully agreed and saw the ongoing event of incarnation as the impulse of evolution. [14] Remember Jesus’s wish for us that we might live abundantly (John 10:10). Is the message of Jesus, as interpreted by Teilhard and Ilia Delio, one of empowerment? That we are empowered, enlivened by the Spirit within and meant to embrace that power, own it and, in fact, become co-creators with God? If so, wouldn’t that lead to changes in our view of “God”, our outlook, our liturgy, our hymns, and prayers? Reflections What are your expectations of religion? Caputo writes: God is a spirit who calls, a spirit that can happen anywhere and haunts everything insistently. As to the big picture, the large course the Spirit traverses, the large circle it always cuts, there is no may be about it; it must be what it must be... God is an insistence whose existence can only be found in matter, space, and time. Where else could God be God?... There is grace, grace happens, but it is the grace of the world. My entire idea is to reclaim religion as an event of this world, to reclaim religion for the world, and the world for religion. [15] If we accept that quantum theory enables us to understand our place in the evolution of the world, could we accept that we can individually contribute to change? Is this our response to God’s call? Consider the doxology prayer: Through him, with him, in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honour is yours almighty Father, forever and ever. Could it be rephrased, perhaps? Through me, with me, in me, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, if it is to be, it is up to me! Fr Thomas Keating, a Trappist monk and one of the founders of the Centering Prayer meditation, wrote: A creative vision releases an enormous amount of energy and can transform society beyond our wildest dreams. The power of the stars is nothing compared to the energy of a person whose will has been freed from the false-self system and who is thus enabled to co-create the cosmos together with God. [16] James Finlay, faculty member of the Centre for Action and Contemplation, introduces his meditations using this verse from Psalm 46, it is an appropriate introduction to discerning our own path: Be still and know that I am God Be still and know that I am Be still and know Be still Be FAQs Reimagining God What does it mean to “reimagine God,” according to Robert van Mourik? St Lucia Spirituality explains that to reimagine God is to question inherited images and metaphors that no longer resonate or hold in a rapidly changing world. It means moving from a God “up there” or distant judge to a concept of God as ground of being, active presence, mystery, evolutionary possibility. Van Mourik draws on thinkers like John D. Caputo, Ilia Delio, Teilhard de Chardin, quantum physics and mysticism to show that faith can be both honest and bold in its imagination. How do science and theology converge in the idea of God as “originating spirit”? In the article Reimagining God , St Lucia Spirituality describes how scientists like Brian Swimme and quantum physicists reveal that even vacuum - emptiness - is fecund, alive, and creative. Theology meets this observation in the notion of God as originating spirit - something that underlies universe, evolution, consciousness. It suggests that God is not an external being but an active field of possibility, entwined with cosmos and emerging life. What are “bridge-builders” and “ground-diggers,” and how do they differ? St Lucia Spirituality presents Caputo’s distinction: bridge-builders are theologians who think we need to build structures to connect world to God, whereas ground-diggers believe the divine is the foundation under our feet - present before, beneath, beyond our doing. Augustine and Aquinas are contrasted: Aquinas as a bridge-builder, Augustine as a ground-digger. Reimagining God invites us to see which posture we tend toward, and how combining both can offer a richer spirituality. How does reimagining God affect how we pray, worship, or relate to liturgy? According to St Lucia Spirituality , when we shift from old paradigms of God as judge or overseer to God as inviting presence, our spiritual practices shift too. Prayer stops being demands placed on God and becomes conversation with ground of being. Liturgy may become less about repeating fixed formulas and more about creative rituals that reflect our evolving understanding. Our hymns, images, even sacred spaces may change to emphasise immanence, connection, participation. How can readers begin to engage this reimagined concept of God in their own spiritual journeys? St Lucia Spirituality suggests practical steps: start by noticing your current image of God - is it distant, punitive, anthropomorphic, or textured, mysterious, alive? Read works by quantum theologians or mystical writers like Ilia Delio, Teilhard de Chardin and Caputo. Practice contemplative silence, paying attention to how nature, art, science reveal mystery. Seek community dialogues where faithful questions are safe. Over time one’s image of God expands from box-thinking into vibrant possibility. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - Robert van Mourik Robert, a co-founder and guiding presence within St Lucia Spirituality, brings a wealth of insight and dedication to our community. While his roots lie in the Catholic tradition, Robert's spiritual journey has been one of profound inquiry and introspection, spanning many decades in search of what he terms "a coherent worldview." Drawing inspiration from luminaries such as Anthony de Mello, Richard Rohr, Diarmuid O’Murchu, and Ilia Delio, Robert's quest for spiritual truth has been shaped by the wisdom gleaned from countless authors and mentors. Their insights have served as guiding beacons, illuminating the path towards deeper understanding and connection. It was in the shared bond of seeking spiritual growth that Robert first crossed paths with John, their encounters over coffee in 2012 marking the genesis of a transformative journey. These intimate gatherings, fuelled by conversations on influential books and the evolving landscape of their perspectives, soon blossomed into vibrant small groups and virtual meetings on platforms like Zoom. Through newsletters, discussion papers, and a shared commitment to fostering meaningful dialogue, Robert has played an instrumental role in nurturing the thriving community of seekers within St Lucia Spirituality. His dedication to facilitating growth, exploration, and connection reflects the essence of the community's ethos - a journey of discovery and transformation, embarked upon together. Appendex 1 Ilia Delio, The Not-Yet God, 41 2 ibid, ix 3 John D Caputo, What to Believe? Twelve Brief Lessons in Radical Theology, 13, Kindle edition 4 Ibid 16-17 6 Ilia Delio, The Not-Yet God, 2 7 Paul Levy, The Quantum Revelation, 29-30 8 Ilia Delio The Not-Yet God, 2 9 Paul Levy, The Quantum Revelation, 51 10 See Towards the Metahuman, Ilia Delio, Center for Christogenesis, Dec 31, 2023 11 See footnote 912 John D Caputo, What to Believe? Twelve Brief Lessons in Radical Theology 144-145 13 Paul Levy, The Quantum Revelation, 76 14 Ilia Delio, The Not-Yet God, xxxii 15 Quoted in Diarmuid O’Murchu, Doing Theology in an Evolutionary Way, 199 16 Thomas Keating, The Mystery of Christ

Learning how to deal with complexity and incongruity. It is generally accepted that life on earth is becoming more complex every day. Despite human knowledge expanding through scientific discovery and technological developments, there seems to be a malaise in Western societies that is evidenced by such things as dissatisfaction with governments, declining mental health and reductions in religious affiliation. Many people I speak with deplore the current state of the world and express negative emotions such as anxiety and despair.   I would posit that a contributing factor to this malaise is a disenchantment with organised religion. There seems to be growing number of people referring to themselves as spiritual rather than religious. In my own Catholic tradition, the continuing process known as the “Synod on Synodality”, has met with criticisms on issues such as dominance of the clergy, the role of women and acceptance of the LGBT community. It has taken place against the backdrop of the clergy sexual abuse crisis. How does one deal thoughtfully with such complexity and incongruity?   In my own reflections, I have found comfort in the expression “don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater”. This proverb is a very helpful lens for thinking about the spiritual journey. It suggests that I should not discard what is life-giving and essential just because some parts are messy, outdated, or harmful. It reminds me to distinguish between what is core and vital and what is secondary or distorted.   It may be helpful to illustrate this with a story about the Hidden Spring. There was once a village built around an ancient well. For generations, the people drew their drinking water from it. Over time, the stone walls of the well grew cracked, moss covered the edges, and sometimes the water seemed muddy.   Frustrated, some villagers said, “This well is ruined. Let us abandon it and seek water elsewhere.” They left, wandering thirsty and restless. Others insisted, “We must keep it exactly as it is. The cracks and moss are sacred, and even the muddy water must not be touched.” They clung to the outer form, though many became ill from the unclean water.   But a few villagers remembered the wisdom of their elders: “The true spring is deeper down. The surface may be dirty, but if you draw carefully and dig a little deeper, the water is still pure.” These seekers cleared away the moss, repaired the stones, and lowered their buckets beyond the muddy layer. And there they found it—the fresh, cold stream flowing from the hidden spring beneath. They drank deeply and shared it freely with others.   How is this story helpful for the spiritual journey? The hidden spring represents the living presence and love of God, always pure and always flowing. The ancient well represents the spiritual tradition that carries faith across generations. The muddy water and moss represent the distortions, failures and excesses that inevitably flow from the human frailty of religious institutions. The task of the spiritual seeker is not to abandon the well, nor to idolise its brokenness, but to dig down to the spring.   In my own spiritual journey, I have struggled with Catholic Church teachings on many topics, as well as the abhorrent behaviour evidenced by the sexual abuse crisis. Nevertheless, I am comforted by the proverb “don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater”. I remain deeply committed to Jesus the Christ and his teachings and draw deeply from the hidden spring of his love. I am also reconciled to practice my faith in the Catholic tradition, despite my differences with some elements of dogma. I focus on the Hidden Spring. FAQs - Searching for the Hidden Spring Book Review What is the “hidden spring” in Richard Foster’s work and how does John Scoble explain it? The hidden spring is Foster’s metaphor for the quiet source of humility and grace within every person. In his review, John Scoble shows how Foster grounds this idea in everyday practices like listening, gratitude, and slowing down. It’s not about dramatic revelations but about small, faithful steps that connect us back to the well of spiritual life. Source: John Scoble, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective Why does humility matter so much in spiritual growth? Foster argues humility is the doorway to deeper faith rather than a weakness to outgrow. Scoble highlights that it’s humility which allows us to drink from the hidden spring, sustaining us through ordinary routines. Studies in psychology also link humility with stronger relationships and greater wellbeing, showing it has both spiritual and practical benefits. Source: John Scoble, APA, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective How does the book connect to the challenges of modern life? Scoble points out the relevance of Foster’s work in a culture that rewards self-promotion and constant visibility. The call to embrace humility and hiddenness offers a counterweight to the pressures of productivity and online performance. With 62% of people saying social media affects their self-esteem (Pew Research), the reminder to seek inner springs rather than external applause could not be more timely. Source: John Scoble, Pew Research, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective What practices can help readers find their own hidden spring? Foster suggests practical disciplines such as silence, attentive listening, and gratitude journaling. Scoble affirms these as simple but powerful ways to reorient daily life. Research supports their effectiveness: reflective habits like journaling reduce stress and improve mental resilience. The invitation is to look for the sacred not in grand gestures but in the ordinary patterns that shape each day. Source: John Scoble, Harvard Health, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective What impact does John Scoble believe the book will have on readers? Scoble frames Learning Humility as both gentle and challenging. It nudges readers to let go of the myth of self-sufficiency and to rediscover humility as a grace that strengthens faith. The effect is a more grounded spirituality - anchored in community, rooted in dignity, and less focused on performance. For seekers, it can be a refreshing guide to living with depth and authenticity. Source: John Scoble, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him.

A fundamental question for all spiritual seekers is “what or who is God?”   Diarmuid O’Murchu, an Irish Catholic priest and social psychologist, theologian and anthropologist, suggests that Christianity needs to rework the tradition. He argues that Christianity did not begin 2000 years ago but rather 7,000,000 years ago. More controversially, he suggests that the Spirit preceded God the Father in the Trinity. In making these arguments, he relies on the explosion of human knowledge through the sciences - physics, biology, psychology, anthropology and environment.   Quantum physics is a critical component here. Science has shown that all matter consists of vibrating particles of energy. One cannot summarise quantum physics in one sentence. Readers should do their own research on this.   Some guidance is provided by the Bhagavad Gita, perhaps the most respected Hindu scripture and a part of the Upanishads. The Gita was written in about 300BCE, no doubt capturing in writing the oral tradition passed down over some centuries in India and the subcontinent. It describes a conversation between Arjuna, a warrior Prince, and Krishna, a God avatar.   Krishna counsels Arjuna on the essence of divinity: “Listen closely and I will explain the essence of Divinity. First, know that I have two aspects, a lower and a higher. My lower self is the realm of nature (prakriti). According to the ancient system of knowing, this is comprised of eight basic components: earth, water, fire, air, ether (space), mind, intellect (higher mind, buddhi), and ego. Note that these basic components are arranged in ascending order from gross matter (physical and chemical elements) to the more subtle and refined: mind, intellect, and ego (which is the basic sense of being a physical self). And note that all eight of these components, even the very subtle ones, belong to prakriti, the cosmos, the world of nature.   “Beyond this world of nature I have a second, higher aspect that is distinct from all of nature and yet interacts with it. This is My spiritual realm (Purusha). Purusha is the life force, the source of consciousness in all beings, and the animator of all life. This mysterious power supports and sustains the entire universe.   “The commingling of these two realms, nature (which is inert matter) and spirit (which is life consciousness), is the womb of all beings. Life itself originates in this union of nature and spirit. The entire universe evolves from these two aspects of Me, and will finally dissolve into Me.   “I am Pure Consciousness, Arjuna, the underlying essence of all elements and beings. Nothing whatsoever exists separate from My Divinity. There is no power in the cosmos that does not emanate from Me and belong to Me. The entire universe is suspended from Me as if I were the string in a necklace of jewels. The gems may differ vastly, but the force holding them all together, the central thread, is Me, Divinity.   “I am the innate nature of everything. In pure water I am the sweet taste. In the sun and moon I am the radiance. In the very centre of human beings, I live as virility and courage. I am the sacred word Om, which designates the Divine, and I am the sound of it heard throughout the universe.   “I am the slight, delicate scent, the sweet fragrance of the earth. I am the brilliance in both fire and sun. I am the light of Divinity in all beings. I am the subtle spirit in spiritual practices that gives them their existence — I am the love in the devotee, for example, or the austerity in the ascetic, or the sweet sense of charity in the giver.   “I am the primordial seed of all entities, the power of discrimination (buddhi) in those who are intelligent, the splendour within all resplendent beings and things.   “Of the strong, I am their might and vigour. As I am beyond all attachments, I am the power in unselfish desire. I am the subtle force in good actions that puts them in harmony with the welfare of humanity. I am the innate urge to help others.” [1]   Compare and contrast this explanation of Divinity with the song composed by St Francis of Assisi in about 1224CE:   The Canticle of the Sun Most High, all powerful, good Lord,Yours are the praises, the glory, the honour, and all blessing. To You alone, Most High, do they belong, and no man is worthy to mention Your name. Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially Sir Brother Sun, who brings the day; and you give light through him. And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendour! Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness. Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars, in heaven you formed them clear and precious and beautiful. Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Wind,and through the air, cloudy and serene,and every kind of weather through which you give sustenance to Your creatures. Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water, which is very useful and humble and precious and chaste. Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire,through whom you light the night and he is beautifuland playful and robust and strong. Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Mother Earth,who sustains us and governs us and who producesvaried fruits with coloured flowers and herbs. Praised be You, my Lord, through those who give pardon for Your love, and bear infirmity and tribulation. Blessed are those who endure in peacefor by You, Most High, they shall be crowned. Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death,from whom no living man can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin. Blessed are those who will find Your most holy will,for the second death shall do them no harm. Praise and bless my Lord, and give Him thanks and serve Him with great humility.”   If one ignores the power-laden language (“Lord”, “Most High”) that is typical of post-Constantine Christianity, there are significant parallels between the Gita and the Canticle. There is reasonable evidence to suggest from science and the writing of enlightened persons and mystics of all religious traditions down through the ages that God is not a being, but rather a mystical source of energy and love; and that all of nature, from the beginning of time, is driven by energy and love.   Teilhard de Chardin wrote extensively on concepts like “Life itself originates in this union of nature and spirit” and the movement of evolution towards an Omega point. He was banished by the Catholic Church to China for his efforts but has since been rehabilitated and praised for his extraordinary insight.   In “Ecological Spirituality” by O’Murchu, Sr Joan Chittister is quoted as follows: “we know now from quantum physics that matter is simply fields of force made sense by the spirit of Energy”[2]   So, is O’Murchu correct in asserting that the Christian tradition should be reworked? Is God indeed Spirit Energy?   As we reflect on this question, we should remember the warning of St Augustine: “if you comprehend it, it is not God”. FAQs Is God “Spirit Energy”? What do Christian theologians mean when they say “God is spirit,” and does that equal being energy? Many Christian traditions teach that God is non-material, invisible, not bound by space or time (that is what “spirit” in scripture implies). Saying God is spirit does not automatically mean God is “energy” in the scientific sense. Theologians in Eastern Orthodox Christianity make a key distinction between God’s essence (what He is in Himself) and His energies (what God does, how He reveals Himself) (Essence–Energies Distinction) (Wikipedia). According to that view the energies of God are how humans experience His presence, power, and love - but His essence remains beyond what we can fully grasp. What are some arguments for believing God might be “spirit energy”? One argument comes from the idea that spiritual energy fits our modern language and metaphors: energy, vibration, frequency, force are familiar to many people today, so calling God “energy” feels more accessible (Integral Christian Network) Integral Christian Network . Another comes from Christian mystical traditions and newer writings that emphasise that God’s Spirit is active, powerful, life-giving, transforming - almost like a force or source of vitality. Also Christian scholarship (for example on “spiritual energy” in Christianity) describes spiritual energy as the divine influence that regenerates, transforms, sanctifies believers (WisdomLib). What are the theological objections to saying God is spirit energy? A common objection is that energy is a created reality (in science) whereas God is uncreated; equating God with energy risks making God part of creation instead of the Creator. For example, the theology blog “Dear Theophilus” argues that the idea of God as energy does not align with biblical descriptions of God’s transcendence and uniqueness (GCU blog) Grand Canyon University . Also, Christian doctrine generally holds God’s essence to be beyond being fully known, and that God is distinct from everything created -using “energy” metaphorically can be helpful, but it often falls short of capturing who God is in Christian theology. How do ordinary spiritual experiences support or challenge the idea of God as energy? Many believers report experiences where God feels like a presence, power, warmth, or force moving in or through them. These subjective experiences can support the language of energy because they feel dynamic, alive, moving. On the other hand theological tradition would caution that feelings are not always reliable indicators of metaphysical truth; experiences may point toward God’s energies or presence, but are not the same as doctrine about who God is. Empirical research (Pew Research, 2023) shows that roughly one third of U.S. adults believe in a “higher power or spiritual force in the universe” rather than a God as traditionally described in the Bible. What practical spiritual implications follow if I believe God is spirit energy? If one holds to God being spirit energy (or uses that metaphor), it can shift how one prays, worships, perceives spiritual growth, and lives daily. For example one might focus more on feeling God’s movement, seeing God in nature, in art, in relationships, or in moments of awe. One may also lean into contemplative practices, silence, meditation, mindfulness, or creative expression as ways to tune into that energy. But it also means keeping theological guardrails: recognizing that metaphor helps, but should not replace biblical revelation, doctrine, and belief in God’s personal nature. Belief in spirit energy can deepen a sense of wonder, presence, awe - but for many Christian traditions, God remains personal, relational, not just “power” or “force.” At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth.   About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him. Footnotes 1.      Jack Hawley, “The Bhagavad Gita - a Walkthrough for Westerners”, Chapter 7 paras 4-11. 2.      Diarmuid O’Murchu “Ecological Spirituality”, Kindle p.43.

The field of psychology has advanced significantly in recent decades. Intelligence used to be measured simply by IQ. In 1983, Howard Gardner proposed that there were nine distinct intelligence capacities, namely:   Linguistic – skill with words and language Logical–mathematical – skill with reasoning and numbers Musical – skill in rhythm, melody, and sound Bodily–kinesthetic – skill in movement and coordination Spatial – skill in visualising and manipulating space Interpersonal – skill in understanding and relating to others Intrapersonal – skill in self-awareness and reflection Naturalistic – skill in recognising and categorising nature Existential - concerning meaning and purpose.   Then, Daniel Goleman popularised the concept of emotional intelligence or EQ in 1995.   It seems to me that humans use three organs to tap into basic intelligence capacities: · The mind or brain, which provides thinking, knowledge and perception ·  The heart, which provides emotion, compassion and love ·  The gut, which provides visceral or bodily reactions to events or experiences. We need to use all three in appropriate proportion to live a balanced, happy and fulfilling life. During the 1970s, there was a popular stage play called “Godspell”. It told the story of the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth in script and song. One of the songs has stuck with me throughout my life. Called “Day by Day”, its chorus has these words: Day by day, Oh, dear Lord three things I pray: To see thee more clearly To love the more dearly To follow the more nearly Day by day How is this prayer lived out? “Seeing more clearly” requires a continuous improvement in understanding who Jesus is and what he taught. This is achieved through reading and interpreting Scripture, meditation and reflection on personal experiences. This is part of the waking up and growing up stages of Ken Wilber’s integral theory model. “Loving more dearly” requires loving God and all the things that God loves. This includes yourself, neighbours, enemies, animals, plants, the environment, the air, the water et cetera. It also requires a transition to the second half of life, as popularised by Thomas Merton and Richard Rohr. “Following more nearly” requires taking action consistent with the teachings of Jesus. This includes detaching from unhelpful behaviours and reinforcing positive behaviours. These are part of the cleaning up and showing up stages of Wilber’s model. It can reasonably be anticipated that the results of these three endeavours are personal peace and harmony, a more mature worldview and an outwardly focused spiritual consciousness. Praying the prayer daily provides a useful reminder to fully employ the three intelligence organs in your regular routine. FAQs - Applying Intelligence to Spiritual Growth What is spiritual intelligence and why is it crucial for spiritual growth? Spiritual intelligence (SI) means using qualities like meaning-making, compassion, awareness, and purpose to guide everyday life (not just what you believe, but how you live). Recent scoping reviews show that in 67 studies most people see SI helping with wellbeing, mental health, and community belonging. (Source: PMC scoping review) PMC Source & Insights: John Scoble & St Lucia Spirituality perspective. How is spiritual intelligence different from IQ or EQ, and how do they complement one another? IQ deals with reasoning, EQ with emotions, SI deals with values, meaning, purpose. Studies show that while IQ and EQ predict performance or social skills, SI adds something extra - deeper purpose, resilience, moral clarity. For example one systematic review found that students with higher SI tend to report better emotional health and academic goal alignment (Source: study on emotional intelligence & spiritual intelligence correlation) BioMed Central Source & Insights: John Scoble & St Lucia Spirituality perspective. What practices help cultivate spiritual intelligence in one’s daily spiritual growth? Some of the well-supported practices are reflective prayer, meditation, journaling about one’s purpose, serving others, noticing values in ordinary moments. The research shows that people who engage regularly in contemplative practices or meaning-making rituals report higher scores on measures of SI ) ScienceDirect Source & Insights: John Scoble & St Lucia Spirituality perspective. What are the measurable benefits of applying spiritual intelligence to one’s spiritual journey? Empirical studies link higher spiritual intelligence with lower depression, greater life satisfaction, stronger sense of meaning, better relational health. For instance a 2024 meta-analysis found a positive correlation (r ≈ 0.36) between spiritual intelligence and student achievement, meaning SI helps not only inner life but external outcomes too. (Source: BMC study linking SI, EQ, achievement) BioMed Central Source & Insights: John Scoble & St Lucia Spirituality perspective. What are common pitfalls when trying to use intelligence for spiritual growth, and how can they be avoided? One pitfall is treating spiritual intelligence like just another goal to hit, which can lead to performance anxiety, spiritual burnout, comparison. Another is neglecting community or relationships in favour of solo practice. Research warns that SI scores measured purely by self-report can give inflated sense of progress without relational or embodied change. (Source: critiques in spiritual intelligence research about measurement and context) MDPI Source & Insights: John Scoble & St Lucia Spirituality perspective. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him.

A meditation from the CAC: Author Mungi Ngomane explores the lessons of ubuntu she learned from her grandfather, Bishop Desmond Tutu (1931–2021):  If we are able to see ourselves in other people, our experience in the world will inevitably be a richer, kinder, more connected one. If we look at others and see ourselves reflected back, we inevitably treat people better.   This is ubuntu.    Ubuntu shouldn’t be confused with kindness, however. Kindness is something we might try to show more of, but ubuntu goes much deeper. It recognizes the inner worth of every human being—starting with yourself….    Ubuntu tells us we are only  who we are thanks to other people. Of course we have our parents to credit for bringing us into the world, but beyond this there are hundreds—if not thousands—of relationships, big and small, along the way, which teach us something about life and how to live it well. Our parents or guardians teach us how to walk and talk. Our teachers at school teach us how to read and write. A mentor might help us find fulfilling work. A lover might teach us emotional lessons, both good and bad—we learn from all experiences. Every interaction will have brought us to where we are today.  [1]   Theologian Dr. Michael Battle reflects on the spirituality of ubuntu: [Ubuntu] is a difficult worldview for many Westerners who tend to understand self as over and against others—or as in competition with others. In a Western worldview, interdependence  may easily be confused with codependence , a pathological condition in which people share a dependence on something that is not life-giving, such as alcohol or drugs. Ubuntu, however, is about symbiotic and cooperative relationships—neither the parasitic and destructive relationships of codependence nor the draining and alienating relationships of competition.   Perhaps Desmond Tutu … put it best when he said:   A person with  ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished. [2] …  Our planet cannot survive if we define our identity only through competition. If I know myself as strong only because someone else is weak, if I know myself as a black person only because someone else is white, then my identity depends on a perpetual competition that only leaves losers. If I know myself as a man only by dominating women, if I know myself as a Christian only because someone else is going to hell, then both my masculinity and my Christianity are devoid of content.   Rather than reinforcing competitive ways of knowing self, Ubuntu offers a way of discovering self-identity through interdependence. As such, it is possible to argue that my very salvation is dependent on yours—radical stuff for Western ears to hear, yet vital to the survival of the earth. [3]    FAQs - We Cannot Be Self-Made What does “ubuntu” mean and how is it connected to being “not self-made”? Ubuntu is a Southern African concept often translated as “I am because we are” or “humanity towards others.” It emphasizes that we are shaped by our relationships and community (mentors, family, teachers). In the article, Ubuntu is used to remind us that our identity and growth isn’t solo but deeply relational. (Source: St Lucia Spirituality) St Lucia angle: When we say “we cannot be self-made,” we’re pointing out that every kindness, teaching, failure, success is built on people who came before and walk beside us. Why is acknowledging dependence on others spiritually important? Recognising dependence fosters humility, empathy, and healthier communities. Studies in psychology show that people who attribute their successes partly to teachers, mentors, or family tend to have higher wellbeing and more generous behaviour. (Source: general psychological research) In We Cannot Be Self-Made , the meditation suggests our lives are enriched when we see ourselves in others. (Source: St Lucia Spirituality) St Lucia angle: From our spiritual view, dependence isn’t weakness - it’s part of the fabric of grace. We grow because others held the rope for us. How do relationships shape character according to “We Cannot Be Self-Made”? The article says every major human milestone comes through relationships—parents teach how to talk and walk; teachers, mentors, community shape purpose. (Source: St Lucia Spirituality) There’s psychological evidence that relational contexts (family, mentors etc.) deeply influence moral development, values, even resilience. (Source: developmental psychology) St Lucia angle: Our character isn’t forged in isolation. It’s interplay: what others bring, what we respond to, what gets reflected back at us. That’s where spiritual formation happens. Does believing we are “self-made” harm spiritual growth? Yes - it can lead to pride, isolation, and burnout. When we believe everything depends solely on our effort, we may ignore gratitude, neglect community, or fail to receive help. In contrast, embracing interdependence tends to enhance spiritual health (more openness, forgiveness, connection). (Sources: spiritual formation literature + social-psychology research) We Cannot Be Self-Made urges us to resist the myth of complete autonomy. (Source: St Lucia Spirituality) St Lucia angle: The myth of the “self-made” messes with our souls - it says “you don’t need others,” but spiritually speaking we always do. How can one live out the idea that we are not self-made in daily spiritual practice? Practices like gratitude, mentorship, community service, storytelling of one’s lineage or influences, confessing need, engaging with others’ stories help. (Sources: spiritual disciplines tradition + community-psychology studies) The article encourages seeing ourselves in others - listening, recognizing, valuing those small and big relationships. (Source: St Lucia Spirituality) St Lucia angle: Everyday life becomes more sacred when you say “thank you” to someone who pushed you up, when you let someone else help, when you lean into vulnerability instead of pretending you did it all. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. References:   [1] Mungi Ngomane, Everyday Ubuntu: Living Better Together, the African Way  (New York: Harper Design, 2020), 19, 21.    [2] Desmond Mpilo Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness  (New York: Doubleday, 1999), 31.   [3] Michael Battle, Ubuntu: I in You and You in Me  (New York: Seabury Books, 2009), 2, 6–7.  Source: https://cac.org/daily-meditations/we-cannot-be-self-made/

Our understanding of priests, bishops, and deacons has changed dramatically in the church’s long history. After Jesus’ death and resurrection, the disciples of Jesus (c. 4 BCE – 30 or 33 CE) understood their role as one of ministry and service to others. Sent out to spread the Good News of the Way of Jesus, they were called “apostles” from the Greek word apóstolos , meaning "one who is sent out.” In the earliest Christian communities men and women were apostles. There was a variety of ministries; but ordained priesthood was not one of them. Contrary to what one occasionally hears, the historical Jesus did not ordain anyone at the Last Supper. In the medieval period, many thought he did. But ordination did not exist in his lifetime. The letters of Paul, written between 48 and 62 CE, mention a variety of charismatic gifts which can be thought of as ministries benefiting the local Christian community, even though the ministers were not ordained in our sense of the word. For example, members, who could teach, taught. Those who were good organizers administered community affairs. Those who had the gift of prophesy could speak out and tell the community what they needed to hear, as faithful followers in the way of Jesus. We know as well that men and women who were heads of households presided at the Lord’s Supper (Eucharist); and hosted the gatherings in their homes. In Romans 16, Paul greets women leaders such as the deacon Phoebe, the apostle Junia, and the married apostles Priscilla and her husband Aquila. Clear evidence that women were respected leaders in the emerging Jesus movement. As Christian communities developed, ministries and the ways of training and appointing ministers evolved to meet changing cultural conditions and changing social needs. Presbyters, from the Greek presbyteroi , were community elders. Supervisor overseers (later called bishops) from the Greek epískopoi  had oversight and offered guidance in community affairs, and deacons, from the Greek diaconoi , were helpers, entrusted with assisting people in the community by caring for widows, doing charitable work, catechizing, and assisting in baptisms. The approval and blessing of the community for diverse ministries was indicated by the laying on of hands. These ministries included preaching, prophesy, healing, working miracles, speaking in tongues, and interpreting what was said in tongues (see 1 Corinthians 12:12-30, Ephesians 4:11-12, Romans 12:4-8; and 1 Corinthians 12:4-11). None of the men and women exercising these ministries were ordained. Acts of the Apostles, written between c. 90 and 110 CE, mentions the laying on of hands for elders or presbyters, but here it was a form of blessing for those in ministry. In the Hebrew tradition, the laying on of hands was practiced when a father would impart a blessing to his children (see Genesis 48:14-15). We also see Jesus do this: He lays hands on children and blesses them. In the first three centuries of Christianity, therefore, we have no direct evidence of what would later be called an ordination ceremony. By the end of the third century, however, Christianity had a clear organizational structure headed by presbyters, supervisor-overseers (bishops), and deacons. Initiation into these orders was accomplished through a rite of ordination that inducted a person into a local office in a particular community. It is important to clarify that ordination at this time was NOT about passing on some kind of sacramental power. As my former professor the “Dutch theologian” Edward Schillebeeckx once said about liturgical leadership in the past: “You led the liturgy because you were the leader of the people. You didn’t lead the liturgy because you were ordained to have the power of consecration.” Ordination was a blessing on the minister and an assurance to the community that the ordained man or woman was competent, a genuine believer, and trustworthy. There is ample evidence that in the West women were ordained as deacons and abbesses well into the Middle Ages. Women continued to be ordained deacons in the East and were ordained to a variety of ministries. Many contemporary scholars agree with Gary Macy, professor of religious studies at the University of San Diego, who argues that, during the first twelve hundred years of Christianity, women were also ordained as presbyters and bishops. I find the arguments in Macy’s book The Hidden History of Women's Ordination well-documented and convincing. It is very important to note, however, that in the 12th century ordination changed from its earlier understanding as a blessing for different ministries in service for a specific community to a bestowal of sacramental power “to confect” (make it happen) the sacrament of the Lord’s body and blood. The ordained now belonged as well to a higher social class. The classless and egalitarian church of early Christianity had disappeared. History is important. The Council of Trent, held in three separate sittings between 1545 and 1563 in Trento in northern Italy, issued several doctrinal pronouncements about ordination, reacting of course to the Protestant Reformation. The Tridentine bishops declared as required Catholic belief that ordination was a sacrament personally instituted by the historic Jesus. The Council of Trent stressed that the sacramental power of ordination was passed on through the tactile laying on of hands, understood as “apostolic succession” going back to Jesus’ “ordination of the apostles as the very first bishops” at the Last Supper. Today we would say that apostolic succession is not about a tactile laying on of hands but about passing on faith, witness, and ministerial leadership from generation to generation. The Council of Trent stressed as well that ordination brought about an ontological change in the ordained person – a change in the very nature of the person -- which elevated the ordained to a level above the laity, leaving an indelible mark on the person forever. The Tridentine bishops emphasized that bishops have the fullest and highest degree of “sacramental power.” They forgot or were ignorant about the fact that the historical Jesus did not exercise power over people but empowered them to care for others. Thinking about Trent, one should not forget of course the influence that medieval feudalism still had on the church at that time. There were three estates: the nobility, the clergy, and the peasantry. Bishops, in strongly patriarchal feudalism, held positions of power as feudal lords and as advisers to kings and nobles. Bishops generally lived with the same hierarchical powers, ornate dress, and luxuries as the nobles. Ordination is a ceremony that celebrates the beginning of a professional life of ministry. It could be much more flexible than it is today and open of course to men and women, married and unmarried, and of whatever sexual orientation. It could be for a specific number of years or lifelong. What is celebrated in an ordination ceremony is not getting power over other people or one’s being elevated above the non-ordained. It is about making a commitment and responding to a call to preach the Gospel and care for others. It is about being of service to others, as genuine and credible ministers: helping others grow in and with the Spirit of Christ. Thinking about ordination and pastoral ministry today, I would like to see some creative changes. I would like to see ministerial appointments – ordinations -- extended to religious educators, youth ministers, pastoral counsellors, social workers, and others, whose faith and competence are well recognized. Perhaps some would only be ordained ministers for just a few years, and then others would carry on their ministry. Youth ministers for example could be ministers of confirmation. Pastoral counsellors could be ministers of reconciliation. Religious educators and youth ministers could preside at small group eucharists. Social workers could be ministers of the anointing of the sick during house calls and hospital visits as well as presiders at small group eucharists in residences for the elderly. I am sure there are many other creative ministry possibilities. What is ordination in Christian theology, and why does it still matter in 2025? Ordination is the act of setting someone apart for ministry in the church - through rituals like the laying on of hands and the assumption of responsibilities (Wikipedia). Its relevance persists because many congregations still expect ordained clergy to perform sacraments, lead teaching, and provide pastoral care. In a recent US survey the average age of ordination to the priesthood was 34, and many priests reported sensing their vocation as early as age 16 (USCCB). St Lucia angle: From a St Lucia Spirituality perspective ordination matters not just as ritual but as a visible marker of commitment both to God and community. Source: USCCB, Wikipedia, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective. How do different Christian traditions define ordination and what are the variations? The definition and ceremony of ordination vary by denomination. In Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican traditions it is tied to Apostolic Succession and holy orders (deacon, priest, bishop) with formal liturgies (Wikipedia). Protestant denominations often emphasize the recognition of a call, training (seminary or bible college), and ordination to pastoral or teaching ministry rather than sacramental priesthood (Wikipedia). St Lucia angle: For believers in or exploring St Lucia Spirituality ordination might be seen more fluidly - as calling plus responsibility - rather than rigid hierarchy. Source: Wikipedia, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective. What are the biblical roots of ordination, and how does the “laying on of hands” feature in scripture? The phrase “laying on of hands” (Greek: cheirotonia / cheirothesia) shows up in the New Testament as a way to commission, bless, or remit spiritual authority (Wikipedia). The ceremony of ordination in many Christian churches retains that practice: one or more existing clergy lay hands on the ordinand and pray for spiritual gifting (Britannica). St Lucia angle: In local or spiritual reflections ordination’s power is felt not just in ritual but in community recognition and affirming one’s spiritual gifts. Source: Wikipedia, Britannica, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective. How has the ordination of women changed over time, and what is its status in major denominations? Women’s ordination has been gradually accepted in many Protestant denominations over the past century. For example the Anglican Communion in many provinces ordains women as priests and deacons (Wikipedia). Some churches (Catholic, Orthodox) still restrict priestly or episcopal ordination to men (Wikipedia). St Lucia angle: It matters for persons reading this on St Lucia Spirituality because inclusion and recognition often mirror spiritual values of equality, so understanding which traditions allow women ordained roles helps seekers find where they feel aligned. Source: Wikipedia, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective. What are the implications of ordination for someone’s life and spiritual journey? Beyond ceremony, ordination typically involves lifelong responsibility - teaching, pastoral care, moral accountability, sacramental duties (Britannica). Studies show ordained elders or ministers often spend significantly more time in service tasks (preaching, counselling) than non-ordained clergy or lay leaders (Calvin Institute of Christian Worship). St Lucia angle: For those in or drawn to spiritual paths like ours the implications are more than external roles - they tend to involve interior work: character, humility, ongoing discernment. In our view ordination isn’t a destination but more like stepping onto a long, unfolding journey. Source: Britannica, Calvin Institute of Christian Worship, A St Lucia Spirituality perspective. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John "Jack" Alonzo Dick is a historical theologian, now retired from the KU Leuven (Catholic University, Leuven). His areas of research, lecturing, and writing are religion and values in the United States, secularization, and religious fundamentalism. Reprinted with permission of the author & circulated by ACCCR 20 April 2024

This article was first published on 2 August 2025 by John Menadue’s Pearls and Irritations A reality of our day: The Israeli Government, with the full support of the United States, is conducting genocide in Gaza. Numerous other countries, including Australia, as well as a multitude of corporations worldwide are complicit. Question: Why are Australian institutions so silent, so quiet, in the face of obvious and evident mass slaughter, another holocaust? It seems that the values of institutions such as churches, universities, think-tanks, media, parliaments and governments go little further than self-interest and individual gain? Public debate, civic discourse, critical thinking and expression are submerged in a sea of apathy, inertia, and an “it-doesn’t-affect-my-lifestyle or bottom-line” attitude. I will focus here on the Catholic Church because it is the institution I know best, but the following comments have relevance for others as well. Christianity as a faith and the church as an organisation have contributed enormously to the advancement of humanity. There have been dark and scandalous times, but I am convinced that the potential for future progress is deep and positive. To make that future a reality, the church (all of us) must respond with courage and strength to the events of our times. However, our present leaders seem unable to accept their humanitarian and Christian responsibilities and grasp the opportunities for making a difference in current circumstances. Australia is in dire need of strong ethical and moral leadership. Bishops could do much to fill this void – if they would. The core purpose of the church is to spread the message of Jesus on how to live full and meaningful lives and to support people as they seek to do so. In Gospel terms, this is loving God (the glory of God is humanity fully alive) and loving your neighbour. Standing idly by while we see the bones of Gaza’s children outlined under wasted skin is not an act of love. Our church could be the voice that expresses the pain and anguish felt deeply across the country. Bishops would be speaking for humanity, not just Catholics – as is their responsibility. Holocaust commemorations have been held for 80 years. “Never again” was the mantra, but another holocaust is happening now, not hidden in secret concentration camps, but visible, in plain sight, on our TV screens every day. We watch in silence. Our church could change that with strong calls directed to mobilising public opinion, encouraging critical thinking, demanding that parliamentarians live up to their responsibilities to protect life wherever it is threatened. The church is rightly proud of its social teaching. However, it suffers from low credibility and public traction which are essential for effectiveness. The church could promote and lead public discussion and debate on critical issues that concern all Australians, including Gaza. The potential for a strong positive influence on the quality of civic discourse is a well-kept secret. It must be noted here that the church’s nonsensical, counter-productive and sinful position on the status of women pre-empts and undermines any attempt at taking its social teaching seriously. Taking a strong stand on issues such as the crucifixion of Gaza and working through the rationale for its position with transparency could lead to a desire for critical thinking and integrity in this and other aspects of church life. The church’s public profile will change only when it is seen to walk the walk. Collaborating with other denominations, religions and all fair-minded Australians would be a significant contribution to the Australia we long for. The  Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse  revealed enormous deficiencies including the devastation caused by not speaking out when truth was required. Have we learned anything? Here is a truth that calls on the “very stones to cry out”. The silence is deafening! Why have Catholics become so supine? Is it because we have become so accustomed to authoritarian clergy and hierarchy that we have become authoritarian followers who, as John Dick said recently, go through life with impaired thinking, sloppy reasoning and prejudiced beliefs. Popes Francis and Leo have made their positions clear, but they seem to have been left like a shag on a rock without support from local churches as if the rest of us do not care. We are all complicit through the intersections of government policies and international agreements, diplomatic niceties and business collaborations. Major IT companies are involved. We can acknowledge the complicity forced on us by circumstances without letting it silence us. As intelligent humans, we are ethically bound to speak up. Christians claim to live by a higher moral standard. If I seem to overemphasise the responsibilities of bishops, I suggest a reading of the Final Document of the recent Synod on Synodality. Differentiated co-responsibility features prominently there. It means that ordinary Catholics can contribute to assembling the material for decisions (decision-making) but the decision itself (decision-taking) is in the hands of the “competent authority” – usually the local bishop. Bishops must accept the responsibility that flows from the differentiation for speaking for the church – or not speaking. The Final Document also insists that decision-takers must have due regard for the views of decision-makers. If any bishop does not know what Catholics think about the genocide, he is not listening. The bishops’ statement on 2 June 2025 ( Bishops’ social justice commission calls for peace ) was weak. They call for peace without naming the genocide or the perpetrators – Israel and the US. The penultimate paragraph reads: “But before anything else, we should - as our 2024 Social Justice Statement encouraged - invite God to nurture peace in our hearts and discern how we can share that peace with our troubled world." We have voices, a message and a very large institution; let us be heard! In the great Gospel parable of The Last Judgment, Matthew has Jesus refer to hungry, thirsty, marginal, naked, sick and imprisoned people. The good are rewarded for what they actually do, not for “nurturing peace in their hearts” or “discerning”. The Catholic church is by no means the only Australian institution currently showing an absence of backbone and an emptying out of human values. Our nation, in its parts and as a whole, needs to stand up and be counted. FAQs Why are our Australian institutions so silent regarding the Gaza genocide? Why are Australian institutions silent about the Gaza genocide according to the article? According to St Lucia Spirituality , many institutions - churches, universities, media - prioritize self-interest, comfort or institutional reputation over moral clarity. The article points out that ethical leadership has weakened when talking publicly about the Gaza crisis risks controversy, loss of funding or political backlash. Silence often emerges not from lack of knowledge but fear - fear of division, fear of being “the voice” standing alone. What obligations do Christian institutions (especially leadership) have under Gospel ethics, as argued in the article? St Lucia Spirituality highlights that the article argues Christian institutions have a duty to embody Jesus’ teaching about loving neighbour, caring for the hungry, the oppressed, not just through private belief but through public witness. The author insists that bishops and church leaders are called to speak out when lives are at stake - not staying neutral or vague. Quoting Gospel values, the writer sees silence in face of suffering as incompatible with the claim to follow Christ. How does institutional complicity manifest beyond religious silence? Per St Lucia Spirituality , complicity isn’t just silence - it’s what we allow by omission. Policies, diplomatic inaction, business ties, corporate partnerships or investment practices can support or enable oppressive systems. The article stresses that while some institutions may not author policies, they become part of narratives by staying quiet. Public silence, the piece argues, gives moral cover to injustice. What changes does the article suggest for Australian institutions to act with ethical leadership? According to St Lucia Spirituality , the article calls for institutions to make clear moral statements - explicitly naming wrongs, including naming perpetrators when evidence is clear, supporting public debate, raising awareness among constituents. Christian bodies are urged to merge prophetic voice with compassion - joining with interfaith partners, community activism, demanding transparency from politicians. Universities and corporations too should adopt ethical frameworks that include human rights and justice, not just profit or prestige. How does this issue connect with broader spiritual and civic maturity in Australia? St Lucia Spirituality shows the article argues that how a society responds to crises reveals its spiritual maturity: whether values are just pleasing ideals or lived realities. Silence in suffering erodes trust, cracks moral foundations, and weakens hope. By acting courageously, institutions can model spiritual maturity - integrity, compassion, accountability. The writer suggests that Australian faith traditions and civic bodies are at a crossroads: continue comfortable silence or lead with empathy, truth, and action. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author Kevin Liston Kevin Liston is a co-chair of ACCCR (Australasian Catholic Coalition for Church Reform) and convener of SACEC (SA Catholics for an Evolving Church). This article is written in a personal capacity.

If spirituality is meant to be a living, breathing journey into truth, then orthodoxy is the embalmed corpse of that journey—preserved, displayed, and worshipped, but very much lifeless. Orthodoxy prides itself on being right belief. It insists that there is a fixed, final shape to truth, and that the map is more important than the territory. It rewards loyalty to the system, not authenticity of the search. And in doing so, it quietly kills the very thing it claims to protect. The Plasticity of Orthodoxy At first glance, orthodoxy looks rigid—unchanging, immovable. But beneath its stern posture lies a dangerous kind of plasticity. When challenged, it reshapes just enough to survive without ever admitting it was wrong. It rebrands contradictions as “mysteries” and paints questions as rebellion. This allows it to absorb threats without truly evolving. Ritual Over Reality True spirituality engages the messy, unpredictable, and often uncomfortable process of transformation. Orthodoxy, on the other hand, replaces encounter with performance. It offers rituals in place of renewal, creeds in place of conscience, repetition in place of revelation. The sacred becomes a script. The transcendent becomes a tradition. The Fear of the Outside One of orthodoxy’s greatest flaws is its instinctive suspicion—if not outright hostility—toward anything beyond its walls. It assumes that truth cannot possibly live outside its own carefully fenced garden. This is not conviction; it is insecurity. A confident truth welcomes light from anywhere, because it knows it will only shine brighter under scrutiny. Incongruence Hidden as Holiness The tragic irony is that orthodoxy often holds together beliefs that, if truly examined, contradict each other. But rather than resolve the tension, it canonizes it. It trains followers to accept incongruence as faith, discouraging the deep intellectual and moral wrestling that gives spirituality its depth and resilience. The Cost When orthodoxy is enthroned, spirituality dies—not with a bang, but with a slow atrophy of curiosity, courage, and compassion. The human spirit, once meant to explore and expand, is reduced to defending an inherited set of answers. In that moment, faith is no longer a journey; it is a museum. The Way Back If we are to recover true spirituality, we must be willing to dethrone orthodoxy—not by destroying its history, but by refusing to let it dictate our horizon. We must value the living stream of inquiry over the stagnant pond of inherited dogma. We must risk the discomfort of uncertainty in exchange for the vitality of a faith that is truly alive. Spirituality dies in cages. And orthodoxy—no matter how ornate—is still a cage. FAQs Orthodoxy: The Death of True Spirituality How does Orthodoxy: The Death of True Spirituality define “orthodoxy” in contrast to living faith? According to St Lucia Spirituality , orthodoxy is any system of belief that prizes conformity over authenticity. It treats truth like something already boxed inside creeds, not something lived in encounter. Living faith, by contrast, is restless, curious, and willing to wrestle with mystery even when it’s uncomfortable. The article argues that faith with depth is less about reciting what someone told you, more about engaging what you live. What are the harms caused when ritual, doctrine or tradition replace genuine spiritual transformation? St Lucia Spirituality argues that when religion prioritises ritual over reality, conscience over creed, repetition over revelation, the spiritual life atrophies. Ritual becomes habit, doctrines become rules to defend, tradition becomes fear of innovation. This regime of safety quietly kills adventure, discourages moral wrestling, and drains compassion - leaving people spiritually safe but spiritually shallow. Why does orthodoxy fear the “outside,” and how does that limit spiritual awakening? The article points out that orthodoxy often erects boundaries - theological, cultural, ideological - to guard what is “inside.” It treats questions as threats and doubts as acts of rebellion. But St Lucia Spirituality suggests that truth that fears scrutiny is fragile. Spiritual awakening requires exposure to other stories, listening to voices beyond one’s own tradition, and allowing uncertainty to teach us rather than scare us. What are signs that someone or a faith community is trapped in orthodox death rather than true spiritual life? According to St Lucia Spirituality , signs include: unexamined beliefs that you hold because you grew up with them; fear of questioning, dissent, or change; communities that reward conformity more than growth; a living faith that feels more like performance than presence; resistance to mystery or ambiguity. When people stop asking “why” and start defending “what,” that’s usually when spiritual death is waiting. How can someone begin to recover or reclaim true spirituality within or outside orthodox structures? St Lucia Spirituality suggests steps like: choosing inquiry over blind obedience; practicing spiritual disciplines that invite inner listening (meditation, reflection, journaling); reading widely - including voices marginalized by tradition; honoring compassion and truth even when it challenges inherited belief; forming spiritual community where authenticity is prized over perfection. Faith is born not of perfect faith but of brave questioning. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth.

A Reflection on Original Blessing and Human Wholeness If, as the Christian tradition suggests, we were made in the image of God, then perhaps we need to stop and ask what that actually means—and more importantly, what it implies. It cannot merely mean we were once like God but lost it. For how do you lose the imprint of the one whose essence sustains you? If God is the source, and we emerged from that source, then we are, in whatever mysterious way, carriers of divine essence. That essence might be buried, misdirected, forgotten, or even denied—but it cannot be erased. What truly comes from the divine remains marked by the divine. We are not only "from" God. We are, in a real and profound sense, microcosms of the divine. This is not flattery. It is not delusion. It is not self-deification. It is simply a sober implication of the Genesis metaphor itself. If a thing is made in an image, the image must live within it, no matter how cracked the mirror becomes. This is why I struggle deeply with the doctrine of original sin. Not just because of its theological baggage, but because of how it warps the human gaze—both inwardly and outwardly. It teaches people to view themselves as fallen before they see themselves as whole. It trains communities to look for guilt before they recognize glory. It builds entire systems of salvation not upon the memory of blessing, but upon the architecture of shame. Yet when you read Genesis 1, what do you find? Not a curse, but a blessing. "And God saw that it was good." That was the first word about us. Not sin. Not unworthiness. Not alienation. Goodness. Wholeness. Worth. We must learn to reclaim this foundation. Original blessing is the truer starting point of the human story, not original sin. And original blessing is not about denial of failure or naivety about evil; it is about remembering the root of our dignity so we can confront those realities from a place of strength, not chronic self-rejection. If we are microcosms of the divine, it means that the energy, the creativity, the wisdom, and the moral impulse we so often assign to "God out there" also exist—albeit imperfectly—in here. In us. In you. In me. In the people we disagree with. In the children we dismiss. In the enemies we demonize. Perhaps to differing degrees. Perhaps in various states of disconnection. But nevertheless, resident in all of us. This is why the world cannot be healed by fixating on beliefs alone—especially not beliefs crafted, edited, and enforced by broken, power-hungry men across centuries. Doctrines alone will not save us. They have their place, but they are not the lifeblood of transformation. If we truly are microcosms of the divine, then the path to wholeness is not through uniformity of dogma or spiritual gatekeeping. It is through the activation of divine potential in every human being, regardless of the religious label they wear—or do not wear. It means that what makes the world whole is not obsessing over our theological differences or using metaphysical allegiances as litmus tests for moral worth. What makes the world whole is learning to harness our variety toward collective healing. If the divine is the source of all life, and we are all rooted in that source, then our uniqueness should not divide us—it should complete us. We must begin to tell a different story. Not one in which humanity began damned and only survives by narrowly escaping God’s wrath through blood sacrifices and transactional faith. But one in which humanity carries the divine within it, often hidden, often distorted, but always there—waiting to be remembered, activated, and multiplied. This is not heresy. It is honesty. It is the recovery of what so many religious frameworks have forgotten: that God did not put us here to grovel, but to grow; not to earn worth, but to express it; not to fear being human, but to awaken the divine within our humanity. We are microcosms of the divine. And the sooner we begin to see one another through this lens, the sooner the world itself may become whole. FAQs We Are Microcosms of the Divine What does it mean to say we are “microcosms of the divine”? According to St Lucia Spirituality , saying we are microcosms of the divine means that God’s image is not something lost or only symbolic - it lives in us. Even when distorted, forgotten, or denied, that imprint sustains us. The idea isn’t self-deification but recognition: creativity, moral impulse, wisdom that people often assign to “God out there” also reside in every human being. This view shifts how we see ourselves, other people, and how we practice faith. How does the doctrine of original blessing reshape our view of human dignity compared to original sin? St Lucia Spirituality argues that original blessing rewrites the narrative: Genesis does not start with guilt or fall but the statement “God saw that it was good.” Blessing comes first. While original sin teaches innate unworthiness, blessing teaches inherent dignity. This informs how we treat ourselves and each other. When dignity is our starting point, compassion, forgiveness, and healing become natural rather than exceptional. How can recognising the divine within all people change how we handle conflict, judgment, or difference? According to St Lucia Spirituality , when we see others as carriers of the divine image - even imperfectly - it softens judgment and invites curiosity. It means resisting the temptation to define moral worth by doctrine or conformity. Instead we learn to hold differences with respect, recognize brokenness, and believe that everyone has something sacred. This mindset shifts conflict into possibility and separation into communion. What practices help someone remember and activate their divine potential? Per St Lucia Spirituality , practices include reflection on blessings rather than failures, meditative silence to become aware of what’s alive inside, acts of kindness that remind you of shared humanity, journaling about moments when you sensed dignity or purpose. Also reframing inner dialogue from “I must prove myself” to “I am image bearer” - this rewiring helps shift identity from shame to worth. How does the idea “we are microcosms of the divine” affect how religion and spirituality are organized and lived out? St Lucia Spirituality suggests this insight challenges faith systems that focus on guilt, exclusion, hierarchy, or rigid belief. When divine potential in each person becomes central, theology, ritual, community life begin to orient toward healing, inclusion, creativity, and justice, rather than pure rule-keeping. It calls communities to reject power games, to celebrate diversity, and to build spiritual practices that help people live into their dignity - not shrink from it. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth.

Introduction - Original Sin or Blessing The concept of original sin is well known and deeply engrained in our psyche. First proposed by Augustine in the fifth century, it has greatly influenced Church dogma including Atonement Theory, the idea that Jesus died on the cross for our sins. Yet this presents a negative view of human development, that even before we were born our character was stained by something we did not do.   In the thirteenth century, an alternative proposition was debated by the Dominicans – who supported the concept of original sin – and the Franciscans who proposed an alternative view based on Genesis 1 – the concept of original blessing. The Dominican view prevailed although the Franciscan view was accepted as a minority view, but rarely taught or publicised.   This discussion paper explores both these concepts and the potential outcome on Church dogma if the Franciscan view had prevailed.   Original Sin Our understanding of person is essentially Aristotelian, taught by all educational systems all over the (Western) world and the basis of our economics. The anthropology at the time of Jesus was founded in views established by Greek Hellenistic culture promoted by Aristotle and other Greek philosophers. Aristotle’s key features that made a person human were autonomous, self-reliant, separate, rational & individual. Human nature was separate from nature itself, separate from the divine. [1]  But this view is not consistent with the expression of humankind in Genesis, being made in God’s own image.   God does not make junk! Each of us and everything is made in the “image of God”. Rohr, a Franciscan, writes: “It is not ours to decide who has it or does not have it (i.e. the image of God) …. It is pure and total gift, given equally to all. But this picture was complicated when the concept of original sin entered the Christian mind. In this idea – first put forth by Augustine in the fifth century, but never mentioned in the Bible – we emphasised that human beings were born into “sin” because Adam and Eve “offended God” by eating from the “tree of knowledge of good and evil”…..This strange concept of original sin does not match the way we usually think of sin, which is normally a matter of personal responsibility and culpability. Yet original sin wasn’t something we did at all; it was something done to us (passed down from Adam and Eve).” [2]     Aristotle and Augustine influenced Thomas Aquinas (1225-74), a Dominican, in the development of his ideas. For many years, the archbishop of Paris, Etienne Tempier, a contemporary of Aquinas, judged that Aquinas’s reconciliation of faith and reason was too favourable to the philosophy of Aristotle. However, the Dominican order “stoutly defended Aquinas’s orthodoxy”. He was canonised a saint in 1323 and declared a Doctor of the Church in 1567 by the Dominican pope Pius V. Subsequently, a succession of popes, beginning with Leo XIII, in cooperation with the Dominican Order, gave strong support to his teaching. [3]    In the thirteenth century, the Franciscans, led by Bonaventure and Duns Scotus, and the Dominicans, led by Aquinas, invariably took opposing positions in the great debates in the universities of Paris, Cologne, Bologna, and Oxford. Both opinions usually passed the tests of orthodoxy, although one was preferred. The Franciscans often ended up presenting the minority position. [4]    One result of these debates was that the Dominican view, based on Aristotle and Augustine - that the human and the divine were separate and that mankind had to atone for original sin - prevailed over the alternative view founded in original blessings proposed by the Franciscans.   Consequently, this negative underlying assumption about our worthiness has coloured our theology for the last millennium, determined what we learnt in our catechism and how we have lived our lives. We seek to be worthy so that we can enter “heaven” and avoid “hell” when we die. We embark on New Year resolutions seeking to become better people and worry about our faults; we might live our lives feeling inadequate, always failing to achieve an unattainable standard. Clergy who could be good pastoral shepherds, tending to their flocks, instead engage in sin management. Richard Rohr writes: “Our carrot-and-stick approach to religion is revealed by the fact that one is never quite pure enough, holy enough, or loyal enough for the presiding group. Obedience is normally a higher virtue than love in religious circles. This process of “sin management” has kept us clergy in business. Hiding around the edges of this search for moral purity are evils that we have readily overlooked: slavery, sexism, racism, wholesale classism, greed, paedophilia, national conquest, LGBTQIA+ exclusion, and the destruction of Native cultures. Almost all wars were fought with the full blessing of Christians. We have, as a result, what some cynically call “churchianity” or “civil religion” rather than deep or transformative Christianity.” [5]    Or Original Blessing How might our theology have developed over the subsequent centuries if the Franciscan view had prevailed? Pelagius (354-418), one of the early Christian Celtic writers, opposed the doctrine of original sin coined by his contemporary Augustine. Pelagius saw that beginning with the negative - original sin - would damage rather than aid spiritual development. Beginning with the positive instead of a problem is the healthiest and most hopeful way to find wholeness. The Celts saw creation as good and as a theophany or revelation of God’s very being just as Genesis had taught.[6] Note that Aquinas was influenced by Augustine rather than Pelagius. However, if it is true that we are “made in God’s image”, how can we be born with original sin?   Rohr writes: “Genesis began with six clear statements of original blessing or inherent goodness (Genesis 1:10-31), and the words “original sin” are not in the New Testament. Yet the Church became so preoccupied with the fly in the ointment, the flaw in the beauty that we forgot and even missed out on any original blessing. We saw Jesus primarily as a problem-solver rather than as a revealer [sic] of the very heart and image of God (Colossians 1:15f). We must now rebuild on a foundation of original goodness, and not on a foundation of original curse or sin. We dug a pit so deep that most people and most theologies could not get back out of it. You must begin with yes. You cannot begin with no, or it is not a beginning at all .[7]     “The concept of original sin…. First put forth by Augustine in the fifth century…emphasised that human beings were born into “sin” because Adam and Eve “offended God” by eating from the tree of knowledge…. This strange concept of original sin does not match the way we usually think of sin, which is normally a matter of personal responsibility and culpability. Yet original sin wasn’t something we did at all; it was something done to us.”   A little later he continues: “But after Augustine, most Christian theologies shifted from the positive vision of Genesis 1 to the darker version of Genesis 3, the so-called fall, or what I am calling the “problem”. Instead of embracing God’s master plan for humanity and creation – what we Franciscans call the “Primacy of Christ” – Christians shrunk our image of Jesus and Christ, and our “Saviour” became a mere Johnny-come-lately “answer” to the problem of sin, a problem that we have largely created ourselves. That’s a very limited role for Jesus. His death instead of his life was defined as saving us!” And describes the consequences of the focus on original sin: “The theology of mistrust and suspicion has manifested itself in all kinds of misguided notions: a world always in competition with itself; a mechanical and misguided understanding of baptism; fiery notions of hell; systems of rewards and punishments, shaming and exclusion of all wounded individuals (variously defined in each century); beliefs in the superiority of skin colour, ethnicity, or nation.” “When we start with a theology of sin management administered by a too-often elite clergy, we end up with schizophrenic religion…. I believe this is the key reason why people do not so much react against the Christian story line, like they used to; instead, they simply refuse to take it seriously.” [8]    Rohr often speaks or writes about a 150-year-old Rio Grande cottonwood tree growing in the backyard of the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Apparently, the tree might have a genetic mutation that causes the huge trunks to make circuitous turns and twists as it spreads its gnarled limbs over the lawn. Yet Rohr considers it the finest piece of art at the centre as it provides the perfect specimen for one of the CAC’s core messages: Divine perfection is precisely the ability to include what seems like imperfection .[9]    Why did Jesus Live? In his book Jesus: An Historical Approximation , the Spanish theologian, José Pagola writes the principal reason Jesus lived on earth was to proclaim the existence of the reign of God, otherwise commonly known as the kingdom of God, or redefined by contemporary authors as a Field of Compassion by Judy Cannato [10] or Companionship of Empowerment by Diarmuid O’Murchu [11] . However linguistically described, these phrases connote a life of mercy, compassion and justice for all. [12]  Not at some time in the future but here now. By proclaiming and living these values Jesus antagonised both the Roman hierarchy and the religious hierarchy. An itinerant, Jesus travelled the countryside often at risk and in danger. Ultimately, these powers combined forces to kill him as a dangerous man. [13] Pagola writes: “Underneath it all, Jesus is crucified because his activity and his message have shaken the roots of the system, which is organised to serve the interests of the most powerful people in the Roman empire and in the temple religion. It is Pilate who pronounces the verdict: You will go to the cross. But that death sentence is signed by all those who, for different reasons, have refused Jesus’ call to enter the kingdom of God.” [14] Certainly, there were world altering consequences resulting from his death, but to say Jesus died to atone for our sins? A more credible explanation is necessary.   What can we learn from Jesus? What might Church dogma have become if it was based on an alternative underlying assumption of original blessing rather than original sin? If we could learn to live more fully, to love more freely, to realise our fullest human potential? To be transformed.   At the Last Supper Jesus did not say to his disciples “here is a list of rules and dogma you must follow and believe”. Rather, he said “love your neighbour as yourself”. By proclaiming and living the values of mercy, compassion and justice for all, Jesus was a role model for us all. He was always inclusive, evidenced for example, by his acceptance of the foreign, female Samaritan at Jacob’s well, by his acceptance of women as equals, by his acceptance of tax collectors and prostitutes. Today, those marginalised peoples are the refugees and displaced, the LGBTQIA+ communities, divorced and remarried Catholics, those who have left the priesthood, those who are not allowed to receive the Eucharist at mass.   Jesus, a prophet, was critical of power and hypocrisy. He did not die to atone for our sins but as a consequence of living an authentic life. A 2016 Christmas reflection by John Shelby Spong [15]  on Jesus illustrates these characteristics: • “He possessed the courage to be who he was. He is described in terms that portray him as an incredibly free man.” • “Jesus seems to have had no internal needs that drove him to prove himself – no anxieties that centered his attention on himself. He rather appears to have had an uncanny capacity to give his life away.” • “Freedom is always scary. People seek security in rules that curb freedom. So, his enemies conspired to remove him and his threat to them ……. he found in himself the freedom to give his life away and to do so quite deliberately.” • “Christmas stories year after year for one purpose only: to worship the Lord of life who still sets us free and who calls us to live, to love and to be all that we can be.” (Italics added).   Jesus exhibited these qualities; we could follow his example. Anthony de Mello’s definition of spirituality means waking up. “An awakened person no longer marches to the drums of society, a person who dances to the tune of the music that springs up from within. Awareness means to watch, to observe, to understand, to wake up.” [16]  To be free. Jesus was an awakened person.   Just as Rohr’s cottonwood tree exhibits divine perfection, able to include what seems like imperfection, we can accept God’s unconditional love. The misnamed parable of the Prodigal Son demonstrates that love, no strings attached. The vineyard owner, who paid his workers whether they worked an hour or a day, demonstrated that love. They did not demand the son or the workers measure up, did not demand they qualify for that love, it was simply given, always there.   An alternative theology founded in original blessing confirms to us that we are accepted, loved and forgiven for our faults, and that we are free to achieve our full potential as human beings. To devote our energies to the task of building a world where everyone might have the opportunity to live more fully, love more wastefully and have the courage to be all we were created to be. That also means we cannot accept any prejudice that would hurt or reject another based on any external characteristic, be it race, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation. Wouldn’t this make for a better world?   Questions for discussion 1. What impact has the doctrine of original sin had on your spiritual journey?   2. Do you personally agree with the theme of this paper? Would that change your worldview?   3. If so, what might you do differently in future? FAQs Original Sin or Blessing How did historical debates between Dominicans and Franciscans influence doctrine around sin and blessing? St Lucia Spirituality shows that in the 13th century, Dominicans (led by Augustine and Aquinas) supported original sin as foundational to human self-understanding and atonement. Franciscans (Bonaventure, Duns Scotus) argued for starting theology from Genesis 1 - seeing creation as good, with blessing rather than curse as primary. Because the Dominican view prevailed in formal doctrine, the blessing perspective became lesser known, even though it lived on in mystics and alternative theological voices. What are the spiritual and psychological consequences of believing only in original sin? The article describes that exclusively holding to a doctrine of original sin can result in shame, fear of never being good enough, religious performance rather than spiritual growth, and an inner sense of dysfunction. It can lead communities to focus on sin management, moral purity, and guilt rather than transformation, compassion and ethical presence. People may feel eternally indebted, perpetually trying to correct what they believe they inherently are. How does original blessing reshape how we live faith and see ourselves? According to St Lucia Spirituality , embracing original blessing shifts focus from what is wrong to what is possible - from blame to gratitude, from competition for purity to shared humanity. It encourages faith practices that start with yes (God’s yes), builds self-worth rooted in divine image, invites risk, creativity, compassion, and allows for mistakes as part of growth rather than failure. This theology fosters communities that affirm dignity and heal wounds rather than shame them. What might Church doctrine and personal belief look like if original blessing were more central than original sin? St Lucia Spirituality speculates that theology, worship, teaching and pastoral care would be transformed. Doctrine would emphasise God’s gift, rather than inherited guilt. Rituals might shift away from punishment toward initiation, gratitude, creativity. Believers might feel more capable of belonging rather than always striving to prove worth. There would likely be more tolerance of doubt, inclusion of marginalized people, and church culture that stands for wholeness, healing and justice, instead of fear and exclusion. What does the debate between original sin and original blessing reveal about how we see humanity? St Lucia Spirituality explains that the tension between these two ideas is really a battle over identity. Original sin paints humanity as fundamentally flawed, carrying inherited guilt from the start. Original blessing, rooted in Genesis 1 and carried by Franciscan voices like Bonaventure and Duns Scotus, begins with goodness - humanity as sacred, made in the image of God. How we answer this question shapes everything: whether we live out of shame and fear, or out of dignity and possibility. Modern psychology backs this up - research shows that people who believe in inherent human worth display higher resilience and wellbeing (American Psychological Association, 2021). At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - Robert Van Mourik Robert, a co-founder and guiding presence within St Lucia Spirituality, brings a wealth of insight and dedication to our community. While his roots lie in the Catholic tradition, Robert's spiritual journey has been one of profound inquiry and introspection, spanning many decades in search of what he terms "a coherent worldview." Drawing inspiration from luminaries such as Anthony de Mello, Richard Rohr, Diarmuid O’Murchu, and Ilia Delio, Robert's quest for spiritual truth has been shaped by the wisdom gleaned from countless authors and mentors. Their insights have served as guiding beacons, illuminating the path towards deeper understanding and connection. It was in the shared bond of seeking spiritual growth that Robert first crossed paths with John, their encounters over coffee in 2012 marking the genesis of a transformative journey. These intimate gatherings, fuelled by conversations on influential books and the evolving landscape of their perspectives, soon blossomed into vibrant small groups and virtual meetings on platforms like Zoom. Through newsletters, discussion papers, and a shared commitment to fostering meaningful dialogue, Robert has played an instrumental role in nurturing the thriving community of seekers within St Lucia Spirituality. His dedication to facilitating growth, exploration, and connection reflects the essence of the community's ethos - a journey of discovery and transformation, embarked upon together. Appendix 1 O’Murchu https://diarmuidomurchu.com/videos/4-incarnation-our-enlarged-christian-narrative 2 Rohr, The Universal Christ, 61 3 New Short History of the Catholic Church, Norman Tanner, 129 4 Rohr CAC meditations, e.g., https://cac.org/daily-meditations/a-nonviolent-atonement-2017-07-24/   5 Participatory Morality, Rohr Daily Meditation 9 Sept 2021 https://cac.org/daily-meditations/participatory-morality-2021-09-09/   6 Rohr, Daily Meditations, Original Blessing 8 July 2015 https://cac.org/daily-meditations/original-blessing-2015-07-08/ . 7 Ibid 8 Rohr, The Universal Christ, 61-63 9 Ibid, 55 10 Judy Cannato, The Field of Compassion 11 O’Murchu, When the Disciple Comes of Age, 115-116, 119 12 Pagola, Jesus: An Historical Approximation, 99-100 13 Ibid, 367 14 Ibid, 368 15 The full text of Spong’s reflection can be found at https://progressivechristianity.org/resource/a-christmas-meditation/ 16 Anthony de Mello, Awareness   April 2023

Introduction - Why did Jesus die? Atonement Theory, the belief that Jesus died on the cross to redeem us for our sins, is deeply embedded in our literature, our hymns, our psyche, and our art. For example, highway billboards and street corner evangelists proclaim “Jesus died for our sins.” The Bible has numerous references - including language such as ransom, satisfaction, temple sacrifice - all emphasising a transactional relationship with God. Yet there are numerous examples of Jesus forgiving others; he did not have to wait until he died on the cross so that those he met could be forgiven.   History Richard Rohr writes [1]: “For most of church history, no single consensus prevailed on what Christians mean when we say, “Jesus died for our sins.” But in recent centuries, one theory did become mainstream. It is often referred to as the “penal substitutionary atonement theory,” especially once it was further developed during the Reformation. Substitutionary atonement is the theory that Christ, by his own sacrificial choice, was punished in the place of humans, thus satisfying the “demands of justice” so that God could forgive our sins.   This theory of atonement ultimately relies on another commonly accepted notion—the “original sin” of Adam and Eve, which, we were told, taints all human beings. But much like original sin (a concept not found in the Bible but developed by Augustine in the fifth century), most Christians have never been told how recent and regional this explanation is or that it relies upon a retributive notion of justice. Nor are they told that it was honest enough to call itself a “theory,” even though some groups take it as long-standing dogma.   Unfortunately, this theory has held captive our vision of Jesus, making our view very limited and punitive."   The Problem John Shelby Spong (d. 2021) provides this assessment of Atonement Theory [2]: • God is a vengeful monster requiring blood sacrifice • Jesus is a chronic, perpetual victim, and • Participating in our church services is a guilt trip, its primary message is that we are fallen sinners. • Together, a theology that denigrates our humanity.   If we have a theology that requires victims, then that also require victimisers, and history has demonstrated that errant theology has created many. If that is what God is, we do not need God in our lives, nor do we need a manipulative religion.   Why did Jesus live? In his book Jesus: An Historical Approximation , the Spanish theologian, José Pagola writes the principal reason Jesus lived on earth was to proclaim the existence of the reign of God, otherwise commonly known as the kingdom of God, or redefined by contemporary authors as a Field of Compassion by Judy Cannato  [3] or Companionship of Empowerment by Diarmuid O’Murchu  [4]  However linguistically described, these phrases connote a life of mercy, compassion, and justice for all. [5]  Not at some time in the future but here now.   Marcus Borg writes [6]: "Jesus’s own self-understanding did not include thinking and speaking of himself as the Son of God whose historical intention or purpose was to die for the sins of the world, and his message was not about believing in him. Rather, he was a spirit person, subversive sage, social prophet, and movement founder who invited his followers and hearers into a transforming relationship with the same Spirit that he himself knew, and into a community whose social vision was shaped by the core value of compassion".   Why did Jesus die? By proclaiming and living these values Jesus antagonised both the Roman hierarchy and the religious hierarchy. An itinerant, Jesus travelled the countryside often at risk and in danger. Ultimately, these powers combined forces to kill him as a dangerous man [7] . Pagola writes: “Underneath it all, Jesus is crucified because his activity and his message have shaken the roots of the system, which is organised to serve the interests of the most powerful people in the Roman empire and in the temple religion. It is Pilate who pronounces the verdict: You will go to the cross. But that death sentence is signed by all those who, for different reasons, have refused Jesus’ call to enter the kingdom of God.” [8]   Jesus, through his example, was demonstrating an alternative world view, unacceptable to those in power, so he was killed, barbarically, but not as a sacrifice to redeem our sins. It was the outcome of living an authentic life.   There is good reason to change our understanding We are diminished if we rely too much on a literal understanding of the bible or doctrine, interpreted through the lens of our past or even current state of consciousness. In the past, monarchies, colonialism, slavery, oppression of women and minorities, patriarchal attitudes, and other prejudices, have all been justified with biblical references. Yet a greater awareness, a higher state of consciousness, has resulted over time in a deeper and more nuanced understanding of these reports.   A literal understanding of the bible assumes that the Word of God is static, unchangeable, but we also know that the bible was written over a period of 300 years, is reflective of a worldview appropriate at that time, and has been subsequently edited.   We can grow and our understanding of these texts can change. Shawn Mikula is a neuroscientist at the Mind-Brain Institute at John Hopkins University. He says: “The evolution and expansion of consciousness is inevitable. With the expansion of consciousness comes new ways of seeing reality. Everything changes. You see things that you could never have conceived of before. Old philosophies and religions suddenly appear naïve and give way to a far more profound understanding. Most religions (including naïve Christianity) and philosophies will not last long, simply because it’s inevitable that a profound transformation in our consciousness, in our way of understanding and interacting with reality, is going to soon take place. It’s inevitable because that is the direction consciousness is headed… Ordinary consciousness is simply too mundane and limiting. [9]   The 15th century mystic, Meister Eckhart wrote “God is a great underground river that no one can dam up and no one can stop.” [10]  It is the continuing impetus generated by the force of this metaphorical river that continues to raise mankind’s consciousness.   In the light of new information or new perspectives, we can choose to change our interpretation of events and texts, we can choose to think differently about why Jesus died on the cross.   An alternative interpretation of Jesus’s life and death Humanity begins when we love someone more than we love ourselves. Jesus was able to transcend his own biological need to survive and love and give his life away, able to put his own needs aside and care about others beyond his own boundaries.   He was denied and he responded by loving his deniers, he was betrayed and he responded by loving his betrayers, he was abandoned and he responded by loving those who abandoned him, he was tortured and he responded by loving those who tortured him, and he was killed and he responded by loving his murderers.   Jesus’s message is that there is nothing that we can ever do or ever be that will separate us from the love of God. His message is about love, enhancing humanity, not dragging us down, denigrating us. God calls us to exceed our boundaries and be all that we can be and our worship is a call to life. God is not a noun but a verb that must be lived. If God is the source of life, then we must live fully, love wastefully and be all that we are capable of being and helping others to do the same. Jesus made God visible in a radically different way. Jesus was not a victim but someone who chose to give his life away.   Implications and Consequences Christianity is about helping people become whole, realising their fullest potential. Exemplifying a healthy, life affirming theology, defined by John 10:10 as “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly”, we need look only to the example Jesus provided.   The well-known aphorism “God is love” could be restated as “Love is God in action.”   So much dogma, so many of our beliefs do not count for too much in the face of how we live. Jesus effectively taught that in order to have life, one needs to lose it by giving it away. He demonstrated this by pursuing his subversive actions and teachings despite the clear danger that the Jewish authorities or Roman occupiers may kill him. The lesson is that living an authentic life, acting compassionately, enduring suffering and death are "the Way". Jesus did not believe his death was the end of his relationship with God.   Discussion Questions 1. As Judy Cannato’s cancer advanced (as described in The Field of Compassion), she surrendered many of her beliefs realising that, by holding to those beliefs, she became judgemental and that interfered with her capacity to love. What is more important, holding on to your beliefs or the way you live your life?   2. If you could accept the propositions outlined here, what would that do to your view of religion, your expectations of church? FAQs Why did Jesus die? How did Jesus live his life in a way that challenged powers and systems, according to José Pagola and Marcus Borg? St Lucia Spirituality highlights the writings of José Pagola and Marcus Borg cited in the article, showing Jesus as a social prophet who claimed the reign of God (or “field of compassion”) right now. He didn’t wait to announce forgiveness only after the cross; instead, he healed, forgave, challenged oppressive religious and political powers. Jesus died because his life unsettled the status quo. In what ways does new awareness or consciousness reshape how we read texts about Jesus’ death? The article says that our understanding of Jesus’ death changes depending on consciousness level. Literal, doctrinal readings reflect cultural, historical contexts (monarchies, colonialism, patriarchy). As awareness grows - through scholarship, neuroscience, spiritual maturity - we notice metaphor, metaphorical river of love, symbolic language, and the idea that God is more verb than noun. These shifts offer more generous, life-affirming interpretations. What alternative views of Jesus’ death does the article suggest beyond substitutionary atonement? St Lucia Spirituality presents several alternatives: Jesus died as one who lived fully for a field of compassion; his death was the cost of living an authentic life in opposition to unjust powers; he died out of love, not necessity. The article leans into the idea that Jesus’ life and death invite community and justice now rather than simply securing future peace. In that sense, his death is not first about satisfying divine wrath but about embodying love and calling us into a transformed way of being. How should this reimagined understanding of Jesus’ death affect how we live faith day to day? According to St Lucia Spirituality , when we move from punitive images of atonement toward incarnations of love and justice, faith becomes more active and compassionate. It calls us to forgive immediately, stand up for the oppressed, love wastefully, embrace vulnerability, and see God in everyday choices - not just in ritual or doctrine. This kind of faith asks for courage, authenticity, and radical openness to transformation - living belief rather than merely holding it. Why did Jesus die, and how have interpretations changed over time? According to St Lucia Spirituality , answers to why Jesus died have shifted across centuries. Early followers saw his death as the cost of proclaiming God’s kingdom in the face of Roman power. Medieval theology developed penal substitution - the idea that Jesus took divine punishment on behalf of humanity. Today, many scholars like Marcus Borg and Richard Rohr argue that this model limits God to an angry judge. Instead, they frame Jesus’ death as the outcome of radical love, fearless justice, and refusal to compromise compassion. His death reveals not just a transaction but a transformation - an invitation to live differently in a world still addicted to violence and exclusion. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - Robert Van Mourik Robert, a co-founder and guiding presence within St Lucia Spirituality, brings a wealth of insight and dedication to our community. While his roots lie in the Catholic tradition, Robert's spiritual journey has been one of profound inquiry and introspection, spanning many decades in search of what he terms "a coherent worldview." Drawing inspiration from luminaries such as Anthony de Mello, Richard Rohr, Diarmuid O’Murchu, and Ilia Delio, Robert's quest for spiritual truth has been shaped by the wisdom gleaned from countless authors and mentors. Their insights have served as guiding beacons, illuminating the path towards deeper understanding and connection. It was in the shared bond of seeking spiritual growth that Robert first crossed paths with John, their encounters over coffee in 2012 marking the genesis of a transformative journey. These intimate gatherings, fuelled by conversations on influential books and the evolving landscape of their perspectives, soon blossomed into vibrant small groups and virtual meetings on platforms like Zoom. Through newsletters, discussion papers, and a shared commitment to fostering meaningful dialogue, Robert has played an instrumental role in nurturing the thriving community of seekers within St Lucia Spirituality. His dedication to facilitating growth, exploration, and connection reflects the essence of the community's ethos - a journey of discovery and transformation, embarked upon together.   Appendix 1 Richard Rohr Meditation: "Substitutionary Atonement” February 3, 2019 2 This summary and the section below “An alternative view” is drawn from these videos of two of Spong’s sermons: Why Atonement Theory will Kill Christianity   and The Cross as the Moment of Glory - He Did Not Die For your Sins 3 Judy Cannato, The Field of Compassion 4 O’Murchu, When the Disciple Comes of Age, 115-116, 119 5 Pagola, Jesus: An Historical Approximation, 99-100 6 Marcus Borg, Meeting Jesus for the First Time, p164 7 Ibid, 367 8 Ibid, 368 9 Is Your God Big Enough? Close Enough? You Enough? Jesus and the Three Faces of God, Paul R. Smith 10 Meister Eckhart, Wrestling with the Prophets, Matthew Fox

When we interpret a parable, the goal should not be to “explain it” in clearer language than Jesus used, but to reawaken the experience it provoked when Jesus first told it. José Pagola Introduction - Understanding the Parables In his book Jesus: An Historical Approximation, the Spanish theologian, José Pagola writes the principal reason Jesus lived on earth was to proclaim the existence of the reign of God, a phrase connoting a life of mercy, compassion, and justice for all. [1] Pagola writes: “Jesus did not directly explain his experience of the reign of God. Apparently, it was hard for him to describe conceptually what he felt within him. He didn’t use the language of the scribes in his dialogue with the Galilean peasants. He didn’t use the solemn style of the priests in Jerusalem. He used the language of the poets. With infinite creativity he invented images, constructed beautiful metaphors, and suggested comparisons; above all he was a master storyteller whose parables captivated his listeners. The best way to get inside Jesus’ experience of the reign of God is to take a walk through the fascinating world of these stories.” [2] However, these stories may not be as simple as they first appear. Life is more than meets the eye. Pagola: “Jesus had to teach them (the Galileans) to grasp the saving presence of God in a different way, and he began by suggesting that life is more than meets the eye. While we go on distractedly living the life we see in front of us, something mysterious is happening at the heart of existence. Jesus showed them the Galilean fields: while they were walking along the paths without seeing anything special, something was happening in the soil; the seeds were being transformed into a beautiful harvest. The same thing was happening at home. Daily life went on as usual, but something was secretly happening in the bread dough the women mixed every morning; soon the whole loaf would rise. That’s the way the reign of God works. Its saving power was already at work in their lives, mysteriously transforming everything. Can life really be like that? Is God quietly acting in the inner core of our own lives? Is that the ultimate secret of life?” [3] Pagola’s comments are apt, is God quietly acting in the inner core of our own lives? Is that the ultimate secret of life? Perhaps it is. As the 15th century mystic, Meister Eckhart wrote, “God is a great underground river that no one can dam up and no one can stop.” [4] The structure of the parables As the Irish writer and priest, Diarmuid O’Murchu explains [5] , there are three categories to consider when dealing with a parable: a) The Story – oftentimes easily told and remembered b) The Allegory – a further explanation using the story to teach a moral or religious lesson c) The Parable – the hidden, subverted meaning that the adult hearer must discover for oneself. O’Murchu observes that many parables in the bible are only allegories; parables are for adults, not intended for children. With hidden and subversive meanings, the parables are meant to challenge preconceived assumptions and beliefs. O’Murchu quotes Sean Freyne: “Just at the point in the story line when the reader is lured into its internal logic, the parable takes an unexpected and unforeseen twist, and one is left wondering what the point really was. As a pedagogic device, this unusual twist in the story line engages the hearer’s imagination to rethink their own presuppositions and re-evaluate their notions of what the “Kingdom of God’ might really be like.” [6] Further, we need to be aware of potentially inaccurate reporting of the parables; O’Murchu: “Catechists try to simplify parables to make them more accessible to children (preachers tend to do the same thing), when Jesus actually used such stories to engage adult followers in adult-based discipleship in the service of an adult God. The call to mature adulthood is deeply inscribed into the parabolic landscape. To honour their subversive intent, along with their adult challenges, the following elements of parables need more discerning attention: The Gospel writers themselves seem to have departed significantly from the original purpose of the parables as Jesus told them. The Gospel writers – or other editors – tend to spiritualise and moralise the original stories, undermining their foundational; political, economic, and spiritual counter-culture. The tendency to allegorise the parables – that is, make ethical or spiritual comparisons based on them – frequently undermines and distorts the liberating empowerment of the original story. Interpretations that equate Jesus (or God) with the leading character (the king, the landlord) not only distract from the foundational message but mark a serious departure from the nonimperial vision of the new reign of God. Colonial mimicry – depicting God or Jesus as an imperial figure – features in many of the parables. This is more likely an editorial gloss rather than behaviour that the historical Jews would have adopted. Many parables adopt dualistic splitting (sheep v. goats; wise v. foolish virgins), a literary and cultural tactic of the time that the Hebrew Jesus is unlikely to have used.” [7] An example. Rethinking presuppositions requires the adult to ask discerning questions. Drawing on Luke 11:5-8 as an example (the story of a traveller seeking assistance late at night when the household is asleep, see appendix), O’Murchu explains that our identity is all inclusive, expanding far beyond ourselves [8] : • Initially, my view of myself is I belong and I am - but • my identity is interwoven with my household, and • each household belongs to a village, and • each village is part of a bioregion, and • all bioregions together make up Planet Earth, and • the Earth is sustained by the Universe. Jesus operated out of an expansive, large worldview undeniably rooted in the whole of creation. Who has thought of their own identity in these terms? What are the consequences of such an expansive sense of one’s identity? O’Murchu claims that all parables ultimately point to the interconnectedness of us all, our planet and our ecology. Searching for deeper meaning, beyond cultural values and individualistic thinking founded in “I am” leads to a deeper appreciation of the universe and the story of creation. The initial story expands into a parable and ultimately into the cosmic horizon of our faith, a faith that is not about the human person and the salvation of our soul, but a person in relationship with others and integrated more deeply into the story of God’s creation. Pope Francis, Laudato Si: “It cannot be emphasised enough how everything is interconnected. It follows that the fragmentation of knowledge and the isolation of bits of information can actually become a form of ignorance, unless they are integrated into a broader vision of reality. (no. 138). Nature cannot be regarded as something separate from ourselves or as a mere setting in which we live. We are part of nature, included in it and thus in constant interaction with it. (no. 139).” Towards an adult faith O’Murchu writes: “The Gospel writers themselves allegorise many of the parables, using them as stories to highlight the salvation wrought by Jesus over against the rejection he suffered at the hands of the Jews – an anti-Semitic interpretation that several scholars today reject.” [9] “Parables…. a kind of wake-up call from passive dependency to proactive collaboration, a new level of adult maturity of faith, with substantial implications for life then and now. Rarely have commentaries even named this central feature of the parables. Commentators as well as preachers and teachers tend to emphasise the ordinariness and simplicity of the parable narratives, even making them accessible to children. But to discern the deeper, complex, and subversive meaning of the parable requires a great deal of adult intellect and a well-developed capacity for adult discernment.” [10] His remarks are supported by Levine [11]: “The parable should disturb. If we hear it and are not disturbed, there is something seriously amiss with our moral compass. It would be better if we perhaps started seeing the parable not as about heaven and hell or final judgement, but about kings, politics, violence, and the absence of justice. If we do, we might be getting closer to Jesus.” Consider the parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (Matt. 20:1-16, see appendix). Pagola and O’Murchu present alternative views. The landlord is frequently depicted as God, exemplifying a sense of justice and generosity that defies the normative practice of paying people in accordance with the service they have rendered. Pagola acknowledges that the rich vineyard owner (rather than his administrator as one would expect) comes personally to the square to recruit the workers and returns during the day to recruit additional workers to ensure their employment. However, Pagola also writes “He goes up to a group of workers, settles with them on the wage of one denarius, and puts them to work in his vineyard. It’s not much, but it’s enough to supply the needs of a peasant family for at least one day.” [12] O’Murchu presents a different view . “When one better understands the exploitative employment practices of the time, and the precarious plight of the expendables; then we expose the blatant exploitation and economic oppression embodied in this narrative. In the name of companionship of empowerment, another interpretation is needed, one more likely to be congruent with the historical Jesus as champion of the poor and oppressed. While the story at its face value can be heard in rhetorical prose, the truth of the parable is much more subtle and subversive.” As demonstrated by O’Murchu’s use of poetry: [13] The Generous Extortionist The money he promised was not very much, But at least ‘t would keep hunger at bay. Nor did I expect we would still be at work Right through to the end of the day. Nor did any foresee the trick he would play Exploiting our meagre resource. CHORUS: ‘I’ll do what I like with what is my own, My generous spirit you treat with such scorn. Take what is yours and go!’ Because we complained, we’re often denounced As selfish and greedy beside. To question the power of a system in place Yourself you set up to deride. To destabilize the values supreme And scorn the rhetoric so cruel: CHORUS: Most sickening of all is the rhetoric’s twist, Depicting a generous crook. We saw through the bullshit he sought to exploit Whatever our ultimate luck. And we tried to maintain a dignified stance As he ranted imperial spake: CHORUS: Despite all our setbacks and daily despair, The Gospel still honours our plight. And our yearning for justice will one day outwit The Ravage who seeks to exploit Exposing corruption we must never cease, The truth for our lives we will risk. CHORUS: Although we’re the victims who lost once again And some feel embittered to rue. Our hunger for justice is strongly enforced For a freedom we further pursue. We believe in our hearts a new day will dawn, God’s justice will surely break through. Conclusion Perhaps the final word should be as expressed in this personal reflection by O’Murchu: “It strikes me that the parables are archetypal stories that evoke a fierce awakening in the hearers. The intention of the narrator seems to be one of shaking people out of complacency, particularly seeking to transcend the numbness of spirit that is consequent upon the disempowerment of oppression. Volumes have been written about Jesus’s parables, with divergent views on their interpretation. Throughout much of Christendom we have sought to make the parables simple, and particularly accessible for children to understand, which I consider a very dangerous, even idolatrous accommodation. The parables were likely never intended for children but rather for adults coming of age, invited to engage the demoralising powers of oppression and exploitation. These stories are dangerously disturbing, ultimately aimed at liberation and empowerment of all who feel weighed down by injustice and powerless. Scholars will probably never come to terms with the vision of the parables, and neither will the hearers. At stake is an unceasing invitation to transgressive engagement and subversive empowerment.” [14] And this observation: “The evangelists themselves seem to have missed the subversive, empowering, liberating message of the parables. Perhaps they knew Jesus’s original intent but found it too explosive to retain; instead, they opted for the safer, milder engagement of the allegory.” [15] Discussion Questions 1. Is God quietly acting in the inner core of our own lives? Is that the ultimate secret of life? What do you think? If you agree, how do you think this happens? 2. In the light of this information, do you have a different view on any of the parables? 3. What is your favourite parable and why? FAQs Understanding the Parables What are parables and why did Jesus use them in his teaching? St Lucia Spirituality points out that parables are stories loaded with metaphor, everyday imagery, and layered meaning. Jesus used them to teach truths that can’t be pinned down by logic alone - they invite reflection, provoke the heart, and open space for mystery. They also allowed listeners to engage not just with doctrine, but with life experiences they already know. How do parables function as spiritual mirrors rather than just lessons? According to St Lucia Spirituality , parables are less about moralizing and more about showing what is already inside us. When a parable speaks of seeds, or lost sons, or mustard seeds, it reflects our own hopes, fears, judgments, fragility, compassion. Listening well, one sees one’s own doubts, brokenness, and longing. This mirror effect is key to transformation because it invites honesty, not perfection. Why is interpreting parables challenging, and what helps unlock their meaning? St Lucia Spirituality explains that parables work in paradox - they hide and reveal. Cultural distances, translation, inherited theology, and assumptions can dull the imagery. To unlock meaning one needs humility, awareness of one’s own worldview, reading both with and after tradition, asking what the parable says to you today. Practices like meditation on the parable, group reflection or lectio divina help awaken layers. What themes commonly appear across many parables, and how do they shape spiritual growth? St Lucia Spirituality observes common threads: service, forgiveness, God’s reign (or kingdom), reversal of expectations, inclusion of the excluded, and urgency of inner transformation. These themes shift listeners away from mere moralism toward love, justice, compassion. Growth happens when one takes these themes off the page and lives them - forgiving when hard, embracing the outsider, speaking truth, living generously. How can someone today embody the parables in everyday life rather than seeing them as ancient texts only? According to St Lucia Spirituality , embodying parables means treating stories as invitations: forgive someone who hurt you, show kindness to those nobody sees, take risks of compassion, question cultural norms, serve quietly, speak truth even if unpopular. It also means letting the stories shape your imagination - what you fear, what you hope, what you call holy. Over time faith becomes less about belief alone and more about living parabolic presence in the world. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - Robert Van Mourik Robert, a co-founder and guiding presence within St Lucia Spirituality, brings a wealth of insight and dedication to our community. While his roots lie in the Catholic tradition, Robert's spiritual journey has been one of profound inquiry and introspection, spanning many decades in search of what he terms "a coherent worldview." Drawing inspiration from luminaries such as Anthony de Mello, Richard Rohr, Diarmuid O’Murchu, and Ilia Delio, Robert's quest for spiritual truth has been shaped by the wisdom gleaned from countless authors and mentors. Their insights have served as guiding beacons, illuminating the path towards deeper understanding and connection. It was in the shared bond of seeking spiritual growth that Robert first crossed paths with John, their encounters over coffee in 2012 marking the genesis of a transformative journey. These intimate gatherings, fuelled by conversations on influential books and the evolving landscape of their perspectives, soon blossomed into vibrant small groups and virtual meetings on platforms like Zoom. Through newsletters, discussion papers, and a shared commitment to fostering meaningful dialogue, Robert has played an instrumental role in nurturing the thriving community of seekers within St Lucia Spirituality. His dedication to facilitating growth, exploration, and connection reflects the essence of the community's ethos - a journey of discovery and transformation, embarked upon together. Footnotes: 1 Pagola, Jesus: An Historical Approximation, 99-100 2 ibid, 123 3 ibid, 128 4 Meister Eckhart, Wrestling with the Prophets, Matthew Fox 5 See O’Murchu’s video “The Wisdom of the Parables” 6 Sean Freyne, The Jesus Movement and Its Expansion: Meaning and Mission, 2014, 161 7 Diarmuid O’Murchu, When the Disciple Comes of Age, 133-4 8 For a fuller discussion see also, 137-13 9 O’Murchu, ibid, 136 10 O’Murchu, ibid, 132 11 Amy-Jill Levine, Short Stories of Jesus, 282 12 Pagola, ibid, 139 13 O’Murchu, ibid, 134-6 14 O’Murchu, ibid, 143 15 O’Murchu, ibid, 145 August 2023

"I am happy because I want nothing from anyone. I do not care about money. Decorations, titles, or distinctions mean nothing to me. I do not crave praise. I claim credit for nothing. A happy man is too satisfied with the present to dwell too much on the future." Albert Einstein   Introduction - Detachment In Episode 6 of the Butterfly Series [1] , we focused on Cleaning Up. That involves taking a “helicopter view” of one’s life, identifying behaviours or habits that are inconsistent with Jesus’s teaching and resolving to diminish or completely detach from those behaviours or habits in the future. Richard Rohr relates Cleaning up to shadow work. “Your shadow is what you refuse to see about yourself and what you do not want others to see. The more you have cultivated and protected a chosen persona, the more shadow work you will need to do.” [2]   Gospel accounts show us that Jesus himself lived a contemplative and prayerful life. He often ventured out alone, sometimes being in prayer through the night. These prayer sessions acted as a period of recovery from the ordinary stresses of his day. His example shows us that we need to continually pause to let go (what scholars call kenosis or emptying) of egoic attachments, fear, judgment, or expectations and then a return to the Divine Presence again and again.   The Desert Fathers and Mothers yearned for complete union with God. They sought to remove all obstacles to the deepening of their relationship with God. Obstacles included unhelpful attitudes and motives, thoughts that stalled their pursuit of God, and emotional ties that complicated their inner journey. Although the journey began with giving away possessions, desert ascetics understood that what possessed them was greater than the sum of goods owned. All that owned them, all that possessed their minds and hearts, their attachments, and compulsions, must be healed and reconciled. Desert ascetics called this process of moving toward inner freedom detachment. Detachment allows for greater direct experience of the Divine Presence as the seeker is attached to fewer distractions. [3]   Reverend Barbara Holmes describes our common modern experience this way: “Unfortunately, in the West, we don’t let go of anything. We hold onto reputation and material goods long after they are no longer needed. We store acquired stuff in every nook and household cranny before renting a storage unit so that we can continue to hold onto our stuff. Dazed, we clutch at relationships long after they are on life support and cling to a past that no longer exists, grasping, desperate, and confused.” [4]   Detachment expands your self-awareness and supports your ability to see in a new way. It helps to remove the unnecessary or unimportant, leaving room for the new and important to emerge and grow. It draws us nearer to the source of all being.   Spirituality is about letting go. Instead, we have made it about taking in, attaining, performing, winning, and succeeding. True spirituality echoes the paradox of life itself. It trains us in both detachment and attachment: detachment from the passing so we can attach to the substantial. But if we do not acquire good training in detachment, we may attach to the wrong things, especially our own self-image and its desire for security. [5]   Detach from ego In his seminal book, “Falling Upwards: a Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life”, Richard Rohr explains about the focus in the first half of life on the false self, driven by ego. However, this is a necessary stage in human development as we focus on identity, career and family. Rohr was influenced by the Cistercian monk, Thomas Merton. Reverend Mandy Smith observes: “Thomas Merton used the language of the false self to describe our ‘shadow’, which are those parts we try to hide from others (and even ourselves) and our ‘disguise’, the alternate persona we try to show to the world instead. This is helpful language because it reminds us that whatever God calls us to let die is not our actual self but our false self (even though these false selves have been ours so long that at first it seems he is asking us to let our true selves die). Merton’s language helps us discover a different way to understand what should die and what should live.” [6]   Our challenge then is to take the time, periodically or even regularly, to do some healthy self-analysis, push our ego and false self to the side, and focus on the “other”. The more we do this, the closer we will draw to the Spirit of Being and the more joyful our life will become.   Detach from things Our consumerist society encourages a tendency towards accumulation of material things, some necessary, some aesthetically pleasing, some peripheral and some totally unnecessary for a Christian life. Possession gives us control; control provides perceived certainty and security. Advertising uses psychologically clever means to attract our attention and feed the impulse to purchase. Just look around your house and count the number of items that you wouldn’t miss if they were instantly removed.   Angel Kyodo Williams comments: “None of us escapes desire, and we don’t want to escape. That is not the point. We would just like to stop holding on to them for dear life. We want to see them for what they are. They are cravings. They are desires. They do not own us. They do not need to force us in every possible direction, contorting our bodies to chase down the next thing. I won’t be captive to my desires, helpless in their power. More important, I won’t make myself miserable because of my attachment to my wants.” [7]   Edward Beck suggests that the more we give away, the more we gain. He writes: “Detachment requires a non-grasping stance toward life – to be able to behold and revere without having to possess. But how hard that is. In our insecurity and neediness, we think attachment secures our happiness. We want what is ours and we want it totally and completely. But paradoxically, sharing produces its own abundance in a magnanimity of spirit that trumps anything our hands can hold. In the end, we have more.” [8]   There are simple measures one can take to detach from things. Sort through your clothes and donate to charity those that you never or rarely wear. Find items in your kitchen that might be more useful for others. Search your garage or storage facility for items that are no longer needed. Harder still is to relinquish those cherished items of clothing, artworks or knickknacks that are special to you. Don’t give in immediately to the impulse to purchase an advertised item. As a friend once told me, “Go home, take two aspirin, lie down and wait for the feeling to pass”.   Detach from habits More difficult than material things is detaching from habits. These have often developed over many years and are part of your persona. One way to identify your habits is to examine where you spend significant amounts of your time. To illustrate this, I will provide a personal example. For many years, I would follow the movements of the stock-market closely, making regular purchases and sales of stocks to maximise my portfolio value. I purchased trading software and could spend up to 2 hours a day reading price charts and analysing company performance. I justified this as simply part of providing for my family. Through self-analysis, I came to realise that my true motivations were greed and the pride associated with “beating the market”. I handed my portfolio over to a stockbroker but continue to watch the markets and discuss various companies with him. It took me 3 to 4 years after my initial move to fully detach from my stock-market obsession.   The words of Krishna to Arjuna in the Hindu classic scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita, seem relevant here: “Never lose sight of the overriding goal, which is to free yourself from bondage during this lifetime, to shed attachment to worldly things, detach from ego, and truly release yourself from the wheel of birth and death. When you do this, you actually become one with God.” [9]   Detach from relationships Equally important is that we detach from our personal relationships. If our goal is to possess a person, we only view them in terms of what they can do for us. Detachment, on the other hand, becomes a way of holding people with open hands, not strangling them. We give them permission to grow, flourish and become their best selves.   We can recall Jesus’s instruction to Mary Magdalene outside the tomb: “stop holding onto me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father” [10]   Detach from emotions Our lives are full of emotions, such as sorrow, joy, anger, and despair. They are temporary. They arise and fall away. Meister Eckhart counsels that we should not cling to emotions, as they do not define our ongoing nature, our true self. Rather, we should accept that they arise, recognise them as temporary and let them go. By way of example, Edward Beck recounts the story of two celibate monks on pilgrimage together: “As they approach a raging river, they see a beautiful, distressed young woman standing on the bank, afraid to make the crossing. The younger monk picks the woman up, puts her on his shoulders, and wades into the river as the older monk looks on, horrified but saying nothing. When the three reach the other side, the monk puts the grateful woman down safely, and the two monks continue their journey in silence. Hours go by without the two speaking. The older monk is obviously angry and upset. He finally looks at the younger monk and says, “How could you have done that?” “Done what?” says the other monk, surprised. “How could you have carried that woman? You know we are to have nothing to do with women and yet you intimately carried her on your shoulders.” “My dear brother,” replies the monk, “I set that woman down on the shore of the river hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?” [11]   Detach from outcomes Meister Eckhart also spoke in his sermons about detaching from outcomes. He counseled that we should put our energy into performing our duties as well as possible, but understand that we are not in control, and we can’t know the outcome of our efforts. Quite often, we may never know the consequences of our actions. Every time we catch ourselves getting reactive, every time we catch ourselves acting as if the outcome of the situation has the authority to name who we are, we are to take a deep breath and remind ourselves that it’s not true.   Conclusion In conclusion, part of our spiritual journey involves prayer, honest reflection and self-assessment, and a willingness to take action to detach from anything that prevents us from coming closer to God. Christian detachment does not mean holding back from being really involved in this world. Rather, it is a matter of being attached to people and to things in such a way that we are willing to let them go when we are called by God to do so. Fr Michael Fallon writes: “As John of the Cross notes in the Ascent of Mount Carmel (I.2.4), it makes little difference whether the leg of a bird is tied with a strong rope or with the tiniest thread. If anything is holding it, it cannot fly. Flight to God cannot occur till all attachments that cause us to resist the call of grace are broken, however apparently insignificant they may appear.” [12]   Finally, I would like to share this poem, “The Only Prayer”, by Lucy Grace: “There is a flow to life that we must follow, a place where the mystical meets the mundane, the profound collides with the profane, where every butterfly’s wing points the same way. And we can read the runes, pull another card, cry our lives all we like, hoping for a different roll of the same dice. But we do know, we know grace’s whisper, beckoning us on journeys we wouldn’t choose, breathing us things we would rather unknow. And so we will go, dancing or dragged, every day the same prayer. Take these hands, this heart, these lips for your work, your words, I am wholly yours. And yet still I can grieve the things I’m asked to release. I suppose then there’s only one prayer I ever need to know, and that is please, show me how to let go.” [13]   Questions for reflection 1. Have you ever detached from “creature comforts” for an extended period? What was the result?   2. What has been the most difficult aspect of detaching from relationships?   3. How does detachment aid your relationship to God?   Additional reading Fr Richard Rohr, CAC week of meditations, 23-29 Apr 2023 FAQs Detachment What is detachment according to John Scoble in Detachment? St Lucia Spirituality explains detachment as learning to release our grip on egoic attachments - desire for praise, control, material things or fixed identity. It involves the discipline of shadow work (following Richard Rohr’s teachings), where you face what you hide, what you cling to, and gradually surrender these so the Divine presence shines through without obstruction. How do Jesus, the Desert Fathers and Mothers model detachment in Christian tradition? The article notes that Jesus often withdrew in prayer alone, especially in wilderness settings, showing that detachment is not about abandoning the world but resetting inner connection. The Desert Fathers and Mothers removed themselves from society’s distractions - possessions, emotional entanglements, status - so that fewer attachments would mean more room for clarity, compassion and a simpler union with God. Their practices still speak to modern seekers. What are the different kinds of attachments we are called to let go of? St Lucia Spirituality identifies several layers of attachment in Detachment : Emotional attachments (expectations, fear, judgement) Material and aesthetic attachments (desire for possessions, comfort, control) Habitual attachments (patterns or routines that feed ego or fear) Outcome attachments (needing certain results, approval, or success)Releasing these is not about loss - it’s about freedom. What practical steps does the article suggest for cultivating detachment in daily life? According to St Lucia Spirituality , some practices include: pausing regularly for reflection, noticing desires without acting on them, decluttering unused items, practicing generosity, silent prayer or contemplation, and observing where emotions rise and fade. It might also include giving items away, simplifying one’s schedule, or detaching from toxic relationship patterns. Each little letting go shifts the heart more than material change. How does detachment relate to spiritual maturity, inner peace and clarity? The article argues that detachment is foundational for spiritual growth. When attachments loosen, anxiety about performance, identity, or outcomes decreases. Peace arises not because life gets easier but because the inner space is cleared of what no longer serves. As attachments drop away, clarity increases - one sees what matters, one lives more freely, one opens to deeper presence. This is how detachment becomes a gateway to joy. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him. Appendex 1 See “Pre-reading for Ep 6 Cleaning up 2022-01” on the SLSG Facebook page. 2 Fr Richard Rohr, Falling Upwards pp 127-128 3 Laura Swan, The Forgotten Desert Mothers: Sayings, Lives, and Stories of Early Christian Women, pp.21–22, 25. 4 Reverend Barbara Holmes, CAC Meditations 4 May 2023 5 CAC Meditations 23 Apr 2023 6 Reverend Mandy Smith, “Unfettered”, p.71 7 Angel Kyodo Williams, “Being Black: Zen and the Art of Living with Fearlessness and Grace" p.71, 72 8 Edward L Beck “Soul Provider” p.18 9 The Bhagavad-Gita, p.21 10 Jn 20:17 11 Edward L Beck, “Soul Provider, p.20 12 Fr Michael Fallon MSC, “The Gospel According to Saint Luke”, p.253 13 Lucy Grace, spoken during interview on Buddha at the Gas Pump, 7 July 2023 September 2023

Faith is not settled belief but a living process. The claim of absolute truth is the greatest single obstruction to theological honesty. Catherine Keller [1]   Introduction - From Co-dependency to an Adult Faith Co-dependency exists and has been fostered by the church. It denies the inherent wisdom each of us has and impacts our spiritual growth. If we are to develop an enriched adult faith, we need to move away from co-dependency to personal responsibility for faith in action. Yet we may be unaware that we might be in a co-dependent relationship. In the introduction to his book, When the Disciple Comes of Age, Diarmuid O’Murchu writes “Our inherited patriarchal certainties, and the accompanying power games – along with the co-dependency that they instil in believers – seem to be lying in ruins. The evolutionary context of the twenty-first century requires something very different.” [2]  O’Murchu asserts the need to develop an adult faith if we are to evolve and grow. Co-dependency occurs when one places an excessive reliance on another at the expense of their own mature development. The difficulty with co-dependent relationships is that they are not apparent. In the context of church and religion, co-dependent relationships can be unwittingly accepted as normal, but this is unhealthy. Ilia Delio describes in a recent article a problematic co-dependent relationship with God: “we have imagined and created a powerful divine Being, whose name is “God,” who lives in heaven and watches over us.  We built churches and composed prayers to a God who reigns almighty, from above, a God who is all-powerful and all-knowing; a God who protects the faithful and judges the fallen. The quicker we can dispel this mythic God, however, the greater the chance of discovering the real God. The problem is, in this crazy and chaotic world, we  want  a God who is like Zeus, detached from the weakness of matter but in control of life’s events. There are movements today in the Catholic Church to return to the Tridentine (Latin Mass), to restore the church to its glorious reign, as if the Middle Ages were the best of all times; to worship a God who reigns above, like a King who has sent ‘his’ Son to save us from this fallen world.  This fabricated God--who has nothing to do with Scripture and everything to do with our deep existential fear of nothingness--is the root of our environmental disaster, our inability to cope with artificial intelligence, our exclusion of LGBTQ persons, the persistence of racial inequality and the lack of hope in the world’s future.” [3] An Adult Faith O’Murchu describes adult faith as “coming of age”. He proposes that in the Christian faith Jesus fulfils an archetypal role. “In Jesus is embodied a unique integration of the human as earthly, yet poised for a process of transformation that converts the merely human into a more radiant expression of being fully alive.” “In adopting this archetypal portrayal, I am suggesting that the inherited distinction between the humanity and divinity of Jesus is so overloaded with cultural and ideological baggage that it is no longer capable of delivering the maturity that comes with age. Because we get so ensnared in so many tropes related to power, domination, imperialism, and so on, we run the risk of bypassing the profound wisdom that can be so liberating and empowering.”  And a little later, “More daunting still is the growing realisation that we have saddled the historical Jesus with several patriarchal projections that have distorted as well as undermined his liberating and empowering message.” [4] As a personal reflection, O’Murchu observes in his own coming of age, the significance of the phrase from the Sermon on the Mount: ” ‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God and its righteousness, and all these things will be added to you as well’ (Matt. 6:33). These days there is little I take at face value, but this Matthean verse feels like a primordial truth. A starting point in our Christian story has been compromised. Throughout several centuries we have not given first place to the kingdom of God: instead, a lot of other imperial values (and systems) have taken priority.” [5] Our July 2023 newsletter, reporting on our Episode 20 discussion paper Why did Jesus Die?,  explained: “Consequently, looking to the example set by Jesus, Spong reframes the Christian message, that there is nothing that we can ever do or ever be that will separate us from the love of God. Jesus’s message is about love, enhancing humanity, not dragging us down, denigrating us. God is not a noun but a verb that must be lived. If God is the source of life, then we must live fully, love wastefully, extravagantly, and be all that we are capable of being and help others to do the same. Embracing this understanding leads to changes in our behaviour, the language of our worship and our expectations of our religious institutions. Our language and outlook could be more joyful and life affirming.” This is another way to comprehend the kingdom of God, otherwise expressed as mercy, compassion and justice for all. Meeting these expectations requires an adult faith. If we are to develop an adult faith, we must understand church history and how these co-dependent relationships have evolved. Clerical Culture & Devotionalism In Episode 12 of the Butterfly Series, the discussion paper [6]  discussed the early recording of Christian thought: “In the first two to three centuries the early church developed as a plurality of communities with different emphases and with sacred texts having a history of oral transmission before being reduced to writing. Constantine’s initiatives led to Athanasius (c. 296-373) editing and consolidating these sacred texts as the bible, resulting in some texts being discarded. In the early years there were many Christianities e.g., wisdom, healing and matriarchal. This diversity of thought was lost in the drive to organisational control, codification as canon and the elimination of heresies. Unity and diversity lost out in the drive to uniformity.” [7] Despite the desire of fundamentalists to believe that the Bible is inerrant, the reality is that theological beliefs and dogma have evolved over time. For example, as previously discussed [8] , the doctrine of original sin was formulated by Augustine in the fifth century, presenting a negative archetype of humankind. In the eleventh century, Atonement Theory was developed relying on this doctrine of original sin. O’Murchu writes: “The legacy of Constantine also endorsed the rationalistic anthropology of Aristotle which, when combined with Constantine’s addiction to power, left Christians with a systemic codependency that prevailed into the 20th Century. Alluding to that parent-child codependency that prevents adults coming of age.” [9] Nevertheless, O’Murchu writes: “The historical research of Brock and Parker (2008) highlights the fact that a spirituality of paradise on earth, rather than a life hereafter, prevailed right into the eleventh century; even the martyrs associated with the Roman catacombs envisaged their death as a contribution to a better world in the here and now, rather than an escape to a life hereafter. An empowering faith in the Risen Christ, rather than a devotion of atonement, seems to have dominated the first Christian millennium. This complex foundational picture marked a spiritual coming of age, which subsequent Christian history has poorly understood. Ecclesiastical power and domination persistently blinker our vision and distort the true story." However, the times marked significant changes and ill-founded practices resulting in the reformation by Protestant churches, provoking a defensive institutional response, a counter-reformation: Clerical power became a major issue at the Council of Trent (1545-1563) which put in place a robust system of structure and regulation to safeguard the one and only truth, which the Catholic Church alone could deliver. To that end it created a superior person in charge, who is best described by four key words: Male, White, Celibate, Cleric - a clerical elite in which even the privileged clerical few cannot come of age, because they are ensconced in an idolatrous and tyrannical regime. Everybody ends up in co-dependent, dysfunctional relationships. Those holding the power – the male, white, celibate clerics – enforced their power chiefly by perpetuating a form of devotionalism that kept people feeling unworthy, obedient, and passive. Almost inevitably people began to internalise a tyrannical, demanding God that could never be satisfied, a God that would never give the graces necessary for salvation unless we bombarded him day and night…. Requiring repetitive prayers, rituals, exaggerated use of statues and holy pictures, and frequent attendance at church services. In this way, people were kept in perpetual childish immaturity, embracing a faith with little or no sense of adult growth and development.” [10] Why this is Important At the risk of being overly simplistic, if the Church is to accomplish its mission, it could: Reframe the Christian story as described by Spong, above. The habits of devotion and rituals, described above by O’Murchu, along with many beliefs, become difficult to justify when viewed through an independent, adult lens. Reduce the influence of clericalism and its associated power and encourage and affirm the value and wisdom of the people, reflected in the notion of sensus fidelium/fidei,  as discussed below. Encourage those members of the Church who are not clerics, to step up and accept their own responsibility to be proactive, to contribute to the church’s mission and to pursue their own spiritual growth.  . It can be argued that the church has trained people to be co-dependent, reflected in a model of church known as “pay, pray and obey.” The growth of clericalism and the framing of doctrines such as original sin and atonement theory, for example, have created for clergy a business of sin management, as described by Richard Rohr [11] . It has also resulted in many living their lives in fear of eternal damnation, in part due to a failure to “obey the rules”. The Art of Consensus-Making Notwithstanding this history of clerical culture and devotionalism, the art of consensus-making, involving collaborative decision making rather than adversarial debate, is more likely to accomplish the objectives of mission. This will result in better decisions, better group relationships and better implementation of decisions. This reflective process echoes the earlier notion of sensus fidelium/fidei . In a footnote, O’Murchu references this notion: “For several contemporary theologians, the notion of sensus fidelium/fidei  is linked with the vision of the Second Vatican Council (1962-65). Before the nineteenth century, sensus fidelium appeared in texts on theological sources, but the concept was not employed commonly in theology. The authoritative source usually cited is that of Melchior Cano’s (d. 1560)  De Locis Theologicis.  Cano lists four criteria to establish whether a doctrine or practice belonged to apostolic tradition of the Church, including the “present common sense of the faithful” as one of the four criteria. Renowned Dominican scholar Yves Congar claims that since the early eighteenth century, the teaching authority of the Church claimed a monopoly of truth that progressively undermined the notion of the sensus fidelium/fidei, and Vatican II’s definition of the Church as “The People of God” has initiated a corrective to this virtual marginalisation of the “faithful”.   [12] Instrumentum Laboris (Working Document) [13] For the Catholic church, a new document issued by the Vatican in June 2023 , Instrumentum Laboris (Working Document) , sets out an operating model for a synodal church, potentially the most significant initiative by the church since Vatican II. It represents entirely new ways of thinking about how things are done throughout all levels of the church from its cardinals through to parishes. It also reflects the diversity of the worldwide church. It includes references to: A focus on local Churches considering their variety and diversity of cultures, languages, and modes of expression. A Church that is also increasingly synodal in its institutions, structures, and procedures. A synodal Church is a listening Church. A synodal Church desires to be humble and knows that it must ask forgiveness and has much to learn. This Church is not afraid of the variety it bears but values it without forcing it into uniformity. Characteristic of a synodal Church is the ability to manage tensions without being crushed by them. A synodal Church is also a Church of discernment. Synodal life is not a strategy for organising the Church, but the experience of being able to find a unity that embraces diversity without erasing it. The need to renew the language used by the Church: in its liturgy, preaching, catechesis, sacred art, as well as in all forms of communication addressed to the Faithful and the wider public. This is language entirely removed from the development of the church after the Council of Trent. Implementing this working document and following its practices could result in an entirely new church, in which the laity can have an important role, especially in the light of diminishing numbers of clergy. It would give new meaning to the sense of the faithful. The Many Colours of Spirit A maturing adult faith implies spiritual growth just as there are differing states of physical or emotional development. These states can be likened to coloured segments on a pie chart with each segment necessary to complete the whole. Ken Wilber is known for his model of spiritual development: “Here is another, particularly crucial, set of distinctions. Every altitude of consciousness will interpret Spirit differently. If we use the five major worldviews—Magic, Mythic, Rational, Pluralistic, and Integral—then we also have five very different “Gods,” five levels of Spirit. Surveys consistently report that an overwhelming majority of people say they believe in God. But which colour god? Believing in a magic Magenta god is light years away from a pluralistic Green god, which is radically distinct from an Integral Turquoise divinity. Many spiritual/ religious conflicts spring from this exact issue. The debating (and sometimes warring) parties talk past each other because they’re each referring to different altitudes of Spirit. How do attitudes of spiritual awareness show up in real life? Here is one example among many of how different levels, different interpretations of Spirit, can show up among Christians. Magenta/ Red Magic God: This level sees Jesus as a Magician, turning water in wine, multiplying loaves and fishes, walking on water, and so on. Jesus is experienced as a magical person who can miraculously alter the world. This stage is preconventional and egocentric. This Jesus is of interest because he can answer my prayers, meet my needs, and offer me blessings. Amber Mythic God: This level sees Jesus as the Messiah, the Eternal Truth-bringer. This stage is absolutistic in its beliefs, so I must either believe and obey scripture as it is given or face damnation. This stage is also ethnocentric, so I am allied not just to God but also to my fellow religious believers. We are united against the heathens who resist and oppose our true faith. Only those who believe in Jesus Christ as their personal saviour will be saved. This is, by far, the most prevalent level of spiritual consciousness, sometimes slightly altered as it begins to evolve toward Orange.   Orange Rational God: This level sees the Jesus of Nazareth, still fully divine but also fully human, in a more rationally believable way, as a teacher of the universal love of a deistic God. In relation to this God, I am free. I am able to exercise reason and personal responsibility. I care for myself and for my tribe and country, but I also care for all people. I can find a good, true, and blessed life through Christ Jesus in my way with other Christians, but I allow that others might also find a valid spirituality through different forms of worship.   Green Pluralistic God: This level sees the Christ consciousness that exists within me and within all beings. I endeavour to discover and respect the divinity in myself and in all people. I deconstruct and reinterpret Biblical passages to speak to me in more universal terms and to champion issues such as ecological sustainability, social justice, fair distribution of wealth, nonviolence, and women’s rights. I recognize the full validity of a wide diversity of spiritual paths. Christianity is merely one path among many—none better or worse than another.   Teal/ Turquoise Integral God (toward Indigo Super-Integral): This level sees that the universal Christ consciousness can be found everywhere, in everyone, and in every perspective. Whereas the Green, Orange, and Amber-Red-Magenta Christians don’t get along very well with each other, I find much in common with each and all of them, and I appreciate and resonate with the special strengths of each. For me, God is obvious and universal, present everywhere in every form.” [14] Those who remain in a co-dependent relationship with the church and the clergy will mostly be relating to a Magic or Mythic God. This is the God of the Old Testament. He is also the God of the Nicene Creed, written in CE 325, which has the Father sitting on a throne in heaven and the Son ascending to sit at his right-hand side. It is also a God that is born of unrealistic expectations, which includes intervention in worldly affairs in response to prayer. Christian human consciousness needs to evolve beyond this image of God. However, it is also important to understand that it is necessary to grow through these various levels, Rohr writes: “When I speak about the failings and limitations of the church and low level religion, I hope you know I am not throwing out the important beginning stages of structure and obedience. They have a relative importance as scaffolding, but they are not the building itself. We don’t need to continue protecting the scaffolding once it’s served its purpose. But we still honour and respect it. In the first half of life, our task is to build a container. Eventually we realise that life isn’t primarily about the container but the contents. As Jesus said, wineskins are for the sake of holding the wine (Luke 5:37-39), not for the sake of themselves. It doesn’t serve us to argue about whose wineskins are best. If they hold the precious contents, they are good!” [15] This concept is known as transcend and include. Conclusion Jesus spoke frequently about the kingdom of God, a concept that denotes a life of mercy, compassion, and justice for all. Seeking this kingdom was his priority and the Christian church that follows him must have this as its primary objective. That is its mission. It requires acknowledging God as the source of life, that we must live fully, love wastefully, extravagantly, and be all that we are capable of being and help others to do the same. However, the early Christians, like Jesus, were radically counter-cultural and not what the church became. Its early impetus was lost to alignment with state power and the growth of church bureaucracies. These structures sought their own power, creating divisions and excluding the other - such as women and minorities - contrary to the very message Jesus sought to promote. The resulting growth in clericalism created a co-dependent laity whose own wisdom was diminished. The Christian story could be reframed and aligned with Jesus’s vision for the kingdom of God, a society offering mercy, compassion and justice for all and the fullest realisation of human potential. Our growth in understanding in many fields, such as psychology and quantum physics, helps us conceive new ways in which we can imagine “God” at work. This knowledge and our growth spiritually invite us to reconsider our views on our responsibility for the environment, distribution of wealth, the merits of unbridled capitalism and other beliefs we now take for granted. How do we, as individuals and Christian communities, respond to these signs of the times? We can reflect on the reality of codependency and ask ourselves how we might grow to exhibit an adult faith. We can reflect on clericalism and reimagine the role of the laity within our community. We can respond to the call of Pope Francis for a more synodal church in pursuit of its mission.  We can ask ourselves: “if Jesus was in Australia right now, what would he do? Expect of us?” Questions for Reflection Can you recall a time when you had a co-dependent relationship challenge? - Has this changed? - When did it change and why?  Referring to Wilbur’s five major world views, which colour describes your view of God? - What colour would you like to be?   FAQs From Co-dependency to an Adult Faith What is co-dependency in a church context and why is it problematic? St Lucia Spirituality explains that co-dependency shows up when believers rely excessively on clergy, doctrine or tradition rather than their own capacity for spiritual discernment. This hurts growth because it keeps people passive, afraid to ask questions, or feeling spiritually infantilised. Robert van Mourik draws on Diarmuid O’Murchu’s work to show that many Christian practices still maintain co-dependency despite calls for maturity in faith. What does “adult faith” mean according to the article? In From Co-dependency to an Adult Faith , St Lucia Spirituality describes adult faith as a process of growing up spiritually: taking responsibility for one’s beliefs, engaging critically with inherited doctrines, and living faith that acts rather than just repeats. O’Murchu describes this as “coming of age” spiritually - where faith is alive, flexible, honest, and rooted in compassion rather than control. How have historical church structures fostered co-dependency? St Lucia Spirituality points out that institutional religion developed power hierarchies, clerical elites, and devotional mandates (prayer, ritual, obedience) that positioned people as subjects rather than co-creators of faith. The article traces this back through the history of canon formation, the influence of Constantine, and doctrines crafted under patriarchal and imperial pressures. These systems shaped dependency on external authority instead of promoting internal spiritual maturity. What are some signs that a person or community is stuck in co-dependency rather than growing an adult faith? According to St Lucia Spirituality , signs include rigid belief without questioning, fear of change or doubt, reliance on leaders for all spiritual insight, lack of personal responsibility for spiritual practices, and spiritual passivity. Communities that resist dialogue, suppress dissent, or punish authenticity are often held in a co-dependent pattern. Recognising these signs is the first step toward cultivating adult faith. What practical steps can someone take to move from co-dependency to adult faith? St Lucia Spirituality suggests actionable shifts: begin by questioning inherited assumptions, engage in spiritual practices like contemplative prayer or reading outside your tradition, take responsibility for your growth (e.g. own your doubts, explore theology), and participate in communities that value participation rather than hierarchy. Also, supporting synodal or listening models in church institutions helps restructure power towards more inclusive, mature faith. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - Robert Van Mourik Robert, a co-founder and guiding presence within St Lucia Spirituality, brings a wealth of insight and dedication to our community. While his roots lie in the Catholic tradition, Robert's spiritual journey has been one of profound inquiry and introspection, spanning many decades in search of what he terms "a coherent worldview." Drawing inspiration from luminaries such as Anthony de Mello, Richard Rohr, Diarmuid O’Murchu, and Ilia Delio, Robert's quest for spiritual truth has been shaped by the wisdom gleaned from countless authors and mentors. Their insights have served as guiding beacons, illuminating the path towards deeper understanding and connection. It was in the shared bond of seeking spiritual growth that Robert first crossed paths with John, their encounters over coffee in 2012 marking the genesis of a transformative journey. These intimate gatherings, fuelled by conversations on influential books and the evolving landscape of their perspectives, soon blossomed into vibrant small groups and virtual meetings on platforms like Zoom. Through newsletters, discussion papers, and a shared commitment to fostering meaningful dialogue, Robert has played an instrumental role in nurturing the thriving community of seekers within St Lucia Spirituality. His dedication to facilitating growth, exploration, and connection reflects the essence of the community's ethos - a journey of discovery and transformation, embarked upon together. Appendex [1] Diarmuid O’Murchu, When the Disciple Comes of Age, 57 [2] ibid, vi [3] Rebirthing Religion [4] Diarmuid O’Murchu, When the Disciple Comes of Age, 54-56 [5]  Ibid 59 [6] Historical Influences on Christian Beliefs, Robert van Mourik, Butterfly Series #12, September 2022, 3 [7]   Cynthia Bourgeault (RvM Wisdom School notes), February 2023 [8]  Original Sin or Blessing, Robert van Mourik, Butterfly Series #17, April 2023 [9]  Diarmuid O’Murchu, When the Disciple Comes of Age, 58 [10] Diarmuid O’Murchu, When the Disciple Comes of Age, 67-70 [11] Participatory Morality, Rohr Daily Meditation 9 Sept 2021 [12] Diarmuid O’Murchu, When the Disciple Comes of Age, 25-26 [13] Follow link here [14] Integral Life Practice: A 21st-Century Blueprint for Physical Health, Emotional Balance, Mental Clarity, and Spiritual Awakening by Ken Wilber, Terry Patten, et al [15] Rohr Meditation, Transcend & Include, 7 December 2016   November 2023

Ecology is a huge subject. Many writers have written books on the subject, including Pope Francis, so it is somewhat daunting to prepare a brief discussion paper on the subject and relate it effectively to spirituality. Much local news about climate change, international efforts to counteract global warming and prophecies of doom for mankind approach the subject from the global perspective. We are slowly discovering what indigenous peoples have known for millennia – we humans are not the centre of the universe. However, that is a topic for another day.  In this paper, I want to focus on the relationship between the individual and nature. When was the last time you sat in a park and did nothing but observe what was going on around you? I credit Richard Rohr with shifting my perspective on nature and spirituality. He was the first person I read who described nature as God’s first Bible. He encouraged me to reflect on creation and evolution. He and the authors he quoted helped me to understand the inherent value in every animal, plant and, yes, even every inanimate object. And so, I sat in my local park recently. I was astounded at the speed of a butcher bird as it raced from tree to tree. I marvelled at the musical calls of different birds. I observed the industriousness of ants. I watched wispy clouds pass overhead and contemplated the amazing journey that water takes from ocean to cloud to rain to earth to river to ocean. I pondered the uniqueness of each tree. I noticed that trees of the same species have different heights, widths, colouring, branch structure etc. And then, in a moment of insight, I thought that humans were just like trees. We have different gender, sexual identity, DNA, personality and life experience. We are all unique and we all contribute to the rich tapestry of life. During April, Richard Rohr’s meditations ran a series on nature. I would like to share with you three extracts from these that help with reflection on nature and spirituality. Ecological theologian Thomas Berry (add years) suggests that the Western world has lost its connection with nature: “Many earlier peoples saw in these natural phenomena a world beyond ephemeral appearance, an abiding world, a world imaged forth in the wonders of the sun and clouds by day and the stars and planets by night, a world that enfolded the human in some profound manner. This other world was guardian, teacher, healer—the source from which humans were born, nourished, protected, guided, and the destiny to which we returned…. We have lost our connection to this other deeper reality of things. Consequently, we now find ourselves on a devastated continent where nothing is holy, nothing is sacred. We no longer have a world of inherent value, no world of wonder, no untouched, unspoiled, unused world. We think we have understood everything. But we have not. We have used everything. By “developing” the planet, we have been reducing Earth to a new type of barrenness. Scientists are telling us that we are in the midst of the sixth extinction period in Earth’s history. No such extinction of living forms has occurred since the extinction of the dinosaurs some sixty-five million years ago. To preserve this sacred world of our origins from destruction, our great need is for renewal of the entire Western religious-spiritual tradition…. We need to move from a spirituality of alienation from the natural world to a spirituality of intimacy with it, … to a spirituality of the divine as revealed in the visible world about us, from a spirituality concerned with justice simply to humans to a justice that includes the larger Earth community…. We cannot save ourselves without saving the world in which we live.… We will live or die as this world lives or dies. We can say this both physically and spiritually. We will be spiritually nourished by this world or we will be starved for spiritual nourishment. No other revelatory experience can do for the human what the experience of the natural world does.” [1]   Former US Environmental Protection Agency scientist Theresa Martella speaks about the influence Berry had on her life and the importance of contemplation in appreciating our deep connection to nature: "As a spiritual ecologist, I have been profoundly influenced by Eco theologian and Passionist priest Thomas Berry, also known as the father of ecological spirituality. Thomas taught me what I had always intuited; that spirit and matter are one. He once said, “We are in trouble just now because we do not have a good story. We are in between stories. The Old Story—the account of how the world came to be and how we fit into it—is not functioning properly, and we have not learned the New Story.” His call for a new story—one of nurturing a mutually enhancing relationship with the Earth—resonated deeply with me, naming our ecological crisis as a spiritual crisis. Contemplative wisdom soon became my compass, guiding me toward sustainability and simplicity in my own life. When I practice regularly, I can detach from my wants and desires and recognize my interconnectedness with all of life. The need for constant comparison and material accumulation passes as I recognize my desires as passing thoughts, not needs. My worries for the state of the planet recede, if only for a minute. My mind and soul rest. When we fully attend to Nature, we experience a spacious emptiness where we merge with something larger than ourselves. Nature becomes the healer, supporting radical resilience as we face an uncertain future with climate change. We realize we are of nature, not separate from it.” [2] Ecological theologian Tony Jones writes of his encounter with God in wild places and how venturing into wilderness puts him in touch with his true self: The God of wild places offers peace.  In a modern world that’s frenetic and busy—always connected, always on—finding peace is getting more difficult… To receive the peace offered by the God of wild places, we’ll have to retrograde to old technologies: canoe and paddle; hiking boots and walking stick; bow and arrow and fishing pole. We also have to remember that the peace we long for is within, a spark of the divine that resides within each of us. To bring that spark to a flame can be done indoors, but I have a lot more luck when I’m outdoors—and the wilder the place the better.    The God of wild places honors place. When we visit and revisit the wild places that are special to us, experiences of transcendence are waiting for us there… I’ve sung a hymn to my most special place, a few acres of northern forest sitting on the edge of a lake. Caretaking that land is a joy and a privilege, and it’s become clear to me that doing so is part of my vocation, my calling from God. These trees and this creek are my congregation to pastor as a shepherd cares for sheep—they were torn asunder by a tornado, as was I; they have regrown in scarred beauty, as have I…. These days I’m zealous in maintaining these woods, guarding and protecting them, doing what I can to keep them healthy and safe, safeguarding their peace.   The God of wild places has given us companions. We may be hurtling through space … but we’re not alone. We are interdependent on a whole fabric of creation, woven together with beings sentient and non-sentient, animate and inanimate…. I’ve stopped looking up to the sky for help and instead lowered my eyes to the companions around me. My dogs have been my most sacred non-human companions. [My friend] Seth talks to plants. No matter the species with which we commune, the key is keeping the whole web in view—seeing the forest and the trees, for God’s love pulses through the web. The God of wild places requires risk. We’ve done everything we can to mitigate risk to ourselves, an admirable trait that has ensured the propagation of our species…. On a neurological level, adventure facilitates deep learning. On a spiritual level, high-risk situations strip us bare and make us vulnerable. When my ego recedes, there’s more room for God. Attaining the next level of success requires taking a chance: climbing a bigger mountain, hiking a more challenging trail, riding a bigger wave…. Modern life tends to inoculate us against these risks, but the God of wild places peels away that safety and brings us back in touch with who we’re meant to be.” [3]       Questions for reflection: How often do you pause, commune in nature and simply observe the wonder of creation? What role does nature play in your spiritual journey? What can you do to develop a greater appreciation of the role of nature in your life? FAQs Nature and Spirituality Why is nature considered a pathway to spiritual awakening? According to St Lucia Spirituality , nature acts like a mirror—showing us impermanence, beauty, and connection without needing words. Wilderness, seasons, and natural rhythms offer reminders that life is larger than our worries. Studies in ecological psychology show that spending time in nature lowers cortisol (the stress hormone) and increases psychological wellbeing by up to 20-30 percent (Harvard Forest / 2020). This embodied awareness often becomes the spark for deeper spiritual growth. How does relating to nature reshape our values and sense of responsibility? St Lucia Spirituality suggests that when people attune to natural systems, they begin to see themselves not as separate observers but as participants. That shift tends to cultivate humility, wonder, and care. It often leads to ethical action - protecting ecosystems, reducing waste, honoring indigenous land stewardship - because a sacred earth is no longer just backdrop: it becomes teacher, partner, and home. Can nature be spiritual if someone is not religious? How does that work? Yes. St Lucia Spirituality notes that nature’s spiritual power doesn’t depend on doctrine or ritual. Someone can feel awe at sunrise, sense sacredness in a forest, or experience peace under stars, and those moments carry spiritual depth. In fact, recent polls show many people self-identifying as “spiritual but not religious” value nature highly - nature often becomes the default sanctuary, the place where mystery meets presence without theological framing. How do practices in nature support spiritual integration and healing? Per St Lucia Spirituality , practices like walking meditations, forest bathing, mindful gardening, or listening to natural sounds help decrease mental clutter and open presence. Reflection journaling in nature, practicing gratitude for land, or rituals aligned with natural cycles (full moon, seasons) can ground spiritual insights into daily life. These practices help bridge head and heart, trauma and healing, inner being and outer wildness. What role does indigenous spirituality play in framing nature as sacred rather than utilitarian? St Lucia Spirituality highlights that indigenous traditions often don’t separate sacred and utilitarian - they see land as ancestor, story, identity. Indigenous spiritual perspectives teach reciprocity: giving back, gratitude, caring for land as one cares for family. These teachings challenge modern exploitative mindsets and offer a path toward spiritual sustainability, intergenerational healing, and deeper belonging to the web of life. At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him. Appendex [1]  CAC Meditations 6 March 2024 [2] CAC “We Conspire” series, 25 April 2024 https://cac.org/news/living-simply-and-sustainably-in-aprils-we-conspire-series/     [3]  CAC Meditations 22 April 2024

In our August 2024 Butterfly Series meeting, we addressed the importance of consciousness in Spirituality. We examined the awareness encouraged by many spiritual luminaries throughout the ages and discussed ways in which we might cultivate an awareness of higher states of consciousness. In this episode, with the help of Franciscan priest Richard Rohr, we want to build on that foundation by examining four different worldviews. Rohr's Alternative Worldviews: A material worldview A spiritual worldview A priestly worldview An incarnational worldview As you read Richard’s reflection, think about your own worldview and how this may have changed in your life, and when and where. Richard writes [1] : “I have concluded that there are four basic worldviews, though they might be expressed in many ways and are not necessarily separate. Those who hold a material worldview believe that the outer, visible universe is the ultimate and “real” world. People of this worldview have given us science, engineering, medicine, and much of what we now call “civilization.” A material worldview tends to create highly consumer-oriented and competitive cultures, which are often preoccupied with scarcity, since material goods are always limited. A spiritual worldview characterizes many forms of religion and some idealistic philosophies that recognize the primacy and finality of spirit, consciousness, the invisible world behind all manifestations. This worldview is partially good too, because it maintains the reality of the spiritual world, which many materialists deny. But the spiritual worldview, taken to extremes, has little concern for the earth, the neighbor, or justice, because it considers this world largely as an illusion. Those holding what I call a priestly worldview are generally sophisticated, trained, and experienced people that feel their job is to help us put matter and Spirit together. The downside is that this view assumes that the two worlds are actually separate and need someone to bind them together again. In contrast to these three is an incarnational worldview, in which matter and Spirit are understood to have never been separate. Matter and Spirit reveal and manifest each other. This view relies more on awakening than joining, more on seeing than obeying, more on growth in consciousness and love than on clergy, experts, morality, scriptures, or prescribed rituals . In Christian history, we see an incarnational worldview most strongly in the early Eastern Fathers, Celtic spirituality, many mystics who combined prayer with intense social involvement, Franciscanism in general, many nature mystics, and contemporary eco-spirituality. Overall, a materialistic worldview is held in the technocratic world and areas its adherents colonize; a spiritual worldview is held by the whole spectrum of heady and esoteric people; and a priestly worldview is found in almost all of organized religion. An incarnational worldview grounds Christian holiness in objective and ontological reality instead of just moral behaviour. This is its big benefit. Yet, this is the important leap that so many people have not yet made. Those who have can feel as holy in a hospital bed or a tavern as in a chapel. They can see Christ in the disfigured and broken as much as in the so-called perfect or attractive. They can love and forgive themselves and all imperfect things, because all carry the Imago Dei equally, even if not perfectly. Incarnational Christ Consciousness will normally move toward direct social, practical, and immediate implications. It is never an abstraction or a theory. It is not a mere pleasing ideology. If it is truly incarnational Christianity, then it is always “hands-on” religion and not solely esotericism, belief systems, or priestly mediation.” Questions for reflection Do any of these worldviews describe your own current worldview? How has your worldview changed during your life? If a change has occurred, can you identify a catalyst or incident that shifted your worldview? What are the implications of Rohr’s preferred incarnational worldview for human behaviour? FAQs Rohr's Alternative Worldviews - Interpreting your Worldview What are the four worldviews described by Richard Rohr, and how do they differ? St Lucia Spirituality explains the material worldview sees only the physical as real - science, technology, scarcity, and visible outcomes dominate. The spiritual worldview values what is unseen - consciousness, spirit - but can neglect earth, neighbour, or justice. The priestly worldview tries to bridge material and spiritual, assuming they are separate and needing mediation. Finally, the incarnational worldview realises they were never separate - Spirit manifests through matter, and holiness is found in all places, not just sacred spaces. Why does Rohr favour the incarnational worldview for modern spirituality? According to St Lucia Spirituality , Rohr holds that the incarnational worldview offers a more grounded, compassionate, and holistic spiritual path. It moves beyond rigid doctrines or priestly mediation toward seeing holiness in everyday life - hospital beds, taverns, broken people, imperfect selves. This view is not just belief - it demands action, love, forgiveness, and recognition that every being bears the image of the Divine. How can knowing your own worldview help you grow spiritually and make better moral choices? St Lucia Spirituality suggests that knowing whether you tend toward material, spiritual, priestly, or incarnational seeing influences how you interpret life. If you lean heavily toward materialism, you might miss spiritual meaning. If you lean spiritual only, you may overlook neighbour or earth. Recognising your dominant worldview opens routes for growth - so you can balance seeing, engage compassionately, avoid binary traps, and allow your ethics to flow from awareness rather than fear or doctrine. What are practical steps to shift toward an incarnational worldview? Per St Lucia Spirituality , shifting seeing takes small and consistent choices. Engage in practices like: noticing and questioning your assumptions when you judge or dismiss others being present in nature and seeing beauty in brokenness loving imperfect people and forgiving yourself choosing compassion and justice over neat answersThese habits help shape incarnational consciousness. Rohr’s view is that faith maturity shows up in loving the world, not escaping from it. How do organized religion, spiritual philosophy, and modern culture map onto these worldviews? St Lucia Spirituality points out that many institutions lean toward the priestly worldview - emphasising leadership, rites, theology, and separation. Spiritual philosophy often leans toward the spiritual worldview - esoteric, idealistic but sometimes detached from earth or neighbour. Material worldview dominates in technocratic culture and consumerism. Incarnational worldview cuts across all - offering a way to integrate spirit, earth, ethics, and community. Recognising these patterns helps us see where culture shapes belief, often unconsciously, and invites us to choose a more awake, more whole path.   At St Lucia Spirituality we believe the journey is richer when it’s shared. If you’re seeking a place to explore questions, practice mindfulness, or simply belong to an inclusive spiritual community, we invite you to join us. From online discussion groups and meditation gatherings to our growing library of resources, there’s space here for every seeker. Step into the conversation, connect with others, and discover how community can nurture your spiritual growth. About the Author - John Scoble John's journey began in the heart of a traditional Roman Catholic family in Sydney, where he was raised with steadfast faith and reverence. Now residing in the serene surroundings of St Lucia, Brisbane, alongside his beloved wife, John finds solace and inspiration in the tranquil rhythms of life. With four adult children and a cherished grandchild also calling Brisbane home, John's family is his anchor, providing love, support, and a sense of belonging. While spirituality has always been a cornerstone of his life, it was three transformative events in 2012, including a sacred pilgrimage to the Holy Lands, that ignited a profound shift in John's spiritual trajectory. Embracing retirement as an opportunity for deeper exploration, John immersed himself in extensive reading and soulful reflection. Over the course of a decade, this journey of self-discovery has led John to reevaluate and transcend many of his traditional beliefs, embracing instead the timeless wisdom and cosmic perspective inherent in Christianity. Influenced by luminaries such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. Teresa of Avila, and Richard Rohr, John's spiritual evolution has been marked by a deepening resonance with the essential truths of his faith and a profound connection to the divine unfolding within and around him. [1] Richard Rohr, Center for Action and Contemplation, Daily Meditations, 20 December 2023