Heaven is not so far away…
Heaven is not so far away.
Last night, in the middle of the week we visited my wife’s parents in New Jersey. She took a plum from their refrigerator.
I smiled and said, “your mom was probably saving that for breakfast.”
“That’s ok…” But before her mom could say more my wife said said, “forgive me, they were delicious. So sweet and so cold.”
I smiled and held my hand over my heart, like I do when I’m touched.
Her mom looked confused.
My wife motioned with her hand, and said, “go ahead.”
“I can’t remember exactly how it goes…”
So she began, “I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox…”
“and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast…”
We finished together:
“Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.”
My wife and I were both smiling. Her mom still looked confused.
“It is?”
“Yes, it’s an American poem. They are different than the ones we grew up hearing in Haiti.”
“But what kind of poem is that?” her mom asked.
“Repeat the last words.”
“…so sweet and so cold.”
“You can picture it right?”
“Yes.”
Then her dad walked in the room and her mom said, “I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox…”
“That’s ok…”
“No, it’s a poem.”
“It is?”
“Yes.” And then she repeated the whole poem,
“I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
And which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold”
“What kind of poem is that?”
“You can picture it though right?”
“Yes.”
That’s the end of the story.
We started talking about something else. Everyone moved on. For me though, for the one who holds his hand over his heart, this moment of plums and poems stayed with me. It became a place of gratitude. The room had become a place of heaven. And within me, I made room for more joy and for a mystical experience.
One of my favorite stories about the Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung is told in his biography, Memories, Dreams, Reflections. In it he talks about physically constructing a house to match his dream world. His favorite feature of the house was a staircase that lead not to a place, a room or location; but was created as an access point to consciousness. He built the stairs so that in his waking moments, and in his dreams, he could find a new place to climb to see things.
It’s a weird story.
So is the one about the plums and the ice box.
I like them both.
To me this is how I grew up thinking about the spiritual life. Experiences create a trail to heaven. Heaven is not a reality far away, but near, like a house which can be built from stone.
If you grew up with William Carlos Williams poems and Carl Jung psychology; even if they aren’t the way you see the world, they’re probably not strange…maybe erudite or privileged, but on par with a kind of American protestant psychotherapeutic deism that Oprah, Tony Robbins, and Barnes and Noble make mainstream.
And if you didn’t they’re…
Hold that thought.
In the gospel of Mark chapter 13 as Jesus comes out of the temple, one of his disciples says to him, ‘Look teacher, what large stones and what large buildings.’ Jesus disciples have not grown up as Americans. They are not immersed in poetry or psychology. So when Jesus says, ‘Do you see these great buildings? No one stone will be left here upon another.’ They do not assume he is speaking allegorically. They assume he’s speaking at least as politically as he is religiously.
We know that the temple in Jerusalem functioned as the center of religious and social power. We also know that the first temple was destroyed and that the people of Judah were exiled for 600 long years. Without a place to worship their culture was passed on in stories and traditions; but it lacked a social center of power. When the temple was re-constructed people vowed never to be without a place of power again. So, they began to intertwine religious, social, and political life into one way of being—all taking place in the temple.
Which worked if you came from a family that practiced the traditions. This system worked if you came from a geographic place that was considered prosperous. This system worked if you had a job that allowed you to make money and trade.
The system did not work if you were poor; if you had a physical illness or infirmity; if you were a religious outsider.
To say it another way,
“I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox…”
Poetry works if you grew up hearing it. Educated things like, psychotherapeutic deism work if you grew up, if not educated, aspiring to a kind of middle-income Americanness that our parents assured us takes the edge off of any kind of difficulty that can be experienced in the United States like, race, gender, class, geographic accents.
“you were probably
saving them
for breakfast…”
We cannot help but read our religious tradition through our social experience. Which is why most of my progressive protestant preacher colleagues spend so much time critiquing American systems. They leave a lot of people out; undocumented immigrants, non-English speakers, the poor, queer people, those who are not Christian. Ministers who offer explicit welcome to these communities or strong critique to places of power are not wrong to see that the modern United States has based much of its identity on religious tradition.
“Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold”
But…I’m not so sure that there are that many now who grow up learning Rutherford New Jersey Physician turned poet, William Carlos Williams anymore. Which means that the great difficulty for spiritual people of our era is not to educate people who hold deeply held religious beliefs not to discriminate based on them. I don’t think people have grown up learning scripture. I think bigots are discriminating based on something else entirely: power.
To put it another way, if Jesus is critiquing the religious tradition of his ancestors, their temple practices, it’s ok for him… but it becomes a big anti-Semitic problem for us. If we critique the present American system of: consumerism, capitalism, politics, religion, race…using scripture as the place to do so because Jesus was talking about entwined systems of political, social, and religious practice; we’re on a slippery slope.
Note that Jesus backs off of his ire against the obviously discriminatory system and the temple and refocuses peace—wholeness—rather than brokenness on relationships; warning against those relationships that are not life giving and offering hope for those relationships that are.
“Beware that no one leads you astray…”
Let me put it this way
Scripture may be a poem
It is?
Yes.
And to say the lines in a way which evoke a reality we can see, and taste and touch; from thin air…“And Jesus went to the top of a mountain and he began to teach saying, blessed…” are to create a kingdom of God that we can make space for within ourselves, and within the world.
Which is the kind of kingdom Jesus is creating. In this kingdom there is room for Jews and gentiles, captive, and free, men and women.
It’s a place of gratitude. It’s a place of miracles.
You can picture that right?
Yes.
That’s the end of the story.
Most will start talking about something else.
For me, for us, for those who hold their hand over their hearts. (Did our hearts not burn within us?) Jesus will stay as a place of gratitude making room for more joy and for mystical experiences; even when buildings, systems, and status, and everything else we have always used; or never had access to, have long since crumbled.