buddhism

Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other

In an interview with Benedictine monk Father Augustine Wetta, Fr. Wetta talked about a fellow monk recently leaving the monastic brotherhood and explained that whenever this happened, it was almost always because of a secret, something they were too afraid or ashamed to tell someone else. He went on to explain just how tragic and unnecessary the loss of a monastic brother was because whatever was going on could have been worked out if only the monk were willing to discuss it with another person instead of keeping it to himself.

There’s a saying in the recovery community that “We are only as sick as our secrets.” There’s a lot of truth to this. The things about us that we hide and keep secret become the edges onto which demons can cling. By keeping certain aspects of ourselves hidden in the shadows, those shadows begin living in us. 

This is not to say that we should share everything with everyone. That is not only unwise, but it can also cause more harm than good. By oversharing and being overly honest, we risk hurting others and putting ourselves in a position where we cannot help anyone. 

We shouldn’t, however, be the only person who knows everything about us. This is especially true for those things about us for which we carry shame, guilt, remorse, or embarrassment. These negative emotions are a recipe for isolation, and when we isolate, which is different than solitude, the devil is usually there to keep us company. “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective (James 5:16, NIV).”

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations on God and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Going to the source for joy and peace

During breakfast, my daughter asked, “Daddy, why is the water auntie’s house different than the water at our house?”

“It comes from a different source,” I told her. 

Sources matter. This is especially true when it comes to prayer and who we rely on for inspiration, guidance, and salvation. There are many different sources, but they don’t all promise the same end product. 

As the saying goes, “Your mileage may vary.” 

For many years, partly in rebellion against my Christian upbringing and partly out of a genuine curiosity, I was deeply attracted to the religions of the East, particularly Buddhism. I took classes, attended workshops, read books, listened to talks, and visited monasteries. I even married a woman from a predominantly Buddhist country. 

Buddhism was attractive to me because it offered something I didn’t think Christianity did. It offered a method by which to practice. Christianity had prayer, Scripture, and church, but Buddhism had meditation and the promises of meditation were what really drew me into the religion, and it worked for a while. 

Then one day, I had a crisis, a spiritual crisis. A series of events and personal choices threw my life completely out of balance and I started to experience anxiety attacks, severe depression, and what felt like the beginning of a nervous breakdown. 

Among other things, I tried to recenter myself by returning to my Buddhist books, lectures, and meditation, but something was missing. It felt like I was hitting my head on a spiritual ceiling and I just couldn’t break through. I was almost there, but not quite and I couldn’t figure out why. 

In hindsight, I can now see that God was allowing me to struggle so that I would learn a lesson only pain was going to teach me. In my desperation, I cried out to God for help. I prayed for guidance and wisdom, and, as divine providence would have it, I stumbled upon a book called The Wisdom Jesus: Transforming Heart and Mind – A New Perspective on Christ and His Message by Cynthia Bourgeault (2008). 

Upon reading The Wisdom Jesus, I discovered what was missing from my practice and that was God. Bourgeault’s book not only helped me bridge the gap between Buddhism and the teachings of Jesus, but it also reminded me of who I was and am, and that is a Christian. This book clarified why Buddhism no longer spoke to my heart as it once did. Buddhism had not changed. I had. 

This realization restarted my journey in Christ and reignited the fire in my heart for the Lord. Through Bourgeault’s work, I was introduced to Thomas Keating and through Keating I was introduced to centering prayer. In centering prayer, I found a method for meditating which, instead of focusing on me and my attempts at enlightenment, focused on God and inviting him into my heart to do his work. 

Both meditation and centering prayer are similar in many ways and they both promise transformative results. The difference between meditation and centering prayer, however, is the source of those results. In meditation, the results come from the practice itself and these results can be amazing and life-changing. The results from centering prayer, however, come from God. 

Simply by changing the focus of my practicing an tapping into a different source, by tapping into God, my whole life changed. I stopped having anxiety attacks, my depression subsided, and my relationships started to balance out. I firmly believe that is because God was doing for me what I couldn’t do for myself. 

None of this is to criticize Buddhism or to put down meditation as a practice. On the contrary, both Buddhism and meditation helped me out immensely as far as they could go, but for whatever reason, I needed to go deeper and I needed God’s help to get there. I needed to tap into a different source than Buddhism or meditation had to offer. I needed to tap into God and I needed to go through Jesus to do so. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Is this the kind of dharma you are trying to create

I had a dream last night that still has me contemplating its meaning. In my dream, I was arguing with a plain-clothes police officer because he had unjustly harassed and detained someone. He then turned on me and began harassing me and trying to detain me. 

As I struggled to resist detainment, I saw that the police officer had a set of Buddhist prayer beads on his wrist. I grabbed the prayer beads and said to the officer, “Is this the kind of dharma you are trying to create? Is this the kind of sangha you are trying to create? Is this the kind of karma you are trying to create?” 

In Buddhism, dharma is thought of as the way or the path, the wisdom teachings that lead a practitioner to enlightenment. Sangha is the community of fellow practitioners with whom a person shares the spiritual journey. Karma is the spiritual law of cause and effect wherein a person’s actions have a direct correlation to the type of life that person will have. 

In my sleep, these questions, “Is this the kind of dharma you are trying to create? Is this the kind of sangha you are trying to create? Is this the kind of karma you are trying to create?” just kept repeating in my mind. It felt like I asked them over and over again for hours before finally waking up. Once I woke up, I was in that strange post-dream state where I knew I was awake and my dream was just a dream, but I could still feel the dream as if it was something that I had actually experienced in my waking hours. 

Experiences like this make me question which is more real, our awakened state or our dream state. I suppose both are equally real, but it’s easy to dismiss dreams as less real or even imaginary because they happen when we sleep. Dreams like this, however, that have a profound and lasting emotional and psychological impact because they feel just as or more real than what is experienced in our waking hours. 

I’m still meditating on the significance of and the meaning behind this dream, but the questions it left me with feel like a spiritual puzzle not easily solved with reason alone and which will, therefore, require prayer. For example, who was the plain-clothes police officer in my dream? Who did he detain? Why was I challenging this unjust detainment? Why did he then try to detain me? Perhaps most importantly, however, what kind of dharma, sangha, and karma am I trying to create? 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

There’s truth and then there’s Gospel

The books and teachers that influenced me when I first started my spiritual journey are not the same books and teachers that speak to me now. That does not make them any less valuable, however. They are still very much a part of my story. They are part of my spiritual identity, part of my spiritual DNA. 

When I first began seeking God, enlightenment, a spiritual experience, or whatever you’d like to call it, I was attracted to anything and everything that was not Christianity. While I was raised as a Christian, sort of,* I turned my back on God and religion as a teenager. 

As a result, I found spiritual comfort in non-Christian teachings. I was particularly interested in and attracted to Buddhism and Taoism, although I also studied Hinduism, Judaism, Islam, and even Zoroastrianism. But Buddhism, especially Zen Buddhism, was where I found my spiritual home for many years. 

As I made my way, or rather was called back to, Christianity, however, many of the books and teachers whose words used to deeply move me, simply miss the spiritual mark for me now. That doesn’t mean they do not have value. Nor does it mean that they do not offer deep, powerful truths. Rather, the part of me that they once spoke to no longer exists, or has grown and changed into something or someone else. 

But these books and teachers are still part of who I am. They were the building blocks for the spiritual temple that is my life. I owe a debt of gratitude to and have immense respect for them. 

What I have found, however, is that many, if not all, of the teachings and practices that attracted me to Buddhism and its spiritual cousins exist in some shape or form in the vast and deep tradition that is Christianity. I simply was not ready to hear or see that when I first started this journey. 

Whether it is meditation, asceticism, or monasticism, Christianity has some version of it that feels as deep, true, and enriching as anything I found in these other traditions. The difference is that Christianity has God and, more specifically Jesus, guiding, informing, and leading the way through the journey. While I wasn’t ready for this in my youth, it brings my soul comfort, peace, and joy now. 

Coming to know Jesus and accepting him as my lord and savior has opened my heart and mind to so much of what I was unable and unwilling to see because of pride, prejudice, and stubbornness. It is no wonder I was such an insatiable seeker. Until I returned back to Christianity, nothing I read and no one I listened to was going to be good enough. 

I didn’t need spirituality as spirituality. Nor did I need wisdom for wisdom’s sake. What I needed was God. As my college religions professor told me when, after several semesters of studying a variety of religious traditions with him, I asked him what his personal beliefs were, “There is truth in all of these traditions, but in Christianity I have found the Gospel.” 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

*We went to church with my grandparents when we stayed at their house as kids, but my parents never really instilled in us Christian values or taught us about Christianity. Although they did start taking us to church at one point because I asked to go as a means of trying to find a solution to my feeling lost and out of place in this world. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. I still felt lost and out of place.