Replies

Scott,
I’m right there with you.
I was first introduced to Whitehead and process theology by my Methodist minister. And many years later, as I was studying Christian Universalism and apokatastasis, I just happened onto Thomas Oord’s growing body of work, and his new Center for Open and Relational Theology.
I’ve listened to Tom countless times since in his podcasts and online speaking engagements, as well as diving headfirst into each of his books as he’s published them.

There is a lot of convergence with the two schools in my opinion, and at least for Tom’s approach I think that ORT is strongly grounded in process theology and builds upon it.
An ORT perspective on the nature of God, as relational, luring but not controlling, and dipolar, is much the same in my opinion as in current process theology.
So, at least for my own “headcanon”, I think the two schools are complimentary.

As for my belief in “universal reconciliation/salvation”, I do think that ORT dovetails much better with my belief, than traditional process thought. In fairness I think that ORT is, by its nature, more “open-ended” toward addressing the question of salvation.

I forgot to update, that yes, the link is working now.
Not sure whether it was a problem on my end, or the server.

[Kyle Russell]

Charles,

Thanks for your in-depth research and thoughtful perspective into the term, “Higher Power”, within Alcoholics Anonymous and the Twelve-Step framework.

I’ll add my $.02, having years of experience within multiple AA groups, as a member, sponsor, and GSR (General Service Representative).
I am a Christian, my background theology is Wesleyan-Arminian, and for most of my life I have believed in “apokatastasis”, i.e. universal salvation.

AA’s genes certainly do go back to the old Oxford Group, and the Twelve-Step program borrowed from the Oxford Steps. AA itself however does not function as a faith or religion. And as I mentioned, I am not a Calvinist at heart.

I think it’s also important to note that whereas Christianity encompasses the divine-grace of Salvation and the afterlife, 12-Step programs focus rather on helping the person in the immediate here-and-now of their respective substance-dependence. So, differing aims in that sense at least.

“Higher Power”, rather than using “God” (and requiring the adoption of a particular theological school), came about as a way of inclusion, a sort of “service to all” mind=set… theists, agnostics, atheists, any spirituality, with (in my opinion) a benevolent notion of trying to save as many alcoholics as possible from a life of servitude and eventual destruction within alcohol.

So… “Higher Power” and how it is used.
I’m often reminded of a quote from the 1983 movie, “Rudy”, when the main character Rudy is talking to a priest about all his fruitless hard work to get onto the Notre Dame football team:
Rudy : “If I’ve done everything I possibly can, can you help me?”
Father Cavanaugh : “Son, in thirty-five years of religious study, I’ve come up with only two hard, incontrovertible facts; there is a God, and, I’m not Him.”

That can help clarify how and why the Twelve-Steps work for many of us alcoholics: The realization and heartfelt acknowledgment that I am not God. I am powerless to control my own drinking. I need help. I must be honest with myself, and others. And by helping someone else, service to another, I can also help myself.
In many ways, this is a moment-by-moment process for an alcoholic. A second at a time, a minute at a time. One day at a time.

Although AA groups are traditionally autonomous, and the flavor or nature of each group can be quite varied, in reality it would be extraordinarily rare to find any AA-GSO (that’s the HQ for AA) listed AA group, that would permit anyone to push any particular spirituality or faith on other members.
I have sponsored atheists, and have known a fair number of members of various faiths, agnostics, and otherwise non-spiritual members. Honestly, religion or theology almost never comes up in meetings, and is in fact actively discouraged from discussion within group meetings.

The inherent beauty of AA, therefore, exists in it’s inclusive applicability to all suffering alcoholics. Apart from whatever the original intent of the founders, Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith, it has evolved into what I consider to be something of a process-style framework, a “moment by moment” approach to the question of whether to take that next drink, and what I consider the “divine-lure” in realizing the good possibilities of choosing not to. Every day, every moment, is a fresh acknowledgment of my past, my problem, and a new fresh possibility in the future.

As I wrote in another paper, “And therein lies our hope, with an open future of countless possibilities that do not include a necessary drink. With that open future we can create good. We can create community instead of opting for unhealthy isolation and social withdrawal into a bottle-prison. Each new moment contains a continuing, tragic yet empowering reaffirmation of being an alcoholic, facing hopeful possibilities in an uncertain but welcome… and welcoming… future. This is in stark contrast to the hellish dread of an active alcoholic infinitely falling through the black-hole of self-loathing, depression and dependence; no new possibilities, but only the same bleak do-over routine of temporarily dulling the pain with the next drink, reliving the hell of depression, and a hangover all over again, “Groundhog Day” style.

And so it is up to the individual… in their respective moment… to choose what direction that help may come. It may be faith, it may be the group, it may be a sponsor, and it may be a fellow struggling alcoholic. Therein lies the strength of AA. And for somehow such as myself, with a deep faith in a forgiving and loving God, all of those options represent divine-lures in the moment-at-hand.

For me, a loving, forgiving, reconciling God is my “Higher Power”.
For others, “Higher Power” is simply an ongoing acknowledgment of their own capability for bad choices, their humanity and their need for help. And for some of us, that sense of “Higher Power” can serve as the divine-lure for future choices, moment-by-moment.
In this sense, I am of the opinion that AA and other similar Twelve-Step programs can fit very well, and inclusively for all, within a process theology framework.

• This reply was modified 3 years, 4 months ago by Kyle Russell.
• This reply was modified 3 years, 4 months ago by Kyle Russell.

[Kyle Russell]

Jennifer,

Yes, I noted that also. I think it may be more of a difference of opinion on the nature of everlasting life, such as the idea of objective vs subjective immortality, rather than a completely nihilistic view that, “this is all there is and ain’t nothing more.”

You’ve already had some excellent, and far more educated responses than I can provide, and I’m certainly not a process scholar. I do know, and I’ll share from my own faith, that I’m perfectly comfortable with the idea of objective immortality, living on in the memory of God. Everyone has their inner fears surrounding death, and that is probably my greatest fear… being forever forgotten, as though I never existed and contributed nothing. In that sense, objective immortality provides me with the comfort of believing that They who loved me most will continue to think of me, sort of in the spirit of Shakespeares’ “Henry V”…
“Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember’d;”

A further idea, that supports subjective immortality, is emerging and growing within the scientific community and the continuing study of NDE’s (near death experiences), with a move away from traditional materialism toward a theory of “nonlocal realism”, and “nonlocalized consciousness”, which I think parallels process thought well. Further food for thought, then along this line of discussion…
“Nonlocal realism is the term we use to represent a holistic and integrated worldview that displays the reality (hence realism) of a singular integrated, interconnected universal field of relationships.”
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7588183/

• This reply was modified 3 years, 4 months ago by Kyle Russell.

Thanks Jennifer!
Same for me, I often think of God as the artist, that’s a frequent metaphor for me.
And as something of a ballroom dancer hobbyist, I sometimes fall back on a metaphor of God as the ballroom dance lead. Sort of follows that idea of a cooperative “dance”, creating a collaboration of beauty, following God’s “lead”. Hopefully inspiring others to be inspired and motivated to join in the ongoing “dance”. This makes sense for me, and one of my favorite tunes is the old hymn, “Lord of the Dance”.

Charles,
You raise an interesting question, and I do think it’s a common thought for anyone pondering the historical Jesus, and the objective immortality of Christ. For me, it has raised parallel pondering on the nature of the Trinity, very near and dear to me.

This is an ongoing “process” for me… which I think is much of the point. To try and firmly set in stone the nature of Jesus, and a static determination of who He was as a human, etc., requires not considering all the possibilities, and future events, that would flow from His every action and relationship. For every, “dark” color you might see on the canvas of His life, for every discordant chord you hear… another might see something, “brighter”, perhaps more “musical” and affecting for them, a new thought, a new dance-step… that might activate what could become a far more positive process of events for that person or affected persons.

I think you are spot-on with looking at the bigger picture then, of His objective immortality. I don’t think that we can fairly or accurately reduce, who He was/is, to just the 30+ years of His humanity (I don’t honestly think that we can do that with anyone), because who He is, is someone who has saved countless lives in so many differing ways depending on that person(s) own perceptions and particular situation. He did so with me certainly, and I give Him complete credit for that, and my story was/is a crazy, but beautiful (I hope) canvas, dance, etc.
So I must ask that question then, “But for Him…” in examining and analyzing my own life, or objective immortality.

It becomes impossible to remove Him from that equation by reducing Him to those 30+ years, or by statically attempting to judge each action of His in a yes/no definitive fashion. It reminds me of the old moral question, better to give a person a fish for a day, or teach them how to fish? A dynamic question without a clear answer.
It also reminds me of the old Talmudic lesson, “And whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world.” – Jerusalem Talmud, Sanhedrin 4:1 (22a)

If Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ, is God (whom I believe that He was/is), then I must likewise understand the impossibility of me trying to second-guess His actions… His humanity… and all the “broken roads” that He has Divinely lured me down, bringing me here to dialogue with you and the group, having faith that ultimately good will result, “in the process”.

It’s fascinating to me to read the various perspectives, and consider them in light of Process, and what we’ve been learning.

I do think that the continuing and ongoing actualization of Jesus’s words and actions do create an objective immortality, and I would venture that Jesus’s objective immortality in this sense could be the ideal subjective aim of God in every moment, past from the beginning, and into the future. So, in that sense Jesus was and is God… the realization of each interaction, actuality.

Sorry, I’m not a philosopher, just trying to create a fresh way for me to consider.

Jay,

Thank you very much for that. God as the Deep Memory of the universe is a very comforting and reassuring thought.

I have a particular interest in film, encompassing many genres. As I gain knowledge in the course, I’m finding myself rethinking past ruminations on some of my favorites, now through a Process lens.

“Groundhog Day” keeps raising its furry head and nudging gently. And the gentle winds of Andrei Tarkovsky’s poetic masterworks, such as, “Mirror”, and “Stalker”, are stirring some leaves to sway again.

“Departures”… and even one of my guilty pleasures, “Strictly Ballroom”… are both dancing in my thoughts also.

I came to this course because of my interest in Process theology, Christianity, and Thomas Oord’s work. As the course progresses I’ve been feeling a soft, concurrent tugging toward my filmophile nature. Maybe it’s a divine lure, a cooperative call.
I’ve got a growing suspicion my upcoming springboard project may take an unexpected detour.

As Lawrence wrote, “The philosopher Charles Taylor’s tome THE SECULAR AGE focuses on this very theme… If I remember correctly he says we have lost our sense of the enchantment of existence. This can be a good thing when we believe in fewer imaginary superstitions and rely on science to get a closer picture of the universe, but can clearly drift into the excess of physicalism. We may not want to go back to seeing monsters under the bed but cannot lose our deep appreciation of the significance of all life and all experience.”

This reminded me of Mark Twain’s musings in his essay, “Two Ways of Seeing a River”, remembering his time training as a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi River. It is a poignant reminder of the price we must sometimes pay in our journeys.

“Now when I had mastered the language of this water and had come to know every trifling feature that bordered the great river as familiarly as I knew the letters of the alphabet, I had made a valuable acquisition. But I had lost something, too. I had lost something which could never be restored to me while I lived. All the grace, the beauty, the poetry had gone out of the majestic river! I still keep in mind a certain wonderful sunset which I witnessed when steamboating was new to me…
I stood like one bewitched. I drank it in, in a speechless rapture… But as I have said, a day came when I began to cease from noting the glories and the charms which the moon and the sun and the twilight wrought upon the river’s face; another day came when I ceased altogether to note them. Then, if that sunset scene had been repeated, I should have looked upon it without rapture, and should have commented upon it, inwardly, in this fashion: ‘This sun means that we are going to have wind to-morrow…’
No, the romance and the beauty were all gone from the river. All the value any feature of it had for me now was the amount of usefulness it could furnish toward compassing the safe piloting of a steamboat. Since those days, I have pitied doctors from my heart. What does the lovely flush in a beauty’s cheek mean to a doctor but a “break” that ripples above some deadly disease? Are not all her visible charms sown thick with what are to him the signs and symbols of hidden decay? Does he ever see her beauty at all, or doesn’t he simply view her professionally, and comment upon her unwholesome condition all to himself? And doesn’t he sometimes wonder whether he has gained most or lost most by learning his trade?” – Mark Twain, 1883