Jesus Haunted: Revenant Teachings that Seem to Remain When All Else Fades.

How many times have you heard some rendition of "I'm not interested in the religion of Christianity, but Jesus's teachings are meaningful to me?"

I've heard many ex-vangelicals and believers-turned-athiest/agnostic confess this after swearing off organized religion or even the entirety of their faith.

I've heard contemporary rabbis say that Yeshua (יֵשׁוּעַ), despite not being the Messiah, was a remarkable human being.

Islam and its Quran revere Isa (عِيسَىٰ) as a prophetic, messianic messenger of God.

Mahatma Gandhi (मोहनदास करमचंद गांधी), when asked why he (despite quoting Jesus often) seemed to reject becoming a follower, is known to have responded, "Oh, I don't reject Christ. I love your Christ. It's just that so many of you Christians are so unlike your Christ."

Ralph Waldo Emerson, with a reported disdain for creeds and churches, found Jesus to be an exemplary individual and teacher; an example of the divine potential within every human.

Leo Tolstoy (Лев Толстой), rejecting dogma, rituals, and institutions, was deeply committed to Jesus's teachings of peace, love, non-resistance to evil, and condemnation of hypocrisy.

Dr. Carl Rogers, the renowned psychotherapist, while often rejecting the necessity of an external, supernatural entity or religious organization for personal growth, seems to clearly reflect the way of Jesus in his promotion of unconditional positive regard, empathy, and genuineness.

Admittedly this is due, in part, to American/Western culture, but when I took a master's level Spirituality & Religion class with ~15 people from all walks and ways of life, Jesus was talked about more than any other iconic figure.

It seems one can leave behind creeds, communities, traditions, liturgies, miracles, and even a belief in higher power altogether—yet something about Jesus holds our hand longer the rest.

Bias

As I write this, I am quite aware of an instinctive yearning to convert you, the reader, to Christianity. This seems to be a remnant of my two-and-a-half decades within the Evangelical church. While I've moved away from that flavor of faith at this time,"you can take the boy out of church, but..." you know the rest.

Although I am far from believing that religious conversion would be an inherently wrong motivation, it does not align with my currently held values. Additionally, it would not serve the purposes I hope to achieve here: A curious examination of why Jesus and his ideologies seem to remain when all else fades.

I will do my best to write neutrally, curiously, and objectively, but I would not be suprised if there are splinters of a Christian frame that you find throughout these words.

Bad or Blemished?

For a long time I viewed human imperfection ("sin," if you like) as inherent to our nature. I implicitly believed that my embryonic self formed around a supernatural darkness—handed down from Adam—that would indwell me all my days.

Like the moth brushed over by the painter.

Like the inconvenient wall too structural to remove.

Like the polluting drain pipe that no amount of rain can compensate for.

Over time, particularly through my own journey of self-discovery and guiding others through theirs as a mental health practitioner, I have come to see it differently. Interestingly, I see imperfection in a way I believe the Hebrew Bible sees it. A blemish.

What does "blemish" imply if not an intrinsic purity lying beneath.

If not its imbued rather than inherent nature.

If not its potential for restoration.

When I let my mind's eye wander, however, I do not see blemish as a dark spot on an otherwise clean figure. No, I see a marble statue yet to be revealed in the rough block of stone it rests in. This stone, a crust of painful unmet needs and mistreatment, has been placed there by our caretakers, authority figures, and enemies who have a crust of their own that originated in much the same way and so forth.

And may we not arrogantly and ignorantly forget the ways in which our own crust has caused us to treat others in ridged, sharp, heavy ways.

I speak more to these theological points and how I arrived at them in my new, brief memoir A Change of Faith: My Journey from Religious Certainty to Cosmic Curiosity. Available now!

The Sculptor's Vision

The alleged words of Michelangelo echo through me as this image comes into frame:

"The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material."

If we (and the members of our support system) are sculptors, lovingly chipping away the superfluous material which suffocates and conceals us, it would seem that Jesus is a remarkable reference in our process.

In Jesus, that very human, very good essence within us recognizes our potential in a strangely nostalgic way. Without needing to logicize it, we feel in tune—harmonioius, even—with Jesus's broadcasts of love, mercy, peace, empathy, patience, boundaries, genuineness, sacrifice, kindness, inclusivity, and hope.

Jesus is a tuning fork for the self.

A lighthouse on the discordant sea of deprivation.

A sherpa on the spiderweb path toward actualization.

A model we hope to reflect as our encrusting stone falls away.

Seen

Yet, I find the Nazarene's haunting does not stop there; dare I say it has not yet resembled a haunting at all. So far, we have only shown that Jesus may be a beautiful and beloved photograph hanging on the wall of our home. But I find there to be a presence wandering the halls. One that watches. One that sees.

When we read the words of Jesus, or even hear others' tales of him, there is often a sense of being seen. For most, this feeling may be vicarious as they observe the way Jesus saw the "least of these" around himself. If someone so spiritually and historically iconic saw—truly saw—the persons who were widowed, desitute, impoverished, sick, scandalous, exiled, forgotten, and even selfish and egotistical, then there's a chance he would have truly seen me in the way I so often long for.

For the Christian, it is less of a haunting as there is a faith that Jesus is alive today in a very real, metaphysical sense and can be legitimately communed with. As remarkable as this is, I don't believe it discredits the significance of the Jesus's vicarious "seeing" and "withness" that transcends his time on earth—whether or not he rose from the dead.

Again, Michelangelo rings out, reflecting the way in which we feel Jesus perceived and would percieve (or does perceive, if your faith allows) those around him. Including us.

"In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me, shaped and perfect in attitude and action. I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to the other eyes as mine see it."

WWJD?

The following Instagram post (@stephanie.stalvey.artist) came across my feed as I wrapped up this writing. I'd been considering how to work in the nostalgic idea of "What Would Jesus Do?" Why those four words are what we hear whispered by the mysterious voice in our dark halls.

Honestly, I think this creator, Stephanie Stalvey, did a far more beautiful and moving job than I could. So, I would love to simply share her work with you as we wrap up. I encourage you to engage with her original post and support her if you find it as meaningful as I do.

"Before we had purity rings, we had W.W.J.D. bracelets so that no matter the circumstance, we could glance at our wrist and ask ourselves: 'What would Jesus do?'

Like everything else I learned in church, I took this idea to heart.

I pored over the red letters. I really wanted to know... what would Jesus do?

Well... Jesus would treat every person like they mattered.

Jesus would prioritiz human compassion over following rules.

Jesus would cry openly and love deeply.

Jesus would always be on the side of the poor and the weak. (He had a soft spot for the underdog.)

Jesus would harshly criticize the rich and hte powerful, calling out religious leaders who used their authority to judge others (he really didn't like bullies.)

Jesus would ask us to see Christ in the beggar, the foreigner, and the prisoner.

Instead of ruling over us, Jesus would suffer and even die alongside us... divinity in solidarity with humanity rather than separate from it.

...[Stalvey has a poignant take on substiutionary atonement theology that you can find in her original post]...

Many of us...have been accused of apathy, selfishness, or 'just wanting to sin.'

When actually, I think we just wore those bracelets for so long...

and old habits die hard."

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Disclaimer:

These thoughts are presented with curiosity, wonder, and a sense of discovery.

There is so much scholarly material around religion, history, sociology, and psychology (realms I spend much of my time in). While that is immensely valuable and should be consulted when lives are at stake, I'd never produce anything if I required myself to scour these depths before voicing my thoughts which I believe to contain value and worth.

As such, it would not surprise me if my conclusions change in the future. And I hope it doesn't surprise you. That change of mind could come tomorrow, or it could come years from now. Curiosity isn't concrete. Trying to make it so robs it of its strength and beauty. As you read, I hope you will remember this - on my behalf and on yours.

“I have found that when another person has been willing to tell me something of his inner directions this has been of value to me, if only in sharpening my realization that my directions are different.”

Dr. Carl Rogers

Additionally, this post is not a substitute for psychotherapy or professional advice. If you are experiencing emotional distress or seeking personalized guidance, please consult a licensed mental health professional or other qualified expert.