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The prophet Jeremiah envisions a new covenant between God
and God’s people. Covenants in the Bible are sacred agreements, initiated by God
and agreed to by the people. Essentially, they lay out the terms of the
relationship. I will be your God, if you will be my people, says God. Being
God’s people meant keeping the terms of the covenant. There were four or five of
these covenants in Jewish history that covered most aspects of life, from moral
to dietary to social to sacred ritual. If the people kept the covenant things
went well for them, if they broke the covenant, not so well.
From exile in Babylonia, Jeremiah announces a brand new
covenant. Says Jeremiah: “This will not be like the covenant that I made with
their ancestors when I took them by the hand out of the land of Egypt – a
covenant that they broke” (Jeremiah 31:32).
I hear in this an implicit evolutionary development. God is
no longer going to hold their hand. It’s time to grow up. No longer will this
covenant be about obeying an external authority. God is going to write this
covenant on their hearts (31:33). This will be an inside out covenant. In fact,
teachers will be redundant. There will be no need for them to teach the people
to “Know the Lord”. As the prophecy says, “they shall all know” God, from the
least to the greatest.
But as I see it, God still has a problem. Even if you write
a new covenant on the heart of every person, you can’t force us to check in with
our hearts. We are a resistant lot. In a way, we like the old covenants better –
the one’s that are written on stone tablets or in books of law and enforced by
external authorities if we break them. We like the rules out there on signs
where we can see them – No Running On the Pool Deck; No Diving; Keep Out!
Trespassers Will Be Persecuted; Thou Shall Not Kill; Thou Shall Not Commit
Adultery. The truth is, we need a system of law. Our brains are part reptilian –
the first part actually. Under stress, we revert to the law of the jungle. So I
want laws, religious and civic, to protect me from not only others, but from
myself. It’s one thing to put a law on our hearts. It’s another to get us to
live by it.
So God still needs a strategy to deal with those of us who
refuse to function from this inner spiritual law that is written upon our
hearts. Well, God developed an inside out strategy for an inside-out covenant.
God comes to us through the events of our own lives. Look carefully at the
circumstances of your own life, and you can see a Divine Presence at
work, refusing to accept our refusal to look to our hearts, and persistently
badgering us to give Her a hearing. God never stops knocking on the door of our
lives to remind us to take a look at what’s written there.
This is where the parable of the persistent widow is
compelling. Traditionally, this story has been interpreted as encouragement to
pray always for what we want. A poor widow seeks justice in a court of law and
refuses to be dissuaded by a hard-hearted judge. He finally relents, just to get
rid of her. So, this interpretation goes, if a bad judge relents to the demands
of a powerless widow, how much more will God, as a compassionate judge, give us
what we ask for if we are persistent in prayer. I’m not particularly fond of
this interpretation.
Change the lens and imagine that God is the persistent
widow and the judge is the part of us that is refusing to listen. Now, I’m
interested. The parable works for me because it’s so similar to how God speaks
to us through dreams. The powerful male Judge represents our ego. This part of
us is disconnected from God and has no respect for people. If people can’t meet
our needs, they are invisible to us. The ego loves power and has no heart to
check in with. Its role is to Judge. This it does well, sitting in judgment upon
others and ourselves. We all have an inner Judge that cannot see past our own
needs and desires. It has no need of God. In fact, God threatens our seat of
power, so the Judge’s role is to work to keep God out.
How do you think God might be portrayed by our soul in a
dream? It would make sense that this ignored aspect of our life would be
portrayed as a powerless, nameless, insignificant person. In 1st
century Mediterranean culture, a widow personifies these qualities perfectly.
She is the voiceless one. Yet she demands to be heard. She is the powerless one,
yet will not let the powerful off the hook. She is the invisible one, who
nevertheless will be seen. In dream symbolism, she would represent a particular
aspect, or archetype, of God – the divine feminine which has been
neglected but which will not leave us alone. It is the widowed sacred feminine
that returns to us again and again, trying to break through our defenses, trying
to get the hard-hearted part of us to relent and take a look at the law that is
written on our hearts.
This is true, whether you are a man or a woman. In fact, it
is men in our culture who are most in need of the sacred feminine. Why is that
men in our culture are watching so much TV, pursuing careers at the expense of
relationships and family, struggling with addiction, joining street gangs,
beating up their wives, filling up our prisons? Why are our churches emptying of
men? Why aren’t we praying as men, listening to our dreams, weeping for our
planet, dancing ecstatically, loving extravagantly, communicating authentically,
committing to community? Why do so many of still live in self-imposed bubbles of
isolation. Why are we still so uncomfortable with vulnerability? Of course,
there are exceptions. And of course, women also have an inner judge that refuses
to hear the voice of the sacred feminine. But, my observation is that it is men,
more than most women, who are annoyed as hell by the voice of the divine widow
who wants an audience with us.
Truthfully, the feminine divine has been a cultural pariah
for millennia now. She is not interested in the ways of the world, nor in the
stories we’ve told ourselves about what makes for a meaningful life. She’s not
interested in an ethic of domination for personal gain. She is interested in the
ways of love. She finds life in the deep within of things – in the sacred space
of authentic relationships. She knows that the sacred covenant is written into
the very heart of all creation, not only with the human ones. It is braided into
fabric of the unfolding universe itself. She is a friend to creation, and weeps
when we can only see the earth as a resource to prop up lifestyles that have
nothing to do with the Heart Covenant. She is the fierceness within, who at
times of war will defend the lives of her children, before the ambitions of the
Empire. She is the subversive one, who refuses to move to the back of the bus
called bigotry. She is the voice of the victims of all the judges and all the
societies in every age, who were blinded by status and privilege. She is the one
who trades in respectability for a divine madness and gets lost in the ecstatic
dance of the cosmos. She comes to us in rags, poor and disheveled after
millennia of neglect, but she comes, Leonard Cohen’s phase, “like a refugee”.
And comes. And comes. She’s knocking right now on the door of our hearts.
Her other name is Wisdom – Sophia in the Greek. Jesus gave
her a day in court very early in his life. Having heard her plead her case, his
heart broke open. He read the new covenant that was written there and never
looked back. He took her rags and exchanged them for royal robes. He gave up his
throne for Her to sit on. He sat before her day and night as she taught him the
deep love of God and the sacred story of creation. Finally, she reminded him
that Her wisdom was written upon his heart – that he needed nobody to teach him
about God. The only lesson She ever taught him was to look there. So, he sat in
silence and one day became the new covenant, the very presence of Wisdom,
and offered himself to the world. He put on the rags of his teacher and went out
into a world that sat in judgment of him.
She comes to us, this widowed divine. She is the host of
this banquet we are about to share. She comes to us through Jesus, the Christ,
who has prepared this covenant feast. As we take the bread and the cup, let us
look to our hearts. Everything we need for life is written there.
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