* I’m trying to understand the framework you’re using. Are you suggesting that Christianity should primarily be understood as a symbolic and spiritual tradition expressing meaning and experience, rather than as making historical and theological truth-claims about events such as miracles, the resurrection, and the identity of Jesus?
Starting with the question of why many scientists do not believe in God, I first defined the concept of God and distinguished it from other deities. You said it was a categorisation error, but I fail to see why. It is the literal interpretation of miracles and resurrection that causes the problem, as well as identifying him with God.
I came upon this when I first encountered Christianity around 45 years ago because I initially regarded the Bible as an anthology of religious inspiration, written as a narrative suggesting a continuity throughout the book. I was surprised, but also curious, to find that the Pietist Bible study group I was in took it literally as history. I accepted this interpretation for about ten years, until I found reason to doubt it.
A key milestone in this journey was when I began training to become a nurse, having already become adept at leading Bible studies and delivering occasional sermons. Nursing introduced me to a whole new outlook: first, the Catholic Church; second, evidence-based medicine; and third, working with people who are dying in a hospice setting. Many of my pious assumptions were immediately shattered by experience, but slowly I came to realise that I could still benefit from reading the Bible.
However, the biggest revelation was that the empathy and compassion I needed for my patients had to come from humility. Their needs came first, and when an elderly man at the Bible meeting criticised me for not being ‘a witness to the Word’, I realised that he lacked what I had gained. The gospel of nursing is not spread by preaching, but by love in action. I came to understand that words follow deeds, just as the Gospels described Jesus’ ministry. Words try to interpret what people saw.
* When the focus shifts toward mysticism, symbolic interpretation, Midrash-like readings, and monastic perspectives, it begins to sound less like a discussion of historical or doctrinal Christianity and more like a proposal for a different kind of spiritual movement centered on experience and interpretation.
There is something mystical about caring for dying patients that is difficult to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it first-hand. There is an air of unspoken understanding and symbols, as well as half-spoken sentences. Some are fearful, some serene; some speak; some are quiet. It is important to understand their background, beliefs and hopes, and to react to them with reverence. I had a whole notebook of prayers and verses, like a personal breviary, which I took to the bedsides of such patients.
However, my personal experience aligns most closely with Christian mysticism, although I also feel a connection with Muslim and Jewish mysticism. I began to understand the value of rituals such as anointing, touch and whispers. I began to read the Bible as though I were reading between the lines and feeling the presence of the holy. One day, the sacraments became central, and the doctrine became secondary. A female pastor and I performed communion ceremonies for patients with dementia and were surprised by the peace they induced. Those were days of great gratification, as family members took part and later told us they hadn’t been to church in decades but were deeply moved.
Following Thomas Merton’s example during his journey through Asia at the end of his life, I reached out to Hindus, Buddhists, and Taoists to share my experience. We found that we resonated especially with the existential experience of death. We have our own devotion, but a familiar practice. That is where I am coming from.