I have poured out several great points of Rohr here and will get into some of them in later blogs. However, two things struck me about the tact he has taken: one, that Fr. Rohr's ideas coincide almost exactly with my own, albeit on a more knowledgeable level; and two, that he incorporates the "bleeding Christ" into our own lives, although not as deeply as I would often demand.
On our mutual agreeability, I would like to say that great minds think alike, but know better. Rather, I have always found that when others have my ideas, it is because we are a part of a movement of thought, however hidden that may be. Rohr himself admits to gleaning from the Perennial Tradition, of which I have long been a part, that sees life itself as a metaphor of God - and the literary metaphors of religion as metaphors for God in life. The latter are not to be read as literal, but as pointing a way to the greater truth that is beyond our limited rational verbiage - just as our lives are not to be seen in the deadness of the restraints our society has placed on it. Christ was about freedom, yes - freedom from our false self, which then allows us access to the limitless creativity of the Source. All true, all wonderful...but...
In contemplating the bloody Christ, I have often thought that we humans usually die in misery as well, and suffer insupportable sorrows. They are inevitable. Someday we will all be told, "you have cancer" or "we will have to take off your leg because of diabetes," or, eventually, "you are going to die - soon" and often these deaths are painful indeed, lasting far longer than the day of suffering that Jesus had. We might also see our children die, or become addicted, or themselves develop horrible diseases. We are, in effect, most probably going to suffer at least as much as Jesus did on the cross. And this is why my essays often have a dark side - for we must face this inevitability first before we can have true conviction in the greater light. Untold numbers of people have lost faith in God because of their suffering, or the suffering of others. "Why would a good God allow this to happen?," and it is a good question. It is one that has to be answered.
"Immortal Diamond" does not linger in the dark side, but it is explaining it (as I continue to read) well in the metaphor that is life. The Christ, as Rohr explains, is an "icon of our destiny," no more or less than the path each person must take to return to wholeness. The Christ is the metaphor, while Jesus is us, the person. His life is the life of all humans, of all truth - for no matter what, we must all "die to life to gain it." In another blog I have quoted Rohr quoting a hospice worker who said that life and death are exquisitely timed for release into the true and eternal self - that is, that the dying process helps us lose our false self and regain our true self. And this is 'Jesus the Icon' - that we must die, often horribly, to gain Heaven, or union - die to ourselves as well as to our bodies. Thus is Christianity (as with other religions in other ways) a metaphor for life, and life a metaphor for the process, the relationship of the god within us to the God apart from us. Thus are the change of seasons, of all death and regeneration a metaphor. And so are the holy myths that make up religion - in myth, less than the superficial facts of science, but much much more in truth. FK