The document discusses the author's reflections on a theology of ministry course. It led them to question the nature and origin of God, and how we choose to praise and honor God without fully understanding those matters. A key takeaway was the importance of demonstrating one's faith through works, not just words. The author discusses how their upbringing in a bi-religious household shaped their pluralistic and non-denominational perspective. They believe the act of having faith is more important than any particular practice. A recurring theme is the importance of unconditional love for others.

1. Philip Guillet
PC 702: Theology of Ministry
December 14, 2010
Final Paper: Topic A
As I near the end of this semester, I now reflect on what this course has brought to
me. In retrospect, I find it nothing short of ironic that instead of having previously
existing questions answered, I am now left with more questions. Specifically, questions
concerning the personal nature, and possible origin, of God Himself. However, since it is
truly unrealistic for me to have any sort of grasp on those matters, it then falls down to
how we choose to praise and honour Him.
I had taken a previous theology course at Loyola, and one moment in that
semester which stills stands out in my memory was during an evening when a Rabbi
came as a guest lecturer. She mentioned the importance of “owning” a piece of Scripture.
That meaning that a section, chapter, or even a verse, one would otherwise believe was
placed in the Bible strictly for him or her. One verse came to mind. “For as the body
without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also,” (James 2:26). This is the
verse I “own” because it reminds me that one should not simply claim to be a Christian,
or Jew, or Muslim, or “spiritual”. This can easily be construed as superficial lip service
which partially defeats the purpose of even categorizing one’s own brand of worship. In
order for one to (internally or externally) consider himself a member of any form of
religion, there is also a certain amount of personal responsibility that comes along with it.
Someone who considers himself a follower of Christ, Buddha, or Mohammed is not

2. necessarily required to speak arbitrarily of, or from, His behalf, but simply to allow those
to see how religion has molded and shaped him. Hopefully, from thence, others will be
intrinsically inspired to follow a genuine suit. A person’s religion should be a source of
guidance and inspiration, and not an unconditional, by default source of forgiveness for
hypocrisy.
During the course of this semester, an assignment we were given was to offer
personal insight into Scriptural readings. My assigned section was that of the First and
Second Epistles of John. Once again, a verse stuck out from among all others; a verse
whose power could only be measured in its form of absolute simplicity. “For this is the
message that ye heard from the beginning, that we should love one another,” (1 John
3:11). What is truly intriguing about this verse is not simply that all people are considered
equal in the eyes of God, and therefore each of us deserve indiscriminate caring, it is
regarding the use of the singular usage of “message”. It is as if to claim that all other
displays of worship, ritualism, and devotion lie lower on a hierarchical scale than the
respect and admiration we should convey to our fellow humankind. There is also a
reference to Genesis: “from the beginning”, and this could be John’s way of expressing
what he believes to be “the meaning or purpose of life”. We need to master a Godlike
form of unconditional love for one another during this relatively brief time period that we
are alive in order to prove our worth as learned children of Him. Or else then how could
we be expected to continue to love God for all eternity?
A form of reasoning I try my best to steer myself away from is that of simple
labeling out of a choice of one or the other. It seems to me as though it is a gross

3. oversimplification of humankind to claim that if a person is not “one thing”, he is
therefore “the other”, and possess absolutely no shades of gray that lie in between or
outside those two choices. This is an issue concerning philosophers who try to define
themselves as either essentialists or existentialists…as though there was no medium. I am
reminded of the European Enlightenment of the 18th
century, which eventually gave rise
to modern day Reform Judaism. This basically stated that in order for a religion to
persevere throughout an ever changing history, its beliefs and practices must also be
examined with the eyes of scientific objectivity. This “enlightenment” was a metaphoric
representation of rationality overcoming the “darkness” of what could now be considered
blind superstition. Anxiety and the ensuing fear of feeling perpetually watched by an all-
seeing, ever-judging omnipotence was externally fueled by human forms of authority.
They were the same sources of authority that claimed to have God speaking through
them, and therefore were displaying a Godlike proportion of negative judgment and
sentencing. This includes the Salem Witch Trials, the Spanish Inquisition, and even
modern day viewpoints on same-sex marriage.
What the European Enlightenment sought to inspire was a source of religious
devotion that arose from an internal locus of control. This would allow an individual to
personalize a genuine bond with God, emphasize personal autonomy, and have fewer
external distractions concerning what God expects him to do.
As previously stated, I do not believe that one’s sense of Being is either prior
established, nor is he a conglomerate of experience. There is possibly an infinite number
of ways someone’s experience and memories can help or hinder development, yet there is

4. also an untainted core which acts as the fuel cell for all forms of righteousness. It is this
belief that I have maintained throughout my life which offers insight into, for example,
my pluralistic sense of ritualism. I was born into, and raised, in a bi-religious household.
My mother is Jewish and my father is Roman Catholic. Every year, my family celebrated
both Judaic and Catholic holidays; I learned the tale of the wise men for the Epiphany as
well as the story of Esther for Purim. While I admit that being open to multiple forms of
religious expression may have been due to my lifelong experiences, it’s as equally
probable for me to claim that this served as a multifaceted outlet for a non-
denominational perspective on the nature of God. It has shown me that there is no real
“right” way to worship, nor does the partaking in one form of practice detract from the
experience of another. In the understanding of my own theology of ministry, the
particularity of practice is nearly irrelevant when compared to the act of the practice
itself. In other words, having a form of faith is not as important as having faith itself.
To a cynic, it seems as though I’ve played a game of “pick and choose” with
matters that people have been killed over. However, I personally like to think that we, as
a whole civilization, have progressed (or evolved) from the genocidal manifestations of
primitive insecurities. Once the dust has settled, silence and calmness are free to return to
a non-judgmental state of religious expression. Some may consider it odd that, in my
daily prayer, I hold the New Testament, kneeling barefoot on an Islamic prayer mat that
faces the east while covering my eyes in a similar fashion to Judaic practice.
The openness of my religious expression has allowed for a personalized form of
worship, one that continuously strengthens not only my intrinsic sense of guidance, but
my morality as well.

5. Recently, I attended a weekend retreat with a few of my classmates and professors
at the Shrine of Saint Anthony in Ellicott City. Toward the end of the experience, we
were encouraged to pray through listening. Many people nowadays tend to think of
prayer as requesting something from God or some other form of one way conversation.
We were asked to turn the table around and pray by trying to listen to what God may seek
to request in us. During the experience of walking through the field, trying my best to
keep my ears open, a truly unusual thing happened…
A simple word instantaneously passed through my field of auditory perception.
The word was “continue”.
In looking back around the time of the retreat, I had been plagued by severe
doubts in myself about being a soon-to-be-father, confusion over how to handle tense
issues with coworkers, and feelings of worthlessness and unmistakable sadness when I
viewed my own self in a larger context. I did not perceive the word “continue” to be that
my situation is actually really great, that I’m only imagining it as bad, and that
“everything will be okay as long as I keep trucking along”. I took the word to mean that,
while my situation at that time may have left some room for improvement, I am on the
right path nonetheless. It was this form of spiritual reaffirmation that helped me
overcome some degree of sadness, and gave me the strength I needed to follow the word
“continue”. It allowed me to feel as though I belonged to an entity much larger than all of
us combined without making me feel like a negligible cog.
A unifying theme that prevails throughout what I consider to be my theology of
ministry is unconditional love. While the second Commandment may have claimed that

6. God is jealous, and therefore desiring of all the love man has to offer, we, as children of
God may be serving as different models of God to love Him through us. And I am
reminded of the final words spoken aloud by George Harrison, in a likely coincidental
paraphrasing of 1 John 3:11… “Love one another.”

7. God is jealous, and therefore desiring of all the love man has to offer, we, as children of
God may be serving as different models of God to love Him through us. And I am
reminded of the final words spoken aloud by George Harrison, in a likely coincidental
paraphrasing of 1 John 3:11… “Love one another.”