I took a step away from deep thoughts for a moment and thought I would step outside my small circle and check out the state of my view on ordinary people out there. It’s not altogether pretty. I’m usually an optimist, but man there is some weird stuff out there, and I found myself spiraling into a deep sense of pessimism that truly is foreign to me. Just perusing through social network sites, (you would be amazed at how many are totally public) was shallow proof that the end of the world is nigh. Seriously, if the observer does has an impact on the state of the world (check the last post), I can understand why we are all slipping into hell in a dirty hand basket. I can’t get over the fact that there actually is a website dedicated to Wal-Mart people…moreover I can’t get over the fact that people on that website actually went out in public like that. I am amazed at the stupid, stupid, STUPID things that ordinary folk take to heart as fact, such as Obama is really a foreign Muslim, or the world is 6000 years old, and Climate change is really Armageddon, so there is nothing we can so do to stop it. This is not good. I am a bit ashamed and feeling a bit self-righteous as an observer and I will ponder on this a bit. Granted there is a lot of strange and stupid things out there, but it is how I, as an observer respond to it that makes on the difference in the world. At this point, I admit I don’t know how to respond…so I won’t. I will, believe me. I just wanted you to understand the silence.
Category: hope
Why being Ordinary can carry Extraordinary Implications
A priest once told me that the movie in my head was much better than real life and I was just setting myself up for disappointment. I actually felt sorry for him…and, hopefully, now that he is not restricted by human limitations any longer, he sees things differently. I don’t know if it a blessing or a curse, but I do believe the movie in my head is fantastic…because it’s inspired by God and God has an even better imagination than I do. I do admit, though, that priest’s words have challenged me throughout my life to understand the importance that perspective ( the movie in our heads) has on shaping reality. While the theological essence of perspective has been my choice of study…I wanted to enlarge my focus to include a scientific perspective as well. As a non scientist, though, it’s been an exciting challenge to understand the process of observation within the context of quantum physics. but I do so because it opened my eyes (pun intended) to the important position of being an observer, and my personal impact on the world. The first part may seem unbearably dry, but bear with me, it’s essential in understanding how important observation is in bringing the movie in our heads to fruition. Just as important, in a time where fame and infamy give credibility and notoriety to a select and often undeserving few, I think a pitch for the ordinary Joe or Josephine is crucial.
It is tragic that in my study of theology, we never looked at science to broaden our understanding of God. Reflecting back on my own experience with science, it always made me uncomfortable. There was always an unspoken understanding that science was diametrically opposed to religion (just look at the controversy between evolution and creationism, or “divine intelligence” as its now called). Somehow, since God transcended the material world and couldn’t be proved by extrinsic evidence, science existed in some subterranean dimension. Many scientists and theologians appear to lie in wait to challenge, as fallible, the fundamental suppositions of either discipline (although there are plenty of religious leaders who believe there is plenty of extrinsic evidence that proves the existence of God, the majority of scientists I’ve met generally, keep faith and science separate).
During my early studies, the discovery that religion hadn’t necessarily represented my role as a woman in the world fair or accurately, led logically to understanding that perhaps that the conclusions they made about other things were flawed as well. History has many sad moments when the church harshly closed a door on a scientific discovery. It didn’t seem like an in-congruent step, then, as a result of all the historical animosity that scientists were not giving religious truth a fair shot either. It appears to me, anyway, that many on both sides would be perfectly happy to cancel the other out. Nothing like throwing out the baby with the bath water, don’t you think? Let us hope that cooler heads prevail and we learn to utilize the language of the empirical and language of the spiritual to create a broader understanding of reality: where theology can nurture the observer, and science the observed.
In my own experience, I recall a conversation with a scientist about my belief that science and religion, like light, are the same thing, just observed differently. By his reaction, not only was he offended that I would reduce quantum physics in such cheap layperson’s terms, as a theology teacher, I obviously didn’t have the level of intelligence necessary to further the discussion. Unfortunately, his snub left me speechless. While hiding in a bathroom stall to hide my watering eyes and embarrassment, I began to wonder if, in terms of science anyway, his observations would always be superior to mine. My embarrassment turned out to be a good thing, however, because it also made me angry enough to begin yet another search for truth (OK, it also included the desire to prove him wrong—regardless of my motivation though, I did learn a thing or two).
It is sad that most people, like my conversation with the scientist, never get to fully understand how someone arrives at a certain perspective. Not everyone just pulls things out of thin air. I had spent countless hours studying and preparing for a class with the physics teacher at the high school where I taught: an investigation of theology from a scientific perspective and science from a theological perspective. What happened was something I couldn’t have predicted. From the onset it appeared as if the idea had its own agenda. When my colleague and I entered into the world of quantum physics (I still get a tingle up my spine thinking of that moment), I knew my life would never appear the same again.
In the world of quantum the observer, or the means by which “something” is observed, means everything. Its form depends on how it’s observed. For example, light can exist both as a particle or a wave, depending on how it is observed, which, until quantum physics, was considered impossible. Physicist Werner Heisenberg, gave even more importance to the observer via the uncertainty principle, which states that the exact position and velocity of a particle cannot both be known at the same time—the more precisely one value is known, the greater the range of possibilities that exist for the other. Even the act of observing something changes the reality of what is being observed. In the classical view of the universe, science taught that by eliminating subjective influences nature could be revealed as she really was. Quantum physics changed that classical viewpoint by exposing a dichotomy between experienced and un-experienced reality. The idea that the mechanism of observation could actually affect what form matter took forced science into a new paradigm, besides giving great weight to the observer.
The discovery of the wave/particle duality has taken us beyond the limitations of Newtonian physics. There are two levels of reality which can be said to exist: reality as experienced, or as it exists in relation to the observer; and reality that is un-experienced, or as it exists in the absence of an observer (sort of like the old question does a tree falling in a forest make a sound when no one is there to hear it?). Un-experienced reality, then, is reality as it exists before or beyond human experience (perhaps in a dimension beyond height, width, weight, depth and time). Un-experienced reality relates to experiential reality in that it forms the basis or context of experienced reality like an archetype or prototype. The issue that is of central importance to me is the relationship between what is experienced and what is not. Naturally, since human beings, as observers, are confined by certain dimensional and subjective limitations, it would seem obvious that the un-experienced dimension has the greater control over what we perceive. I’m not so sure of that anymore; from my theological background I know the power human beings have to be co-creators of the universe, and therefore color every experience with personal meaning. What I have begun to worry about in this age of information overload, is the effect that all the negativity and violence has on the observer. On a microscopic scale, are we turning into that priest that I talked about in the beginning? Are we killing the movie in our heads and living a life of fear and disappointment? Stay tuned.
Taming
“What is essential is invisible to the eye; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly” Antoine de Saint Exupéry.
The above quote, from “The Little Prince,” is where I root the fundamentals of friendship and has helped me harness love, especially in regard to the fragile nature of the human heart these days. The gist of the tale is this: the wood fox leads the little prince on a journey of establishing ties (friendships, the true essence of taming) which makes the prince’s ordinary rose “unique in all the world.” In the end, after the wood fox tamed the little prince and it came time for the prince’s departure, the fox was sad. The little prince could not understand the benefit of establishing ties if the result was to end in possible sadness. To help him appreciate taming despite the sadness, the fox sends the little prince back to a rose garden to try to understand how all the roses there were different from his solitary rose on his own little planet. It is in the presence of all these other roses that the little prince realizes that his rose matters more than any of the others because of the time he has spent caring for her, watering her and protecting her. It is the ties that he established with his rose that has made her so important.
The fox makes it clear to the prince that in order for taming to be successful one must observe the proper rites. In all it’s beautiful simplicity it means that taming takes time and patience. At first the fox told the little prince to sit at a distance and do nothing except to allow the fox to see him out of the corner of his eye. He explains that during this initial phase the prince should say nothing at all because words are the source of misunderstanding. Everyday the little prince was to sit a bit closer. He also told the little prince to come back at the same time everyday so that he would begin to know at which hour his heart should be ready to greet him; consistency is everything when it comes to taming.
The wood fox explains that the process of taming causes the world to appear completely different. For example, the fox had no use for the wheat field but after the prince had tamed him, the golden color of the wheat will always bring him the thought of the prince and give him joy. The fox will never see the wheat field in the same way again. It will be larger and more powerful all because he allowed himself to be tamed. The fox also can live happily because there is at least one person who truly understands him, for one can only understand someone after they’ve been tamed. After all is said and done and the little prince understands the essence of taming, the wood fox goes on to share a secret. The first part is the quote cited above, and then he continues with “it is the time you have wasted for your rose which makes her so important…you become responsible forever for what you tame.”
What is particularly poignant about this story, in this fast and furious age in which we live, is that it is the time and effort put forth that makes taming successful. The nature of today’s world certainly doesn’t endorse wasting time for anything. The wood fox in The Little Prince believed that humans didn’t understand anything anymore because they tried to buy everything ready-made at stores. However, there was no store anywhere where one could buy a true friend: friendship demands that we waste the necessary time and observe the proper rites to establish ties. As an observer, it is those that I have established ties with in this world that have helped transform how I see it. The world becomes infused with special meaning. All of us can rework the rules we choose to abide by and focus on our inner rhythm, but ultimately it is the process of being tamed and taming others that put those rules and cosmic music to practical use.
Loss, as foreshadowed in The Little Prince, is a common element in establishing ties. Because all of us are on different roads, with varied dreams, relationships often change or end. The up side to this kind of loss challenges us to spend more time reflecting on how the relationships in our lives have affected how we see a wheat field. Whenever the inevitable happens and those people I’ve established ties with begin a different journey, I’ve learned to look at it as just an opportunity for them to transform a wheat field somewhere else. Distance can’t ruin ties, only complacency does. True taming doesn’t rely on proximity.
Taming need not be complicated, but it may seem risky at first. When you put yourself out there to tame and be tamed you may be rejected. But just like the little prince did, I’ve found that if you let your heart guide you and observe the proper rites, the chances are that rejection is just an unrealized fear. Establishing ties with someone practically demands that you put the other person first. Taming someone for the sole benefit of my own needs almost guarantees failure. It should come from a place of empowering, rather than having power over. Trustworthiness is essential. Remember the last part of the wood fox’s secret: you are responsible, forever, for what you tame. Although being responsible for what you tame may seem daunting, try to see it for a moment as a beautiful consequence of the process.
Unfortunately taming, like the middle of many processes, is an often passed over step, because it takes time, it takes commitment and it takes patience. We live in an electronic age that makes everything quick, easy and often anonymous. Anonymity voids the element of responsibility, and I think it is why the ties of today are so flimsy. How we establish ties may differ with every thing, person, place in the world, but it still demands those essential rites. Regardless of the uniqueness of the method, the challenge remains: to reflect on who we have tamed in our lives and more importantly how we handle the responsibility. It is a powerful thing, this taming process, especially when it commands us to rely on our hearts more than our eyes, for eyes can play tricks whereas the heart does not (contrary to popular opinion that love is blind).
You see the thing about taming is that it is subtle, and it usually occurs over a long period of time. Those who have truly tamed me acted so subtly and consistently that I wasn’t even really conscious of it at the time, leaving me no time to run in fear. It need not be complicated and dramatic. Even though I’m just as big a fan of the being swept away themes in movies, I do realize they are only two hours long. The rest of us have lifetimes to contend with, we have to go beyond the “and they lived happily ever after” line. The work is worth it though. I feel so much better about myself and my world knowing that the relationships I’ve established (and it doesn’t have to be many) are transforming the way others see the world. I tame because I love; the responsibility then becomes a bonus and not a burden. It’s not even fathomable to me to imagine what life would be like without them. Given that life is unpredictable, I do know that even in the face of loss, life will never appear the same again. I wear them proudly like a seal on my heart. Now, before I get too verklempt, let me stop now so you may talk among yourselves.
Powerless, Part 1
I’ve been thinking a lot about power these days and how deeply I think it is misunderstood. When I am feeling most vulnerable and powerless, I look to my greatest role model, Jesus. In chapter four of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus has been in the desert without food for forty days and at this very vulnerable point the Devil comes to tempt him. Initially, the Devil goes right to the heart of the matter, Jesus’ physical needs and tempts him to use his power for personal gain, to turn a stone to bread and satiate his hunger. He refuses, and replies that we cannot live by bread alone. It is a choice between the discomfort of hunger, to which he in his heart knew to be temporary, and satiate a desire to show off his power over nature. That, to me anyway, is a pivotal point. He could have begun his ministry with pomp and circumstance of showing off the power to bend everything to his will and be glorified. But he didn’t. He chose to live and walk as a man, and never use his power for personal gain. Just because he could didn’t mean he should.
When I think of my own hunger, it manifests in many different kinds of deprivations, all that create discomfort. Recognizing that weakness is when I doubt and lose faith and look to try to get rid of the discomfort the easiest way possible, is the exact moment to reject these inclinations and follow Jesus’ lead. If I want to live like Jesus did, I must believe that these weaknesses are only temporary, and choosing be uncomfortable or embarrassed in this moment forces me to access my own true source of power, and satiate my spiritual hunger first. While that may soothe me spiritually and philosophically, I also know what it feels like to be in the presence of someone who plays on a weakness and dares me to prove that I’m not by a show of force. It is tempting to prove to them that I’m not what they say I am and at the same time punish them for exposing and taunting me about it. I’ve fallen into that temptation many times in the past and have used power just to prove I have it. I can truthfully say that I only felt weak afterwards. Avoiding that temptation to prove yourself to someone and to stand tall and not accept the bait is and always will be the greatest show of strength.
So how is the story of changing a stone to bread different from the wedding at Cana when Jesus was asked to change water into wine? In transforming the water into wine, he did it as a sign of who he was. In the desert, there was no one else there. The true source of power isn’t being able to transform a stone into bread or water into wine, but to know the power exists within to do these things first. Is it a subtle distinction? I think so. I really believe if Jesus would have allowed himself to be baited into making that bread, to prove himself, he would have lost it. In Cana, he didn’t really need to prove anything, he didn’t really want to make that transformation either, because he questioned whether was ready. He inevitably did it because his mother asked him to, that this was the moment to start his active ministry. Knowing you have the power to do something and doing it to prove you have it…is a sign of weakness. But using your power so do something and use it to bring others to a greater place is not. I’m sure that choice was always on Jesus mind. It isn’t always obvious if we use power to make ourselves look better or to help others. I struggle with that choice as a parent all the time. And in a time of muscle flexing and sand pissing…i.e., “my God is better than yours”, or “my political beliefs are right and yours are wrong”, or “Money buys power” etc.etc., that struggle becomes all the more difficult. We all need to entertain the possibility in any power struggle whether or not we are taking the devils bait.
Chillin
It’s been busy, and hard
…all the more reason to slow down and take a moment to breathe on this memorial weekend. Although there is so much to be done, as you can see by the sagging door by our pool, a casualty of a felled tree struck by lightning, it is important to stop every once in a while and breathe in and out and relax. The world will continue to spin on its’ axis even if we don’t finish every chore. The world does go on, even after loved ones have passed. This weekend I resolve to only let positive memories guide and sustain me. Have a safe and relaxing weekend!
Simple Moments
In the midst of a frenzied few weeks, when breathing into a paper bag is my stress reliever, I have tried really hard to FOCUS…(the caps are me, telling myself to focus right now at this very moment because even in writing about focus, I seem to lose it). Anyway, there are many lifetime events swirling around me right now: death, new driver, graduation, major home projects, none of which has sent me over the edge. I tell myself that I’m handling them like a trooper. Except not really. So what threw me over the edge? Taking out my warm weather clothing, only to realize that while my psyche may have withstood the longest winter EVER, my body has not. Nothing fits. Stomping around like a 14-year-old didn’t make me feel any better, especially since I only felt winded. Finally getting back to the gym this week only validated what poor shape I’m in. And while body consciousness is usually irrelevant in my day-to-day musings, today it is LOOMING AT ME LIKE OBNOXIOUS WORDS ALL CAPS. Do you know how hard it is to suck in your stomach when you’re doing planks, or how disconcerting it is when your boobs bump into your gut rendering it almost impossible to complete a crunch? I tell myself, that this too will pass, that my butt will be back where it’s supposed to be in no time at all. I will face all these major changes in life with a body that is as tight as my spirit. Right?
While my momentary body consciousness may be the expression of the challenges I’ve faced as of late, I think the root of my anxiety lies in the fact that while I am fine with life moving forward, I am not always fine with how well or effectively I’ve lived thus far. Note, that this statement comes from that guilt ridden, Irish Catholic school girl inside me who will never be satisfied with how well I’ve done anything until I’ve earned a feast day. But as life will have it, something extraordinary happened. While Steve and I were bickering about which depressingly expensive pool liner we were going to purchase to replace the one that lived 3 years beyond its life span, the young man behind the counter asked me my name…(to which Steve used this momentary distraction to vacate, to make his tee-time) when I told him, he smiled and said, “You were my teacher at Holy Angels” It was lovely to catch up, but even more so that he actually remembered some things that I said in class that stuck with him. A simple moment, but remarkable given the funk I was in. It was nice to know that I did make an impact on a life. Sometimes it’s just nice to know. We should all be better at letting others know how they’ve impacted our lives. I know I will.
And So it Goes
The stasis is over. Steve and I were present when his father, John Edling made that solitary journey to the Kingdom of God. As sacred as those moments of passing can be, it wasn’t without a desperate feeling of finality. John loved life and frankly just didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to miss a thing and I feel that he wanted to share the journey with all of us. I can only imagine his joy when he saw the legions of people waiting for him to arrive, his father and uncle and his champion basketball team and countless others. The stories and the laughter and reminiscing has no limit there as well as the joy of being in a body that was no longer broken. He can watch over all of us without pain and now has a bird’s eye view to all the comings and goings on in the lives of those he loved…because for those of us who knew him, he always had to know what was going on. His love is transcendent now and I know he will always be watching over my sons when they get behind the wheel of a car, or are nervous, afraid or need a helping hand. So he was in life, so now even more in heaven. I know he worried about things he may have failed at in his life, but his children and wife all did such an exceptional job of reminding him of the color and largess of his life and that brought him peace. I also appreciate so deeply the care he received at Christian Community Home in Osceola, Wisconsin. They too noticed how much he was loved by the constant trail of people in and out of his room to offer their love and support. He led a full life, a remarkable life, a life that is tightly and subtly woven into the fabric of the lives of many others. He will be missed, yet always loved.
Time
As reflected by the weather…time seems to be at a standstill for me, leaving me with a bit of whiplash since it usually speeds by so fast I never seem to be able to keep up…even with good shoes. When a particular moment in history is difficult, it feels like the clock will never move again. I am stuck at an impasse. Mother Nature shares my sympathies, given the late April snow storm we had yesterday and oddly, it gives me comfort, allowing me to stand still for a moment and try to catch my breath. As I stood in my yard yesterday morning at the crack of dawn, I tried to recognize the beauty and peace of the moment and stifle the growing frustration at the circumstances of my life right now. Even in the cold, when the exit of winter is long over due and stubbornly forces the entrance of spring into stasis, I find peace in the stalemate. While I am anxious for new life to begin in the resurrection of spring, I pause to reflect on springs past and pull out memories that have given me strength to move ahead into the warmth of spring.
The Shoes of Boston
Literally moments after I published “Step by Step”, I became aware of the tragedy in Boston. While I am still walking in my shoes here in Wisconsin, I immediately asked myself what new steps I could take to appease the horror of what happened. So I want to point out the many shoes of the Saints of Boston, who used their shoes to bring help, comfort, hope, healing and many more unbelievable qualities to those affected by the bomb at the marathon. The response of what happened after the tragedy is proof positive that good does outweigh evil. The evil actions of one can not quell the goodness of the many, that is the most important memory I want to take away from this tragedy. Hopefully it will be what the rest of the world sees as well…that we are not the axis of evil that our enemies portray us to be, but strong, brave and compassionate human beings. America is defined by those people who ran to the victims and offered their help. Our pride is reflected in the eyes of those people who stood together singing our National Anthem at the Bruins game. That is the America that I want to stand up and get noticed…not a blood lust for revenge.
While it is understandable to feel rage after being bombarded over and over again with news of violence, like those Saints in Boston we have to hold on to that same source of goodness that drove them so we don’t let vengeance rule the day. In all truthfulness, I am disgusted by some of the idiotic commentary on social media escalating the blood lust for retribution or even linking our president or the government to the growing tide of violence that has swept our country. I am tired of anger, paranoia and panic being the exemplifying qualities that define America. We are better and stronger than that. When we let the few who have committed heinous acts intensify our distrust of one another, then we accept defeat. I would venture to say most Americans are like those Saints in Boston and it is the voice of those reasonable people who must guide us forward…not those that feed our fear of the government and each other. Grieving belongs to us, vengeance belongs to God.
I pray for peace and justice, for reasonable and level heads to move us forward. As always, first and foremost, I pray that we champion love.
Step by Step
These are my shoes…kind of quirky, kind of fun. You can design your own on the Adidas website. I had my name added, not because I was living in fear that someone would steal them, (although they are cool), but as a reminder that it is my feet that are walking this path. I am the one putting one foot in front of the other, or standing still, or even on the occasion walking backward. These are my shoes, no one else’s. Only I can get myself where I need to go. It’s true that at times, others have given me direction, cleared obstacles and smoothed the way and some have even put obstacles in my path to trip me up…but I am responsible for how I move forward. Regardless of what is ahead, I can choose to dance or drag my feet. I can stomp my feet in a tantrum at the unfairness of it all or simply let it go and run forward as fast as I can. I am the only thing that can stop me. When I allow chatter like “You can’t do that”, or “You’re not worthy” to impede my steps, I can’t blame anyone but me. No one can limit me, but me. The intent of the universe is for each of us to achieve our highest purpose.
This is underlined even more for me as a woman of faith. When God is for me, who can be against me? The boon of spiritual assistance gives me no excuse. As I look to my future and I walk in my shoes, I remember that blame will stop me in my tracks, and will never get me where I need to go, as will lending an ear to those who want me to fail. I walk in my shoes…no one else. While my journey may be a singular affair, the upswing is that I don’t have to walk alone. I can choose companions to walk along side me, which does abate the loneliness of my life’s adventure. I’m better now than when I was younger at avoiding those who slowed me down or confused my sense of direction, yet I still have to remind myself once in a while when it is time to move out of a crowd and forge ahead on my own. And while my journey may include walking in step with fools at times, there are many times in hindsight where I realize that I myself was the fool. I am thankful for those angels God put in my path when it was most needed, and I hope I’ve been an angel to others in their time of need too.
My steps may not be as quick as they used to be and my shoes have taken on a more practical nature, but I embrace the adventure of every new day…I forge on happily, just me and my shoes.
Agony
I’ve been working on a dramatic piece called “Stations” about Jesus’ final walk to Golgotha for a while now, and it’s had many incarnations. Lately, though, I keep coming back to the agony Jesus felt in the Garden of Gethsemane before the culmination of his great act of sacrifice. How deep was the agony he felt that it would cause him to sweat blood, to panic so deeply, that even after all his miracles and raising Lazarus from the dead, he asked his Father to release him at the last-minute? So, as I often do, I prayed to God for some insight into those few hours underneath the tree…and this is what came to mind. Music is part of my process, and this piece in particular from Eric Whitacre peeled away much of what I was afraid to see, invoking such grief and deep emotion that I was almost too embarrassed to write this post. So I add it as a context, while you read that hopefully it will add a dimension to my words.
I see a solitary figure under a tree, with sleeping men laying a short distance away. His loneliness is palpable and He prays out to His Father for assistance and comfort. An angel appears and quietly sits beside him, and I draw closer. The solemnity of the angels’ presence is palpable, his tone somber as he speaks to Jesus. What transpires between them is an understanding of what is about to happen in the next few days, that agony has begun. The angel shows Jesus the sinfulness of humanity throughout the ages and his fury grows blinding hot, more than he ever did at the scribes and pharisees, or any other behavior we have witnessed thus far. In his rage, he turns away and tells the angel that perhaps humanity is beyond saving. The thought of sacrificing himself for such an abomination is unbearable to him. The angel than takes his hand and shows him the victims of that sin…the beauty of God’s creation destroyed in the darkest and most heinous fashion and then racked in anger and despair he begs his Father to release him from drinking from this cup.
I try to empathize with Jesus, and though I haven’t seen all that the angel has shown him, I hope I have seen enough evil in my life to maybe create a speck of understanding. Who would die for them? The angel then turns to me and brings Jesus attention to where I am standing. Up until this point I am an unknown presence, a simple voyeur watching a play. As I am drawn in, fear wells up inside, I am exposed…in all my fallibility it is me that Jesus sees now in his deepest agony. The angel points to me and says…”It is for her that you must bear this burden, so that she might live.” Jesus turns to me and immediately the anguish in his face dissipates for a moment and he sees me, purely, flaws and all. I am no longer an insignificant one of millions who is graced because of something that happened 2000 years ago. I am removed from that safety of history and stand right before him, weak and pathetic. The angel wants me to be the reason that he follows through with what will be the most painful, demoralizing and fearful moments of his life. Completely shocked and appalled and before I can run away to avoid the guilt of being the reason for his pain he turns to heaven and says “Father, let your will be done.” He turns to me resolved and with such eyes of love that I fall on the ground weeping. I scream at him, “Don’t make me the reason, I am not worth going through what you about to go through.” I fall with the weight of this realization clear in my heart to the ground…the phrase “He died for my sins” blaring into my head, and I am unable in that raw moment to safely intellectualized anything. My soul in broken, I see that now.
Jesus pulls me up, and the moment I look into his eyes, my burden is lifted and the weight of my sins are gone. In an instant, I know that it wasn’t only just my face that he saw but every face seen singularly, yet all at once. His appearance becomes a bit heavier and darker and I understand the transference of my sins and all whose eyes he gazed upon has begun. The aura of his purity is blackened…I know now that it will be easy for him to be handed over for crucifixion. The blackness of our sin becomes like a cloak…hiding his true nature by reflecting back to those that gaze upon him their own sinfulness. Magnified by a millennium of sin I see now how they can hate him. Every Good Friday service, at the part in the story when the crowd screams “crucify him!”, I am certain I would have stood up to the crowd and fought for him. Now, seeing him with the weight of that darkness, I don’t think I could. It is so easy to hate the sin worn by others, when we can’t see it in ourselves.
My once broken soul has been made whole by his sacrifice, the cloak of my sin is gone. The light of his grace can shine unfettered and bring healing to the world. It can shine through me if I choose to be his instrument of love and peace. And as often as I may fail, this visit to the garden will inspire me to keep trying…every day until I die.
DOMA
This one is hard for me. Not because I have trouble voicing my opinion…but because this issue is so rooted in fear and hatred of the gay community. Strip away all the rhetoric and what is left is fear at its weakest and hatred at its strongest, neither of which is an acceptable motivation in my book. Scripture teaches that the opposite of love is fear, so that is where I stand first and foremost. Regardless of where anyone of you stand on the issue at this moment, which is a freedom richly fought for and celebrated in this country, level heads must prevail…which is easier said than done. I know that. I’m not the one fighting for my self-respect. What I do know, is that I have many dear and beautiful friends who are gay whom I see as naturally no different from any of the other dear and beautiful heterosexual friends I have. Sexual orientation isn’t something I even recognize so by extension regarding love, marriage and children I see no difference. Period. Except I know that in society there is one. I know social media is rife with profile picture changes and scripture quotations making a clear unwavering stand for their positions on the issue. So how do we come together? We talk, we discuss, we challenge old judgments and work together, and for my part as a Christian…work together as the body of Christ.
When I hear people quote Scripture as an indictment against homosexuality, I wince. Most often because the words are taken literally out of history and out of context. For example, I did question someone when they quoted the first chapter of Romans to me about the literal word of God, but balked when I challenged them on their view on gun control. Jesus did tell us to love our enemies and turn our swords into plowshares after all. I really wasn’t trying to be a smart ass…really I wasn’t. I did want to support the notion that it is dangerous when you use scripture to justify a bias literally on one issue and disregard it in the next. I also challenge all of you who use Romans 1:24-32 to continue reading to the next chapter where Paul admonishes people for judging…you will be judged by the same measure with which you judge others. Never mind that Paul in the first chapter was talking about the state of Rome under Nero, after the edict of Claudius expelled all Jews and converted Jews out of Rome…that he feared for converted Gentiles who lived there that they were falling into old pagan practices. Never mind that the wickedness that Paul lays out in verses 29-31 could describe any one of us…so to heap all those horrible qualities on just gay people is ridiculous…period. I also believe that to take Jesus words in Matthew as an indictment against gay people is just short of blasphemy… yeah, I said it. Jesus was being tested by the pharisees about divorce as a means to find something to use against him, as they often did. Jesus spoke to the hardness of the people themselves as a reason for divorce. He went on to make sacred a union that in his time was often unfair to women, who had no voice, were considered chattel, and who could be dismissed by her husband if the marriage was unsatisfactory. To use the beauty of a verse that celebrates love into a tool that indicts gay people renders its message void, especially since the verses that follow have Jesus blessing the children, entering the kingdom of God by loving God and your neighbor as yourself and concluding with how hard it is for a rich man to get into heaven. It’s curious how few take the verse “Go and sell all you have and follow me” literally…not that I would either, I’m just saying.
Jesus spent his whole ministry challenging the notion that we get to pick and choose who we love, and who we should treat with respect. He spent his time with those whom society rejected and he often berated those that held positions of esteem…because it is wrong to use position and power to keep others out. He is the corner-stone whom the builders rejected. He championed our eternal destiny by bearing our flaws. I can’t help but think, as Easter our most sacred day comes near, that we do him a dishonor when we focus more on judgement than we do championing love. Love, as I’ve stated before is so much bigger and more powerful than our limited comprehension of it. When it comes right down to it as Paul goes on to say in Romans…”There will be joy, honor and peace for everyone who does good…there is no partiality with God.”
The Naked Truth
So, what does perfection look like? The dictionary defines it, in part, as the full growth or development of anything, or a completed state. So beyond all the traditional trappings…I ask this question, “Given that God is perfect what does God look like? Avoiding the easy traps of artists portrayals, I start with the old testament when God was always shrouded somehow, because to look upon God physically meant certain death. The metaphor that came to me as I was struggling to find something completely unique, was that of God as a flasher–God revealing the deeper realities of life, for God’s pleasure, and our limited ability to see God in full glory. NOW WAIT INTERNET, DO NOT FREAK OUT, KEEP WITH ME FOR JUST A MINUTE! I have waited for enough time after writing this draft to validate that I have not caught on fire, I have not turned to stone and my head hasn’t turned all the way around once…so just bare with me, if God’s OK with it, so should you. First of all, the reason I use the flasher image is that God has been clothed in so many different layers over the centuries, it’s about time to challenge many of these historical notions. So when all the layers are stripped away, what do we have left? I don’t have that answer yet, but and this is a big one, BUT I certainly had to ask this question first? Am I willing to see God naked?
Culturally, nakedness is far more associated with sexuality and porn than personal knowledge and perfection. The kind of exposure from someone who reveals themselves out of pleasure without being asked to do so is not only uncomfortable, many times it is a criminal offense. Perhaps it is our discomfort and limited capacity for understanding perfection that God chooses to show us only so much at a time. It can be more than a little daunting to entertain the possibility that many of the fundamental assumptions we have about God are really ill-fitting costumes that not only hide, but distort God’s very essence. I say this, in part, because if we were so clear about God’s true nature, wouldn’t our world be in a much better place? So let’s go back to before being naked was an indecent thing.
According to the book of Genesis, when Eve, then Adam ate from the tree of knowledge, bringing sin into paradise, they recognized their nakedness, tried to cover themselves up and hid from God. Note that being naked was a good thing until they sinned and they began to see themselves differently as a result. It certainly doesn’t imply that being naked was intrinsically a bad thing does it? We are created in God’s image, after all…free of any wardrobe malfunctions. Isn’t it more likely that the need to cover ourselves up as a result of recognizing our imperfection naturally flows to why we try to cover up God as well; we don’t want the constant reminder of how imperfect we really are. History certainly says so, for Christians anyway, look how humanity treated Jesus. If we are truly created in the image of God, and by our own choice moved away from that image, it seems to make sense that in order to discover God’s true nature we deal with our own nakedness…and the neurosis that comes with it first.
Looking at my own naked flesh is mixed with many different emotions. At my age it is impossible avoid gravity, period. I will never resemble those beautiful women in the magazines, and I guess I’m OK with that, but sadly, though, I never thought my body would ever resemble one of those prehistoric fertility goddess figurines comprised of sagging breasts and a marsupial like stomach either…and while spanks work miracles, they do have to come off some time. But at the same time, this body of mine has survived breaks, falls, injuries, childbirth, dancing, and the many things I have done for God…all that comes with living life. Our bodies are the empirical evidence of all that we have seen and experienced. So why is it that we worship bodies that bear no reflection of the greater lessons in life? Isn’t it true that most supermodels hit their peak before the reach the age of majority? Why focus on a blank canvas, or a body free of experience? I truly believe that God’s true nature is probably closer to the reflection most people see of themselves in the mirror–a body worn with experience. Let’s go back to the definition of perfection…the full growth or development of anything, a completed state. A life lived fully, should be seen as closer to being perfect than running away from it through growth hormones, plastic surgery or the other myriad of ways we try to look younger. I’m not saying that we allow ourselves to waste away, our bodies are temples after all…but the obsession with youth has to stop, especially since it sends an unfair message to young people that their bodies are the standard to which all perfection should be measured. Would I go back to the perky body I used to have? Ah, now therein lies the rub…the temptation would be great, but seriously no, I would not. I think I would focus on all the wrong things. As much as I struggle with aging, it is a natural part of coming to completion…and it is up to me, with the help of God to figure out how to wrap my head around it. Perhaps, it will mean for me that I am one step closer to seeing God.
Prophet in the Conclave
My son asked me if you have to be a priest to be pope…The answer is no. Even I could be chosen, and while there is a greater chance of hell freezing over, I wouldn’t. But I might accept the challenge to teach those cardinals a few things. If I were to give an intro to Prophets class…it would start like this:
Lesson One: Taking the First Step
To be a true prophet, you don’t need a pedigree…in anything. You do, however, need to say this prayer: “Honoring all the talents I’ve been given, take me down the path I need to go to fulfill my greatest purpose in life and in turn I will promise to keep walking despite the fear that wells up in my throat, the overwhelming feelings of inadequacy that I may face and the desire to give into the temptation to run in the opposite direction.” If you can say those words then you are ready. Please note, however, that once you say them…God will take you at your word. Changing your mind is not an option.
Lesson Two: What is a Prophet?
The Oxford English Dictionary defines a prophet as the inspired or accredited spokesman, proclaim-er or preacher of some principle, cause or movement. A prophet is one who speaks for God as the inspired reveal-er or interpreter of divine will; one who is held or (more loosely) who claims to have this function; an inspired or quasi-inspired teacher. No where does it say that a prophet must have any greater handle on the truth or is better suited for it than anyone else. You must see a truth, be inspired by it and believe that it is God who is the source of that truth. What separates the prophet from a charlatan or someone of feeble mind? Nothing. Only time, commitment to the truth, and complete surrender to the divine will can keep you on the right path.
Lesson Three: What is Truth?
Is truth absolute? If it is, our human limitations probably keep us from fully comprehending it. Is the color blue still blue in the dark? Because color is dependent on light and the reflection and absorbtion of its waves to produce a color in the spectrum, perhaps it’s substance exists only in the realm of potential until light shines upon it. Truth, like color, depends on exposure to the light in the same way. The first challenge of a true prophet is to shed light into the darkest places in their lives. Sometimes the greatest truths lie hidden along side those things we try to bury in darkness. Before you begin this journey of exposure, let me comfort you by saying that things are far less frightening or threatening once you see them in the light.
Lesson Four: Excremental Vision
Once light shines exposes your personal environment, you may be shocked. Life is not as clean and neat as one might expect. Initially, it may be a shock to see how one can live a midst such apparent filth. Life, however, is messy, as is growth. Embracing the fact that “shit happens” to everyone and it is a normal part of anyone’s journey is essentially the first step in understanding it’s importance in allowing the truth to take root and flourish in your life. Growth cannot occur in a sterile environment Dirt is essential, as well as fertilizer. The richest and most natural source? Manure. The simple decision to learn from the “shit” that is present in your life is what determines whether it will help you grow or turn you toxic. A prophet uses everything that happens to enrich their truth.
Lesson Five: A Bitter Pill
When you go through the often difficult process of uncovering and embracing a truth, you may have a tendency to tell everyone you know. In your zealous enthusiasm, you may want to strip illusion from the eyes of everyone you love, show them the error of their ways, and challenge them to change. But when you deprive them of the process, truth can be nothing but a bitter pill. Not everyone is ready to let go of illusion and face the truth. Many people may even be angry with you for judging how they live their lives…even though you both know it could stand improvement. The most effective prophet allows themselves to be transformed by truth, and then lives it. Talking about it is often too confusing. When others see the transformation in you and desire the same transformation, then it is time to talk…and yet whether or not they choose to follow the process is still up to them. A prophet is only as effective as the truth they live.
Lesson Six: Once you know, you never unknow a truth
After the initial freedom of embracing a truth, there is often a period of time when you may look back with nostalgia at life shrouded in illusion. It may appear simpler and easier in many ways. This is absolutely normal. Elevating one’s reality brings change to every aspect of life. The brain is forced to work in a completely new and different way. The best way to handle this change is to free fall into it. The phrase, let go and let God is a necessity during this period…as well as remembering the prayer you recited at the beginning of this process. Don’t fight the changes that truth brings and the transition will be easier. You will also be better prepared to face what is to come.
Lesson Seven: The Essential Nature of Things
Once you begin living in higher definition, it may become easy to judge others who live with less clarity as stupid or having little to offer you on your journey. WRONG! Everyone and everything that crosses your path is an essential element on your journey. A wise prophet understands that the big picture is comprised of smaller, seemingly insignificant pieces. Even the darkest of characters can provide an opportunity to share the light of truth. Embrace each person or event as the greatest gift. Gratitude builds hope. Hope illuminates what comes next.
This concludes first series…since I’m sure we’ll see black smoke this evening…stay tuned.
Regarding Jonah and the Non-prodigal son
I don’t know if it is God’s great humor or the hubris of Jonah that resulted in my isolation in the belly of my own metaphorical whale, but sans the fish smell it was no less cramped, dark, and completely uncomfortable. When it comes to the non-prodigal son and Jonah, I can completely sympathize with their tendency to mope over a last-minute save. Today, they are my brethren. Granted, I may be speaking in the voice of that petulant child that roars her ugly head once in a while, but the feeling of putting my ninja on and wreaking havoc on all the vipers and hypocrites and evil doers even has my rational, old soul, adult self jumping on board. I am tired of bad people getting away with bad things and coming to Jesus to make it all right. I wish omniscience was one of my super powers so I would have the ability to distinguish between who has really learned the hard lessons and has changed their ways and the liars who just pretend to. Then I could spontaneously combust the wolves with my Darth Vader like stare. But alas, that would make me no better than they are, focused so outwardly on the sins of others that I can’t see my own. I did despair a bit at this awareness because Jesus has taught me to keep forgiving the bastards seventy times seventy….which is how I ended up inside my whale. My internal rantings began to the tune of “Walking the Line” and all the difficulties that come with that when there are so many who appear to reap benefits from not only walking far away from the line but taunt the rest of us who do…only to descend even deeper to conclude with a chorus of “nana nana booboo” while I visualized the evil doers being herded off a cliff somewhere. The echo of all that whining bouncing off the blubber of my internal whale became so deafening that I told my internal petulant child that enough was enough already. The descent into emotional and spiritual retardation, became an invitation to revisit why it is I choose to live by a higher moral imperative anyway. It isn’t because I believe that I get to go to heaven, or avoid a heavy karmic backlash. Truly, I believe it is because it makes the most sense to me. Choosing a path of love demands certain behaviors laid out for me in the New Testament. Jesus did prescribe a way to live in the world that will build the Kingdom of God and in order to get out of the belly of the whale I had to figure out that holding others accountable is God’s job and not mine. The phrase, “it’s not fair” is wiped from my lexicon. That is not to say that I won’t continue to fight for justice, rather, I will trust that Jesus’ great gift is very much alive and well even when it appears that the line isn’t even visible anymore. I have learned a great lesson these past days and have regain a greater peace.