I’m going to take another day or two to reflect some more on the confirmation process that I’m currently taking part in at St. Barnabas.
There is a term that has been floating around for a few years now. That term is “Welcoming.” Most of us use it to describe a person or place where anyone, regardless of who they are, what they think, what color their skin is or what gender they describe themselves as. It has become almost a password for progressives. I can imagine someone walking up the the door in a 1920s speakeasy. The little port opens and a burly face with heavy eyebrows and a square chin looks out. “Welcoming,” whispers the person on the outside. The burly-guy then opens the door. The correct password was given.
And, for the most part, it’s really easy to say that we’re welcoming.
Especially, for churches.
I’ve been to churches where the priest or pastor stands in front, arms wide open and a big smile on their face as the proclaim, “Of course, we welcome LGBTQs here! I would love for them to come!” Unspoken is, “So we can show them the love of Christ by pointing out what filthy, wretched sinners they are. Hallelujah!”
But, welcoming is not enough, I think. Not nearly.
I think that something is bigger than that. And, far more difficult. Something that comes closer to how Jesus, himself, treated people.
That is Acceptance.
Let me explain. We can welcome a gay man into our group or fellowship. That’s really the easy part. Especially, if he doesn’t try to spread his gay cuties around. But, can we accept that gay man, who is married, as our priest and pastor? How about the divorced woman who was abused in her church? Can we accept her? Are we able to accept her pain as our own and allow ourselves to heal with her in our community? Can we accept her and the gifts that God has given her to be a fellow-worker in God’s garden with us? What of the person who struggles with emotional or psychological stresses? We surely can welcome such a person so that he may find comfort and healing. Right? But, can we accept such a one as a peer who is loved and gifted by the same Holy Spirit as we?
It’s easy to welcome and accept people who look, act, and think as we do. “But, how does that make us any different than the pagan?”, Jesus asks.
I am glad that I am both welcomed and accepted at St. Barnabas. I am ever so much more glad that St. Barnabas is becoming, not only welcoming, but accepting.
Last night was the first of six confirmation classes at St. Barnabas. Eleven of us showed up for Episcopalian lessons. I was excited to be getting on with this. As I’ve written before, St. Barnabas is becoming a community where the Love of God is beginning to blossom and bloom.
As the class began we were all asked to share a bit about who we are and why we were at this particular church. As we went around the room, each telling snippets of their personal journeys of faith, I was impressed with the diversity present. There are women, men, young-ish, older, high church, low church, and everything in between. Some were open and vocal. Others, reserved and quietly present. Some of us came out of churches where toxic theology ate at our souls. Others are simply seeking a place to call “home.”
One thing that we all seemed to share was a desire to be a part of a living, welcoming, diverse, and inclusive community where God’s love is openly shared with all.
Is that St. Barnabas?
Well…Maybe.
This church is currently still in transition. She is searching for her identity in the larger Body of Christ. After all, this church has fairly recently gone through a major upheaval brought on by previous leadership. Upheaval that was painful and steeped in theological error. Many people suffered…A Lot…because of the actions of those who were entrusted with the care of these people.
Fortunately, the leaders of the diocese were wise enough to provide emergency medical care to this parish. Over a period of several years they supported those few who were left behind after that messy split. They appointed interim leadership who provided the necessary treatment to stabilize the church. A bit over a year ago a new Priest was called to help the community, now stable, to work to become healthy. That’s where we are now. A diverse, some may say Rag Tag, group of people who desire to live with one another and serve one another and the larger community in which we live. We are people with scars and hurts and histories that would make the best fantasy novel seem like Dr. Seuss. We are learning. And, if we eleven who are beginning the journey in Confirmation class are an indication of the direction in which God is leading, well, let’s just say that this journey will be good.
Well, tonight I begin the official process of becoming an Episcopalian. I have been attending a local parish for a bit over a year. I had promised myself that I would spend a full year before making this leap. Over the course of that year I found a place to call ‘Home.’ I was kind of surprised to find the lively Presence of God there. I had come to this church with no expectations, really. I was simply looking for a liturgical church that I could show up to on Sundays. And, go back home on Sundays. I knew that I would find Life in the Eucharist. There was no doubt about that. My own faith would carry me through that. But, what I found was something well beyond my meager expectations. I found a place where God seems OK with hanging out. The people, simple folk, really seem to love each other. They even seem to LIKE each other! Yeah! Go figure! Right? So, tonight I, and several others, are beginning Confirmation classes. Really. Confirmation classes. Just like I went through when I was, what? 13? Fortunately, everyone tonight will be adult.
Is this a lifetime commitment? I don’t know. But, for now, St. Barnabas will be my home. I’m kind of excited about it. It’s a new experience for me.
I mentioned in other posts that I’m trying to get to know myself a wee bit better. Emotions; passions; the hidden bits and pieces that we human folks work so hard to keep locked up. I don’t know why this has become something of a necessary project with me. Perhaps, the effort of keeping the beasties at bay is just becoming to tiring for me.
We all do it. It’s nothing new. Bill Shakespeare wrote in the play As You Like It, “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players…” If we’re honest with ourselves, we KNOW that’s absolutely true.
The ancient Greeks used masks in their dramas to indicate, not only who the character was, but also what kind of character it was.
We still do this today.
As I sat this morning in prayer, I talked to Yahweh about this. I said, “This is me.” Then, quoting the great sage Popeye, I told God, “I am what I am, and that’s all that I am.” Then, I told God, “It’s Yours. All the darkness and the beasties that are within.”
Now, such confession is well-known in Churchy circles. Folks beat their breasts and cry out to the Void, “O, Lord! I am a Sinner! Please forgive me and take my life for Your Glory!” Or, something like that.
These folks then get to make some new masks. Masks of piety and righteousness. Masks that allow them to communicate spiritual-sounding platitudes while concealing the reality.
The Beasties still live.
But, the masks allow us to appear as something we really aren’t. We can say, “It’s not about the money at all. It’s about the Ministry!“ Or, “God gave me this book so that He can use it for His Glory!” (Whatever that really means.) I could go on and on and on, ad nauseum. But, I’m sure that you get the point.
We are, for the most part, False.
Let that sink in for a moment.
In virtually all of our social dealings, we put on personas that we think will fool those around us and portray as as ‘good’ and ‘virtuous.’ Hell, no one want to appear in negative light! It’s human nature!
And, it keeps the peace and allows us to actually interact with one another without strangling each other. So, masks do serve a social purpose, I guess.
Where the real rub lies, though, is when we actually start to believe that what the masks portray is the true reality.
I’m not a selfish S.O.B.! Look, I deny my own needs every single day! I am “Altruistic Man”! Yippee!
Not only do we delude ourselves, we try to delude God.
(Spoiler Alert: God’s not fooled.)
Yet, we continue to think that if God just gives us an injection of Holy Spirit we will, in fact, become that other person. We believe that somewhere deep down inside there really is a Divine spark that will transform us into a person saturated with and dripping with Godly virtue.
Not happening, is it?
I mean, when we take off the mask we’re still ourselves. Aren’t we? We’re still selfish and carnal and angry and, and, and…
We are not going to become anything that we have not always been.
Human.
And, that’s OK!
God never asked us to become “Virtue Person,” or “Spiritual Person.”
We are asked to be honest. With ourselves. With others. With God. Because, God loves us as we are. Dirt under our fingernails and everything. We have no reason to hide. No need to be anything other than who we are. Period.
Maybe, we should all just sit back and get to know ourselves. To accept and love ourselves.
Over the years I’ve heard a lot, read a lot, and generally had ideas about the so-called Spiritual Disciplines swirling around me like a swarm of mosquitoes. Yeah, I chose that metaphor purposefully. The voices from Church leaders and non-leaders have been little more than a buzz in my ears with the occasional blood-sucking bite on the neck. (Vampire bugs!) Richard Foster and his rather vacuous 1978 book “Celebration of Discipline” was a mainstay for so many. In the circles I was involved with, that book was pretty much used to shame us. It gave leaders another cudgel to condemn us. None of us could follow all that Foster wrote. Yet, when we failed we were reminded of how none of us were either strong enough or committed enough to perform even Foster’s simple exercises.
As I got older and gained more experience I began to understand that people can’t just ‘decide’ to ‘will’ their way into practices that allow the kind of practices that Foster and others prescribed. At best, then, these books and resources provide folks with a variety of practices that people have found useful over the years. They could offer us the ingredients, just not the recipes.
I found that only God’s own gravity of Grace can draw people into that orbit where that thing called Spiritual Formation takes place. No amount of self-will or self-discipline can move our hearts even a millimeter in that direction.
Once God does act, however, almost anything can become a Spiritual Practice that leads to new experiences. Experiences that enlarge hearts and create empathy. Experiences that bring freedom to speak freely to God without fear or timidity.
That brings me to the point of all of these words today.
I want to introduce a new Spiritual Practice. Well, I’m sure it’s not new. But, I don’t recall ever hearing about it.
It’s called “Argument.” Or, if you want, call it “Disagreement.”
With whom am I talking about Arguing with?
Well, God, of course. Who else?
That may sound strange. So many of us have been taught that God is all-knowing and, most importantly, ALWAYS right. For these people the idea of arguing with God is akin to heresy and is a fast-track to finding oneself in Hell. I feel kind of sorry for people who think this. Their god is too small. I mean, think about it. If God is Who we have been taught, you know, Supreme Being and all of that, do you think that this God could possibly be threatened or offended by our puny human arguments? Don’t think too hard about that. The correct answer in “No.”
There are precedents in the Bible. Abraham seemed to argue, well at least tried to ‘bargain,’ with God in that little matter of Sodom. Job tried to argue with God over his perceived wrong treatment. Jeremiah argued that he was unfit for the calling that God had for him. Shoot, Jesus argued with the Father in Gethsemane. “Father, please, don’t make me drink from this cup!” Now, in all of these, God’s side of things was ultimately followed.
That’s not the point I want to make.
I want to make and argument for, well, arguing!
And, that, as a Spiritual practice that can open us up to receive more of God’s Grace and Presence.
I’ve had many disagreements with the way I perceive God’s hand in my life. Like so many, I tried to stuff these feelings by believing that because I am just a human I must be wrong. “Not my will, but Yours, O God” is the mantra we’re taught to repeat.
I’m sorry, but that response is just so inadequate on so many levels. It makes the assumption that humans are little more than toddlers who have no idea what might be good and helpful. I makes God into a benevolent dictator who may or may not tolerate our perceived insolence. Both of those assumptions are categorically wrong. We are Ikons of God who carry within us the very image of God. We are fellow workers who are entrusted with the Stewardship of this world in which we live. Hardly toddlers. God may be benevolent, but God is No dictator. The whole idea of Free Will puts the lie to that.
Ok, so what? What does that have to do with argument and Spiritual Formation?
Everything!!
It reveals that we are taken seriously by God. God Listens! When I argue with God it implies that there are two voices interacting. No argument is one-sided by definition. So, I ‘hear’ God’s voice. That voice may rebut. That happens with regularity. Sometimes, though, the voice says, “About time you thought of that!” God seems to actually enjoy it when we use our brains to work through an argument and come to the correct and logical conclusion!
More importantly, I feel, is that when we feel free enough to argue with God, God is pleased. Our relationship is confirmed. Not as equals or even peers. But, as two parties in lively engagement. Some of the most intimate experiences I’ve had with God have been in the midst of real Knock-down, drag-out bouts of In-Your_Face disagreement.
In the end, I feel that God has honored me by engaging with me on a deep, visceral plane. And, I think God is pleased that I am not simply willing to be dragged along a willing fool.
So, yeah, I think that Argument can be listed among Spiritual Practices that Christ-followers should embrace. We should not fear to offend God. Nor, should we simply acquiesce to things that we think are unjust or simply wrong. God is not that dismissive Father who says, “Shaddup, Kid!” No, God seems to desire that we learn to BE intelligent fellow-workers in the Cosmos.
Walking on a path through the woods, Eyes focused on the trail of macadam Before me. Mind fixed on the gold ring. Butterfly! Eyes divert and feet follow. Row upon row of towering pillars, Deep into colonnade of Oak and Elm. Where was I going? Oh, Yes! Now, I remember. The Path! Trudge over rocks and fallen bole, How far from grabbing the prize! All for the fleeting beauty of a butterfly.
I wrote this little verse that pretty much describes my own life. I am easily distracted from the path that I’m called to follow. Something as lovely, yet fleeting, as a butterfly or a person or another project can so easily draw me away from that path. Until I look around and find that I’ve completely lost my way. Then comes the struggle to get back to that path. So much time. So much energy spent. And, for what? Chasing the uncatchable? What am I gonna do with a butterfly, anyway?
Part of me wishes that we had never met. The rational “get your head in the real world” part. That voice that speaks with a shaking head and wagging finger, “I told you to mind your own business! This is a bad idea!”
But, of course I didn’t listen. I never do.
They say that the heart wants what the heart wants. (Whoever ‘They’ are.)
Now, I have seen fields of green grass speckled with White and Purple flowers. I’ve inhaled deeply of the fragrances that waft about after the morning dew Has slaked the thirst of the plant spirits; Yarrow…Comfrey.
Sol, rising to His strength, warms me and illuminates my path. Pollen, floating, infuses the air with the sweet taste of Honeysuckle.
Now, I Know things. Your face, your hair, the shape of your eyes, Etched indelibly into the deep crevasses of my mind. Written into the very fabric of my soul.
How, then, is it possible to Unknow? Can I Unkown me? Is it conceivable that I could Unknow love?
No.
Would that I had voice to sing you to the stars! My tongue would form the words of praise to our Love So that all in the Cosmos could see and hear And Share, together with us, this Gift Given
Tonight I’m going to be meeting with something called the “Spiritual Growth Committee” at St. Barnabas. Now, I’m not really sure why this committee was originally formed. I guess I’ll find out later. I do know that the Bible study that I have led for the past few months is somehow under the auspices of that committee. So, there’s that.
Those who know me can maybe understand my apparent ambivalence to this. First off, I’m not a big fan of ‘committees.’ They are usually formed for some arbitrary reason like, “Gee! Maybe we should form a committee for that!” (Whatever “that” is.) There rarely is a need for them. Then, once formed, they tend to exist for the singular purpose of ‘existing.’ In the rare event that there truly is a need and a mandate for a committee to form, the mandate seems never to be met and the committee just lives on and on and on……
I also really hate meetings. Another example of existing for the mere purpose of appearing to do something. Anything. At all. Even when nothing of any real substance is, in fact, taking place. “Hey, Bill! Let’s get the committee together to have a meeting.” “What do we need to talk about,” Jim? “Oh, I don’t know. But, at least we’ll look like we’re accomplishing something.” “Good call, Jim!” Yeah, meetings…not a big fan.
So, you ask, why am I involving myself with these two things that I really don’t hold in very high esteem?
Well, sometimes I think that we must entertain some things that appear pretty much useless in order to add legitimacy to something that IS important and NEEDS to be addressed. In this case, appearances are pretty important. People seem to really like it when something appears to be important and official. I don’t know, to me it seems pretty silly, but hey, there are “People.” You know?
Ok, so what’s so important that it can get me to leave my house and miss Jeopardy!?
Spiritual Growth and Formation. That’s what.
I’m convinced that the only thing that separates the Church from every other social justice organisation on the planet finds its source in those few words. In fact, most of those secular organisations can do the work far better than the Church. They can mobilize a larger slice of the population and, far and away, they can fetch the financial resources needed far more easily. I’m not implying that the Church should abdicate this vital work and allow secular groups to own all of that work. No, no, no. The Scripture is clear, and our hearts concur, that justice for those who are in need and who are ostracized by society is part of what God desires us to pursue. All I’m saying is that on the ground these other organisations are really well-equipped to do that work. (In fact, it’s usually a good idea for the Church to partner with them. Together much good can be done.)
Back to Spiritual Growth.
The Church is unique in that she can help people find a path that leads to the Source of Life.
Yeah, that’s what I said. A pathway to the Source. That alone is not necessary to do good works. But, it is necessary for the Church to be the Church. It is our Raison d’être. Awareness; Presence; Communion is the fertile soil in which ALL other expressions and acts of faith sprout and grow. This produces good fruit in the life of the Church and in the lives of the people.
I am convinced that attention to Spiritual Formation is the ONLY thing that can make the Church the Incarnate Body of Christ. The living, breathing Gift of God to the Cosmos.
I promised myself that I was going to take time this weekend to reflect; to write. Oh, well, maybe next week.
A little over a week ago I was at a memorial for one of my aunts. She walked on last February after a long life ‘being Joan.’ At the memorial I had the privilege of sharing a prayer. That gave me opportunity to think about Joan, (Pronounced: Jo-ANN), and how she influenced me. I promised myself that I wouldn’t get all verklempt and teary-eyed. Of course, that didn’t work out very well. During the time we were all gathered, remembering, cousins catching up, grandkids wandering around, I stood and watched. The wife of one of my cousins came up and said, “You’re just taking all of this in, aren’t you?” Yeah, I guess that I was. We never gather as family anymore. Unless, it’s to bury someone.
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of taking apart a golf ball, then you may understand a little of how I felt. A golf ball, at least they used to be, was nothing but a loooonnnnggg rubber band wound tightly around some core. This is then covered with a tough rubber coating with dimples. Dimples? Really? They couldn’t come up with a better description? Anyway, after the cover is removed you can begin to pull off bits of rubber band. Eventually, you get to a point where the band begins to unravel itself. All of that pent-up potential energy lets go and the ball takes on a life of its own. It’s driven to unravel until the hidden core is revealed. That’s kind of how I felt. Emotional tension. Potential energy awaiting release. Tight. Ready to explode with all of my emotional guts unraveling on the floor.
I’ve been waiting, now, for more than a week to try and decompress. To somehow release that energy in some kind of constructive way. Some kind of, maybe, life-giving way. But, like so many other things, life sometimes just gets in the way.
All that to say, I am still waiting to pull on that last piece of the rubber band. To release the tension that is built up in my gut.
But, not today.
Perhaps I’ll think about it tomorrow. Because as Scarlette O’Hara said, “After all, tomorrow is another day!”
