Well, it’s official. I am now a confirmed Episcopalian.
Yesterday I was one of 10 adults who stood in front of the Church where a bishop laid hands on us and welcomed us.
It was a bit weird. Part of the Confirmation was that we state our intent to take Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior. Well, that’s something that I did nearly 50 years ago. So, I guess this was more like a re-commitment to follow Jesus within the context of the Anglican Church. Ok, I’m good with that.
What is significant for me, though, is that I am now accepted into a tradition that is ancient, yet modern. It is larger than me, yet as small as my faith.
I have searched for nearly a decade for a Church community that I could embrace, and would embrace me. A Church Home that is welcoming and inclusive. A place where the Spirit of God lives and gives life. Somewhere that diversity is sought and celebrated.
I have found that, and more, at St. Barnabas.
So, here I am, old and feeble, with yet another new beginning.
What will the future hold?
I haven’t a clue.
But, in this moment I am glad to be walking with these people, at this place, in this hour.
What matters whether transcendent or translucent? Original Sin stains, sealing souls in black plastic wrap. Light shrouded in gray folds of wayward hungering Diffusing, obscuring from within and without.
“Not so fast!” a Voice whispers; intones; suggests “The veil that shrouds the Heart has colored the understanding in colorless shades of shadow. “Let the Light within dispel such childish notion! “Arise to the morning and warmth that Truth, like Sunlight, radiates upon the Soul.”
I marvel at this. What Truth? Then, like the Dawn, understanding gently begins to illuminate. All is held in thrall to darkness; decay; death. This we mistake for Original Sin. It is not. Yet, the story doesn’t end there.
No.
This story continues from life to life. From light to light. From Love to Love.
I wrote a couple pieces recently that touch on the idea of a person being Mindful or Present to the Spirit of God at various times. I wrote about being Present in Prayer Here. Celebrating the Liturgy with Intent Here.
Mindfulness, as I wrote, is nothing new. Nor, is it limited to any one faith or belief system. It’s a way of seeing and interacting with the world around us in a meaningful way. Too often we simply go through the motions of life without any recognition of the fact that we are actually Alive. And, there are other living beings and a whole Cosmos around us is many times simply missed altogether.
It’s hard work opening our eyes, our minds, and our hearts to the world around us. It’s even harder to sit with that world and appreciate it for what it is At. That. Moment. So, baby steps are necessary.
“What? Baby steps? I’m a grown adult human being! I don’t need no stinkin’ Baby steps!”
Well, yeah, you do. So do we all.
I already mentioned a couple areas where we can begin to engage ourselves and practice Presence. These are ways to take Baby steps. Little by little we can learn to be Present to God in prayer and Liturgy. Eventually, with time and practice, maybe we can actually find ourselves immersed in God’s Presence at these times.
Another way to learn to walk in Mindfulness is to pray formulated prayers. The Daily Office is one such type of prayer.
I must mention here that I spent way too many years in a religious tradition that thought that the only Really Real Prayer was one that the Holy Spirit magically put in your mind at the very moment the prayer was offered. This was, “Being Led By The Spirit.” Any other kind of prayer was wooden or rote or the tradition of mere mortals. That kind of prayer would never “work,” (whatever that means).
However, like I wrote concerning the Liturgy, written prayers were also composed with intent. They were produced under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Just because something has been around for centuries doesn’t make it any less Spiritual.
That said, I was saying Morning Prayer today. Just as I have many, many times over the last decade or so. I read the Introduction and prayed the Confession. I offered the Venite with the antiphons. I prayed the Psalm and the canticles. I prayed through the readings, the Creed, the Our Father, and the other various Collects and prayers for today. I finished the Thanksgiving.
All of this has been part of the Church since the beginning. All of these prayers and readings are designed to focus our hearts and minds on the Present Moment. If we are Mindful and Present with the prayers and the Scriptures then we can, as today’s Collect says, “hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them.”
Of course, we can simply read through them Office like any other text we encounter. Many people do. For them the written prayers are just something that needs to get done, something to check off of their ‘To Do’ list.
But, when these prayers are approached with Mindfulness and an intent to be Present, they can be life giving and transformative.
If God is not a Cosmic Don Corleone like the Calvinists claim,
then, who is God…Really?
Is it possible that God could actually be the loving Being that so many believe?
If so, what does that do to some of our very favorite pet theologies?
You know, like Original Sin and Hell?
People seem to really like the idea of Hell. That’s HELL, as in an ‘Eternal Conscious Punishment’ kinda hell.
Why?
No, really…why would anyone who has an ounce of compassion wish that on anyone?
According to the folks who accept this idea, the answer is Justice.
Hell is necessary because of all of the Evil Evilness that is at the core of Humanity because of that thing called Original Sin. Our ancient forebears, Adam and Eve, disobeyed God. So now, the entire Cosmos is steeped in that Original Sin. Apparently, in order for things to be put back in order, then, the Cosmos, the Whole Shebang, must be destroyed and rebuilt. And, all of humanity must be cast into the Burning Trash Heap called Hell.
That is, except for a chosen few who follow a prescribed formula that will safeguard them from that particular doom.
So, we can’t have all of those evil people receiving any kind of respite or reward. That wouldn’t be fair. Plus, God is a Just God. So, God is compelled to punish evil people because, well, JUSTICE, Dammit!
For those of you who were not a part of this culture of Retributive Justice, what I’m sharing might sound strange. After all, doesn’t the Bible say something about God loving the whole Cosmos so much that God’s own Son gave himself up to death in order to save it?
Well, yeah it does.
But, what about Justice? Is there a case to be made in support of some kind of payment due for those who follow an evil path in life?
WHAT ABOUT HITLER, DAMMIT?!
Ok. What about Hitler? Or Stalin or Attila or Nero or Fill in Name of Favorite Villain_______.
Honestly?
I haven’t a clue.
Oh, and neither do you.
God’s justice falls in that space that’s way above our pay grade. We don’t get to make that call.
Ever.
We don’t get to treat anyone as if they fall outside of God’s love and grace.
And, we certainly don’t get to decide who, if anyone, will find themselves in some kind of Hell.
Oh, that means that we don’t get to give people a choice. Heaven or Hell? Repeat this incantation and you will miraculously be granted the former and spared the latter.
No.
We are called, no, Commanded to Love. Period.
Does that kind of love mean that we must warn people about some pending eternal doom?
No. Sorry, that’s not love. That’s rendering a judgement. Not our job.
“But, what if they reject our love?”
What if they do? We love them anyway.
Anything beyond that can be construed as missing the mark. Or, Sin.
Some days my mind just doesn’t want to work. I look out across the landscape of my imagination and see swirling dust devils and hard, sun baked rocks reaching out of the ground like the dead fingers of some poor, undead soul reaching from the grave. I wonder, “Where has the lush green forests where unseen woodland creatures dance and play?”
There is nothing.
Perhaps, somewhere beneath this parched surface there lies a seed; dormant; waiting. If I should quest to find that River of Creativity that meanders through the Cosmos, could I maybe retrieve a cap full of that Blessed water to wet the uncracked germ that houses the glorious life within? But, that river is like the Nexus from that Star Trek movie. It moves and wanders through the Cosmos seemingly at will. Where will it appear next?
If I may be able to find it, could I possibly dig a ditch to channel some of that Living Water to irrigate the fertile soil of my Mind? Just a small bit to moisten the earth that forms the womb for the sleeping embryo of Creativity to germinate.
Then, root and shoot moving away. Action; Reaction garnering strength from the germ of life within the seed. Root searching for moisture and nutrition. Shoot digging ever upward in search of the light and warmth of the Sun. Leaf and bud forming to empower and create!
I finally finished reading Stephen King’s “It” for the second time over the weekend. It took way longer than I had intended. It supposed to be a Halloween thing. Oh, well.
Like all of King’s books, this one is not great literature. He’ll be the first one to tell you that. But, like most of King’s books, it’s a really great story.
There is a lot of gore in the story. But, that’s part of early King. There is suspense and horror. Again, King’s early M.O.
And, I enjoyed the telling immensely. In fact, as I began the book I saw in my mind’s eye a group of people sitting around a campfire listening as King begins to tell his tale. All of the images of my youth as we sat at night trying to scare each other with whatever “ghost” story we had recently learned.
Remember the one about the escaped psychopathic murderer? Yeah, the one where the kids drove away with a hook dangling from the door of their car? (Click here.)
In rereading this story, I was cast back into the world of youth where you can find a hook hanging from the door. Or, where werewolves and walking mummies truly exist. That land of Faerie where tales of gingerbread cottages and wolves that have big eyes that are better to see you with, my dear.
But, we’ve all grown out of that. Right? In the “real world” monsters and faeries and old crones who cook little children don’t really exist. There is no magic. Only harsh reality exists for us.
And, that is the theme that I gleaned from this reading of “It.”
That world where the imagination can turn water in an aspirator into battery acid washes away as we “grow up” and “mature.” Playing cards attached to our bicycles so that they click-clack on the spokes and turn the bike into a motorcycle are, in fact, only paper cards.
Yet, at the end of King’s story, all of the characters, now grown up, find that it is only in becoming like children could they overcome and finally destroy It. It was the power of imagination and innocence, of memory and childlike friendship, that gave them the ability to see the evil as it was and overcome it once and for all.
I think that we loose that ability at our peril.
I think that when we become too old and ‘grown up’ to believe in the unbelievable part of our core humanity is lost.
I think we need to write and hear tales of Faerie that just might come true.
Because, there are monsters in this world that only child-like belief and faith can overcome.
I was just thinking about someone who at one time was my best friend in the world. That was over 5 decades ago. I haven’t seen him since elementary school. Yet, my heart is warmed by the memories of building tree houses and riding skateboards, (back when they were little more than a board with the steel wheels from roller skates screwed to them.)
With Middle School and High School came new friends and interests. Those, too, have fallen at the wayside of time and life.
I can follow each path that I walked upon in my life. There are people, places, scents, tastes, and sounds that bring each path into bright, colorful focus. Each stage is, in its own way, good. Each has left its imprint on who I am Now.
And, like flowers that bloom and provide beauty and fresh fragrance, each path is eventually spent and falls to the ground.
I mention this because there is also a part of us, perhaps woven into the very fabric of our humanity, that wants to remain walking the same path. We don’t want to veer left or right. Not even when the path diverges into several. “I don’t want to hurt their feelings,” we say about a relationship that has run its course. “What if I’m wrong?” is a question that paralyzes people. We are frozen, unable to move on way or the other. All the while, the sands of time continue to fall into the bottom of the glass.
A Greek philosopher, Heraclitus is credited with saying, “Nothing is permanent except change.”
If true, then perhaps embracing change would help us to flower and flourish. Yes, some blossoms bloom and die. They are soon replaced by other blossoms that bloom in their season.
Qoheleth wrote:
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven
Seasons come; Seasons go. Such is the way of the Cosmos. Embrace the change. After all, it is the only permanence we have.
Yahweh, Fear is niggling around the periphery of my consciousness. It forebodes failure. Anxious that I will be found false, I hurry to my corner where my blanket lies with the big, fluffy pillow that I wrap my arms around and hold tightly to my heart.
Lord, I sometimes wish wistfully; waiting; wanting That I could simply sit and share quietly among the multitudes who call on You. It would be so much simpler to get lost among those who shine far brighter than I. Then, perhaps, the dimness of my own light would be covered, drowned and no one would notice me cowering at the edge.
Yeshua, When I read the stories of how you ran to hide away from the masses in the early hours of the morning, I see a kindred Spirit. In solitude with Abba we can rest secure. It is only when the crowds press us into action that the anxiety rises like a tide driven by hurricane force winds. A tidal surge that inundates and drowns.
God, But, that’s not how I’m wired, is it? No, for better or worse I have been blessed, (cursed?), with a mind that can see and understand things. I am given words and music that overflow and must be channeled in order to irrigate and nourish others.
They say the History repeats itself. They also say that if we don’t learn from History Then we are doomed to repeat it.
Which is it? Will History repeat whether we learn from It or not?
And, who are “They”? Who installed “They” as the be all and end all of knowing?
If History does repeat, is It like a scratch on an old vinyl record? “tch, Play me again. tch, Play me again. tch, Play me again. tch, Play me again. Perhaps it’s like selecting Repeat on my digital device. Then, I can hear my favorites over and over until they, too, become cliché.
I’m still waiting for History to repeat a Love Story. You know the one! That one where the Author of “The Greatest Story Ever Told” Loves us to Death? Then, Loves us back to Life.
In just under two weeks I, and nine others, will be confirmed or received into the Episcopal Church at St. Barnabas. This will be the next step for me in a long journey as I searched for a community of people with whom to share life in Christ. The past few weeks we have been meeting for Episcopalian lessons, better known as confirmation classes. Last night we spent the entire two hour class going through, and celebrating, the Eucharistic Liturgy. I want to share a bit about that.
Those of you who know me understand that I hold traditional liturgy in high esteem. Attending St. Barnabas was initially my attempt to find a liturgical church where I could fit in. I’m not entirely sure what was the draw to liturgy for me. Was it the history of the tradition? Perhaps, some. Was it the ceremony and symbolism? Yeah, probably. Nothing really, though, stood out as my Must See Moment.
I have studied the liturgy ever since I was in seminary. I learned all about the theology behind the ceremonies. I delved into the history of the various actions and found out the reasons that certain words were used and when to use them. As a student, I was enamored by all of these things.
That is, until last night.
Last night our priest walked us through the entire process from preparation and vestments all the way to the dismissal. And, my eyes were opened to something that I had probably heard before. But, it had never really taken root in my heart.
Many people think that liturgy means some kind of ritual or tradition that people simply follow. However, the word “Liturgy” comes from the Greek word “leitourgia.” That word literally means “work of the people.” For the Liturgy truly is a group effort. It is not a spectator sport.
I saw during our class the substance behind the actions. These words, prayers, and actions were put into the Liturgy with Intent. They aren’t there just because some guy 5oo years ago thought it would be cool to bow here or cross yourself there. Each movement is a neatly choreographed piece of an intentionally constructed whole.
To be sure, the Liturgies that we now have are not prescribed by the Bible. The only parts of it that are found in Scripture are the Eucharist, which Jesus instituted, and Baptism. The prayers and readings and actions are extra-biblical and are not essential for either faith or salvation. The Liturgy is, however, an effective help for the Church. It is a means by which a diverse group of people can gather with one voice and one objective.
The Liturgy is constructed in such a way that it focuses the intention of the community on the only worthy Object of our worship: God. This isn’t a social gathering where we are obligated to maintain relationships with the other people. It is far more significant than that. We gather as a community for the expressed purpose of worshiping God: Father; Son; Holy Spirit.
I came out of a tradition that does things quite a bit differently. In that tradition, the leaders were routinely called Shepherds. We, the faithful, were called the ‘flock,’ or ‘sheep.’ All apt metaphors found in the Bible. But, therein also lies a distinction that many folks seem to overlook. In my old tradition we were treated like sheep. We were herded into our sheep pen on Sundays where the shepherds would dutifully feed us whatever the sheep food of the week was. The form that this took was, we got together to sing some songs so that we could feel good. Then, we got to sit and listen to a lecture telling us how to live and vote and stuff like that. All of this was done so that we could grow and mature as good church members.
Am I harsh? You bet. And, with good reasons. But, that’s a topic for another post.
The main difference that I see between these traditions is that the one from which I came out all of the emphasis was on Me. Was I fed? Did I get anything out of it? Was I touched by the Spirit? Me; My; Mine. This could all be done in any motivational setting with similar results. Were MY needs met? Does this help ME grow as a person?
In a liturgical setting, like I mentioned above, the Only Object is God. Everything about the Liturgy points to God. From start to finish; front to back, it’s all about God. Period. Whereas the place I came from was always searching, searching to find a way to build Community, in the Liturgy we ARE community. We gather with one heart and one voice to come into the Presence of God and bow before the Divinity and Worship.
That’s it.
That’s plenty.
I have much to learn, yet, about the Liturgy and how it can be a real way to experience God’s Presence and Grace. I have much to learn about how to set my intention, coordinated with the intentions of all who gather with me, on the only Object worthy of our Intention…God.
