Category: Humanity

“It” Revisited

Published by mhelbert on November 18, 2019

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.

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Seasons Change, and So Do We

Published by mhelbert on November 15, 2019

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.

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A Prayer; A Confession

Published by mhelbert on November 14, 2019

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.

But, I feel so inadequate.

I feel so exposed.

I feel so false.

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God Is Not A Prude

Published by mhelbert on November 7, 2019

I don’t know why this thought popped into my brain.
But, it did.
Yesterday during my quiet time in the morning this showed up.
So, like so many other times, I tried to simply let the thought wash away and got back to prayer.
And, like so many other times, this thought persisted.
I can take a hint.
I let the idea swim around in my mind while I brought it to God.

I’ve known for a long, long time that nothing we humans can do will surprise God.
Especially since the Incarnation, God has had a pretty good handle on the foibles we humans share.

Example?

Ok…

God has heard the word “Shit” before.
God is not shocked at that.
Nor, is God offended by it.
It’s a word.
And, a pretty damned good one, too!
See what I did there?
Yeah, God’s not too concerned about that word, either.

In fact, the more that I’ve gotten to know God, the less I find really does cause offense.
At least, among the things that seem to get people all bent out of shape.

You see, we humans like to set boundaries and elect gatekeepers to keep the inside of our little world all pure and white.
The gatekeepers, then, define what is acceptable and unacceptable.
And then?
Surprise! They tell us that God is the One Who sets the standards for our boundaries.
God is the One Who tells us what is pure and impure.

And, people actually believe that shit!

But, like I said, God is not surprised.
Nor, I think, overly concerned about what we think is boundary-worthy.

Let me get back to that boundary and gatekeeping thing.

If God is not taken by surprise by what we say or do.
And, if God is really intimate with how humans think.
Then, why are we so freaked out by how people dress or act with one another?

I know, that was quite a shift from language to clothing.

But, it all has to do with purity and who sets the boundaries.

And, that’s key.

Who doe set the boundaries?

It doesn’t take too much work to see the answer to that.
Cultural boundaries are set by those who wield the power.
And, those people are almost always men.

Yep, men.
We can narrow that down even more. They are men who are members of the dominant culture.

Now, of course women’s voices have been raised in the past.
The Women’s Temperance Unions of the 19th century are an example.
It’s important to note, though, it was male leadership who put temperance and blue laws into effect. Maybe, just to keep the peace at home?

Anyway…

Men are the ones who have asserted their dominance by setting boundaries that seek to control the culture. That includes things like what women wear; how women decide what’s best for themselves and their bodies; what women are allowed to do and where they can go.

If you noticed a common feature in those examples, go to the head of the class. (For those of you who didn’t…IT’S WOMEN!)

Men have asserted their power and control over women for as long as written history tells us. And then they tell everyone that this is what God wants.
“We have no choice but to obey!”

But, is God concerned about things like this?

I’m gonna say NO.
I really don’t think that God is concerned with our purity laws and rules.

In fact, I think that God is more concerned about the lack of love that the boundary makers and gatekeepers have toward others.
I think that God is concerned about the systems that we humans have developed in order to control others.
I really think that if God can be pissed off, that would do it.

But, I’m not sure that God is angered by our piss-poor treatment of one another.
I truly think that God is saddened by it.
God has tried to get our attention for ever.
God has come right out and Told us what God considers important.
And, guess what?
Our piddly little rules about purity aren’t in there.

What is?

Justice for widows, orphans, and strangers.
Hospitality. Caring for those who get trampled along the way. Using wealth for the benefit of everyone, turning the other cheek.

Oh! And, how about this one…
Do to others what you would want them to do to you!!!

God gave us two things to use in setting boundaries.
1. Love God. And, do it with everything ya got!
2. Love your neighbor as you would love yourself.

That’s not too difficult to understand, is it?
How about let’s allow what God has actually revealed to us as important guide us in how we treat each other and the world around us?

I think those boundaries would work pretty well.
Because, Everyone would be on the inside.

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Union With God

Published by mhelbert on November 2, 2019

Today I’m going to leave writing and and stuff alone and return to reflections about God, the Cosmos, and me. There are thoughts that niggle at the back of my brain that sometimes just need to be turned loose on the World.

Over the years that I have pursued God, or maybe God was pursuing me, through various forms of contemplative prayer, the idea of Union with God has peered through the mist from time to time.
I’m no historian, but I have read and heard stories of certain practitioners of various religious traditions seeking to become ‘one’ with, or joined together with deity.
In the Christian tradition that concept became famous during the Middle Ages through various mystics who then wrote about their experiences with “Mystical Marriage.” Or, they described their contemplative journey as a pilgrimage up mountain or into some kind of many layered mansion. These journeys culminated in some kind of mystical, ecstatic experience that left that person somehow changed.
It seems that this concept of Union with God is still the prevalent one today.

I don’t see it that way.

That way of experiencing God’s presence in one’s life seems too, well, individualistic. The journey is a solitary one. The trials along the way are ‘me’ against the powers of darkness that would stand in my way. Obstacles that I would need to prove myself worthy against in order to prevail.
Eventually, if I had remained steadfast and faithful, I found the prize and claimed it as my own.
That sounds all cool and everything. Especially, in our Western culture that elevates the individual to some kind of cultural sainthood.
But, I’m sorry. I just don’t see that model of Spirituality anywhere in the Scriptures.
Yeah, I get it that God is concerned about us each individually. And, God delights when we each desire to be with God. We, each of us, is precious to God.
I don’t think that’s the end of the story, though.
The whole idea of “Me and Jesus against the World” just doesn’t ring true.

So, how does Union with God fit into any other schema?
It seems by its very name to be something that only affects a particular individual.

Over the past few years I have had the idea of Humans as Ikons of God. That’s pretty much what the stories in Genesis calls us when the writers mentioned ‘in Our Image.’ Humanity is, in these stories, created to fill the role of Steward in God’s Good Creation.
A steward is a representative of someone else. The steward has authority to act in the Name of that someone else. The steward, in effect, partners with that someone else in order to achieve the benefit of, not just that someone else, but of All that is under the authority of that someone else.
For us, that entails the entirety of the Cosmos.

Union with God, to me anyway, seems to be more about partnering with God in order to achieve God’s Good Will in the Cosmos than with any kind of individual ecstatic experiences.
Union with God seems to be contingent, not just on my efforts against unseen enemies, but on my willingness to hear Jesus’ knock on the door of my Heart. Then, opening it so that He may come in and “abide” with and in me. Not for my benefit alone. Although, there is that. But, for the benefit of All.
Paul wrote to the Church at Rome about how the creation groans waiting for the daughters and sons of God to show up.

The further that I walk on this path of my life and seek God’s Presence, the more I am convinced that this life is NOT simply some kind of preparation for ME in order to be ready for some after life. That is not, CANNOT, be the purpose of God for the Cosmos.
God’s purpose is redemption of ALL. Life for ALL.

HERE!

NOW!

IN THIS LIFE!

Union with God means to partner with God, Work with God…

Love with God.

Are we ready for that?
Maybe.
But, together, United with one another in Union with God I believe that we can be.

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Ideabola

Published by mhelbert on October 30, 2019

“Burn!” cried the mob as the book pyre blazed in the night.
“Death to Infidels; heretics; free thinkers!”

Death?
Books can die?

This sentiment seems to be making a resurgence in some parts of the world. I mean, it’s never really been far from us.
The some churches still believes that Harry Potter poses an existential danger because of the whole witches and wizards thing.
At other times books that some so-called authority deemed ‘subversive,’ (re. Doesn’t agree with my opinion), have been collected and set ablaze as a public rebuke to anyone who might harbor similar positions.

But, books are not ideas.
They may, at best, be the vessels in which ideas travel.
Ideas, though, are by their very nature untouchable.
And, incurable.

Ideas are like a virus that spreads by getting inside of a person at a cellular level, invading and capturing the minds of those who are exposed to them.

Ideas become a part of a person’s DNA. They are, by nature, invasive.

Yet, not foreign.

Not harmful.

In fact, they can produce vitality and health in those who harbor them deep within their hearts and minds.

Ideas CANNOT be stopped by destroying the vessels that carry them.

Even if those vessels are living, breathing human beings.

That, too, has been tried. How many “heretics” have been burned; fed to lions; hanged; drowned?

And, yet, the ideas live on.

“But,” some say, “ideas can lead people astray! They can put a person in harm’s way!”

Astray?
NO! Emphatically, NO!
Ideas may open our minds to other ideas.
They may cause our minds and hearts to grow 2 sizes larger.
They may make us more empathetic.
But, astray? Nuh uh.

Ideas are what make us humans in the first place.
They are the engine that pushes us forward.

Yes, ideas can also give some people reason to hurt, maim, or destroy.
But, it will also be an idea that counters those who would act in that way.

Ideas are like a virus.
They will infect us.
They will change us.

The question that remains is, how will we embody these ideas?
How will we live in a world where Ideas live, thrive, and yes, Infect?

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Security? I Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Security!

Published by mhelbert on October 24, 2019

Today’s Tuesday.
Yesterday, well, that was Monday.
And, I didn’t post anything.
Sorry if the 2 of you who actually visit here missed me.
But, I was unable to write.
Not because I was too busy with other tasks. That’s never really stopped me before. If I have something that needs to crawl out of my brain and onto the Internet, Well By Gawd, I’m gonna get it out there!
No, I had different impediments. Stuff that does, in fact, keep the crawly stuff locked up inside.
First, I haven’t been sleeping well. And, Sunday into Monday I was working on about 5 hours. That’s after weeks of maybe 6 hours on average. My mind simply said, “Nope. Not thinking today. And, there’s nothing you can do about. Nya Nya Nya.”
And, my mind was right. There was nothing gonna shake any words loose.
The other thing happening was that I was an emotional wreck. My mind said it was too tired to write, but, Hoo Boy, not too tired to race around like a squirrel on crack. I could not have put two cogent thoughts together if my life depended on it. Thankfully, it didn’t.

So, what’s going on?

I’ve shared a little bit about the journey that I’m presently walking. Emotions, Passions, Thoughts, you know, all that sensitive artist kind of crap. And, I have to tell you, this journey is fraught with all kinds of pits and obstacles and beasties and such.
But, it is a journey that I must undertake. Now. At this time in my life.

I’m finding that with all of the hope that I had earlier in life to embody Mr. Spock from Star Trek, I am too human. My emotions leak all over me like the oil pan of one of my old cars used to leak all over my driveway. And, these emotions can be just as much of a sticky mess and hard to clean up. Maybe, harder.

I’ve discovered that I am hyper-insecure. As I look back over my life and look deeply into my heart, I have always been like that. I fear rejection, for sure. More importantly, I think that I fear not being accepted.

So, I push for responses that might give me a glimmer of hope that you, (whoever that is), might give me that I’m not the waste of skin that I feel that I truly am.
I say and do things that we both will regret. Not because I’m a creep or some narcissistic boor. But, because I’m afloat in a sea of doubt surrounded by the dense fog of uncertainty.

Now, some shrink may look at me and say something about how I must have felt rejection when another child was brought into my childhood home. Mom and Dad had to set me aside so they could include the newly added soul.
Or, they might say that there is a hidden memory and wound from being given up by my birth mother for adoption. Lord knows I’ve heard that before.

Or, maybe, just maybe this is how I’m wired. Nothing broken. No wounds or hurts. It’s just part of my Melancholic personality type.

Honestly, I don’t know where the roots of insecurity lie. Don’t know if it’s even important to know. The fact is, this is where I am and I need to deal with it.

Deal with it?
What’s that mean?

Hell, I don’t know.
Fix it?
Heal it?

Learn to embrace it and live with it?
Maybe, someday be able to celebrate it?

I honestly don’t know.
And, I may, (re. Probably), never know.

I do know, however, that I am what I am and that’s all that I am.
So, the journey continues.

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Broken??? Nope.

Published by mhelbert on October 22, 2019

Have you ever had one of those moments of clarity when suddenly, as if and epiphany, various and discordant seeming thoughts coalesce into a complete image?

No?

Nor have I.
But, this morning as I was quietly sitting in my office, dark except for the light of a few candles, I began to put some pieces together about who I am that I’ve only seen as disparate thoughts, now here; now gone.
I mentioned in some earlier posts that I’ve been doing some much needed introspection. It’s much needed because I think that over years and decades we become immune to the passions and voices that at one time helped to form us into the people that we now are. Some people refer to this as “adding baggage.”

So, I’ve been taking an inventory of sorts. I began to recall memories from as far back as I can. It seems that “helping” my dad build a fence when I was 4 yrs. old is one of the earliest.
Part of doing this kind of exercise is to look for patterns and triggers that may provide clues to why I am who I am today. It can be an interesting and fun endeavor, to be sure.

But, the overarching “Why?” for taking this path may be more problematic.

You see, it begins with the assumption that something Must Have Gone Wrong at some time. Because, I am obviously broken and in need of repair.
At least, that’s the impression that I’ve been given by people around me. Including, and especially, those closest to my heart.

So, the introspection became a forensic investigation. I was a sleuth looking for clues of a crime that I surely must have committed. Else, why am I like I am? If I had not done something wrong, taken a turn when I should have gone straight, then I would have turned out much differently. (re. ‘Better.’)

Well, I haven’t found anything that stands out.
I’m beginning to think that I never really did.

That fact has been the result of many different thoughts, feelings, and memories that I have sorted through. And, continue to sort.

I found that in this world that seems to be established as one where there are Round Holes and Square Holes, I’m a bit of a rhomboid.
I will obviously not fit into a Round Hole. I don’t care if it’s a circle, and egg, or an oval. My harsh, straight-line corners won’t allow that.
I won’t fit into a Square Hole, either. I don’t have the requisite right angled corners for that.
I am, what Lewis Black might say, “askeeeeewwwww.”

That’s all well and good.
It helps me reconcile myself to myself.”
“Hello, Mike? Meet Mike!”

Where the rub comes, though, is when others can’t seem to get past my Rhomboidishness. They think that in a world with only Round and Square Holes someone like me is an aberration. I MUST BE BROKEN!
So, they get out the saws and the sandpaper and go to work on fixing me.
They don’t realize that all they are doing is destroying who I truly am.

For most relationships, I can simply walk away. They don’t ‘get’ me, whatever that means. And, I really don’t have the time nor need to deal with them.

But, if you want to know me.
If you want to be with me.
If you want to Love me.
Well, be forewarned.

Because, if you think that you will ‘fix’ me, then we are headed for a relationship in which neither of us will be happy and both will be frustrated.

I wrote before that I must echo the wise words of the old sage, Popeye:
“I am what I am and that’s all that I am.”

I’m tired of trying to make everyone else happy at the expense of my own.
Selfish?
Ok, if that’s how you want to view it.

I, however, see it as Self-Preservation with a Hope to Flourish.

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Welcoming and Acceptance

Published by mhelbert on October 16, 2019

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.

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For Love of Self and Beast

Published by mhelbert on October 13, 2019

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.

God does.

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