Thursday's Three Theological Things

Funny how hard times turn the mind to God. I’ve found myself praying that the slump in my business dissipate before I’m broke. But I’m also using the time off to work on other things. Like writing. Like renewing my teaching certificate and signing up to substitute. Like think about what I really want and need. All very spiritual pursuits.

I’m taking a class called Writing the Spirit that conveniently falls during Lent. A couple weeks ago, we were given the task of writing an “I am from….” poem about our spiritual lives. It was an interesting exercise, everyone in the group wrote amazing stuff, and I’ve decided to let you read mine.  If you want to do your own, all you have to do is write “I am from…” and get that pen moving.

So, for my first theological thing, here’s my poem.

I am from stained glass and uniforms,
Jewish boys carrying crosses they don’t believe in
While Christian girls with covered heads are excluded from the altar

I am from concentration camps and schism over buttons
The 1928 prayer book and the Coverdale psalms
Too many years in seminary and not enough in prayer
Messiahs and Prophets (blessed be their names).

I am from gentle lovers and fierce daughters, wise men and wiser women,
From evolution, revolution, metanoia, and koinonia
From words and the Word, bread and wine,
Matzo balls and latkes, Sabbath-keeping and rule-breaking

I from choirs of children in four-part harmony
From wanting what I could not have
Until women defied the church and paved the way
And I found I did not want it anymore.

I am from midrash and surahs, gitas and rubrics, Genesis and Luke,
From women’s circles and men’s rules
From broken vows and understanding abbots,
From priests and nuns, rabbis and teachers,
From buried and broken Alleluias.

I am from the holy, whatever be its form.
I am.

Second Theological Thing
Shifting gears a bit, but still staying holed up in the library of the UU church, this week’s assignment involved Carolyn Myss’ Sacred Contracts and her archetype cards. We each chose three cards from the deck, after setting an intention for discovering more about our spiritual path. The three cards represent past, present, and future, or where I come from, where I am, and where I’m going.  I drew the Hermit, the Fool, and God.  Interesting choices for me.

The Hermit, or Mystic, at its best, withdraws from society to focus on the inner life. While I don’t necessarily withdraw, I do like my solitude. Although I can’t say I always use it to advantage. Sometimes I do things that nurture my inner life. Other times I just play World of Warcraft. Which some might argue IS an inner life. Or at least an imaginary life. At its worst, the Hermit withdraws because of fear, intolerance, or to avoid the problems of the world.  I will admit to some fear, and some avoidance, but I’m in therapy again for the gazillionth time to work on that.
Therapy, for me, is a very Hermit-like thing to do. The self-reflection, with someone to call me on a tendency to navel-gaze, has been an invaluable tool in my life. And right now I’m not doing therapy because there is anything particularly wrong but because I want to indulge a desire to grow. Yes, part of that is looking at old stuff, but I’ve done most of the hard, painful part of that already. Now I’m spending an hour every other week in a very disciplined focus on my inner life. And I’ve found one of those once in a lifetime therapists who is truly gifted and is able to serve as both guide and friend. All in all, I’m enjoying my Hermit-age.

My present card is the Fool. In tarot, the Fool is the Zen ‘beginner mind’, the child just starting out on the journey, a reminder that we are always beginning again. In Myss’ archetypes, it’s the ability to communicate profound truth through humor and represents what we’d like to say if we just had the courage.  The downside, or shadow, is a tendency to use humor in cruel ways. I hope I don’t have that. But I am one who uses humor a great deal in my writing, preaching, and life and there are few sacred cows. I pretty much say what I mean, and often do it with humor.

My future card is God. I asked the question about whether this card was gendered, or if it included goddess. It is gendered, and is the male god. In tarot, it would probably be the Heirophant or the Emperor. I’m not done thinking about it so I can’t tell which for sure. Maybe it’s elements of both. This card is the ultimate in male dominance. If used wisely, it is compassion and benevolence (the Emperor). Used poorly, it is the dictator or despot. I’m guessing that Jenny might see moments of the dictator in me but I like to think that I am headed for compassion.

Anyway, my assignment is to think and journal about these things. I guess I just did part of it publically. But I wanted to share about these archetypes, an idea that fascinates me and can be very helpful in looking at life.

Third Theological Thing

Gwyneth

As we all know, God is Dog spelled backwards and I’ve found this dog to be unconditional love on paws so it must be true. We took a walk along Johnson Creek today, in the freezing cold, and Gwynnie found this pool. Now, given the temps we’ve had here the last few days, I’m guessing that water was pretty dang cold. I would have posted the whole sequence, as she first went in with front paws only, then her back toes, then up to her ankles (do dogs have ankles? Does God?)  But over the course of about 30 seconds, most of them captured on my new camera, she went in up to her belly. I was sure she was going to start swimming but she drew the line somewhere. Anyway, I’m thinking she was feeling the need for a baptism in icy water.

Here’s the strange part. We live on a freaking CREEK. About 30 feet off the end of our house is Beaver Creek. Has this dog EVER gone in the creek? No. She has her own little latrine spot near the creek (can’t train her to be environmentally friendly), and there is a spring that feeds the creek which is also her personal drinking fountain, but she has NEVER gone in the creek. First time she’s near a body of water that is not on our property, she’s right in there. Can’t be a desire to swim. She can do that right here. Nope, I’m pretty sure she was baptising herself.

And don’t start with me about dogs having souls or not. There was a whole theological debate on whether women had souls back in time and the debate was not souls or no souls. Nope, it was do women HAVE souls or ARE women souls. I vote that women are pure soul and as such have no need of HAVING souls. And I think the same is true of my dog. On the other hand, being the roommate of a purely evil cat, I’m pretty sure Sophie doesn’t have one, nor is she one. Some of you will, of course, argue with that. You know who you are. Feel free to comment. Just be civil. Now, talk amongst yourselves.

Thursday's Three Theological Thoughts

• I asked Jenny if it was possible to flunk Lent and she gave me the answer I expected. Every day is a new opportunity to start over and minor failures don’t add up to a major one. That’s so Benedictine but also true. So maybe I’ll even write my thoughts on Ash Wednesday today.  Speaking of failures, the one thing I tried to fail at, I failed at failing. I was mad at my father for pushing me so hard for grades in college and then found out that he flunked a class in college himself. So I decided to quit attending a class I hated with. I got an incomplete. Now, in theory, incompletes convert to Fs after a few years. But mine is still there, thirty plus years later, as an incomplete. So, I am an incomplete failure. Should give me some hope for getting through Lent.
• Why am I, a Unitarian, so intent on Lenten discipline this year? Perhaps because I need discipline in other areas of my life? Something to explore, anyway.
• I find myself being judgmental more than I want, and I’d like to work on that, too. That whole “let God/dess judge.” But if judging is wrong, why did God/dess make it so dang fun?

Shrove Tuesday

Or Carnival. Either way, it’s the day before Ash Wednesday which is the beginning of Lent in the Christian liturgical year. This is the traditional day to confess one’s sins before Lent, hence the Shrove, derived from Shriven as in being shriven of one’s sins. Carnival, or carne vale, on the other hand, is a festival of the upside down. It means ‘farewell to meat” and was a traditional day to use up all the meat, butter, flour, eggs, etc. that had been stored for the winter. Stuff would go rancid otherwise. Funny how lots of religious traditions are also practical but that’s another discussion. So lots of meat, pancakes dripping with butter, and whatever else you could think of to use up all the stores. Nowadays, it’s traditional to have pancakes and sausages for dinner, which is what we are going to have. Even if I did have to go to the grocery store to get the ingredients.

Carnival was also the day a peasant was elevated to Lord of Misrule and everyone had to do whatever he said. Now, of course, it’s a drunken bacchanalia of exposed breasts, tossed beads, painted coconuts from the Zulu Crew in New Orleans, fights, and arrests. If everyone was going to enter Lent tomorrow, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. Carnival was meant to be a time to blow off steam, gorge oneself, and generally get it out of your system before the austerity of Lent. But most people will not enter Lent and will not take on a discipline of any sort. This, to me, is sad.

This country is in the state it is in because we are not disciplined people who understand the need to make sacrifices before there is no other choice. We don’t send our own sons to war (well, I did…my son-in-law has done three tours in Iraq), we don’t save our money, we don’t even drive cars that don’t pollute although they are readily available.  We extend ourselves financially without considering the possibility that things may not always be so rosy. Hell, we even elected Bush twice although anyone who did their homework knew the man was a liar and a fool. Then reality hits and suddenly we are forced into doing what we would not have done voluntarily.

Lent is a time to reflect, pray, and give up (or in some cases take on) a discipline until the great feast of Easter. Anyone who has ever saved pennies for a special purchase knows the sweet feeling of finally being able to have one’s desire. And we do this voluntarily, not because we have to but because we hope it will benefit our soul. Lent is a season of sacrifice so that the celebration can be all the more joyous.

More tomorrow, when it all starts for real. Right now, go get those pancakes and have fun. For tomorrow we fast.

Thursday's Three Theology Things

I’ve decided that each day of the week needs a theme, and that the theme will serve as a prompt for my Lenten blogging. I suppose I could just say I already did this (see So Far So Good below) but that feels like cheating, or making up the rules as I go along. So I will now elucidate three theological things I am thinking about right now.

• Becoming a Unitarian after a lifetime of thinking in terms of the Trinity requires some restructuring of my belief system. Not that it’s been that profound. As I child I thought the Trinity consisted of an Old Guy,  a Dead Guy, and a Bird which made about as much sense as the actual “God in three persons” explanation. Isn’t God in three persons sort of reverse multiple personality disorder? Which may be as good an explanation of God as I can come up with right now.
• I’m still working on the whole Unitarian thing. I get it that God/dess is one Force, one being, one holy whatever. But where does that put Jesus? And the Holy Spirit? I have an inchoate understanding which I can’t yet articulate. Stand by for more.
• Someone once told me that Sufism was not tied to any particular religion and that anyone can be a Sufi and still be Christian, Jewish, Muslim, whatever. Which makes me wonder if Christianity, in its following Jesus sense, might not have been intended to be more like Sufism than a religion unto itself. I know there are Sufis out there on my friends list. Maybe one of them will help me understand what I’m trying to say.

Three’s my limit. Sort of a post-Trinitarian trinity of thoughts. Maybe you’d like to share yours?

So Far So Good

Well, I may have hit on something. By starting Lent a week early, I may be building up karma credits. So far, I’m doing what I said I would do. And, this way, I figure I have 7 days I can slip up. . . .uh, maybe not.

The best Lenten discipline I ever did, one I actually then continued for another three years, was to wear a cross, visibly, every day in all situations. Those who know me theologically know that my theology is somewhere left of Jesus and I should never be confused with a conservative Christian. But when you wear a cross for all the world to see, you open yourself to all sorts of conversations. During that Lent, and the years following, I did a lot of evangelism (which does not come naturally to me), a lot of explanation (huh? what kind of Christian am I, anyway?) and a lot of listening. It enriched my life and informed my faith in ways I can’t even begin to enumerate.

I have many crosses and some are quite dramatic. Like the ones made out of horseshoe nails, or with inlays of black stone, or just simple Celtic crosses. And I wore them all. Everybody wanted to comment and engage me in conversation and some people were terrified that I was going to do some serious Bible thumping. Now, I actually know my Bible pretty well (although not as well as Jenny does) but I don’t believe in Scripture as a weapon of evangelism. I’m much more an inviting Christian than one who chases you down the street, threatening you with hell. Since I don’t much believe in hell in any traditional way, it would be sort of pointless anyway.  Sure, I can use Scripture to defend my point, and you never, ever want to play Bible Trivia with me if Jenny and I are on the same team, but I’m much more interested in the ways the world’s scriptures elucidate the great messages of love and community. So, folks who saw my cross and decided I shared their religious views often found themselves debating points of Islam, Judaism, Native American tradition, or even Wicca. I’m an equal opportunity believer.

Yes. I identify as Christian. I am also an American which makes me no less a citizen of the larger world and the even larger universe.  Although I speak passable French (well enough to play Scrabble in) and can muddle through in Spanish if I have to, I am writing in English. Not because I believe English is inherently better than French or Spanish, but because I think in English most of the time. It is my milk tongue. And so is Christianity. I am fluent in Christianity in a way I am not in other religions although I can speak in the symbol systems of several faiths with varying degrees of ease. So I identify as a Christian, not because I believe it is the only way but because it is the way that makes the most sense to me.  That doesn’t mean I believe in all its tenets. I did, after all, defect from the Trinitarians and am now happily Unitarian. There is much in the dogma that offends me and that I believe is irrelevant. But Jesus, the man and rabbi, is not irrelevant and I have decided to follow his lead.

So far, so good.

Lenten Discipline

The liturgical season of Lent is upon us and, although I have defected from the Anglicans and joined the Unitarians, I still find the challenge of a spiritual discipline inviting.  During Lent, it is traditional to give something up for 40 days, until Easter. Note this is forty days and not forty-six. Lent may be a season for fasting but Sundays in the Christian tradition are ALWAYS feast days so the fast can be broken to celebrate once a week. In fact, it should be broken once a week. Man, or woman, cannot wear a hairshirt every day. Sometimes it has to go to the dry cleaners.

As I said, it is traditional to give up something for Lent. As I child I gave up liver, because I wouldn’t eat it anyway. I tried to give up candy but that never worked. Now I have a more sophisticated understanding and this Lent I am going to give up lethargy. Since I have a chronic health condition that frequently leaves me with no energy and a desire to just stay in bed all day, this should be a stretch. Although I’m not so sure the exhaustion of fibromyalgia really falls under the rubric “lethargy.”

Lethargy, to me, is a sort of physical, emotional, and  spiritual laziness. It’s not doing what I could do.  There are days, literally, when I can’t tie my own shoes. But I can still put on a pair of clogs. Or at least my slippers.  There are days when I can’t unload the dishwasher but I can still make sure the dishes that migrate to other rooms in the house find their way back home. And there are days when I just plain don’t want to deal with the hard stuff of life in the spirit or mind.

So this Lent, I am going to make a real effort to do the things I can, even if I don’t feel like it. Note: This does not mean I will do the things I really can’t do. I do have a real medical condition and if I push too hard, I pay dearly. But I can do more than I sometimes do. And when I find myself being lazy, when I should take care of business, I will do the thing I am avoiding.

To that end, I have set these goals.

• I will not procrastinate on the unpleasant. If I have to make a phone call (I hate the phone) I will make it.
• I will journal daily, at least one line, as an aid to doing the hard emotional and spiritual work. Don’t worry, I won’t make you read it.
• I will blog daily about my progress when I make any and about other things when I don’t.
• I will work on my dang book every day. Even if it’s just finding the paper clips or reading some critiques from fellow writers.

So hold me accountable. Nag me if you must. (And I know some of you feel that you must.) And check back to see how it’s going.

What is a Christian?

Put two theologians at the dinner table, night after night for seventeen years, and you may find that they sometimes actually talk theology. They also talk about child welfare, writing, kids, and, lately, how cute and lovable the dog is.  Tonight, however, it was theology. Why? Because we have two feet of snow, the kid has our chains, and our cable TV is out. But we do have internet which allows us to stay in contact with friends and family, and provides us with ways to amuse ourselves.

Jenny brought the subject up. She posits that some atheists are trying to control the rest of us by demanding that all holiday displays on public property be forbidden. I, being always the contrarian, pointed out that Muslims, the largest growing religious demographic in the US, just had a religious celebration and bet that she couldn’t name it. I won. I knew I would. She then started to discuss the practice of female circumcision. After I uncrossed my legs and wiped the ouch off my face, I pointed out that female circumcision is not a tenet of Islam and that there are probably Christians in some parts of the world that practice female circumcision. Old habits die hard. I should have brought up the subject of male circumcision as well, since it is a Jewish and Christian practice that hurts none the less because it’s victims are newborns. I’ve long believed that it is a practice partly responsible for the emotional stunting of males. And I was glad I had daughters because my then-husband and I disagreed on circumcision, he being for it, I being against.

Then Jenny dropped her bomb: What is a Christian?

Of course, as a post-Christian Christian who take Jesus way too seriously to be a Christian in a society that has bastardized his message and cheapened his revolutionary commensality and radical inclusivity, I was stunned to silence. Since there are those who would call me Christian (mostly non-Christians) and those who would call  me non-Christian (mostly Christians), I had no good answer.

But, after much reflection, I have an example of what a Christian is although the person I am about to tell you about is more a Christian like me. That is, a former Christian who still follows the path but has left the dogma behind. She does not attend church, having finally given up on the institution.

Our friend works for the county, or maybe it’s the city, doing something with prisoners.  We currently are in the midst of the worst winter storm in 40 years, Portland is frozen under feet of snow and ice, and the city, or maybe it’s the county, is closed. As in not working.  As in everyone stay home and off the roads.  But our friend gets up at 5 am and walks four miles to her (closed) office in the snow and ice. Once there she starts calling around to find out who is being released and what they need.  She arranges for shelter vouchers, warm clothes (they are released in sweatsuits), other necessities. She knows that prisoners will be released come hell or high water and that they will need things she can provide. After about four hours of this (her office is, after all, closed) she walks the four miles back home.  She has done this every work day since the storm hit. (I think we are on day six? seven? maybe longer as our garbage was not picked up last Monday or this Monday due to road conditions.)

Now, I ask you, is she a Christian? I’d have to say yes. In fact, I’d go so far as to say she is a saint. Not in the capital-S sense, but in the small-s sense. Which is the sense all followers of Jesus of Nazareth, be they “Christians” or not, are called to follow.

Others may argue with me. She does not go to church, belongs to no Christian community that I am aware of, I’m not sure she’d even claim to be a Christian anymore. But she follows the teachings of one of the greatest teachers ever known in ways most of us would never even think of.  I’d have to say yes, she is a Christian. Even if she isn’t.

Running Mates

Uh-oh. I’m gonna get political here. You’ve been warned.

I strongly believe that a candidate’s first presidential decision is his or her running mate. Remember Dan Quayle? When Mondale chose Ferraro without vetting her properly first, I knew he was in trouble. Leader of the free world fails to do his homework. When Cheney chose Bush, I knew WE were in trouble. Puppet leader of the free world chooses puppet dumber than Charley McCarthy. So this is an important choice, folks.

Obama’s choice was brilliant. Biden is a known contender with some flaws but, those flaws are already known. Gonna dredge them up? Try the New York Times for the past 20+ year. Public knowledge. And Obama knew to play to his vulnerabilities. Youth and inexperience chose age, wisdom, and, above all, knowledge to complement his weaknesses. Always a smart move in a leader. Don’t know much about something, hire someone who knows a boatload about it.  And it doesn’t hurt that Biden’s son is stepping up to the plate and heading off to Iraq to serve in the Judge Advocate General’s office. Since so few of our leaders have children in the military, choosing one who does is wise at this juncture. The military, historically the tool of the  Republican-party-at-war, is poised to switch. Last I heard, from a military wife, was that eighty percent of the soldiers think this war needs to end. Now.

McCain, on the other hand, chose Sarah Pulin, a virtual unknown outside of Alaska. Her experience, while laudable in her rise from mom to governor of a sparsely populated state, is limited on the national scene and non-existent on the foreign scene.  Yes, she’s a woman. But she is no Hillary Clinton. She is deeply religious, which is okay. So am I. She is anti-abortion and chose not to abort a Down’s Syndrome child. I would have made the same choice but not for the same reason. I support abortion as a choice that should be available to women. I, personally, don’t know that I could have one.

McCain’s choice appears to be two things. First, an attempt to appeal to the disaffected Clinton supporters who want a woman in the White House. I want a woman in the White House. But not badly enough to vote for a team consisting of an old man and a woman who is clearly NOT ready to leave. Old people die. McCain is already in his 70s. Remember Reagan? Remember the advance of Alzheimers while he was in office? Do we need that again?  And, if he can no longer lead, do we need a woman of limited experience suddenly taking over? If he wanted a woman, he would have done better to chose Condi Rice. I detest her but she is smart and experienced. And she is an expert on Russia, a giant, armed creature we have recently been poking with a stick.

Second, McCain’s choice may be based on arrogance. Why, he thinks, do I need an experienced vice president when I am invincible and can do it all myself.  We already have that president. Look where that got us.

Sarah Pulin may be a perfectly nice woman, and her husband has served in Iraq. But raising five children and running a small state (yes, Alaska is a very small state by population) do not qualify you to be President of the United States.  If that were the case, I’d pop out a couple more, take over Oregon, and be President myself. Now, is that a scary thought?

A note to Hillary fans: If you think it is more important to have a woman in the White House than to end the war, repair the economy, educate our children, provide health care for all (you, too, will retire some day and Medicare is no picnic), and restore some modicum of respect for America in the world, then vote for McCain. If you think it would be better to wait another round or two until the next Hillary Clinton comes around, vote for Obama. Don’t be blinded by genitalia. Look at credentials.

Hillary Clinton is a star on the political horizon and there are plenty more where she came from. But Sarah Pulin is not one of them.

McCain’s choice is a risk. He thinks disgruntled Hillary fans will flock to his team because he chose a woman. I think Clinton’s fans are, for the most part, smarter than that. Don’t be sucked in by her gender folks, Sarah Pulin is not ready to lead this country, especially as we are busy pissing off the rest of the world.

Oh, one more thing about her. She supports drilling in Alaska. Not because she thinks it’s best for the rest of the country. Nope, she just wants to give Alaskans more juicy bonus checks. Already playing to the special interest groups.

Rant off.

Clarification

If you look at my tag cloud, you will find this combination of words: dog fears gay bishops.  I just want you to know that our dog LOVES gay bishops and doesn’t even fear mastiffs. The tag cloud is alphabetical and some day I might find a way to change that sequence of words. Although right now it amuses me.

Just don’t you believe it!

Religious Rant of the Day 7/31/08

Rowan Williams, the great white hope of the Anglican Communion (meaning he’s the Archbishop of Canterbury), is, according to a BBC twitter, going to be heading a committee that will look at forbidding same-sex relationships, retroactively forbidding OUT gay bishops (the closeted ones can stay), and doing so in a “let’s-make-a-deal” way with the African bishops who have been holding the Anglican communion hostage to their conservatism and lack of education.

Why is it a third-world person can be priested with six weeks of bootcamp while first-world people have to get a friggin’ master’s degree? Just another reason I’m no longer an Anglican.

Read all about it here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/7509125.stm