1. Chocolate ice cream, no matter what your emotional state when eating it, has calories. Lots of them. Now, this isn't to say that polishing off a pint after a terrible day while soaking in the tub isn't a worthwhile endeavor. Just know that if you do this once a week, you'll be buying a new wardrobe for reasons that don't include, "Because my old pants are just too big!"
2. The qualities you really, really detest in another person are the things about yourself you don't like, either. I'm not talking about the things that just annoy us in another person. I'm talking about the things that cause us to lose our cool, that make us hot under the collar. We humans are masters of denial, especially about the less-than-stellar qualities of ourselves (and if you're thinking you don't have any less-than-stellar qualities, put down the ice cream and call a therapist). They might not be exact matches, but they are an invitation from God to explore that darker aspect of ourselves.
3. If you hear someone repeatedly telling you qualities of themselves that they are, usually in conversational directions that have nothing to do with personality traits, you can bet your bottom dollar they are the exact opposite. For example, if, while during a conversation about the current fashion issues of women's clerical wear, a priest suddenly says what a caring nurturer she is, well, you probably don't want to call her for pastoral conversation.
4. No one loses weight without diet and exercise. Sucks, I know.
5. Some people will love you, regardless. Some people will not like you, regardless. You will love some people, and you will not like others. God says love them all. Sucks, I know.
6. Spandex is never a good fashion choice, unless it's the gym, and even then, be discerning.
7. You will make mistakes. You will be wrong. Failure is never permanent, but when you figure out you've made a mistake, don't wallow in it. Reflect, discern, and regroup. We all had bad perms or dated the wrong guy (or girl) or broke up with the right guy (or girl). But God is a God of resurrection. When it's time, crawl out of the tomb and go forward.
8. We cannot run other people's lives. The most pervasive acts of violence are unsolicited advice. Most of the time, when people tell you their troubles, they simply want you to listen, not to tell them how to fix what's hurting them. Trust that if people want advice, they will ask. Otherwise, just listen, hold hands, or give them tissues when they cry.
9. When a woman is depressed, she needs to figure out why she is angry and express it; when a man is angry, he needs to find out why he is hurt and cry. (I read this in a book, so it's not original, but certainly relevant).
10. Settling for less than what brings you joy will almost always cost you something, so consider well before settling for something (or someone).
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Fools Rush In
I am bleary eyed and anxious, but it is a new kind of anxious. I have experienced it before. Before, it led to crushing heartbreak with a side of disrupted sleep. This time, perhaps things will be different.
Almost a year ago, I accepted an infant from foster care into my home and into my heart. She filled me with promise and joy. She embodied beauty with her big brown eyes. A gift from God. A gift of healing.
She would rub her little head on my chest as I burped her. She did all those little baby things that a baby should do. I did not realize at the time that she nuzzled her way into my broken heart and healed it.
I had suffered multiple miscarriages. Each time joy would be chipped off my soul. I was a disappointed mother, mourning the loss of hope. That little girl was a gift from God. She healed me. Through her, I was able to experience parenthood. I was able to love openly and unconditionally with no promise of love’s return. Little did I know that little girl was also a life saving miracle for her mother.
Life saving miracles are well and good, except when that miracle must return to her mother. I guess a life saving miracle is probably more important that a life healing miracle. She returned to her mother, and I returned to that empty space. I cried and wailed at her departure. People consoled with: “you did something great for that child.” I wanted to say: “She did something greater for me.” I wanted her with me forever.
I was crushed, and yet I was healed from the miscarriages. A miracle of love had indeed taken away my pain and left me raw. I felt like a fool. Didn’t I know the consequences? I knew that I took a huge risk in accepting this child into my home and heart, in caring for a child from foster care who may or may not have been available for adoption. I took the risk and lost. I was a fool.
A fool for love. I am a fool for love and ready to leap into that fire again. Isn’t that what God asks us? Will we love like we never have loved before with no net nor promise of return? Isn’t that what Christ does? He stretches out his arms on the hard wood of the cross so that all might come into his saving embrace. Yep, a fool for love indeed.
So here I am, sleep deprived and covered in baby spit up once more. I am taking a risk. I am placing my heart in two very small hands, knowing what I know now. I know that once again, I will or may be crushed, and I praise God for the privilege.
Almost a year ago, I accepted an infant from foster care into my home and into my heart. She filled me with promise and joy. She embodied beauty with her big brown eyes. A gift from God. A gift of healing.
She would rub her little head on my chest as I burped her. She did all those little baby things that a baby should do. I did not realize at the time that she nuzzled her way into my broken heart and healed it.
I had suffered multiple miscarriages. Each time joy would be chipped off my soul. I was a disappointed mother, mourning the loss of hope. That little girl was a gift from God. She healed me. Through her, I was able to experience parenthood. I was able to love openly and unconditionally with no promise of love’s return. Little did I know that little girl was also a life saving miracle for her mother.
Life saving miracles are well and good, except when that miracle must return to her mother. I guess a life saving miracle is probably more important that a life healing miracle. She returned to her mother, and I returned to that empty space. I cried and wailed at her departure. People consoled with: “you did something great for that child.” I wanted to say: “She did something greater for me.” I wanted her with me forever.
I was crushed, and yet I was healed from the miscarriages. A miracle of love had indeed taken away my pain and left me raw. I felt like a fool. Didn’t I know the consequences? I knew that I took a huge risk in accepting this child into my home and heart, in caring for a child from foster care who may or may not have been available for adoption. I took the risk and lost. I was a fool.
A fool for love. I am a fool for love and ready to leap into that fire again. Isn’t that what God asks us? Will we love like we never have loved before with no net nor promise of return? Isn’t that what Christ does? He stretches out his arms on the hard wood of the cross so that all might come into his saving embrace. Yep, a fool for love indeed.
So here I am, sleep deprived and covered in baby spit up once more. I am taking a risk. I am placing my heart in two very small hands, knowing what I know now. I know that once again, I will or may be crushed, and I praise God for the privilege.
What She Can Do
God is all about action, right? All about getting up and doing, so we can have something to show for our faith. Like we carry around our holy reports cards that we can flip open at a moment's notice (usually around others, so we can prove how amazingly holy we are) and show our gold stars of holy doing because somewhere, somehow, we must prove how much we love God.
Don't get me wrong, we need to have a response to our faith, an action response. Food needs to be served to the hungry. The sick need to be nurtured. The outcast need friends. Our faith and spirituality should move us.
But when we're so busy moving that we don't take the time to cultivate a regular prayer life, a regular time when we're patiently listening to God, could it be that the action comes from our own ego rather than that still, gentle voice of the Holy One? Not that God and good can't be in that, as well. We humans often underestimate the environment God needs to work wonders. But well-nurtured soil does make the plants grow better.
The great mystics understood the Holy Feminine and the Holy Masculine of God, the yin and yang of the Divine that, in our best selves, exists in us in balance. Modern psychology reiterates this, even recognizing that when that balance is out of whack (and it is in most of us) there is a price to pay. The Holy Masculine is about doing, the intellectual approach to life and to ministry that weighs pros and cons, the part that likes numbers and lists, the decision making part of God that picks a direction and goes. The Holy Feminine is about stillness, waiting, feeling, and being; about sitting with ambiguity and allowing ourselves to be revealed in holy space. In this space, God can turn our thorns into roses, our anxiety into peace. She can unleash the caring and loving soul we sometimes forget we are because we are so busy making decisions. She is the creative side that continues to create in each moment.
One is not better than the other, although our culture and our church would differ. For all the sermons last Sunday about how Mary sitting at Jesus' feet was the better way in that moment, the action of Martha is often lauded and valued at the expense of the stillness of the Feminine. Processes are valued more than waiting. Prestige, more than the quiet moments that occur between people that are never posted on a resume. Action, more than gestation.
The Holy Feminine will trust the slow work of God. She will sit, perhaps somewhat uncomfortably, in a space and pray and wait until the moment of clarity comes, and that moment of clarity may often be murky and unsure. She may look at all the rational reasons to say, "No," to quit, or to avoid and still follow the heart into dangerous territory. Love, after all, may be just another opportunity to be hurt, but it is also the best opportunity to embrace the sweet vulnerability of God in our everyday lives.
Getting in touch with both aspects of the Holy within our souls is no easy task. Carl Jung opined that it may be the most courageous thing humanity dares to do, to feel what we lack and search for it within ourselves. The call is not to pick Mary or Martha, but to grasp both of them to our very selves and souls to continue the quest to Holy Wholeness.
Don't get me wrong, we need to have a response to our faith, an action response. Food needs to be served to the hungry. The sick need to be nurtured. The outcast need friends. Our faith and spirituality should move us.
But when we're so busy moving that we don't take the time to cultivate a regular prayer life, a regular time when we're patiently listening to God, could it be that the action comes from our own ego rather than that still, gentle voice of the Holy One? Not that God and good can't be in that, as well. We humans often underestimate the environment God needs to work wonders. But well-nurtured soil does make the plants grow better.
The great mystics understood the Holy Feminine and the Holy Masculine of God, the yin and yang of the Divine that, in our best selves, exists in us in balance. Modern psychology reiterates this, even recognizing that when that balance is out of whack (and it is in most of us) there is a price to pay. The Holy Masculine is about doing, the intellectual approach to life and to ministry that weighs pros and cons, the part that likes numbers and lists, the decision making part of God that picks a direction and goes. The Holy Feminine is about stillness, waiting, feeling, and being; about sitting with ambiguity and allowing ourselves to be revealed in holy space. In this space, God can turn our thorns into roses, our anxiety into peace. She can unleash the caring and loving soul we sometimes forget we are because we are so busy making decisions. She is the creative side that continues to create in each moment.
One is not better than the other, although our culture and our church would differ. For all the sermons last Sunday about how Mary sitting at Jesus' feet was the better way in that moment, the action of Martha is often lauded and valued at the expense of the stillness of the Feminine. Processes are valued more than waiting. Prestige, more than the quiet moments that occur between people that are never posted on a resume. Action, more than gestation.
The Holy Feminine will trust the slow work of God. She will sit, perhaps somewhat uncomfortably, in a space and pray and wait until the moment of clarity comes, and that moment of clarity may often be murky and unsure. She may look at all the rational reasons to say, "No," to quit, or to avoid and still follow the heart into dangerous territory. Love, after all, may be just another opportunity to be hurt, but it is also the best opportunity to embrace the sweet vulnerability of God in our everyday lives.
Getting in touch with both aspects of the Holy within our souls is no easy task. Carl Jung opined that it may be the most courageous thing humanity dares to do, to feel what we lack and search for it within ourselves. The call is not to pick Mary or Martha, but to grasp both of them to our very selves and souls to continue the quest to Holy Wholeness.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
God's Siren Song
The only thing that can endure deep doubt or anxiety is deep faith. You will not allow yourselves to enter into complexity, ambiguity, mystery, or the partial darkness that everything is, without a very strong faith. You will close down. I have found that those who can tolerate ambiguity and hold darkness are those who rise to great faith. Faith gets purified every time you go through the cycle of doubt and failure. On this wheel of fortune just about everything is purified: our self-image, our God-image, our worldview. A full life could be described as these three worlds—ever expanding.
From Richard Rohr
We don't immediately realize we are out of the desert or the forest or the cave or whatever metaphor for the depths to which God has invited us, implored us, or, in most cases, shoved us on our faith journey. We blink a few times and stretch, still feeling the scars of the journey twinge a bit, and wonder what the new vision before us is. And we are probably hungry for Taco Bell.
What we see is different because we are different. No one descends with God and comes up the same. God moves forward and drags those of us too stupid and too courageous along. Because it takes that magical and mystical blend of sheer stupidity and sheer courage to drop into the depths with God. No one sane does this. Just take a look at the Christian mystics, the prophets, the saints. Great women and men, but edging on bat-shit crazy at times.
Sanity and intellectual reasoning stay put. "All is well," we hear our egos whisper. No need to wonder what if. No need to upset the proverbial apple cart. No need to see what might be waiting deeper in the forest. No need to give up power. Many people stay right at the forest's edge, where they can still see the way out, where they are still in control, where they are still safe.
But some of us wander deeper into the woods, towards the darkness. That siren song of God that only stupidity and courage allow us to hear and follow. Following is the real trick, isn't it? All of us hear God calling us to that new place. We can ignore God's call quite well, though. We humans have a knack for turning up the radio to drown out the voice of the Holy.
Something happens for some of us. Maybe the volume can't be turned up anymore. Maybe we just get tired of listening to the music that is playing, so we finally listen to God's whisper, and we follow. Following God is flat-out dangerous. People should pay attention to the warning signs and quit listening to the Jesus is my Boyfriend music that says a journey with the Holy One is all fun and games.
It's not. Just ask anyone who's been there. Worth it? Yes. Easy? No. Remember Jesus? He got crucified.
Because you will be changed. What you held dear will have been forced from your hands on the journey and replaced with something else God wants you to embrace. What you thought you knew you realized you didn't know. You have new gifts and treasures for the next part of the holy journey, which may or may not be something you expected. Probably not, actually, because if you had expected it, you would have been, well, safe and in control. Nothing changes or grows, not even faith, without sacrifice.
And the story of the journey is yours and yours alone for a while. Why do you think Jesus so often told those who encountered his miraculous self to go away and be quiet? Let the slow work of God take firm root in your soul, and keep walking until you blink and stretch. Let your eyes focus on the new vision before you and listen as your soul sings for what God has prepared you, for you are among those stupid and courageous enough to yell, "Yes!" to God.
From Richard Rohr
We don't immediately realize we are out of the desert or the forest or the cave or whatever metaphor for the depths to which God has invited us, implored us, or, in most cases, shoved us on our faith journey. We blink a few times and stretch, still feeling the scars of the journey twinge a bit, and wonder what the new vision before us is. And we are probably hungry for Taco Bell.
What we see is different because we are different. No one descends with God and comes up the same. God moves forward and drags those of us too stupid and too courageous along. Because it takes that magical and mystical blend of sheer stupidity and sheer courage to drop into the depths with God. No one sane does this. Just take a look at the Christian mystics, the prophets, the saints. Great women and men, but edging on bat-shit crazy at times.
Sanity and intellectual reasoning stay put. "All is well," we hear our egos whisper. No need to wonder what if. No need to upset the proverbial apple cart. No need to see what might be waiting deeper in the forest. No need to give up power. Many people stay right at the forest's edge, where they can still see the way out, where they are still in control, where they are still safe.
But some of us wander deeper into the woods, towards the darkness. That siren song of God that only stupidity and courage allow us to hear and follow. Following is the real trick, isn't it? All of us hear God calling us to that new place. We can ignore God's call quite well, though. We humans have a knack for turning up the radio to drown out the voice of the Holy.
Something happens for some of us. Maybe the volume can't be turned up anymore. Maybe we just get tired of listening to the music that is playing, so we finally listen to God's whisper, and we follow. Following God is flat-out dangerous. People should pay attention to the warning signs and quit listening to the Jesus is my Boyfriend music that says a journey with the Holy One is all fun and games.
It's not. Just ask anyone who's been there. Worth it? Yes. Easy? No. Remember Jesus? He got crucified.
Because you will be changed. What you held dear will have been forced from your hands on the journey and replaced with something else God wants you to embrace. What you thought you knew you realized you didn't know. You have new gifts and treasures for the next part of the holy journey, which may or may not be something you expected. Probably not, actually, because if you had expected it, you would have been, well, safe and in control. Nothing changes or grows, not even faith, without sacrifice.
And the story of the journey is yours and yours alone for a while. Why do you think Jesus so often told those who encountered his miraculous self to go away and be quiet? Let the slow work of God take firm root in your soul, and keep walking until you blink and stretch. Let your eyes focus on the new vision before you and listen as your soul sings for what God has prepared you, for you are among those stupid and courageous enough to yell, "Yes!" to God.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Uses for a gun in church
Since we're on the topic of things we aren't making up, a topic of debate in the Louisiana legislature included a bill in the last session about a citizen's right to bring a gun to church. Really, because Louisiana's current environmental, educational, and crime problems pale in comparison to a person's right to bring a gun to church. That is what our esteemed politicians should spend time debating.
People came out of the proverbial woodwork with arguments for and against, but I think so many people failed to see some of the real uses for a gun in church, including:
1) Making sure the preacher stays short and sweet. Sit a few pews back from the pulpit, and any time the preacher gets on a "love your enemy" jag or heads down that social justice path, just open your jacket so s/he can see the gun. That will shut down any references to the prophetic words of Jesus. And if a sermon goes over, say, ten minutes, just pull your gun out and let the sunlight shining through the stained glass glint off the black steel. The sermon will be over, just like that.
2) Keeping out those people. Anyone decides to visit your church with ideas of change? Just inform them that everyone likes things just as they are, and everyone carries a gun.
3) Adding some fun to communion. Just think how much your priests will appreciate the fun of passing out the body and blood of Christ, when they look up and see you coming forward to the altar rail with your gun held out, aiming at them. They'll laugh and laugh, after they change their vestments and learn how to breathe again. But trust me, in the end, they will think it's funny.
4) When you hug someone at the peace, tell them, "Yes, it IS a gun in my pocket."
5) If everyone brought a double-barrelled shotgun to church, the organist could finally do justice to the 1812 Overture. Said music would be very moving during the prayerful, reflective time before beginning worship.
6) Finally, worshippers would have protection against all the dangerous people that come to church on Sunday. We've all read the reports on the violence that breaks out between the sequence hymn and the reading of the Gospel, haven't we? And wasn't there a tragic incident where someone was accosted by an usher? Let's face it, Church is a dangerous place, with all that God-talk and dreaming of the kingdom language, we need protection.
People came out of the proverbial woodwork with arguments for and against, but I think so many people failed to see some of the real uses for a gun in church, including:
1) Making sure the preacher stays short and sweet. Sit a few pews back from the pulpit, and any time the preacher gets on a "love your enemy" jag or heads down that social justice path, just open your jacket so s/he can see the gun. That will shut down any references to the prophetic words of Jesus. And if a sermon goes over, say, ten minutes, just pull your gun out and let the sunlight shining through the stained glass glint off the black steel. The sermon will be over, just like that.
2) Keeping out those people. Anyone decides to visit your church with ideas of change? Just inform them that everyone likes things just as they are, and everyone carries a gun.
3) Adding some fun to communion. Just think how much your priests will appreciate the fun of passing out the body and blood of Christ, when they look up and see you coming forward to the altar rail with your gun held out, aiming at them. They'll laugh and laugh, after they change their vestments and learn how to breathe again. But trust me, in the end, they will think it's funny.
4) When you hug someone at the peace, tell them, "Yes, it IS a gun in my pocket."
5) If everyone brought a double-barrelled shotgun to church, the organist could finally do justice to the 1812 Overture. Said music would be very moving during the prayerful, reflective time before beginning worship.
6) Finally, worshippers would have protection against all the dangerous people that come to church on Sunday. We've all read the reports on the violence that breaks out between the sequence hymn and the reading of the Gospel, haven't we? And wasn't there a tragic incident where someone was accosted by an usher? Let's face it, Church is a dangerous place, with all that God-talk and dreaming of the kingdom language, we need protection.
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