Opening our Arms and Hearts

Tags

Anglican, Catholic, Episcopalian, faith, ritual, social concerns, theology, worship

It’s funny to me how a church picks me. Yes, you read that correctly, a church picks me. I don’t believe I pick it. I simply come into it and wait, with patient hope. Is this the one?

Plenty have not been the one, and I have tarried a few weeks, seldom longer before moving on. Sometimes I know it at the first step inside the door. This is not my place. God doesn’t speak to me here. I listen. I act. There are plenty of places to wrangle about truth and comfort. I follow the Spirit on where to church myself.

Similarly, the attributes of a church are not always apparent early on. Much must often be worked through, experienced and digested before the finer points of a congregation and its structure can be realized for the precious pearl that it is. Such has been my experience anyway.

I could write volumes day after day of the joy I find in Christ Church. Most of it, I was unaware of until months had gone by. As I become more and more a part of this family, I learn new things that make my choice (the Spirit’s choice) to reside here among these people of faith, the right thing for me.

One thing I realized recently is that Christ Church is a radically open atmosphere in which faith is tenderly received and nurtured. For those of you unacquainted, an Episcopal church is often referred to as “Catholic light,” meaning that we look a lot like a Roman Catholic church in ritual. Dogmatically we are not so much alike.

That means there is a rather extensive list of physical actions that are available. There is genuflecting,  deep bowing or head bowing, curtsying, kneeling, sitting, standing, crossing. There is worship with heads and hands uplifted, or not. There are those who sing during communion and those who don’t.

All of these are practiced in my church. Everyone does “their thing” as it were. Most anything is acceptable, though I suspect anyone dancing down the aisle speaking in tongues and waving snakes might meet with some shocked looks and sharp intakes of breath. But you get my point. Rituals are broad, and people execute them as they see fit, more or less.

We in a word, tolerate, some significant differences in our congregation and the means by which they wish to worship. (We actually have two rites, one much more conservative than the other.) Yet we are one family, and we come to, I believe, rejoice in our differences. They cease to be matters of tolerance and become the beauty of the diversity that we are.

We are told each week, that Jesus calls us to the table, not the church. He calls us whether we have been “good” or not so good. The church provides the facility for God’s call and serves in the capacity of “hands” for God.

While this is all well and good as is, there is more to this type of openness I believe. By supporting and upholding us all in our varied personal ritualistic practices, the church draws us toward being more tolerate of each other’s theological differences.

Indeed we have theological differences. And some of them are deep and painful to us. Some of them you know for they are published by article and lawsuit. Yet, we have come to find in the faces of those with whom we disagree fundamentally on some issues, more places where we are able to agree.

I don’t want to make more of this than there is. The disagreements, as I said, run deep. Yet, we are able to still look upon each other as persons with sincere feelings and beliefs. We are not judging each other as evil or intentionally mean spirited. We see the humanity, the face of Jesus more clearly in the faces of those whom we have difficulty understanding.

I have concluded that the openness of our worship practices, the willingness not to be stultifying in our routines, stretches us in ways that pay off when we are called to work out the real issues that divide our faith tradition. It may not make the critical difference, but it helps.

It is another of the many reasons that I find myself so happy in Christ Church. Last Sunday, we were asked to group together in small numbers and discuss briefly why we are here, in this place, in this church. Joyously, I laughed as I turned and realized that my conversation would be with a couple of “visitors” from Minnesota. I was so happy to share my joy with them, and I could see from their faces that my words had an impact.

They are not contemplating driving from Minnesota every weekend of course, but I suspect they will take something home to their parish. Joy spreads, and the reasons for it become known. New ways of seeing and relating are explored. Opportunities become available. We must and should take advantage of each one in furthering the mission of Jesus.

Jesus was about compassion, forgiveness, and in including those who have so often been denied and turned away. We are a welcoming church. We welcome you, should you ever find yourself with nothing to do on a Sunday morning in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

Wandering Through Christendom

Tags

abortion, Catholic, Christians, Episcopalian, gay rights, terrorism, torture

There are times when I might be hard put to define what a Christian is. Oh not from a technical standpoint. Any good dictionary will do for that, and certainly either the Nicene Creed or Apostles’ fits the bill.

What I mean is that in examining the speech and behavior of some people, I’d be hard put to define them as Christian, and this from a person who loathes the judgmentalism that is prevalent among some of the faithful toward those whom they disagree with.

I’ve been known on a forum to exclaim more than once, that I am “stunned and would surely never assume this place was a religious forum but for the sign on the door.” I hear things said that are to my mind at least decidedly unChristian in nature. I refrain, I truly do, from the judgment that might follow, for I recognize that only God truly knows the mind of another.

Yet the post at AlterNet is truly troubling. It’s not that I haven’t read the statistic before, but well, this article is simply devastating in fleshing out the numbers. Fully 54% of non-Hispanic, Catholic, white evangelicals and mainline Protestants find torture okay in some circumstances.  More appalling perhaps is that these folks are “regular” church goers.

It’s almost incomprehensible that the teachings of Jesus can be so misunderstood, ignored, or twisted in order to support the intentional infliction of serious pain on another human being as a means of “getting information.” More shock? Those who rarely attended church were rather convincingly against torture.

Those of you who recall The Brothers Karamazov, recall the Grand Inquisitor having Jesus before him and saying:

“Didst thou forget that man prefers peace, and even death, to freedom of choice in the knowledge of good and evil? … We teach them that it’s not the free judgment of their hearts, but mystery which they must follow blindly, even against their conscience. … In the end they will lay their freedom at our feet [and] become obedient. … We shall tell them that we are Thy servants and rule them in Thy name. … We shall tell them that every sin will be expiated if it is done with our permission.”

It sounds indeed as if someone in the Bush Administration read the book and discovered the means to controlling people–fear.

There is much more in the article and I urge you to link up and read it. It is chilling.

***

Hats off to the Quakers! For some decades at least, Quakers have blessed same sex relationships. Now their full communion, meeting at York University, has opted to extend their efforts to legally marry same sex couples.

This relates to Britain, but I understand that American Quakers also bless same sex relationships, so I wonder if they are moving in this same direction.

I recall in reading Robin Meyers’ book, “Saving Jesus from the Church,” (reviewed here recently) he mentioned that he thought that perhaps Quakers had gotten Jesus and the early church most right of anyone.

This move would tend to suggest that at least to me.

***

Meanwhile, the Vatican is said to be none too pleased by the actions of the Drug Agency in Italy which has approved the use of an abortion pill in the first seven weeks of pregnancy.

It is not believed it’s use will be wide since it is considered to be “self-excommunicating” to use it, prescribe it or administer it.

It has however been being used on a trial basis and is commonly used throughout Europe.

It seems that even Italy is no longer safe from what religious would refer to as secularism.

 

***

As many no doubt have heard, at the recent General Convention, the Episcopal Church voted to end the moratorium on GLBT members who seek discernment as priest and bishop. All are to be admitted for discernment and processed without regard for sexual orientation.

It appears that such matters are underway as dioceses in California and Minnesota to elevate  gay priests to the office of Bishop.

Previous to this the Archbishop of Canterbury had urged that TEC continue to honor the moratorium. The decision to not do so was passed by a rather strong majority of voting members.

***

All Roads Lead to Here

Tags

bible, Buddhism, Catholicism, Deepak Chopra, Episcopalian, God, Hinduism, Jesus, Native American spirituality, New age, religion

I was answering a comment on an older post yesterday, when I thought of a statement I attribute to Deepak Chopra. I found the book, but could not find the statement. I’ll leave the attribution there, since I can’t think of anywhere else I found it in.  Get a copy of How to Know God: The Soul’s Journey into the Mystery of Mysteries, (2000) even if it’s not the right one. It’s a great book and will expand your thinking.

Anyway, that lead me to pull a notebook out which I hadn’t looked at for a long time. It was made during a period I call my “wandering time.” It recorded many prayers and poems and quotations as well as Chakra drawings, gospels of Thomas and Mary Magdalen, and various positive statements about life, me, and so forth.

This wandering time was a time when I moved away from traditional Christianity and explored much more broadly into the spiritual realm. I looked at Buddhism, Hinduism, Native American practices, as well as what is typically called “New Age” but is probably more properly denoted as “New Thought.” That is a poor label as well, since some of that goes back to Plotinus in the 2nd century or so.

It is where I learned really about God’s expansive love and compassion. It is where I left behind the Christian model of retribution, sin, and blood atonement in the traditional sense. It is really when I left Catholicism I suppose. Chopra’s book was perhaps the beginning of that journey, which traveled though,as I say,many stages and writings, from “A Course in Miracles” to the Bhagavad Gita, to Thich Nhat Hanh, and dozens of others.

With each one, my concept of God grew, and with it my faith. Ultimately it led me back to Christianity, with the tools to,  I hope, see the bible in a better and more truthful light. I have been able to find those Christian writers whom I did not know, or know well enough, to understand their message of an expansive, loving, gifting God.

In some sense, I now realize that it was not the outward issues of gay rights, women’s ordination, contraception, and all of that that led to my separation with the Roman church, but rather, it was something a good deal more deep. It was fundamentally how I visioned God, Jesus and his mission. And I realized that my model does not fit the “official” dogma of the Roman Catholic church very well. 

I thank publicly writers like Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan for helping me to see the real issue. It is in their books that I have come to this realization. Not that they have upended my beliefs, but they have in a sense validated them in a resounding and emphatic way. And but for the Episcopal Church, at least in it’s manifestation in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, I might not have realized it. Here I was encouraged to think out loud what I thought inside, without fear. It still shocks me sometimes to think of it as we sit on Sunday, discussing the issues, all of us near middle age to elderly, calmly talking about this wondrous  Jesus and his mission of inclusion, justice, and love.

So I thought, over the next few weeks, a couple of times a week or so, I might share with you some of what I learned along the way. My hope is that something here or there, you may find interesting, or of use to you. Something may resonate with you, something may be ahhaaaaa!, or perhaps you may discover that you’re not the only one who thought that! If I anger anyone, it is not my intention. But I do believe that there is no wrong in asking the question, and pondering alternative ways of looking at things. God knows it is done with love and intent to grow in faith, and that I am sure is enough.

I had this poem in my “book” but have no author alas. If anyone knows who wrote it, please tell me, and I’ll attach the proper authorship. It has no title either as far as I know:

The man whispered, “God, speak to me.”
And a meadowlark sang.
But the man did not hear.

So the man yelled, “God, speak to me!”
And, the thunder rolled across the sky.
But, the man did not listen.

The man looked around and said,
“God let me see you!”
And a star shined brightly.
But, the man did not notice.

And the man shouted,
“God show me a miracle!”
And, a life was born.
But the man did not know.

So, the man cried in despair,
“Touch me God, and let me know
you are here!”
Whereupon God reached down and touched the man.
But, the man brushed the butterfly away,and walked on.

 

Here I Am Lord

Tags

bible, Episcopalian, Exodus, Matthew, Roman Catholic

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I was a Roman Catholic, and was convinced that my serving was through becoming a sister in the Dominican order, one of my favorite, no, not one of, but my favorite hymn was one called “Here I am Lord.” I think there are a couple that go by that name, but this one went something like, “here I am Lord, I have heard you calling in the night. If you call me, I will follow, I will lead your people. . . .” or something to that effect. It was the only hymn that would drive me directly to tears, for I felt that in offering myself to the convent I was in effect following.

The gospel passage that speaks of giving away all that one has and following Jesus, was and is connected to that hymn to me. It broadsided me I guess you could say the first time I remember actually reading it as a Christian. It frightened me, and at the same time compelled me to look deeply at my life and where I was going.

If you read the bible often, you will no doubt realize that throughout the Old Testament particularly, when God spoke directly to humans, they always, always responded with “Here I am Lord.” I always thought it a bit funny, given that God clearly knew where they were, a simple, “Yes?” would have been sufficient. But it seems the writers who wrote of these encounters with God always saw a sense in the recipient of readiness for service that the phrase seems also to convey.

In the OT reading today, Moses responds to God’s call of him from the burning bush with “here I am, Lord.” Oh indeed I suspect that at least initially Moses wished he hadn’t since God had a great deal in store for Moses, much of which he wanted no part of.  Mostly Moses felt inadequate to the tasks set before him. Yet, of course, God supplies us with what we need, when we need it. According to a Midrash comment about Moses and the parting of the Red Sea, the Midrash writer says that God did not part the sea when Moses raised his staff. No, not until Moses, in faith stepped forward did he do that. (I am stealing shamelessly from our Priest, Barbara today, who taught us this.)

And in the Gospel reading from Matthew today, Jesus tells us that we must lose our lives to save them. To become his follower, we must take up our cross and follow.  And it seems to me the message is clear. God will be there to both sustain our journey and will provide us what we need when we need it. All else may be quite mystery to us. We may know almost no details, we may not know the purpose nor the end. We need only have that faith that sustains and upholds and provides as needed to continue. The cross is the fearless going forth in the following, not having any assurance as to the destination or the means by which it will be attained. And of course, it also means it may be done against the good wishes of many or most of our friends, family or even strangers.

Therein of course lies the rub. Just how do we discern when we are following the call of God, and when are we merely allowing our own preferences to slyly dictate a subconsciously chosen path? I confess I have no real clue. I can say easily that it is a intuitive thing, a deep feeling, one that seems, feels, right. But truthfully, “entering the convent” seemed the intuitively right thing to do at the time.  Similarly, moving from Roman Catholicism to Anglican Episcopalianism seems the right thing to do as well right now.

I have turned this over a bit in my head lately and while I don’t have clear unrefutable answers, I think I many have a clue or two. I came from no faith at all, and with exposure pretty much only to Roman Catholicism as a child. It defined my concept of church. I don’t think it is possible that I would have entered the arena of “church” unless it had been Roman Catholic. So I can but think that God accepted me where I was and saw this as a beginning.

Now with a more mature outlook, having spend years trying to reconcile my faith, my Church, and my deeply abiding personal views about a whole range of social issues, I have come to see that I must release that “childish” adoption for a more mature one.

Now I in no way claim that adherence to the Roman faith is childish. But my reasons for adhering to it were in a sense based on childish misunderstanding of what constituted “Church” in the first instance. I have no bad feelings against the Roman Catholic faith, none whatsoever really. I just realize that is not for me. It does not fit my mind and heart. And a religion should do that it seems to me. And no I don’t mean that churches should be “feel good” places either. But I do mean that we, each of us, is like a puzzle piece looking for our place in the picture.

We must, it seems to me, find a place where doctrine, ritual and congregation intersect in a mutually rational way for us. I met with the assistant rector of my church last week. She said to me, that as much as she worked for interfaith dialogue, we put too much emphasis on establishing agreement on all kinds of doctrinal issues. There is nothing so very wrong about envisioning God and/or Jesus in multiple ways. What is important is that we respond to the call of service to our neighbor. That should come first, and in that I think she is very right.

Rome spends a lot of time working, so they tell me, to collect all of us back into the fold. I suspect it will never happen. And I suspect God is quite happy about the arrangements we have now. More than likely, not a single one of us with our massive or not so massive denominations behind us, is totally right. We each bring threads of “getting God” to the table. The sad thing is that instead of creating a tapestry, we try to get everyone to agree to dye all the threads the same color.

So I see myself mostly as just another fellow traveler, climbing the mountain, meeting lots of different folks along the way. Some crossing my path, some traveling with me, others along a parallel or angled path to mine. Some no doubt are confusedly backtracking.  I have, at least for now, found a community of fellow travelers who seem to see the world as I see, and who see God’s call the way I do. So I’m not traveling alone right now.  I’m in fact having a joyous time. God seems closer than he has in a very long time for me.

While I could say, that this is me now, and that five, ten years from now, I might be some place else, I just don’t know. I tend to think my present Episcopal Church is broad enough, wherein I can lie with ease for all my years to come. I guess, it seems a church which continually calls itself to examine and re-examine itself. And that to me is essential. Times change, and God has new and previously unknown challenges for us.

In the end, I’m not sure that there is more that any of us can do than our best. I am here, Lord. I am doing my best, trying to discern your will, trying to uphold your will, and please you. Here I am Lord.

Time to Ponder

Tags

Catholicism, Episcopalian, faith, God

Usually, I do what I call a Sunday Editorial on of all days, Sunday. I knew that sooner or later I would come up dry, or at least having nothing I was particularly passionate to speak about. But then I realized that I did have something I was beginning to feel pretty passionate about, but certainly not in the ranty way I am wont to do normally.

A couple of folks were aware that today I was headed off to an Episcopal church to test the waters so to speak. I’ve mentioned that I’ve been having a bit of a crisis in my faith life. Not as I hasten to point out, a crisis with God, but with “church.”

Some of this has stemmed no doubt from my presence on a Catholic forum. If you are thinking of converting, don’t go there! You will get a very squirrelly rendition of Catholicism there in my humble opinion. They are ultra ultra right wing in orientation. They invite me to leave the church quite regularly because either I disagree with their interpretation of certain doctrines, or I disagree with agreed doctrines of the Church.

For a very long time, I have been content to be a “backpew” Catholic. After all, most of the things I was in disagreement on with the Church had to do with issues that I was not personally involved with, so I thought my dissent was personal and private and didn’t matter that much. I was not counseling anyone to disobey, nor was I working for the “other side” so to speak.

But on one issue, well I was in open defiance, but I’m not delving into that now. I will, I promise, but I would like to make that a several part series on my faith as a total experience, and that story is but a part of the picture.

Suffice it to say, I felt okay about the situation for the most part, and was content. But someone pointed out to me, not knowing that they were doing so of course, that things could change quickly. A new priest, one with a very different and ultra conservative outlook, could land at my chosen parish any day, and turn things upside down, and for the most part, be well within his right to do so. The magisterium does speak fairly clearly on abortion, homosexuality, contraception, and other things. There is little if any wiggle room.

The fact is, that for most Catholics, most of whom fall into the middle, these issues are not a bar to their faith. Most Catholics use contraception for instance, and most priests say that it is a matter of personal conscience. They often say the same thing about things like homosexuality and such. That is true to a point, but not to the point  that some Catholics take it. I have thought hard and long about these issues, read and prayed, and I’m still not sure I have satisfied what I perceive to be searching for a well-formed conscience.

Most priests avoid these issues, and I would argue rightly so. Sexual issues are not the major issues facing the world. Poverty, health care, the, justice,  environment, these are issues that should host the vast majority of our time. Once these are addressed, there is plenty of time to address sex, although I have argued that the Church rather wishes it hadn’t in the first place.

But any priest is in fact well within his rights to claim that parishioners who are in dissent on these issues are “separated” and should not partake in holy Eucharist. The question became, do I wish to remain in a church that may actively turn on me some day?

Thus, my voyage out into the Anglican world. I arrived at Christ Episcopal this morning for 8 am services fifteen minutes early. Nary a car was in the lot for this worship service denominated “Rite I.” I figured I had messed up somewhere. But under the self-imposed belief that any home of God is some place I have a right to enter, I boldly went forth. The doors were unlocked.

I found myself in a corridor, flanked with small rooms down it’s length. Some I could clearly identify: play room, kitchen, bathrooms. None were open, and I saw no doors marked “main church” or something to that effect. I retraced my steps, and went down the perpendicular hallway. I heard voices, and before more than ten steps, a voice asked, “Can I help you?”

I turned to see a gentleman, with that famous collar. “Father, I’m new, I thought there was a service at 8 am. Am I wrong?” “Oh, no, most certainly not. Your just early. They will be rolling in about two minutes to eight.” He introduced himself and I myself. “I’m an unhappy Catholic,” I proclaimed. He, and the woman standing next to him, laughed. “We get a lot of that here. Come let me show you inside.”

The church proper was much like any Catholic church I had been in. I like the long and narrow ones, with peaked ceilings. Lots of stone, lots of wood. Father Bill, (he actually introduced himself as Bill) said, “I’m was ordained a Roman Catholic priest, myself.” We chatted a bit, about my reasons. He nodded, and lamented, “Rome has now lost Europe, and it seems well on its way to losing the American church as well.” He said this with no glee, but sadness. “Yes,” I murmured, “I thought I was okay with being a backpew Catholic, but a certain hypocricy is creeping in. I have friends on the internet who have told me about the Episcopal Church, and that it might be more to my way of thinking.”

He spoke a bit more, assuring me that everything would be easy to fit into, then he left to ready himself, I to my pew. I had little or no trouble following along, many of the responses were identical to what I was used to. People genuflected, knelt upon kneelers, crossed themselves. In fact they did this a bit more than most Catholics do. ( Most everyone knelt for the Gospel, for instance, although standing is perfectly okay.) At communion, everyone goes to an alter rail, circling the alter at the base. I rather liked that, much better than the usual walking up and standing and receiving.

There were two priests officiating, Bill and the associate, Barbara. I found it open and loving in all respects. The handshake of peace was performed exactly as is done in the Catholic faith. After the service ( I didn’t hear it called a mass, so I’m not sure of that yet), I had a chance to talk more with Barbara. I had already met a nice lady from the pew ahead of me. We were chatting about Catholic ritual vs Episcopal.She too is a an ex-Catholic. She told me that the choir used at the 10:30 service (Rite II) was first rate. There was a beautiful pipe organ off to one side, so I imagine it will be quite lovely.

Barbara, is a small woman, my age I would guess. I immediately said, “I have no idea how I am to address you, Father seems inappropriate.” She laughed, “actually its fine to call me Father Barbara, or Dr. Barbara, but I much prefer my Christian name, Barbara is just fine. Just no Mother Barbara–only two people can call me that.” A bit more chatting and I said I would return next week for the 10:30 service.

Now the ultra orthodox Catholic will say that I received nothing of God there. No Eucharist, because no Anglican has the power to convert the bread and wine. Anglicans treat this a bit differently. They don’t believe in transubstantiation, but more than it memorializes the Last Supper in some mysterious way? I’m not quite clear, having not yet received a book I’ve ordered on the recommendation of Ruth at Visions and Revisions.

My response to Catholics who try to claim such power reserved only to themselves, is phooey! You make God so small and frankly you make God a snippy nitpicker. You make God the Pharisee who promotes form over substance.

I’m pretty sure I shall be leaving the Catholic Church. I’m pretty sure I found a home in the Anglican Church. I got that feeling which I get when I know that I have found the “right” fit. I never ever thought I would leave the Catholic Church. I dreamed of being Catholic since I was maybe 11 or so. It was the most wonderful experience of my life converting. I met some of the most wonderful people I’ve ever known, none of whom by the way, would dream of imposing such stultifying rules on anyone as the Church formally does, and as some in it seem determined to promote over everyone.

I never dreamed I would leave, in fact I rebelled at even thinking of such a thing mere weeks ago. I search broadly in my faith. (I’m reading the Urantia Book right now, and find it fascinating. I find not a think really incompatible with that and wanting to experience the fellowship of congregational worship by the way.)

It’s ironic to me that I should have yearned for something for so long, finally achieved it, and now find myself, less than 20 years later, ready to formally leave the Church I have loved most all my life. She is simply going in a direction that I cannot share. A direction that is mean, closed, judgmental, presumptuous, and arrogant. While God remains with Her, hoping I believe to guide her back to the real world, God I believe beckons us to grow in brotherhood, love, compassion, empathy. And this can be best accomplished if we perceive ourselves as flawed, not all-knowing as a Church, and thus unwilling to claim moral superiority over the deeply felt beliefs of others.

I’ll keep you posted on my progress. I’ll be reaching the point where I wish to discuss my full experience with God in a few weeks in my autobiography. If you are interested in such things, then come and join me on this journey of discovery. For truly, it’s a never ending journey of course, and it is endlessly unfolding, seldom in ways we expect, testing us, prodding at us, always giving us the unexpected. We are being taught you see, if only we have the wisdom to see that. The earth is our present day classroom.  I’m looking for an A, I say aim high! I may not succeed, but it won’t be for lack of trying!