I'm SO not in Charge

In discussing my potential clergy call in a prior post, I noted that "once God wraps Her arms around you, She never lets go." It is truth. I was not able to abandon the discernment process. Instead, I was compelled to make peace, and to move forward with a gracious spirit. Excerpt from a recent essay assignment:

"To understand the need for clergy, we have to accept that Christianity is not a rational, civilized religion; rather, it is a wild and bloody mess. As followers of the Christ, we gather together each week, sit before a smeary altar, and watch as our priest utters words of incantation that change the mundane into the profoundly sacred. We kneel before a torturous symbol and insume the body and blood of our God via human sacrifice.

If we pretend our religion is otherwise, then there really is no need for clergy. But if we accept that we follow a God who demands no less than our bodies and souls, who did not spare even His own son, then we can perhaps begin to divine the necessity for those learned and brave (or perhaps foolish) enough to attempt the rituals that are an integral part of our faith. It is the clergy who risk standing before God in the rites of Communion, Baptism, Marriage and the rest. It the clergy who lay themselves bare upon the altar and offer themselves as a shield for the laity.

Clergy are called upon to heal body, mind and soul. They uniquely proclaim the forgiveness of sin. They pray, they educate, they comfort. They stand as a representative of both God and humankind in the midst of the most terrible times. Through death and disaster, Christians and non-Christians alike look to them for leadership, for comfort, for wisdom, and for healing. It is an impossible task, but they serve an impossible God, and nothing less is required."

Held in Freedom

I tried to bow out of the discernment process last night. The truth is, between running businesses and participating in a full-time grad program, I don't have the time to devote to such an all-important undertaking.

Besides, I see myself as an artist - a writer, a photographer, a mystic - and I can't imagine giving up that part of myself to become a parish priest, even as my heart beats in liturgical time to the Presence on the altar.

Also, the process has revealed to me the ways in which I still need to heal from my terrible wound.

The discernment committee listened carefully as I poured out these thoughts to them. They agreed that I appeared to have a full plate.

They completely disagreed with my conclusion that I was not called to the priesthood. They see my gifts as possibility for a wonderful priestly calling. I have agreed to postpone, not end, the process.

The warning here is: once God wraps Her arms around you, She never lets go.

Of course, She has had Her arms around us all from the beginning, long before our birth. We are carried, we are led, we are beloved.

And it all occurs within a blessed freedom - a paradox that is too difficult to understand, but still true.

A Question of Balance

Someone asked me today how I balance the math & physics side of myself with my creative, literary side. I said:

"Life is all about balance, isn't it? It's about standing under the sky at night and dancing with the stars. It's about love poems to the setting sun and sharing grief with the predawn moon. It's about walking in the wilderness and knowing that even if I die, some part of me will walk out whole, ready to enter the land of milk and honey.

"It's about looking at those around me and caring more about what they need than what I want. It's about laughter and joy and being gentle with myself when I do get knocked awry. It's about believing. And I choose to believe deeply in God, in good, in love, in those around me. I believe."

Vision Carrier

A friend recently told me I was her vision carrier, that I believed in her dream, and it gave her the courage to believe and work toward it, too.

I think we are all called to be vision carriers for one another.

A vision carrier does more than just believe in others' dreams, though.

A true vision carrier holds up a God-mirror, revealing each person as God sees them. For it is only when we can look upon ourselves as God looks upon us that we will have the courage to step out, to believe, and to live fully and joyfully in our dreams.

Trust

I have been asked by my priest to go through a discernment process, to determine what God may be calling me to. It is not the first time someone has felt that God may have a hand on my shoulder. This is curious to me, because I think I may be too wild a woman - not necessarily in behavior, but in spirit - to fit into any structured spiritual vocation. But I said yes, and per request compiled a spiritual autobiography. Here is the end:

"Through all the years, I have felt the tug of the Spirit. But I am still unclear toward what end She tugs.

Perhaps – probably – I am unsure because I am stubborn and lazy. I do not spend adequate time in Her presence. I do not pray often enough or deeply enough. Despite being given the gift of glimpses, I do not ask for the gift daily or even weekly. I am, in all ways, an inadequate vessel.

It does not seem to matter. When Father Jim approached me this autumn and, to my surprise, asked me if I was ready to start the discernment process, I threw up my spiritual hands. Fine. I do not wish to wind up in the belly of a whale. I do not wish to sit and pout in a parched wilderness under a drooping bush. I will go where God leads me."

I consulted with Father Dennis at a recent spiritual retreat. He affirmed that he too saw God's hand on me, and in response to my protestations that I am not an appropriate vessel, said:

"Trust. Trust the process, trust the people involved in walking the discernment path with you, trust God. Trust that God is calling you. Calling you to be you. Calling you as you are."

I think that is wisdom for all, whether we are called to sacramental ministry or to a ministry of our hands or minds. We must trust. Trust the process. Trust those around us. Trust God.

Let Go

It's time to let go of guilt, regret, lost hope and every other negative thing. I offered them up and God forgave long ago. I live in bondage by holding to perceived faults and failures. It is not humility but hubris that causes me to beat myself with these empty shells of memory.

The Christ asks tirelessly, "Can you stay with me now?" He wants me to through Him to the rest of the world - the Christ filter. It is beauty and joy; it is the fast-track to our dreams, to our Spirit dreams, infused with matter and come true.

Nothing is Forbidden

With God, nothing is forbidden. There are no taboo thoughts, feelings or actions. Within God, anger can be expressed, murderous thoughts can be formed, hatred can burble forth.

All is safe within God, because He soothes, heals, and finds the kernel of good hidden in it all. His transforming Love causes the ugly exterior to die & fall away as that kernel sprouts, taking nourishment from the dead shell of sin & evil, and so subsuming it all and transfiguring it to glorious Good.

In the End, Good Wins

If God created everything, and if everything God created was Good, then what we call evil must merely be Good twisted and warped beyond our recognition.

In that case, a seed of Good must still lie at the heart of every terrible act, thought & event, because evil is not stronger than God. It cannot destroy what God creates, but only mask it from us temporarily.

That means what we view as evil cannot be the final result, but only an intermediate step visible in this complicated universe. We can trust that in the end, every painful, sorrowful, heinous thing will be transformed: subsumed by the Good that lies hidden deeply within.

In the end of all ends, Good wins. And that is a hopeful thing.

God my Healer

Taize meditation, God speaking:

"Open yourself to me. Do not hold back any part of yourself - body, mind, spirit. I want it all. Open to me, take me in - healing is possible if you let Me fill the hurt places."

A rush of water, cleansing, cooling - the ocean flowing & ebbing, cleaning, cleansing. Then an infilling of deliciously warm water.

God my healer, my all.

A Child of the Kingdom

I am a child of God, therefore the entire Kingdom is mine. I can afford to be gracious & yielding to all around me, because I have no less through doing so.

Dance in the Downpour

God says, "You dwell upon the wrong things, child. Don't cower at passing troubles. Instead, walk boldly forward. Look at the showers pouring over you - love, family, friends. Hold your arms up & dance in the downpour. Live. Love. Serve. Rejoice."

Held Tight

After a bout of doldrums, I apologized in prayer to the Christ for letting go of him and succumbing to my own grief.

"No problem," he responded with a big, blinding, loving grin. "Didn't you notice? I held you tight. You didn't go anywhere."

Ah. It's not the strength of my grip, but the strength of God's that matters.

God to the Nth

Do I believe in an anthropomorphic God? Yes, and so much more. The morph-vision I had of God included human male & female, but also other, unfamiliar presentations. Anthropomorphism is one manifestation, but certainly not the entirety of the Godhead.

I am an 'n'-tarian: Trinitarian plus. As Christians, we believe we have correctly named three representations of God, but I suspect there are infinitely more.

God to the first power = Judiasm, Islam
God to the third power = Christianity
God to the nth power = me

The Mighty Mountain of God

I picture God as a mountain. There are many paths already worn up and around this mountain: major paths like Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Judaism & Islam, as well as less-worn paths. Most of us choose a path whose entry point is near us – Christianity in the West or Hinduism in India, for example.

Those who say, “I will forge my own path to God,” rarely ascend beyond the foothills. It is a lofty goal to strive to be in the trail-blazing company of Jesus, Buddha, Mohammad & others. The danger of ‘my own path’ is that it is very difficult to forge a new way. It is much more likely that we will miss out on most of the journey by giving up while still on the gentle slopes, after using up our energy hacking through thorns & brush. ‘My own path’ is usually a short track that leads only to a shallow spirituality.

Agnostics refuse to step foot upon the mountain, reasoning that because they cannot see the summit, they cannot commit to a path that claims to climb. Atheists spend their lives with averted eyes, claiming that the mountain does not exist.

The rest of us scrabble blindly upon the mountain on our hands & knees, unseeing but determined to forge ahead. How blessed are those saints who light the path for us, at least for a few steps! They illuminate, for a glimmering moment, our journey’s end: granting us a vision of beauty, love, hope & joy, & giving us the strength to clamber on.

The Madness of Mercy

We who have no hope must yet hope. We who have tasted death must look through it to life. We must journey & believe that we will arrive, though we suspect we cannot.

We must wear our inside on the outside, & believe that we can internalize that which is external, believe that we can transform it through our spiritual bowels into hope.

What madness is this?

It is the madness of mercy. It is God's mercy, which transforms all things into glory through love, mixing & blending all - good, evil, up, down, right, wrong - into a mad swirl Beyond our senses. We Name the swirl Nirvana, Heaven, Paradise - unknowable & yet deeply known.

Enjoy the Harvest

What do you have for me, God?

He replies, "It's the season of harvest. Relax & enjoy! Look also for opportunities for spiritual harvest, for they will be present." I sense that God desires my joy. To be pleased & excited with the gifts of the harvest touches Him deeply.

God chooses to need us, and our delight pleases Him above all else.

Tangled Knots - a poem

I give to you, O God,
all
the sticky, tangled
knots
inside of me

over
and over
and over
and over again,
Will I give them to You.

Until they fix
to You
and not
to me.

Until they
are totally
Yours,
and
You can
snap
Your fingers
and turn them
to dust.

She Who Heals

In a Taize service, I sit before cross & candle, meditating. God stands before me. She reaches into me and starts pulling on a large tumor of pain & hurt. The tumor has tentacles that reach deep, twining around my essential parts, its stringy fingers reaching even into my brain.

She gives a hard tug. It hurts like crazy when She does that, making my eyes water. But it is too twisted and tangled in my essence to give way.

"I just wanted you to see how deeply embedded your pain is," she says. "There is no way you can get it out yourself." I nod agreement, my eyes still stinging.

Then she taps her fingers together. The stringy, globby mess turns to dust & blows away.

"But I can take care of it all," she notes. She taps her fingers again, and the tumor returns.

"I just wanted you to see how easily I can heal. When you're ready, ask," she says.

A bell rings. Meditation time is over. The vision fades. The reading begins. It says,

"The pain & the wounds go too deep for us to heal alone. Only God, only a far Greater Power can penetrate such depth of pain, & gently, gently soothe & kiss us into wholeness. It is too much for us, all of it has to be given over entirely to God. All of it."

Why do I hold so doggedly to my sorrows? Uncurl your fingers, let loose the pain, be healed.

Heart Swap

In meditation, God appears before me in female form. She starts reaching inside of me. "You don't need this anymore," She says, pulling from the region of my lower right back, which always aches. I was once told by a psychic that this is where I store the hurts of others.

She continues to pull & fuss & rearrange me from the inside, and finally She pulls my heart out and looks at it. It is broken, hard & calcified. It's a very ugly dead thing in Her hand.

"Do you really think you need this?" She asks me. I agree that it doesn't look very functional.

"Great!" She says, tucking it inside her robes. "I'll just keep it." Then She reaches into Her own chest and brings forth a little blob of red, pulsing matter.

"Here," She says. "I'll trade you. Take a piece of my heart, instead."

She places it inside of me. I'm disappointed. "I don't feel any different."

"Oh, you will," She reponds. "Just give it a little time."

In Good Hands

Before cross & candle: “OK, God, what do you have for me?”

Instantly, my mind explodes with an amazing montage as God morphs male, female, young , old, father, mother, and even some representations that are so alien I can’t comprehend them. I see, in a flash, the tiniest portion of this Deity I’ve chosen to follow.

It leaves me stunned. It is impossible for me – or any human – to ever ‘know’ this Being. But in an odd way, it is comforting – I truly understand now that I’m in capable hands.