The Merciful Gift of Judgment

Tarot cards are part of my morning devotions. They aren’t future-telling devices, at least not for me. Over many years, I’ve found they help me clarify issues and events. They provide an objective perspective and point out things I may have missed – my own private counsel.

Lately, I’ve been drawing the Judgment card. Every time it comes up, my shoulders scrunch and I have the urge to hide in a corner, because to me, judgment sounds a lot like tried, convicted and hung. I decided to do a little research.

Since I follow the Christ, I looked to church teaching for insight. I didn’t have to dig very far. Every Sunday we recite the Nicene creed, which states that Jesus will return to ‘judge the living and the dead’. What do we mean by that?

I found that the culmination of judgment isn’t verdict and sentence, but wisdom and joy. Christ didn’t come to condemn, but to save. In the original Greek, save in this passage (John 3:17) means to make whole, to heal. Being saved isn’t about avoiding damnation; it’s about developing into our best selves, into the people we already are in the eyes of the Divine.

That means judgment isn’t about conviction or absolution, payment or reward, but rather, it’s a method for personal evolution. It’s really a five-fold process:

·         reflect and evaluate  - what were the events, the emotions?

·         discern and learn – what caused hurt, healing, pain, joy?

·         release the negative – it’s not just allowed, it’s necessary.

·         enfold the positive – be lifted. Grow!

·         clear and open – relax and be ready for new things.

Judgment is something to anticipate, not shun.

My Tarot readings remind me to enjoy this moment of culmination, and to take time to embrace the merciful gift of judgment.

Insiders and Outsiders

Bishop Mike Rinehart posted this blog recently. It echoes my last post. Amen, Brother Mike!

Insiders and Outsiders

How Beautiful are the Feet of Those who Bring Good News

I've been noticing how church tradition/ritual can be a barrier to entry for many.

For example, at our church, you cannot serve at the communion table unless you wear pantyhose/socks and closed-toe shoes. Do we really think Jesus wore crew socks and enclosed shoes? During services, a former pastor at St. Mark Lutheran wore Birkenstocks on her otherwise bare feet. Apparently, she would not be welcome to serve communion with her Episcopal peers. I'm not trying to pick on St. Paul's - it's a wonderful church and I'm happy to be a member there. My point is, the state of one's feet should not be a condition of participation, and traditions such as these are not only socially irrelevent, but they keep people away. 

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the elegance of formality. My grandfather wore slacks, a dress shirt and fedora every time he left the house, even to go for a walk around the neighborhood. I would love to see a return to men wearing hats and women donning gloves. But our relationship with God, either in a private or public setting, should be different. Romans 10:15 does NOT say 'how beautiful are the well-heeled feet who bring good news.' Jesus didn't focus on external trappings; to the contrary, he had pointed remarks for those who did.

If our mission is to spread the good news to all, shouldn't we should welcome people in their place of comfort, rather than ask them to conform to our own? I freely admit, I'm talking out of my own calling. Ever more strongly, I feel compelled to reach out to people and make them feel welcome as sisters and brothers in Christ where they live, not where the church lives; to bring Christ out of buildings and into the streets.

The Power of Response

We cannot control those around us, we can only control how we react. Do we respond with love and concern, or with anger and fear? Do we enable others to be their best, or do we shackle them to their worst? Our reactions are that powerful.

Lamb, the Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal

I just finished Lamb. It gave me food for thought, because I've recently made life decisions that involve selling most of what I own (including my house) and getting ready to hit the open road on what seems a madcap adventure to follow the Christ. Here are ruminations about some of the quotations that struck me:

"You won't believe the wonderful things I've learned since I left here, Joy. About being the agent of change (change is at the root of belief, you know)..." (Lamb 305)

Change brings about belief – it is fundamental to belief. Stasis does not bring me faith – I must change, my circumstances must change, everything must change. The radical lifestyle transformation that I am beginning is ONLY the beginning.

"By following Joshua, we had already divorced ourselves of the expectation of normal existence. Marriage, home, family; they were not part of the life we had chosen, Joshua made that clear to all of his disciples..." (Lamb 364)

To follow Jesus as an apostle, I have to really understand that I am giving up a normal existence. I give up hopes of home, family, marriage and all other trappings of a typical life. I should not set out this door still yearning for those things. I need to understand that I am GIVING UP any right to even hope for them. I will not offer to God that which costs me nothing. I must understand this as I commit myself to a pilgrim life.

"What set them apart from the multitudes who would follow Joshua was that they had stepped off the path of their own lives to spread the Word." (Lamb 364)

The problem/joy/reality is, God offers me glimpses down different paths. Not all paths lead to all visions.  I realized this long ago.  I have the gift of glimpses, not the gift of seeing the absolute future. I see what may come to pass, I do not prophesy what WILL come to pass. I think it is because we have free will, and therefore the future is not set in stone. I sometimes see what will happen IF I make certain choices. Some of those (quite lovely) glimpses are unlikely to come to fruition if I walk the traveler's path.

"You all want to cast off what you own, leave your families & risk persecution & death to spread the good news?" Joshua asked.

"Yes!" they all shouted. (Lamb 377)

Am I really, REALLY willing to do this? Am I willing to be misunderstood, ridiculed and thought unbalanced in order to follow God in this way?

"Faith isn't an act of intelligence, it's an act of imagination. They don't need to understand it, they only need to believe, and they do. They imagine the kingdom as they need it to be, they don't need to grasp it, it's there already, they can let it be." (Lamb 394)

Do I have the imagination for this depth of faith? Intelligence will get me only a short distance down this path, understanding little further. I must hold my imagination. Am I willing to do this?

I am the ultimate Fool, because I have already answered yes, even Knowing that I do not understand what I am saying.

Chrysalis

Lately, I find myself oft walking in pastoral moonlight at the invitation of a rediscovered friend. It is a spiritual walk through grove and field, with much talk of theology and mystical views. We strolled last night ahead of a predicted wind storm. I could smell the charging air. Weather was indeed afoot.

As we walked through a grove, I was struck by how ALIVE the flora seemed. I swear I could feel the trees and plants bursting from their winter quiescence into an exultant sentience. I commented as much.

"Oh," replied my friend, Chris. "That's because we're in the midst of Beltane. It isn't just a one-day celebration. The party is still going on."

In contemporary times, Beltane is celebrated on May 1 - also known as May Day. It is a Celtic festival that marks the midpoint of the spring season. It is characterized by bonfires and birth, by the making and the springing forth of new life. It does make sense that the world would feel especially alive right now.

We walked into a open grass field. "Can you feel it?" I said.

"Indeed," he replied.

"I have the strongest impulse to roll in the grass,"

"Well, then, why don't you?"

So I did. I took off my coat, lay down in the grass and rolled and rolled and rolled. When I finally whumped to a halt on my back, I was so dizzy that the cloudy sky spun for several minutes, making me nauseous. But I laughed delightedly, and the spinning - and my stomach - slowly calmed.

I arose and staggered around. (I have a cranky inner ear.) As I wobbled home, I felt as though I had tumbled in long filaments of spirit-stuff, which were now swathed about me in a light, gauzy cocoon.

The feeling persists today. I wonder what will be born of this chrysalis?

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."