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.