This past Saturday evening, I heard a sermon preached by my friend and colleague, Fr. Mark McGuire, Rector of St. Paul's Parish in Lee's Summit. For the first time in nearly 3.5 decades, I was able to "get underneath" a Sunday feast day and actually be part of what is called a Vigil Mass. In the Church, feast days follow the lunar calendar tradition. The feast day begins with sundown and ends the following sundown. Also, I didn't have to think ahead to the next day's work. I could be present to the moment....a luxury not always given to active parish priests. Fr. McGuire's words were timely, accurate and well crafted.
He reminded us that names traditionally reflected the vocation and character of the individual to whom it was given. As I thought about that (later), I began with the discovery of the history and meaning of our family surname: Mann. We came from Scotland in 1747 and for a specific reason. We were being chased and "on the run" from British soldiers...a lot of them.
Our name then was "Man" (the second "n" was added after the Revolutionary War in this country). We were a sept....a special subgroup...of the Clan Gunn. Our surname reflected our craft. When not tending our farms or merchantile shops, we were militia for the chief of the clan....the "Laird's Man." If one is familiar with the story "Rob Roy," they were militia men. If there was a threat to peace, a brigand on the loose or a security mission required, the Laird (Lord, Chief) would call up his "Men" to carry out the armed mission. There were no standing armies in the Highlands of Scotland.
When Bonnie Prince Charlie (Charles Edward Stewart) tried to take back the throne by force of revolution in 1745, it failed. Prince Charlie retreated to his native Scotland and to the northwest corner...the Caithness...which is where Clan Gunn and part of Clan Stewart dwelled. My ancestors, militia, gathered to protect the Prince and to try to get him out of the country safely. Ultimately, it didn't work. The British landed two ships of troops, and one troop marched north from the border. Prince Charlie was captured and only a few of the subclan of Man escaped. My grandfather five times removed was one of them (John Man).
When searching the National Achives in Washington, DC in 1994, I found my family lineage materials. As the Revolutionary War began, John Man's son, William, volunteered in the North Carolina Standing Regiment. I found his military enlistment card on microfiche. I was stunned and moved to tears. Here it was....my grandfather four times removed. In the "Home of Family" line of the card, was printed, "Berne in North Carolina & Lately of Scotland." So my heritage was a people of the land trained to be fighters and defenders of their clan's people.
But what about the given name? Fr. McGuire had spoken of the names given to children at the time of circumcision at the time of Jesus. It described the deep sense of what the parents hoped or discerned of their offspring. Mary already knew what her child's name would be. It was given to her by Gabriel at the time of the Annunciation, "and his name will be Jesus." This name did not reflect anything of the family character. It literally means, "God is Salvation." In Hebrew it is "Yeshua" (Joshua). It most assuredly described what would become Jesus' ultimate vocation and identity.
I thought of my own given name: Frederick. It comes from my maternal grandmother's family. It literally means, "Peaceful Ruler." Since it is a longtime family surname in that family, one might gather that the vocation included some level of leadership or vested authority. I have not been able to research this part of my family beyond their arrival from the lowlands of Scotland in 1742. The Scots-English placed an "e" between the "d" and "r". The Germans tended not to (Friedrich, in German). I was given the name to represent that lineage of our families coming together in my mom and dad. While some parishioners would tell me it was the perfect name for a priest, I might take issue with them from the origins.
My point in sharing this is to add one more layer to the profound sense that name and heritage provide. All of us who are called Christian bear that name by virtue of the sacrament of Baptism. A sacrament is an act that alters the core character of an individual or object. It is an outward sign of an indward act of Grace....God does someting permanent. After the water of Baptism, the priest annoints the newly baptised with the words, "you are marked as Christ's own forever."
This is a great deal deeper than a vocation. It is a profound statement that one's entire being is being directed and shifted to a new way of being. The question to ask here is one that can only be answered in the heart of the individual who ponders it: How do we live into this fundamental shift in our character? What does "Christian" mean to us? I have spent most of my adult lifetime coming to grips with that. It's a kneeding and shaping process.
Thirty-three years ago on 29 December, I was ordained a priest by Bishop Arthur Anton Vogel at Christ Church, Sprinfield, MO. It is a sacrament and, thus, indelible. We call it an "ontological shift," a fundamental shift in our character....who we are at the core of our being. It makes those , who are ordained, vessels and channels of divine gifts and stewards of the Church's sacred life. I have also spent those 33 years coming to terms with the depth and profundity of that vocation. Far, far deeper than being the "Laird's Man" of my heritage, the name nevertheless reflects the unique place in community. "Christian Priest." "Christ's Priest." Fundamentally, each of us Baptized persons is "Christ's Man" or "Christ's Woman." However, this is not just when needed or convenient. It marks us in service forever!
It's a humble way to begin the new year. Whatever your tradition, or your heritage, ask yourself if you are living fully into what it means to be that person in community. It is a good way to create "resolutions" for a truly New Year.
Blessings in this Season of Blessings!
Fr. Fred
Sat Nam
02 January 2012
14 December 2011
"I Was So Much Older Then......"
My thanks to the song, "My Back Pages," originally written and recorded by Bob Dylan and later done by The Byrds (I have both on iTunes). This song provided inspiration for a meditation I did earlier this morning, and I recommend either version for some thoughtful reflection....especially for us Boomers.
There are some questions that just need not be asked. The reason for this is that there are no true, definitive answers. This was brought home to me in a recent conversation with my friend and confidant, Rainbow Mooon (her actual name...no misspellings...a story not mine to tell). There are five valid types of questions to ask in any given situation: Who, What, When, Where & How. Any question framed in those five categories will provide concrete data. The missing question type is, Why.
To ask a "why" question seems fundamental to our nature from the time we are old enough to speak and gather information around us. We who are parents well remember the incessant, "But why mommy/daddy?" to any of our directions or instructions. We often ended it in frustration by stating, "because I am your mom/dad and said so, that's why." So, the nature of command and authority begin to be ingrained in our inquisitive child.
What's wrong with a "why" question anyway? Simply put: There is no true data to support an answer. The ultimate "why" of anything is a mystery. In parish ministry, the most common question to come to a priest is in the form of "why." Most of the time, it is a misuse of language. What the asker means is one of the other five types of questions. Example: "Why do we have to do premarital counseling?" Really, it is a "what" question. "What rules or authority guides your requirement that we have premarital counseling?"
So, you think I am parsing the language too thinly here? Not so fast. Using the example above. If one followed the string created by the "why" question of premarital counseling, one would have to take in the entire history of canon law; the data that supports the experiences of countless marriages and pastoral preparations; the moral and ethical standards of couples actually lying in order to facilitate their marriage in the Church (happens all the time folks...especially these days); and a host of other factors that may be lost to us. This does not even take into consideration the non-spatial reality of the Holy Spirit's engagement in the process of Christian Marriage. The answer, "Because I am the Rector and the Church says so," doesn't cut it in truth. In fact, the "what" of this example is the very fact that the Canons of the Church require it, and I, as the Rector, am charged by my bishop to enforce said Canons. That's what guides the decision.
Applying a geometric approach: Our use of "why" questions is precipitated by linear thinking, which is "cause and effect." In asking "why," one expects to have a "because" answer that follows a logical, linear path. If one cannot answer definitively, then one is not doing his/her job or is incompetent in that job. Church Vestries (or boards) are masters at demanding answers to why something isn't working, or why numbers aren't up. I have never, in 33 years found the real answer to that question to be satisfying to any Vestry member. In fact, I stopped answering "why" questions altogether some years ago. That really pissed people off. However, the answer, "because it seemed right to the Holy Spirit to not go in that direction..." (or some equally biblically sound but seemingly nebulous answer) created a room full of glazed over eyes. The true agnosticism of the modern Church comes out in those moments. Not pretty. So, I would simply remain quiet or say, "I have no response to that at this time." Better for leadership to be seething with anger rather than risking the exposure of a shallow spirituality. I gave them the former "out."
To complete the geometric approach, the five authentic types of questions have a constellation of approaches in achieving an answer. They are questions that create and sustain community ownership and challenge relational integrity. Parishes often go through priests almost as fast as the NFL and NCAA go through head football coaches. The "why" blames a person, whereas the other five types of questions call the entire system to accountability. We are a scapegoat people.
While recently at Mayo Clinic for a consult and tests on my right shoulder, I picked up the most recent "Spirituality and Health" magazine. One of the regular contributors is Thomas Moore. Moore is a theologian, former Roman Catholic monk, therapist and writer. He is most widely known for his ground breaking work, "Care of the Soul." He has just published a new book, "Care of the Soul in Medicine." I had noted some material of his in one of the Mayo departments during my moving around for tests.
Moore's article was entitled, "Natural Mysticism." His premise is that institutional religion is diminishing. He cites a number of factors but summarizes by stating, "I believe and hope that the objectifying, mechanistic, materialistic, disenchanting, fully secular philosophy that has dominated much of modern life is ending." He had already stated that the Church (as a total tradition) had bought into this, and the world is passing it by.
What replaces this? According to Moore, a mystical approach the likes of which has not yet been seen (not a return to a past experience). He acknowledges, in another article, that a profound shift has already taken place in created order. This shift in energy is much like going from digital to HD. It is subtle, but powerful.
When I was a young adult student of theology and a new priest, I believed I did have all the answers...neatly bundled and based on all I had learned up to the point of my ordination. I lived in that heady fog of assurance for quite some time. Just ask me "why," and I could give you assured reasons and the books to prove my points.
Along the way, I have come to realize that the mystical way, described by Thomas Moore as being the causal and sacred spaces behind and just underneath our spatial based reality. We might think of mysticism as some kind of easy, fluffy, puffy kind of spirituality. In fact, the natural mystical experience is "the most grounded, intelligent and challenging kind" of spirituality (quote is Thomas Moore the the above cited article).
I was seemingly so much older and wiser at the beginning of this journey. I am younger than that now. The freshness of seeing the world as sacred space holding our reality ever so tenderly and surrounding it lovingly has given me a broader perspective and a deeper appreciation for the life I have been given. To ask "why" is to enter this mystery and to create a balance with it and the daily world in which we live. It is the tradition of Meister Ekhart, Julian of Norwich, Thomas Merton, Henry David Thoreau, and many more who could see where we were heading and dared to give us a peek.
Now is the time of our awakening!
In the Joy of the Nativity of Christ Jesus,
Fr. Fred
Sat Nam
There are some questions that just need not be asked. The reason for this is that there are no true, definitive answers. This was brought home to me in a recent conversation with my friend and confidant, Rainbow Mooon (her actual name...no misspellings...a story not mine to tell). There are five valid types of questions to ask in any given situation: Who, What, When, Where & How. Any question framed in those five categories will provide concrete data. The missing question type is, Why.
To ask a "why" question seems fundamental to our nature from the time we are old enough to speak and gather information around us. We who are parents well remember the incessant, "But why mommy/daddy?" to any of our directions or instructions. We often ended it in frustration by stating, "because I am your mom/dad and said so, that's why." So, the nature of command and authority begin to be ingrained in our inquisitive child.
What's wrong with a "why" question anyway? Simply put: There is no true data to support an answer. The ultimate "why" of anything is a mystery. In parish ministry, the most common question to come to a priest is in the form of "why." Most of the time, it is a misuse of language. What the asker means is one of the other five types of questions. Example: "Why do we have to do premarital counseling?" Really, it is a "what" question. "What rules or authority guides your requirement that we have premarital counseling?"
So, you think I am parsing the language too thinly here? Not so fast. Using the example above. If one followed the string created by the "why" question of premarital counseling, one would have to take in the entire history of canon law; the data that supports the experiences of countless marriages and pastoral preparations; the moral and ethical standards of couples actually lying in order to facilitate their marriage in the Church (happens all the time folks...especially these days); and a host of other factors that may be lost to us. This does not even take into consideration the non-spatial reality of the Holy Spirit's engagement in the process of Christian Marriage. The answer, "Because I am the Rector and the Church says so," doesn't cut it in truth. In fact, the "what" of this example is the very fact that the Canons of the Church require it, and I, as the Rector, am charged by my bishop to enforce said Canons. That's what guides the decision.
Applying a geometric approach: Our use of "why" questions is precipitated by linear thinking, which is "cause and effect." In asking "why," one expects to have a "because" answer that follows a logical, linear path. If one cannot answer definitively, then one is not doing his/her job or is incompetent in that job. Church Vestries (or boards) are masters at demanding answers to why something isn't working, or why numbers aren't up. I have never, in 33 years found the real answer to that question to be satisfying to any Vestry member. In fact, I stopped answering "why" questions altogether some years ago. That really pissed people off. However, the answer, "because it seemed right to the Holy Spirit to not go in that direction..." (or some equally biblically sound but seemingly nebulous answer) created a room full of glazed over eyes. The true agnosticism of the modern Church comes out in those moments. Not pretty. So, I would simply remain quiet or say, "I have no response to that at this time." Better for leadership to be seething with anger rather than risking the exposure of a shallow spirituality. I gave them the former "out."
To complete the geometric approach, the five authentic types of questions have a constellation of approaches in achieving an answer. They are questions that create and sustain community ownership and challenge relational integrity. Parishes often go through priests almost as fast as the NFL and NCAA go through head football coaches. The "why" blames a person, whereas the other five types of questions call the entire system to accountability. We are a scapegoat people.
While recently at Mayo Clinic for a consult and tests on my right shoulder, I picked up the most recent "Spirituality and Health" magazine. One of the regular contributors is Thomas Moore. Moore is a theologian, former Roman Catholic monk, therapist and writer. He is most widely known for his ground breaking work, "Care of the Soul." He has just published a new book, "Care of the Soul in Medicine." I had noted some material of his in one of the Mayo departments during my moving around for tests.
Moore's article was entitled, "Natural Mysticism." His premise is that institutional religion is diminishing. He cites a number of factors but summarizes by stating, "I believe and hope that the objectifying, mechanistic, materialistic, disenchanting, fully secular philosophy that has dominated much of modern life is ending." He had already stated that the Church (as a total tradition) had bought into this, and the world is passing it by.
What replaces this? According to Moore, a mystical approach the likes of which has not yet been seen (not a return to a past experience). He acknowledges, in another article, that a profound shift has already taken place in created order. This shift in energy is much like going from digital to HD. It is subtle, but powerful.
When I was a young adult student of theology and a new priest, I believed I did have all the answers...neatly bundled and based on all I had learned up to the point of my ordination. I lived in that heady fog of assurance for quite some time. Just ask me "why," and I could give you assured reasons and the books to prove my points.
Along the way, I have come to realize that the mystical way, described by Thomas Moore as being the causal and sacred spaces behind and just underneath our spatial based reality. We might think of mysticism as some kind of easy, fluffy, puffy kind of spirituality. In fact, the natural mystical experience is "the most grounded, intelligent and challenging kind" of spirituality (quote is Thomas Moore the the above cited article).
I was seemingly so much older and wiser at the beginning of this journey. I am younger than that now. The freshness of seeing the world as sacred space holding our reality ever so tenderly and surrounding it lovingly has given me a broader perspective and a deeper appreciation for the life I have been given. To ask "why" is to enter this mystery and to create a balance with it and the daily world in which we live. It is the tradition of Meister Ekhart, Julian of Norwich, Thomas Merton, Henry David Thoreau, and many more who could see where we were heading and dared to give us a peek.
Now is the time of our awakening!
In the Joy of the Nativity of Christ Jesus,
Fr. Fred
Sat Nam
03 December 2011
The Coming
The Christian season of Advent really does seem to sneak up on us. I think it has something to do with the activities of the late summer/fall seasonal cycle of school, work, sports and the many preoccupations that make the days seem to pass all too quickly. I just celebrated my 61st birthday and awoke to the reality that, just yesterday, I was thinking I still had three months until the event. The "yesterday" was three months ago. Now, here I was, driving to meet a dear friend for a birthday lunch and caught with the realization that it was now. It also meant that we had crossed into that season called "Advent"... the Coming.
Since my retirement, at the end of June, from active parish ministry, I have operated outside the intimacy of the liturgical year. As a parish priest, my life was driven by the engine of liturgical planning and the liturgical year....the inexorable cycle of moving through the calendar year in a sacred manner. Even with retirement, I have noticed that the "liturgical clock" keeps working somewhere deep inside. I just no longer have to plan and structure the environment in which that will be expressed. Now, I simply walk with it. As I step into the parish at which I happen to be worshipping (either Saturday evening or Sunday morning), I am now a passenger and sojourner in the environment created by others. For a guy like me, it took some getting used to .... turning my mind from planning, design, teaching, preaching to opening my heart for the experience into which I step.
Entering this Advent season, I carry some burdens that drive my daily schedule. There is the sale of our home and keeping everything at prime readiness for the next potential buyer's visit with an agent. There is always tweeking, touching up and cleaning up to keep everything as close to readiness as possible.
There is the purchase of our townhome in Sarasota, FL. It is in the process of being built as part of the development's final stage of completion. Not as much is required of us at this point. The major work was accomplished between the end of July and the first part of October. We are now in something of a waiting stage...being kept informed at every stage of building by the really good staff of folks who have guided us through the process. This is an anticipatory experience. It is the coordination of the sale of this house with the closing on the townhome that creates the minor anxiety.
Then, there is the change in my "new" shoulder joint. Even though the surgery was almost fourteen months ago, I really felt that I was only beginning to know this new titanium friend connecting my arm to my torso. Something began to change in the latter part of July, and mobility decreased from about 95% to probably about 40% in the space of a month. Pain began to replace the relative calm of post healing life with a replaced joint. At first, it was thought to be scar tissue forming (which happens). Renewed therapeutic exercises did nothing to help. Then, with xrays, it seemed as though I might have torn part of the rotator cuff system...much of which has to be cut during surgery to get to the bones that make the joint. A CT scan and other tests showed no tears but a lot of inflammation and fluid build up. Infection? Two aspirations and cultures showed no infection. Now, I am heading to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN for an evaluation and consult with the orthopedist considered the best in the country for this kind of thing. My surgeon here set this up.
Three words move through my mind as I experience life in this season: Now, Should, Ought. One might rightly ask what these words can possibly have in common. My experience of them come after years of living sacred cycles and now exercising the contemplative practices.
Let's start with the future tense words. Should suggests that there may be some directive to accomplish an act or a task in a specific manner or time frame. How often have we said to ourselves, "I should go to the grocery store tomorrow." Or, "You should rethink your decision about that job." It implies that self or the one speaking has the correct end result in mind and/or there is some kind of law "out there" that demands our movement in that particular direction.
Ought suggests that there is an obligation to function in a specific manner. It is a stronger word than "should." It implies that the one using the word knows exactly what must be done and lays the obligation upon the receiver to do it. The speaker is also suggesting that he/she knows what is best for the other, and the other risks rejection if it is not done. Examples: "You ought to take that job offer." "As a good Christian, you ought to believe this way (name it)." Of course, we can "ought" ourselves...as if there is an internal policeman or judge enforcing a law.
It is my earnest opinion that the words "should" and "ought" need to be removed from our active language. Someone recently told me that, in my retirement, I should engage in a specific program of activity for my future. While still in parish ministry, a parishioner sat in my office and told me, "You should never have been a parish priest." This, after 31 years of doing that work. What omniscience do these folks possess that they know the direction of the Holy Spirit. Should and ought border on blasphemous language.
What about "now?" The suggestion is obvious. It is the moment. It is the time, space, and action that is taking place as we engage life in "real time." It is an unfolding. And, now is eternal.
That last statement above may catch us out a bit. Now is eternal? Yes, because it is always now. Now never leaves us. It call us to be present to ourselves, to our environment and to one another in the moment. That moment is always here. How much time is spent bemoaning what we "should have done" or "ought to have done." It's wasted energy and time. It calls us to realize that we are not perfect or omniscient. If so, we would have known and done what we now regret. Instead, why not simply affirm the thoughts and actions of the past and determine what needs to be done now to adjust the actions of this moment. The past becomes a resource for being now.
We do have some obligation to plan and prepare for the future, but cannot write the script. Life -- both spatial and eternal -- is fluid. I could not have anticipated that the work ahead of me would include probably having my "new" shoulder replaced and undergoing whatever procedure and process will lead to healing the mess in that joint. We had no idea that we would be moving to Florida until literally 10 days before I retired. Even then, it didn't become a more solid reality until late July. The future of life is always fluid. All that we have that is concrete are the actions, thoughts and engagement of now.
While Advent literally means "Coming." It is what we do now that makes us ready to receive the Grace of God in Christ Jesus. It is now that opens us to the full experience of God's Love. It is now that awakens us to the presence of the Kingdom and the insight into our purpose for being.
As I write this, I look out the window at the barren maple tree in our front yard and the pin oak, whose bronze leaves hold tenaciously to the branches until spring buds or strong winds push them away. In the moment, they look dead. But they simply sleep for a time. They are in the moment of their reality.
Can we be so present to our moment that we respond with the fullness of life and light? Every moment is a now to be embraced and celebrated. Only if the lamps remain lighted will we be present for the bridegroom's arrival. Our destiny is always......now!
In Christ's Love,
Fr. Fred+
Sat Nam
Since my retirement, at the end of June, from active parish ministry, I have operated outside the intimacy of the liturgical year. As a parish priest, my life was driven by the engine of liturgical planning and the liturgical year....the inexorable cycle of moving through the calendar year in a sacred manner. Even with retirement, I have noticed that the "liturgical clock" keeps working somewhere deep inside. I just no longer have to plan and structure the environment in which that will be expressed. Now, I simply walk with it. As I step into the parish at which I happen to be worshipping (either Saturday evening or Sunday morning), I am now a passenger and sojourner in the environment created by others. For a guy like me, it took some getting used to .... turning my mind from planning, design, teaching, preaching to opening my heart for the experience into which I step.
Entering this Advent season, I carry some burdens that drive my daily schedule. There is the sale of our home and keeping everything at prime readiness for the next potential buyer's visit with an agent. There is always tweeking, touching up and cleaning up to keep everything as close to readiness as possible.
There is the purchase of our townhome in Sarasota, FL. It is in the process of being built as part of the development's final stage of completion. Not as much is required of us at this point. The major work was accomplished between the end of July and the first part of October. We are now in something of a waiting stage...being kept informed at every stage of building by the really good staff of folks who have guided us through the process. This is an anticipatory experience. It is the coordination of the sale of this house with the closing on the townhome that creates the minor anxiety.
Then, there is the change in my "new" shoulder joint. Even though the surgery was almost fourteen months ago, I really felt that I was only beginning to know this new titanium friend connecting my arm to my torso. Something began to change in the latter part of July, and mobility decreased from about 95% to probably about 40% in the space of a month. Pain began to replace the relative calm of post healing life with a replaced joint. At first, it was thought to be scar tissue forming (which happens). Renewed therapeutic exercises did nothing to help. Then, with xrays, it seemed as though I might have torn part of the rotator cuff system...much of which has to be cut during surgery to get to the bones that make the joint. A CT scan and other tests showed no tears but a lot of inflammation and fluid build up. Infection? Two aspirations and cultures showed no infection. Now, I am heading to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN for an evaluation and consult with the orthopedist considered the best in the country for this kind of thing. My surgeon here set this up.
Three words move through my mind as I experience life in this season: Now, Should, Ought. One might rightly ask what these words can possibly have in common. My experience of them come after years of living sacred cycles and now exercising the contemplative practices.
Let's start with the future tense words. Should suggests that there may be some directive to accomplish an act or a task in a specific manner or time frame. How often have we said to ourselves, "I should go to the grocery store tomorrow." Or, "You should rethink your decision about that job." It implies that self or the one speaking has the correct end result in mind and/or there is some kind of law "out there" that demands our movement in that particular direction.
Ought suggests that there is an obligation to function in a specific manner. It is a stronger word than "should." It implies that the one using the word knows exactly what must be done and lays the obligation upon the receiver to do it. The speaker is also suggesting that he/she knows what is best for the other, and the other risks rejection if it is not done. Examples: "You ought to take that job offer." "As a good Christian, you ought to believe this way (name it)." Of course, we can "ought" ourselves...as if there is an internal policeman or judge enforcing a law.
It is my earnest opinion that the words "should" and "ought" need to be removed from our active language. Someone recently told me that, in my retirement, I should engage in a specific program of activity for my future. While still in parish ministry, a parishioner sat in my office and told me, "You should never have been a parish priest." This, after 31 years of doing that work. What omniscience do these folks possess that they know the direction of the Holy Spirit. Should and ought border on blasphemous language.
What about "now?" The suggestion is obvious. It is the moment. It is the time, space, and action that is taking place as we engage life in "real time." It is an unfolding. And, now is eternal.
That last statement above may catch us out a bit. Now is eternal? Yes, because it is always now. Now never leaves us. It call us to be present to ourselves, to our environment and to one another in the moment. That moment is always here. How much time is spent bemoaning what we "should have done" or "ought to have done." It's wasted energy and time. It calls us to realize that we are not perfect or omniscient. If so, we would have known and done what we now regret. Instead, why not simply affirm the thoughts and actions of the past and determine what needs to be done now to adjust the actions of this moment. The past becomes a resource for being now.
We do have some obligation to plan and prepare for the future, but cannot write the script. Life -- both spatial and eternal -- is fluid. I could not have anticipated that the work ahead of me would include probably having my "new" shoulder replaced and undergoing whatever procedure and process will lead to healing the mess in that joint. We had no idea that we would be moving to Florida until literally 10 days before I retired. Even then, it didn't become a more solid reality until late July. The future of life is always fluid. All that we have that is concrete are the actions, thoughts and engagement of now.
While Advent literally means "Coming." It is what we do now that makes us ready to receive the Grace of God in Christ Jesus. It is now that opens us to the full experience of God's Love. It is now that awakens us to the presence of the Kingdom and the insight into our purpose for being.
As I write this, I look out the window at the barren maple tree in our front yard and the pin oak, whose bronze leaves hold tenaciously to the branches until spring buds or strong winds push them away. In the moment, they look dead. But they simply sleep for a time. They are in the moment of their reality.
Can we be so present to our moment that we respond with the fullness of life and light? Every moment is a now to be embraced and celebrated. Only if the lamps remain lighted will we be present for the bridegroom's arrival. Our destiny is always......now!
In Christ's Love,
Fr. Fred+
Sat Nam
16 November 2011
Sit In It
In the 1991 movie, Fisher King, Robin Williams plays the part of a once successful married man whose wife was one of a number of persons killed by a rampant gunman in a restaurant. Williams' character loses himself after a period of catatonia and lives as a homeless guy. Jeff Bridges plays the radio personality who believes himself the cause of the psychotic gunman going on the rampage. It is a movie worth seeing for a lot of reasons.
Occasionally, in the movie, Robin Williams' character is confronted by the vision of a fiery red knight on horseback charging him. Williams' character is terrified and flees for his life each time. As my wife and I watched this movie in a theater, she finally had to punch me, because, each time the red knight appeared I would audibly exclaim, "turn and face him dammit!" My advanced psychology training is a combination of Jungian analysis and Bowen Theory.
Writer, Ursula Leguin, created a series in the late 1970s that has come to be known as The Earthsea Trilogy. The books are about a wizard named Ged and his journey through life. The first book centers on his development. His mentor sends him to the special school for those gifted as wizards. In the cockiness of his youth, he conjures a deeply dark figure that kills one of his teachers and begins pursuing Ged all over Earthsea. Finally, exhausted and near death, Ged finds himself at the home of his childhood mentor. After nursing him to health, the mentor tells Ged that he must cease running and turn to face this hideous dark creature. When Ged and his conjured dark monster finally meet and grapple, Ged's eyes are opened to the reality that the creature is his own dark side and ultimate death...the two aspects of being we are most afraid to encounter.
We recently celebrated All Saints' in the Christian calendar of festivals. We have done serious injustice to the saints by placing them on pedestals and pronouncing them as perfect...as if they had no shadow side or capacity for error, anger, fear or maliciousness. Thomas Merton called our common view of saints as "plaster casts that only represent a false reality." For many years, I was one of those that Merton was speaking to.
Shortly after the death of my mother in late 1987, I felt myself stuck in what seemed like a thick, sucking mud. I went to see a psychotherapist friend for insight. Her first question to me was, "what do you most want to be when you finish here?" Without blinking or hesitating, I blurted, "...A Saint!" I found myself in gales of tears. Her measured response to my stunning revelation was, "Well, my friend, you have set yourself a rather impossible goal don't you know..."
My father had died suddenly of a heart attack just a few weeks prior to graduation from high school in 1968. It was a huge loss for a 17 year old, who actually treasured his dad (though we did have our disagreements). It took me 19 years to realize that I had been running from his death...and...thereby...from my own. He was only 54 years old. Mom was 64 when she died. The monster was stalking me, and I was next in line!
This may not be an admission for a theologian to make, but it was my "red knight" and conjured dark monster. I didn't really know it for a long time, but fear is the beginning of wisdom..if one is willing to make the journey. And, the journey begins with confronting the spectre and asking, "who are you and what do you want?"
I won't rehearse the full details of what amounts to a 43 year journey. However, I will tell you what I learned. Like Jacob wrestling with the angelic being, I have ultimately turned on my pursuers, asked the questions above, grabbed them and wrestled them to the ground of my being. There I sat with them until they would speak. A conversation then could ensue. Fear dissipated.
Now I face a new challenge. In retirement, the road upon which I journey makes a curve. The vista shifts and becomes unfamiliar. It isn't quite the same horizon. The shoulder that was expertly replaced a year ago with a titanium joint has a "spectre" within it....yet to be definitively diagnosed. When I shared my fear with a wise friend last week, she gave me gracious counsel and insight. The shoulder is a symbol of carrying weight or a load. What are the aspects of your inner reality (she asked) that would create a joint failure and possible infection of this magnitude? She did not answer the question for me, when I couldn't (I stood looking, I think, like a deer in the headlights....very unusual for me). Instead, she smiled, rested a caring hand on mine and said, "Go sit in it."
I knew exactly what she meant. Enter the contemplative place, face the shadowy figures and ask for direction. What part of me am I avoiding? The answer is, as yet, only partial. The initial emerging "red knight" in my second contemplative period this past Friday (11/11) was my own mantra as a young priest: "Nothing dies on my shift!" The second "red knight" appeared later that day...out of the blue while working around the house: "We do not raise quitters."
Well, when did this new problem begin with a shoulder that was healing so nicely? About a month after my retirement. Obviously, I have some things that need to be wrestled down and engaged. I am now "sitting in" this morass of renewed and resurrected monsters.
Grace is a good weapon. Of equal importance is the capacity to integrate one's life experiences...see them all as part of a continuum that is all loved and necessary. There is no failure. Nothing dies. One doesn't quit, because there is nothing to quit. It is a constant evolution and growth. This current frontier is nothing less than the integration of soul with mind and body.
Oh, but you say, you are a priest. Didn't you do that long time ago? I've done a lot of things and traveled a long road. Now the fullness of it confronts me. I am my only measure of meaning at this juncture. Oneness is the capacity to be an authentic self in concert with all other authentic selves. It's the definition of the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus said that the "Kingdom is at hand." Meaning: It can happen among us now. The unfolding begins! Digital to HD for techies.....
My love in Christ,
Fred+
Sat Nam
Occasionally, in the movie, Robin Williams' character is confronted by the vision of a fiery red knight on horseback charging him. Williams' character is terrified and flees for his life each time. As my wife and I watched this movie in a theater, she finally had to punch me, because, each time the red knight appeared I would audibly exclaim, "turn and face him dammit!" My advanced psychology training is a combination of Jungian analysis and Bowen Theory.
Writer, Ursula Leguin, created a series in the late 1970s that has come to be known as The Earthsea Trilogy. The books are about a wizard named Ged and his journey through life. The first book centers on his development. His mentor sends him to the special school for those gifted as wizards. In the cockiness of his youth, he conjures a deeply dark figure that kills one of his teachers and begins pursuing Ged all over Earthsea. Finally, exhausted and near death, Ged finds himself at the home of his childhood mentor. After nursing him to health, the mentor tells Ged that he must cease running and turn to face this hideous dark creature. When Ged and his conjured dark monster finally meet and grapple, Ged's eyes are opened to the reality that the creature is his own dark side and ultimate death...the two aspects of being we are most afraid to encounter.
We recently celebrated All Saints' in the Christian calendar of festivals. We have done serious injustice to the saints by placing them on pedestals and pronouncing them as perfect...as if they had no shadow side or capacity for error, anger, fear or maliciousness. Thomas Merton called our common view of saints as "plaster casts that only represent a false reality." For many years, I was one of those that Merton was speaking to.
Shortly after the death of my mother in late 1987, I felt myself stuck in what seemed like a thick, sucking mud. I went to see a psychotherapist friend for insight. Her first question to me was, "what do you most want to be when you finish here?" Without blinking or hesitating, I blurted, "...A Saint!" I found myself in gales of tears. Her measured response to my stunning revelation was, "Well, my friend, you have set yourself a rather impossible goal don't you know..."
My father had died suddenly of a heart attack just a few weeks prior to graduation from high school in 1968. It was a huge loss for a 17 year old, who actually treasured his dad (though we did have our disagreements). It took me 19 years to realize that I had been running from his death...and...thereby...from my own. He was only 54 years old. Mom was 64 when she died. The monster was stalking me, and I was next in line!
This may not be an admission for a theologian to make, but it was my "red knight" and conjured dark monster. I didn't really know it for a long time, but fear is the beginning of wisdom..if one is willing to make the journey. And, the journey begins with confronting the spectre and asking, "who are you and what do you want?"
I won't rehearse the full details of what amounts to a 43 year journey. However, I will tell you what I learned. Like Jacob wrestling with the angelic being, I have ultimately turned on my pursuers, asked the questions above, grabbed them and wrestled them to the ground of my being. There I sat with them until they would speak. A conversation then could ensue. Fear dissipated.
Now I face a new challenge. In retirement, the road upon which I journey makes a curve. The vista shifts and becomes unfamiliar. It isn't quite the same horizon. The shoulder that was expertly replaced a year ago with a titanium joint has a "spectre" within it....yet to be definitively diagnosed. When I shared my fear with a wise friend last week, she gave me gracious counsel and insight. The shoulder is a symbol of carrying weight or a load. What are the aspects of your inner reality (she asked) that would create a joint failure and possible infection of this magnitude? She did not answer the question for me, when I couldn't (I stood looking, I think, like a deer in the headlights....very unusual for me). Instead, she smiled, rested a caring hand on mine and said, "Go sit in it."
I knew exactly what she meant. Enter the contemplative place, face the shadowy figures and ask for direction. What part of me am I avoiding? The answer is, as yet, only partial. The initial emerging "red knight" in my second contemplative period this past Friday (11/11) was my own mantra as a young priest: "Nothing dies on my shift!" The second "red knight" appeared later that day...out of the blue while working around the house: "We do not raise quitters."
Well, when did this new problem begin with a shoulder that was healing so nicely? About a month after my retirement. Obviously, I have some things that need to be wrestled down and engaged. I am now "sitting in" this morass of renewed and resurrected monsters.
Grace is a good weapon. Of equal importance is the capacity to integrate one's life experiences...see them all as part of a continuum that is all loved and necessary. There is no failure. Nothing dies. One doesn't quit, because there is nothing to quit. It is a constant evolution and growth. This current frontier is nothing less than the integration of soul with mind and body.
Oh, but you say, you are a priest. Didn't you do that long time ago? I've done a lot of things and traveled a long road. Now the fullness of it confronts me. I am my only measure of meaning at this juncture. Oneness is the capacity to be an authentic self in concert with all other authentic selves. It's the definition of the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus said that the "Kingdom is at hand." Meaning: It can happen among us now. The unfolding begins! Digital to HD for techies.....
My love in Christ,
Fred+
Sat Nam
30 October 2011
The Seventy/Fifty-Five Rule of Life
Our mother lived on Anna Maria Island (just off Bradenton, FL...south end of Tampa Bay) from 1980 until her unexpected death near the end of 1987. Her favorite restaurant on the island was a place called "Fast Eddie's." It was known for great seafood with an enjoyable family atmosphere. At some point in almost every visit to mom's house, we found ourselves at that restaurant. It is no longer there, but I have great memories.
At "Fast Eddie's" there was a sign posted over the pass-through from the kitchen area to where the wait-staff would pick up orders for customers that read: "If you are not proud of it, don't serve it."
Think about that. The folks waiting tables did not buy the seafood, vegetables, etc. They were not involved in either cooking it or arranging the plates for presentation. The only thing the servers did was to deliver the product of that process from the kitchen to the customer. Yet, the sign suggests that the servers had a stake in those dishes being served. They needed to be proud of what they delivered. It meant that they had to know what it needed to look and taste like. That's a pretty big responsibility. Plus, how did they know what their customer would experience with the delivered product? What my experience of foods, spices and cooking methods calls forth from me on a particular menu item may not be at all like that of the person sitting at the next table with the exact same menu item. If I tell my server that the dish is wonderful, and my next table neighbor sends his/her dish back, because its not suitable, who is right? Is it the buyer, distributor, fisherman or farmer? Ah, the conundrum of ethics and diversity.
Let me provide one more example. On 6 October 2010, an orthopedic surgeon replaced the joint in my right shoulder with a titanium prosthetic joint....a procedure that took a bit more than 4 hours due to the level of joint deterioration and collateral muscle/tendon damage. The surgeon is considered to be one of the best in his field for this kind of surgery in the KC area.
In early summer, I began to experience pain and reduced mobility in that shoulder. The surgeon's office examination shows a shift in the prosthetic joint indicative of a muscle/tendon breech. Lab tests and a CT scan (can't do MRIs with a metal system) will indicate if there is an infection or if one of the four muscles that make up the rotator cuff has torn. Fact is, it is quite likely that I will face a second surgery on the same shoulder to correct whatever went wrong and the damage that it may have caused the overall system.
The questions here include: Did I do something wrong in my overall rehab process to create this new problem? Did the surgeon do something in the first surgery that caused a muscle/tendon not to heal properly? Did the maker of the prosthesis system miss a flaw in the titanium product that caused this new problem? Do I blame one or both of my parents -- or ancestors -- for the degenerative arthritis that destroyed the joint? How about the places I did weight training and the two accidents I had in doing military presses that damaged my shoulders years ago? Ah, an ethical and diversity conundrum of a different nature!
These two examples may seem very different. However, close examination points to a number of similarities. The first is in a social dimension (restaurant and consumer communities). The second is more internal or personal (me, my surgeon, the product and family of origin). Otherwise, the process and resulting questions are identical. That means there is a "rule" involved. Here, the term "rule" means "measure." Ethics involves the rule or measure by which standards are created. Within those standards, there is the flexibility of individual experience and the evaluation of that experience. It sounds somewhat complicated...and it is. That's why being human and living in human community can often be a messy business.
The recent clashes between police and the Occupy folks reflects such messiness. If we understand the function of our democracy and the system framed in the Constitution for the culture we call the United States of America, it guarantees the freedom of expression and assembly. Even though each of us enjoys the benefits of this system, it often happens that our neighbor has an entirely different experience of that system and its interpretation than we do personally. The Tea Party folks call Occupy folks "Socialists." The Occupy folks could call the Tea Party folks "Neo-Nazis" (I have not heard this, but socialism is considered to be the extreme "left" of the spectrum and neo-nazism is considered extreme right on that scale in political theory). Name calling is a nasty and un-called-for business. It presumes we know exactly what the other person is thinking and what motivates his/her actions. It implies the danger that one person is more correct than the other. Did my enjoyment of my restaurant meal mean that the customer at the next table, with the same meal, is wrong for not appreciating the same dish? Or, vice-versa? Is my experience of facing another surgery making me a better or worse patient than the person who has had the exact same surgery with the same surgeon and equipment and had no problems whatever since the first surgery?
One way to approach a workable platform in this apparent knot is in the marriage of Christian theology and Family Emotional Process (aka Bowen Theory). Without a dissertation on either, I will summarize this way: We can only really experience and engage the world through healthy self-definition (personal experience and expression). Each person has to know where he/she ends and the other person begins (boundaries). We can only be responsible for our own actions. We need to have a common ground for what are appropriate limits (ethics). The healthy community is one that stays connected...even when expression of self has diverse manifestations (as many as there are persons much of the time). Spirituality is the experience of God in a person's life, and theology is the articulation of that experience. So that we can tell the difference between a true experience of God and simply a behavioral projection of a person's mental content (dysfunction), the community uses the combined experiences to create a "system" to objectify and find common ground in the expression of what we call Christianity. We embrace diversity within that system.
My mentor in Family Emotional Process -- Dr. Edwin Friedman -- provided me with a socio-theological way of dealing with all this. This is what I call the "70/55 Rule of Life."
1. On a scale of 100, no one gets better than 70% in this life. It means that 30% of the time we are in a willful modality (stuggling to have things our way on our terms).
2. Those who function at 70% consistently are considered to be "saints." That means that even those we hallow, have been willful 30% of the time.
3. The average, healthy person functions at a 55% level. Astounding as it may seem, this means that most of us are in a willful mode 45% of the time.
4. Below an average of 55%, dysfunction begins to occur (neuroses, psychoses, spiritual and psychological disorders). Going too low can lead to severe mental/spiritual dysfunction and institutionalization (to prevent danger to self or others).
5. To maintain a healthy spiritual and relational life, one needs to speak in clear "I" statements (self-definition); set limits (healthy boundaries); remain as emotionally neutral as possible in normal relationships (avoiding visceral responses/keeping healthy emotional distance); stay connected with others in healthy ways (staying in conversation, even with disagreement, and avoid cutting-off from others because they are different); practice a disciplined connection between one's mental and spiritual internal realities.
The last part of item #5 above is probably the hardest. It is called by several names: contemplative prayer, mindfulness, transparency, self-actualization -- to name a few. As a priest in the Episcopal tradition, my vows include holding as valued the life of every person as well as holding before them the reconciling/healing Grace of God. In a parish, that meant (I'm retired...reason for past tense) seeing each person who entered the church building on a Sunday morning as equally loved and embraced by God....regardless of socio-economic, cultural, political, theological, gender, orientation. While not suspending my own orientations (political party, doctrinal parity, personal issues), I needed to create a space for everyone to feel both welcomed and safe. No personal "axes" or agendas from the pulpit. No "holding hostages" emotionally (eg., 'if you are a good Christian, you will do ___). In large measure, I was able to achieve that.
Now that I am retired, I am freer to express my own "take" on the issues of the moment. I still find myself defending the right of Tea Party and Occupy folks to be vocal in the same system. It is our system...called a democracy. I find myself embracing those of different experiences of spirituality and exploring what that means to them...and ultimately to me. It is quite a journey.
Okay, so who am I in all this? A political progressive who is conservative on some issues and liberal on others. I don't have a strict "party line" (though I am registered with a political party). A theological centrist. Most of my clergy colleagues might call me a tad conservative. A social liberal. It is a big tent and everyone is invited to be part of it. I am an advocate for the social minorities and those who feel disenfranchised or marginalized. I am commited to speaking my truth in love and to embracing those, whose positions/points of view, are different. I defend their right to that opinion...even if it bothers the hell out of me. I am committed to constant research and review so that my opinions and stances can shift and change to be more accountably accurate. That is, to me, both the Gospel and my take on democracy...trying to live in the tension of both.
In Christ's Love,
Fr. Fred
Retired
At Large and Running Amok
Lee's Summit, MO
At "Fast Eddie's" there was a sign posted over the pass-through from the kitchen area to where the wait-staff would pick up orders for customers that read: "If you are not proud of it, don't serve it."
Think about that. The folks waiting tables did not buy the seafood, vegetables, etc. They were not involved in either cooking it or arranging the plates for presentation. The only thing the servers did was to deliver the product of that process from the kitchen to the customer. Yet, the sign suggests that the servers had a stake in those dishes being served. They needed to be proud of what they delivered. It meant that they had to know what it needed to look and taste like. That's a pretty big responsibility. Plus, how did they know what their customer would experience with the delivered product? What my experience of foods, spices and cooking methods calls forth from me on a particular menu item may not be at all like that of the person sitting at the next table with the exact same menu item. If I tell my server that the dish is wonderful, and my next table neighbor sends his/her dish back, because its not suitable, who is right? Is it the buyer, distributor, fisherman or farmer? Ah, the conundrum of ethics and diversity.
Let me provide one more example. On 6 October 2010, an orthopedic surgeon replaced the joint in my right shoulder with a titanium prosthetic joint....a procedure that took a bit more than 4 hours due to the level of joint deterioration and collateral muscle/tendon damage. The surgeon is considered to be one of the best in his field for this kind of surgery in the KC area.
In early summer, I began to experience pain and reduced mobility in that shoulder. The surgeon's office examination shows a shift in the prosthetic joint indicative of a muscle/tendon breech. Lab tests and a CT scan (can't do MRIs with a metal system) will indicate if there is an infection or if one of the four muscles that make up the rotator cuff has torn. Fact is, it is quite likely that I will face a second surgery on the same shoulder to correct whatever went wrong and the damage that it may have caused the overall system.
The questions here include: Did I do something wrong in my overall rehab process to create this new problem? Did the surgeon do something in the first surgery that caused a muscle/tendon not to heal properly? Did the maker of the prosthesis system miss a flaw in the titanium product that caused this new problem? Do I blame one or both of my parents -- or ancestors -- for the degenerative arthritis that destroyed the joint? How about the places I did weight training and the two accidents I had in doing military presses that damaged my shoulders years ago? Ah, an ethical and diversity conundrum of a different nature!
These two examples may seem very different. However, close examination points to a number of similarities. The first is in a social dimension (restaurant and consumer communities). The second is more internal or personal (me, my surgeon, the product and family of origin). Otherwise, the process and resulting questions are identical. That means there is a "rule" involved. Here, the term "rule" means "measure." Ethics involves the rule or measure by which standards are created. Within those standards, there is the flexibility of individual experience and the evaluation of that experience. It sounds somewhat complicated...and it is. That's why being human and living in human community can often be a messy business.
The recent clashes between police and the Occupy folks reflects such messiness. If we understand the function of our democracy and the system framed in the Constitution for the culture we call the United States of America, it guarantees the freedom of expression and assembly. Even though each of us enjoys the benefits of this system, it often happens that our neighbor has an entirely different experience of that system and its interpretation than we do personally. The Tea Party folks call Occupy folks "Socialists." The Occupy folks could call the Tea Party folks "Neo-Nazis" (I have not heard this, but socialism is considered to be the extreme "left" of the spectrum and neo-nazism is considered extreme right on that scale in political theory). Name calling is a nasty and un-called-for business. It presumes we know exactly what the other person is thinking and what motivates his/her actions. It implies the danger that one person is more correct than the other. Did my enjoyment of my restaurant meal mean that the customer at the next table, with the same meal, is wrong for not appreciating the same dish? Or, vice-versa? Is my experience of facing another surgery making me a better or worse patient than the person who has had the exact same surgery with the same surgeon and equipment and had no problems whatever since the first surgery?
One way to approach a workable platform in this apparent knot is in the marriage of Christian theology and Family Emotional Process (aka Bowen Theory). Without a dissertation on either, I will summarize this way: We can only really experience and engage the world through healthy self-definition (personal experience and expression). Each person has to know where he/she ends and the other person begins (boundaries). We can only be responsible for our own actions. We need to have a common ground for what are appropriate limits (ethics). The healthy community is one that stays connected...even when expression of self has diverse manifestations (as many as there are persons much of the time). Spirituality is the experience of God in a person's life, and theology is the articulation of that experience. So that we can tell the difference between a true experience of God and simply a behavioral projection of a person's mental content (dysfunction), the community uses the combined experiences to create a "system" to objectify and find common ground in the expression of what we call Christianity. We embrace diversity within that system.
My mentor in Family Emotional Process -- Dr. Edwin Friedman -- provided me with a socio-theological way of dealing with all this. This is what I call the "70/55 Rule of Life."
1. On a scale of 100, no one gets better than 70% in this life. It means that 30% of the time we are in a willful modality (stuggling to have things our way on our terms).
2. Those who function at 70% consistently are considered to be "saints." That means that even those we hallow, have been willful 30% of the time.
3. The average, healthy person functions at a 55% level. Astounding as it may seem, this means that most of us are in a willful mode 45% of the time.
4. Below an average of 55%, dysfunction begins to occur (neuroses, psychoses, spiritual and psychological disorders). Going too low can lead to severe mental/spiritual dysfunction and institutionalization (to prevent danger to self or others).
5. To maintain a healthy spiritual and relational life, one needs to speak in clear "I" statements (self-definition); set limits (healthy boundaries); remain as emotionally neutral as possible in normal relationships (avoiding visceral responses/keeping healthy emotional distance); stay connected with others in healthy ways (staying in conversation, even with disagreement, and avoid cutting-off from others because they are different); practice a disciplined connection between one's mental and spiritual internal realities.
The last part of item #5 above is probably the hardest. It is called by several names: contemplative prayer, mindfulness, transparency, self-actualization -- to name a few. As a priest in the Episcopal tradition, my vows include holding as valued the life of every person as well as holding before them the reconciling/healing Grace of God. In a parish, that meant (I'm retired...reason for past tense) seeing each person who entered the church building on a Sunday morning as equally loved and embraced by God....regardless of socio-economic, cultural, political, theological, gender, orientation. While not suspending my own orientations (political party, doctrinal parity, personal issues), I needed to create a space for everyone to feel both welcomed and safe. No personal "axes" or agendas from the pulpit. No "holding hostages" emotionally (eg., 'if you are a good Christian, you will do ___). In large measure, I was able to achieve that.
Now that I am retired, I am freer to express my own "take" on the issues of the moment. I still find myself defending the right of Tea Party and Occupy folks to be vocal in the same system. It is our system...called a democracy. I find myself embracing those of different experiences of spirituality and exploring what that means to them...and ultimately to me. It is quite a journey.
Okay, so who am I in all this? A political progressive who is conservative on some issues and liberal on others. I don't have a strict "party line" (though I am registered with a political party). A theological centrist. Most of my clergy colleagues might call me a tad conservative. A social liberal. It is a big tent and everyone is invited to be part of it. I am an advocate for the social minorities and those who feel disenfranchised or marginalized. I am commited to speaking my truth in love and to embracing those, whose positions/points of view, are different. I defend their right to that opinion...even if it bothers the hell out of me. I am committed to constant research and review so that my opinions and stances can shift and change to be more accountably accurate. That is, to me, both the Gospel and my take on democracy...trying to live in the tension of both.
In Christ's Love,
Fr. Fred
Retired
At Large and Running Amok
Lee's Summit, MO
13 October 2011
"First Law of Lethargy"*
*The title of this article is taken from the CREDO Eclectic article title by Herb Gunn. His article in that newsletter (on Facebook) inspired my thinking along similar lines.
Background: Sir Isaac Newton's first law of motion: An object at rest will remain at rest unless acted on by an unbalanced force. An object in motion continues in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.
Retirement is an interesting endeavor. Since I have never done it before, the only references as to the experience comes from those who have and are retired. I am quickly learning that retirement is like fingerprints -- no two are alike. For those not yet retired: it is okay to listen to the experiences of others, or to watch those experiences emerge in others; but don't believe it will be the same for you. It won't.
The first two months (July & August) were spent at a near frantic pace as we changed our entire plan for being settled in our Lee's Summit, MO home and community and shifted to the purchase of a not-yet-built townhome in Sarasota, FL. This was not on our familial radar until literally days prior to my date of retirement.
By the end of July, we had had made two trips to Sarasota -- the first at the very beginning of the month to look at opportunities and existing condos, villas and townhomes -- the second at the end of the month to finalize the contract on a townhome, which is part of a final phase of a condominium development. In between, we completed enough paperwork to reforest the Amazon basin; spent countless time on telephones and emails; got to know the FedEx office folks on a first name basis (overnighting parts of contracts and mortgage initiating docs); had work done and did work ourselves on our current home to prepare it for the real estate market; divested ourselves -- room by room -- of thirty plus years of accumulated materials that did not meet our mutually agreed criteria: do we absolutely love it; have we used it in the past two years; when we move, do we want to take it with us to the new home? In the end, we are probably a good 2,500 lbs lighter in our earthly load. I have to readily admit. I don't miss anything and the house feels much larger and more peaceful.
The work of July continued into August. Work on our current home moved outside. While we have kept the house and yard in very good shape over the past eight years, fine-tuning, reworking and replacing schedules suddenly became compacted into these first two months. While it placed a fair strain on the budget, we managed to complete about 95% of what we planned. The other 5%? They comprise our two basement storerooms. We have a finished basement that is multi-use. Off of it, there is the mechanical room with a lot of storage space and another room that could be made into almost any kind of space, but is used to store things that belong to our two daughters and items which have been categorized "undecided" in our sweeping simplification of life and belongings project of July/August. We figure three days work max to complete the entire project.
We are now approaching mid-October. Folks are looking at our current home, but no offers yet. They have poured the foundation for the building of which our townhome will be a part in Sarasota (they send pictures almost weekly of the progress). I have done Sunday supply occasionally, and we have worshipped in parishes in Lee's Summit and Independence. We made a trip to South Bend, IN to co-host an engagement party for our younger daughter and her fiance. I spent nine days in the Black Hills doing interviews that will, hopefully, lay the platform for a book I want to write (part of my original retirement plan). I was accompanied on this trip by my dear friend, Don Palmer. It was sacred time and space to be sure, as I showed him parts of the Hills not seen by tourists...but known to current Native Americans (Lakota, Cheyenne, and others) and indigenous peoples for at least the past thousand years. Denise and I just finished a four-day trip to St. Louis for time together and sightseeing in celebration of our 30th wedding anniversary. Oh, and I went to our diocesan priests' conference in between the Black Hills trip and our St. Louis trip.
So, my experience thus far of retirement has not included anything like "puttering about," or quiet days of reading, or even sleeping late for that matter. Lethargy has not been a word to be applied to my experience to this point. HOWEVER, there is something unsettling about this particular manner of sustained motion. It wobbles!
I never experienced a consistent routine in 33 years of parish ministry. Parochial life has a certain rhythm, but it is regularly broken by the unexpected, the crisis, the emergency, or the issue that mark most days. One really has to be a priest to know what a priest enounters. Regardless of the jokes about "working only one day a week," a parish priest's life is not really his/her own. After three months of not being in parish work, I look out the back door of our home, while sitting at our breakfast nook table and see the same scenes I have seen countless times in our eight years here. BUT, it looks very different. I realize that, for the first time, I am REALLY seeing the details, hearing the sounds of life, smelling the fragrances coming to me on the breeze wafting through the screen door. I am engaging my environment. I am becoming mindful.
I actually realized I was spiritually lethargic while on sabbatical in 2008. My mentors, Ben Rhodd (Leading Eagle), Lyle Noisy Hawk and Martin Brokenleg patiently opened my eyes, ears, nose and heart to the vastness of and engagement with creation...as the Creator wants us to experience it. I lived those three months of June-August 2008 in what the Celtic Christians called the "thin place" -- where heaven and earth touch. It is vastly transformative. It is also easily lost.
The expectations of daily life in the current culture do not recognize nor much permit walking in this thin place...even in the Church. It is considered non-productive. However, deeper exploration of scriptures and tradition show us that it is exactly the place God would have us live. It is the place of transformative growth. I thought I had lost that place after sabbatical. I suddenly realize it has always been here. It was I who was lost to it!
My forward movement is being impacted by forces that are actually balancing in nature -- contrary to Newton's first law of motion. My lethargy has not been one of lack of motion but lack of mindfulness -- non-attention to the deeper realities around me.
Folks I regularly engage tell me that my eyes are brighter, my walk is more relaxed, I laugh more easily, and I have a more laid-back attitude. My friends who work at the local Starbuck's have started calling me "The Dude." My hairstyle and demeanor remind them of the Jeff Bridges character in "The Big Lebowski" (a Cohen Brothers movie that has re-emerged as a cult classic for young adults). I have promised to wear my bathrobe over my clothing on Halloween...and I will do it. My hair is now touching my shoulders, I've dropped a few pounds of weight. Mostly, I am becoming the real me...the one God knows, and I am getting to know again. Welcome home Fred!
My love in Christ,
"The Dude"
At Large and Running Amok
Lee's Summit, MO
Background: Sir Isaac Newton's first law of motion: An object at rest will remain at rest unless acted on by an unbalanced force. An object in motion continues in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.
Retirement is an interesting endeavor. Since I have never done it before, the only references as to the experience comes from those who have and are retired. I am quickly learning that retirement is like fingerprints -- no two are alike. For those not yet retired: it is okay to listen to the experiences of others, or to watch those experiences emerge in others; but don't believe it will be the same for you. It won't.
The first two months (July & August) were spent at a near frantic pace as we changed our entire plan for being settled in our Lee's Summit, MO home and community and shifted to the purchase of a not-yet-built townhome in Sarasota, FL. This was not on our familial radar until literally days prior to my date of retirement.
By the end of July, we had had made two trips to Sarasota -- the first at the very beginning of the month to look at opportunities and existing condos, villas and townhomes -- the second at the end of the month to finalize the contract on a townhome, which is part of a final phase of a condominium development. In between, we completed enough paperwork to reforest the Amazon basin; spent countless time on telephones and emails; got to know the FedEx office folks on a first name basis (overnighting parts of contracts and mortgage initiating docs); had work done and did work ourselves on our current home to prepare it for the real estate market; divested ourselves -- room by room -- of thirty plus years of accumulated materials that did not meet our mutually agreed criteria: do we absolutely love it; have we used it in the past two years; when we move, do we want to take it with us to the new home? In the end, we are probably a good 2,500 lbs lighter in our earthly load. I have to readily admit. I don't miss anything and the house feels much larger and more peaceful.
The work of July continued into August. Work on our current home moved outside. While we have kept the house and yard in very good shape over the past eight years, fine-tuning, reworking and replacing schedules suddenly became compacted into these first two months. While it placed a fair strain on the budget, we managed to complete about 95% of what we planned. The other 5%? They comprise our two basement storerooms. We have a finished basement that is multi-use. Off of it, there is the mechanical room with a lot of storage space and another room that could be made into almost any kind of space, but is used to store things that belong to our two daughters and items which have been categorized "undecided" in our sweeping simplification of life and belongings project of July/August. We figure three days work max to complete the entire project.
We are now approaching mid-October. Folks are looking at our current home, but no offers yet. They have poured the foundation for the building of which our townhome will be a part in Sarasota (they send pictures almost weekly of the progress). I have done Sunday supply occasionally, and we have worshipped in parishes in Lee's Summit and Independence. We made a trip to South Bend, IN to co-host an engagement party for our younger daughter and her fiance. I spent nine days in the Black Hills doing interviews that will, hopefully, lay the platform for a book I want to write (part of my original retirement plan). I was accompanied on this trip by my dear friend, Don Palmer. It was sacred time and space to be sure, as I showed him parts of the Hills not seen by tourists...but known to current Native Americans (Lakota, Cheyenne, and others) and indigenous peoples for at least the past thousand years. Denise and I just finished a four-day trip to St. Louis for time together and sightseeing in celebration of our 30th wedding anniversary. Oh, and I went to our diocesan priests' conference in between the Black Hills trip and our St. Louis trip.
So, my experience thus far of retirement has not included anything like "puttering about," or quiet days of reading, or even sleeping late for that matter. Lethargy has not been a word to be applied to my experience to this point. HOWEVER, there is something unsettling about this particular manner of sustained motion. It wobbles!
I never experienced a consistent routine in 33 years of parish ministry. Parochial life has a certain rhythm, but it is regularly broken by the unexpected, the crisis, the emergency, or the issue that mark most days. One really has to be a priest to know what a priest enounters. Regardless of the jokes about "working only one day a week," a parish priest's life is not really his/her own. After three months of not being in parish work, I look out the back door of our home, while sitting at our breakfast nook table and see the same scenes I have seen countless times in our eight years here. BUT, it looks very different. I realize that, for the first time, I am REALLY seeing the details, hearing the sounds of life, smelling the fragrances coming to me on the breeze wafting through the screen door. I am engaging my environment. I am becoming mindful.
I actually realized I was spiritually lethargic while on sabbatical in 2008. My mentors, Ben Rhodd (Leading Eagle), Lyle Noisy Hawk and Martin Brokenleg patiently opened my eyes, ears, nose and heart to the vastness of and engagement with creation...as the Creator wants us to experience it. I lived those three months of June-August 2008 in what the Celtic Christians called the "thin place" -- where heaven and earth touch. It is vastly transformative. It is also easily lost.
The expectations of daily life in the current culture do not recognize nor much permit walking in this thin place...even in the Church. It is considered non-productive. However, deeper exploration of scriptures and tradition show us that it is exactly the place God would have us live. It is the place of transformative growth. I thought I had lost that place after sabbatical. I suddenly realize it has always been here. It was I who was lost to it!
My forward movement is being impacted by forces that are actually balancing in nature -- contrary to Newton's first law of motion. My lethargy has not been one of lack of motion but lack of mindfulness -- non-attention to the deeper realities around me.
Folks I regularly engage tell me that my eyes are brighter, my walk is more relaxed, I laugh more easily, and I have a more laid-back attitude. My friends who work at the local Starbuck's have started calling me "The Dude." My hairstyle and demeanor remind them of the Jeff Bridges character in "The Big Lebowski" (a Cohen Brothers movie that has re-emerged as a cult classic for young adults). I have promised to wear my bathrobe over my clothing on Halloween...and I will do it. My hair is now touching my shoulders, I've dropped a few pounds of weight. Mostly, I am becoming the real me...the one God knows, and I am getting to know again. Welcome home Fred!
My love in Christ,
"The Dude"
At Large and Running Amok
Lee's Summit, MO
30 August 2011
Remembering: Reflections on 9/11/01
Like everyone else, I can remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I learned that airline jets had struck the Twin Towers in NYC. I was Dean of St. James Cathedral, South Bend, IN. It was one of those bright September mornings that had just a hint of the approaching fall. I had just finished a breakfast meeting with my Bishop....planning activities for the coming months that would involve the cathedral's leadership and resources. Our business and meal completed, I was heading to the cathedral office, when I got a call from one of our parishioners. He was nearly breathless, and I first thought he was in a personal crisis. Finally, he was able to ask me, "Are you the only person in the United States who doesn't know that we are under attack?!!!."
He told me what he knew as I raced to the cathedral office. Once in my office, I booted my laptop and turned on the television we had connected to local cable. The images were graphic, and I stood motionless for a long time watching what I could only describe as a surreal unfolding of events. Then, the unthinkable began to happen. First, an airliner entered one side of the Pentagon at almost ground level...like a bullet fired from a gun. Then, one tower collapsed. Then, the other tower collapsed. Then, the news of the airliner diving into a field in rural southeast Pennsylvania. My thought at that time: 'life as we know it has just changed dramatically.'
For us at St. James Cathedral, the day very quickly shifted out of its relative normalcy (nothing is really ever "normal" in parish ministry), into a modality of response. Within eight hours, we had developed a full liturgy for gathering the community, notified television and radio stations of the time of worship that evening, gathered our personnel resources and prepped them for what we were about to do and designed the high altar and chapel altar to reflect what we seemed to be experiencing (beyond the numbness). As soon as I had gathered enough clarity of the implications, I had called our Bishop (whose office is directly upstairs from the Dean's office) and told him what I thought needed ot be done. He readily agreed, and we began marshalling the resources. To this day, I do not know how we did all that we accomplished between 10am and 7pm that day.
That evening, the cathedral was full...not just with our parishioners but with people from all over the South Bend metro. The next 90 minutes embraced sacred time that seemed to cement our diversity into a single cry for peace, understanding and the souls of all those lost. I only remember the opening words of my homily: "My sisters and brothers, this day we have entered the surreal..."
In the days that followed, the cathedral joined with our Christian, Jewish and Muslim urban communities in daily prayer...each day in a different house of worship. The Cathedral Chapel remained open 24 hours with persons in prayer around the clock -- martyr lights burning on the Altar (large, red glass candles that burn for 8 days) -- one candle for each tower, one for the Pentagon and one for the crashed airliner in Shanksville, PA.
On Saturday morning, 15 September, I was part of a representative clergy group that gathered on the south parking lot of Notre Dame to pray for a team of EMTs and fire department personnel from South Bend and four other area communities that were heading to Ground Zero to provide assistance. The University of Notre Dame had a number of programs linked to businesses with offices in the NYC Twin Towers. Friends and family were among those whose lives were lost that day. We realized that it was really close to home; and that this was probably true for hundreds of communities around the country.
For months following that fateful Tuesday in September, we engaged in pastoral counseling, reflective teaching and preaching, special times of prayer -- all while trying to find that place of normalcy that seemed so elusive. It did slowly come, but the toll on our individual and common psyches was larger than we perhaps realized.
Just four months prior to 9/11/2001 the North American Conference of Cathedral Deans had convened in Oklahoma City, OK -- hosted by the Cathedral for the Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma that year. Our focus was on the terrorist bombing that destroyed the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building on 19 April 1995. The explosion lifted and moved the entire roof system of the cathedral, which was five blocks away! People who were injured or lost loved ones in that tragic event spent the weekend with us -- sharing their experiences and the work of healing in their lives and in Oklahoma City itself. Without knowing it, we were experiencing a preparation for what would soon take place and would rock our entire country to its core.
Remembering is not simply thinking back and touching on points of pain. Think about the word: re-member. In the New Testament, this word is anamnesis and means "to make present again." Why would we want to do this? To engage again on a seminal level is to incorporate and learn in the experience. The National Geographic Channel is running a week long series leading up to 9/11 that engages the tragedies of the day itself; the experiences of NYC and national leaders; the stories of those who were involved on many levels of the events and recovery; and the story of those who promulgated the acts of terror and subsequent attempts.
Remembering isn't just the day and those hours but all that surrounded it and followed from it. It continues to unfold. It is part of who we are -- both individually and as a culture. We can only be whole as we sit in the moment. It is the experience of Christian Eucharist and contemplative prayer. It is also the experience of Buddhist meditation, Oneness Deeksha, and other spiritual disciplines. In the Lakota tradition, the opening and closing of prayer with Mitakuye Oyasin ("All My Relations" or "We are all connected") embraces making all things present. It is a common thread of prayer that binds humanity and all creation.
To remember is to bring healing and to burn away the anger, pain and fear. Once all that is is gone, what is left are the acts of love and selflessness that define true human nature...that created in God's image. In Christian Eucharist, Christ Jesus becomes present to us in the act of re-membering. That presence heals, restores and sharpens our focus on what it means to be truly human.
I sit in the midst of the flames, destruction and cries of the suffering and dying. I connect with all that is in that moment...embracing it with love, seeking forgiveness and restoration of peace, remembering so I might be renewed.
Blessings,
Fr. Fred+
He told me what he knew as I raced to the cathedral office. Once in my office, I booted my laptop and turned on the television we had connected to local cable. The images were graphic, and I stood motionless for a long time watching what I could only describe as a surreal unfolding of events. Then, the unthinkable began to happen. First, an airliner entered one side of the Pentagon at almost ground level...like a bullet fired from a gun. Then, one tower collapsed. Then, the other tower collapsed. Then, the news of the airliner diving into a field in rural southeast Pennsylvania. My thought at that time: 'life as we know it has just changed dramatically.'
For us at St. James Cathedral, the day very quickly shifted out of its relative normalcy (nothing is really ever "normal" in parish ministry), into a modality of response. Within eight hours, we had developed a full liturgy for gathering the community, notified television and radio stations of the time of worship that evening, gathered our personnel resources and prepped them for what we were about to do and designed the high altar and chapel altar to reflect what we seemed to be experiencing (beyond the numbness). As soon as I had gathered enough clarity of the implications, I had called our Bishop (whose office is directly upstairs from the Dean's office) and told him what I thought needed ot be done. He readily agreed, and we began marshalling the resources. To this day, I do not know how we did all that we accomplished between 10am and 7pm that day.
That evening, the cathedral was full...not just with our parishioners but with people from all over the South Bend metro. The next 90 minutes embraced sacred time that seemed to cement our diversity into a single cry for peace, understanding and the souls of all those lost. I only remember the opening words of my homily: "My sisters and brothers, this day we have entered the surreal..."
In the days that followed, the cathedral joined with our Christian, Jewish and Muslim urban communities in daily prayer...each day in a different house of worship. The Cathedral Chapel remained open 24 hours with persons in prayer around the clock -- martyr lights burning on the Altar (large, red glass candles that burn for 8 days) -- one candle for each tower, one for the Pentagon and one for the crashed airliner in Shanksville, PA.
On Saturday morning, 15 September, I was part of a representative clergy group that gathered on the south parking lot of Notre Dame to pray for a team of EMTs and fire department personnel from South Bend and four other area communities that were heading to Ground Zero to provide assistance. The University of Notre Dame had a number of programs linked to businesses with offices in the NYC Twin Towers. Friends and family were among those whose lives were lost that day. We realized that it was really close to home; and that this was probably true for hundreds of communities around the country.
For months following that fateful Tuesday in September, we engaged in pastoral counseling, reflective teaching and preaching, special times of prayer -- all while trying to find that place of normalcy that seemed so elusive. It did slowly come, but the toll on our individual and common psyches was larger than we perhaps realized.
Just four months prior to 9/11/2001 the North American Conference of Cathedral Deans had convened in Oklahoma City, OK -- hosted by the Cathedral for the Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma that year. Our focus was on the terrorist bombing that destroyed the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building on 19 April 1995. The explosion lifted and moved the entire roof system of the cathedral, which was five blocks away! People who were injured or lost loved ones in that tragic event spent the weekend with us -- sharing their experiences and the work of healing in their lives and in Oklahoma City itself. Without knowing it, we were experiencing a preparation for what would soon take place and would rock our entire country to its core.
Remembering is not simply thinking back and touching on points of pain. Think about the word: re-member. In the New Testament, this word is anamnesis and means "to make present again." Why would we want to do this? To engage again on a seminal level is to incorporate and learn in the experience. The National Geographic Channel is running a week long series leading up to 9/11 that engages the tragedies of the day itself; the experiences of NYC and national leaders; the stories of those who were involved on many levels of the events and recovery; and the story of those who promulgated the acts of terror and subsequent attempts.
Remembering isn't just the day and those hours but all that surrounded it and followed from it. It continues to unfold. It is part of who we are -- both individually and as a culture. We can only be whole as we sit in the moment. It is the experience of Christian Eucharist and contemplative prayer. It is also the experience of Buddhist meditation, Oneness Deeksha, and other spiritual disciplines. In the Lakota tradition, the opening and closing of prayer with Mitakuye Oyasin ("All My Relations" or "We are all connected") embraces making all things present. It is a common thread of prayer that binds humanity and all creation.
To remember is to bring healing and to burn away the anger, pain and fear. Once all that is is gone, what is left are the acts of love and selflessness that define true human nature...that created in God's image. In Christian Eucharist, Christ Jesus becomes present to us in the act of re-membering. That presence heals, restores and sharpens our focus on what it means to be truly human.
I sit in the midst of the flames, destruction and cries of the suffering and dying. I connect with all that is in that moment...embracing it with love, seeking forgiveness and restoration of peace, remembering so I might be renewed.
Blessings,
Fr. Fred+
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