Peter and Paul: Vocational Journey

Today is a feast day, in the Christian calendar, that is especially meaningful to me.  On this date in 1978, six of us were ordained Deacon at the Episcopal Cathedral of St. Luke in Orlando, Florida.  We were ordained by Bishop William H. Folwell at a liturgy that began at 7:00pm.  It was the completion of one journey and the opening of a new and very different journey...one that marks the difference between vocation and occupation.

First, Holy Orders in the Episcopal Church follow the Apostolic Succession established by the infant Church toward the end of the First Century CE.  The generation of apostolic leaders raised up by the Apostles themselves were called Epscopoi (overseers, or Bishops).  The term apostle means "witness," and the new generation bearing responsibility for carrying the Gospel of Jesus, were not direct witnesses -- thus the shift in title.  This order is established in the New Testament.

The other biblically established Order is that of Deacon.  Diakonoi means "Service."  It is a committed vocation to realize the work of the Church through service to those in need.  The first recorded Deacon was Stephen, and his story appears in Acts of the Apostles (Acts 7).  Because the Apostolic work carried certain responsibilities, this Order was raised up to embrace the always present needs for "hands on" care.  Deacons also proclaim the Gospel and extend the sacramental ministry of the Church beyond its gathered Body.

It was not until shortly after what we call the Apostolic Era (which is where the New Testament itself ends) that the rapidly expanding Ecclesia (assembly of citizens in ancient Greek...borrowed by the early Christian community to signify its assembly for worship) began structuring itself to meet greater needs and more presence.  It was at this time that the Apostolic structure was itself expanded to create a third Order -- that of Presbyteroi, meaning "elder."  The laying on of hands (Ordination) by Apostles, and then Bishops, invoked specific Gifts of the Holy Spirit to permanently shift the inner character of a person to bear specific functions within the Body.  The creation the Order of Presbyters (Priests) allowed the extension of the Episcopal functions into the expanded community.

In the earliest gathering of Christians, the community gathered around an Apostle in a local area...to hear the teaching and receive the promised gifts of Jesus to the community:  Baptism and Eucharist.  These were the Dominical Sacraments -- specifically mandated by Jesus.   Christianity spread so rapidly that, by the beginning of the second century, the new generation of apostolic leadership could not be in all the places the community gathered.  Thus the Order of Priests emerged to extend the Apostolic Ministry into parts of the community farther away from the place of the Bishop.  The Deacons continued to be raised up (ordained) and sent to organize infant communities and see to the regular needs of those groups.

That summarizes what we now call the "Three-fold Orders" of the Church.  In Post-Reformation ecclesiology, the Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and Anglican (Episcopal) traditions still function within Apostolic Succession and Order.  Other traditions bear marks of that succession as well.  In Anglicanism, we lost the Diaconal Order for some centuries, but it has been reinstated and now flourishes in almost all provinces of the Anglican Communion.

While the separate Order of Deacons was lost for a time in Western Christianity, it continued to be a part of the ordering process of those being raised up for sacramental ministry.  There is wide variance in how this looks now.  Keeping it "in house" with the Anglican Tradition, one moves through a preparatory process from being an Aspirant to a Postulant to a Candidate and then ordination -- first to the Diaconate and then to the Priesthood.  Bishops are raised up from the Presbyteral College (Priests).  The Aspirant to Candidate sequence covers that period of time of discernment, preparation and education.  In the current Anglican process, one must have a Bachelor's Degree from an accredited college/university to enter the process for being ordained a Priest.  Three years of seminary are required -- which is an accredited graduate school granting a professional Master's Degree (M.Div) showing competency in the seven disciplines required by the Canons of the Church.  The education process is similar in track to  medical, law, or other professional graduate schools -- seminary is a theological graduate school.

From the time I was in seminary, I concerned myself with what appeared to me to be a misuse of the Diaconate in the ordination process toward Priesthood.  If one is being raised up ("called") to be a Priest in the Church, why not simply ordain that person when he/she has completed the required process?  This argument was not new with me.  It has been around for some centuries.  Direct ordination to the Order to which one is being called is known as Per Saltum Ordination (literally:  Ordination by a Leap).  With the Order of Deacon now restored to its rightful and historic place in Apostolic Ministry, it confuses those who see a person ordained to the Diaconate and remaining in that Order for only six months to a year (most persons ordained to the Priesthood are so ordered after six months in the Diaconate...there are still some requirements in dioceses for a year of Diaconal work).

The Episcopal Church has tried to overcome this conundrum by providing names.  Vocational Deacon is one who is called to that permanent Order.  Transitional Deacon is one who is in a process for ordination to the Priesthood.  I stopped beating a drum for this a few years back.  Here is why.

During the six months I was a Transitional Deacon, my function was that of any Deacon.  My focus, for those first six months on a parish staff, was very organic.  I was in hospitals, nursing homes, mental facilities and other places where our parishioners were in need and receiving care.  I was introduced to hands-on pastoral care for the sick, suffering, dying and those whose lives were in a crisis moment of brokenness.  I would bring all of that back into the organized structure of the parish church as a way of connecting the gathering Body with those places of being broken or in pain.  I did a lot of equipping of folks for ministry in the wider areas of need beyond the walls of worship and organization.  I learned how to truly proclaim the Gospel (not just read it) and honed my skills in the art and craft of homiletics....giving understandable theological expression to the current needs and concerns of the gathered Body (yes, we call this "preaching," but I submit that the word indicates more of "talking down" to folks than sharing the Faith and providing insight and encouragement.  I don't like the word "preach," but that is another story).

When I was ordained a Priest on 29 December 1978, I celebrated my first Eucharist with the parish community that Sunday (12/29/1978 was a Friday, so my first Eucharist was on 12/31/1978).  At the moment I was in the midst of the Eucharistic Prayer itself, I suddenly realized that I was bearing all of those persons and moments of crisis and pain and offering them, through the Eucharistic Sacrament, to Christ and the assembled Body.  It was a transforming moment for me and one that would shape and define every Eucharist I would celebrate thereafter....and every one I still celebrate in retirement.

I still bear a Diaconal function.  In fact, tomorrow (Sunday, 6/30/2013), I will represent St. Boniface parish (where Denise and I now worship) by taking the Sacrament to a person in a rehab center located near our home.  Though done by Priests all the time, this is a truly Diaconal function within the New Testament expression.  I have never lost that deep sense of awe and wonder in connecting with folks in need...who cannot be part of the larger commuity...who are struggling or broken in various ways.  Being a Deacon for six months gifted me with a life long compassion...."solidarity with" the larger community.

That's my story.   The Apostle Peter represents the rock of faith...his diaconal journey can be seen in his struggle to enter the house of a Gentile family.  Paul represents the deepening of experience and expression...his diaconal journey can be seen in his transformation from a persecutor of The Way...to becoming part of the Apostolic Community....the "Thirteenth Apostle."

I am humbled by and thankful for this day 35 years ago.

Love and Blessings,

Fred+

Special Note:  Of course I left out a lot of teaching and theology here.  It would be way too much for a blog post.  For those interested, the Outline of the Faith:  Commonly Called the Catechism on pages 845ff. of the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer provides a question/answer summary of teaching in my Tradition.  The area entitled "Ministry" on pp. 855-57 are specific to my reflections above.  I did not further "unpack" the differences between vocation and occupation cited in my first paragraph.  That would add more length to the blog and deserves separate treatment.  As a "bite" on it, vocation is work that defines and expresses one's character, or center of being.  Vocation is ontological.  Occupation is a work we do and may express an interest or an avocation but not an ontological extension.  Work with that.

Secondary Note:  This blog is more in keeping with the journey I have made.  Yes, there have been radical abuses of the Apostolic Ministry by ordained individuals who have distorted and misrepresented the authority and "power" inherent in ordination.  This is tragic.  Tragic also that it continues in the modern era and in all traditions.  My heart breaks to see it.  None of us escape the temptations placed before us.  The true disciplines of prayer and balance between ego and deeper Self are a part of vocation that keep us on track, but they are sometimes forgotten by those who abuse it.  I make no excuse for any abuse on any level.

Saturday Morning Musings

It has been a rather unusual week for me.  The fact that I haven't written a blog post since Easter is testimony to the kind of internal and relational journey upon which I, somehow, got launched.  The days and weeks of April rocked along.  Visits from our two daughters with husband and beau were delightful breaks from the rocky internal journey.  American political bravado and over-the-top reactivity meant that less television and news journalists was in order.  The tragedy of Boston and senseless violent behavior and rhetoric took their toll.  I got to a single point, about two weeks ago that, 'this reality really sucks!'

Light began to dawn very early Monday morning of this past week...well before actual sidereal daybreak. I have practiced contemplative prayer for years...with a greater degree of regularity since retirement from professional parochial work.  It was during that time in predawn Monday that the title/subtitle and eleven major points "dropped" on me like an unfolding scroll.  This sudden gift came as a descriptor for the project that has been my passion for five years (and one reason I retired at age 60.5)...a book that reflects the deep experiences and learning I have had in my journey with Celtic and Lakota culture and spiritual traditions.

That moment of revelation began an intense 2.5 days of writing....hours at a time without break.  The product was a Prospectus and narrative outline of a book that will now take about two years to write.  Two years?!  There is much research and learning yet to do...most of which has to happen by being in the field and in relationship with significant persons and places.  Only about 10% of what will be written can be gleaned from hours in libraries or with already published resources.

At the end of the 2.5 days of writing, and a good talk with my Lakota mentor, I relaxed a bit and began feeling that deep engagement with a larger tapestry of reality.  But, then there was Thursday morning.

I won't go into great detail... than to say, if something could go wrong, it did...physical stuff.  Spills, breakage, malfunctions and, then, the ultimate....a near computer crash.  My not-too-old laptop became cyber psychotic.  After having a remote tech move around in my system for two hours and another 1.75 days doing internal cleanup and storing files to a cloud system, my overall life settled down to a happy sunset on the beach last evening.  With our reliance on cyber technology being what it is these days, I think we can say:  "If the computer ain't happy, then nobody is happy."

I awoke at 6:00am this morning thinking about dying.  Now there is something that almost never happens!  I sat up with a start and did an immediate "systems check."  I seemed to be intact and normal in all ways that mattered.  I padded downstairs, built my first cup of coffee and reflected.  Yes, at age 62.5, there are statistically less years ahead of me than have passed behind me.  True, my body is different...a tad slower with systems that require me to be a bit more careful.  Yet, there is still a passion for life, relationships and experiences that will expand and balance both corporeal and essential (spiritual) realities.  I synthesize these two aspects of being far better now than I did even ten years ago.  In fact, dualism is no longer a functional state of mind for me.  It is simply a continuum that bends back on itself.

As the above thoughts drifted along, I suddenly got an insight.  As some know, I read pretty heavily in life sciences and physics.  Science has been huge for me from the time of childhood.  A graduate degree in theology and 35 years as an Episcopal Priest have not dampened that desire to explore those fields.

Not long ago, I was reading some journal materials on astrophysics research.  The technology is incredible and complex.  In our human desire to measure things, here are some statistics I gleaned from that reading:

• The earth rotates on its axis at 1,070 mph
• The earth revolves around the sun at 66,610 mph
• Our solar system is moving in our galaxy's rotation around center at 485,415 mph
• Our galaxy is moving in universal space at about 1.34 million mph.

These numbers are approximate...mostly because I calculated them from the original kilometers/hr to miles/hr.  The astrophysicists calculate in kilometers/second and a thermo-geometric measurement that looks like an equation (some call it "parsecs").

Further consider that the earth (in size) could not be seen, if we were taking a picture of our galaxy outside its boundaries.  If we were to take in all known galaxies, earth would be as elusive as the Higgs-Boson particle is to atomic physics.  Consider that we are living on a planet in the universe the size of Higgs-Boson and are looking within our physical, sub-atomic reality for the smallest particle called Higgs-Boson.  

Perspective counts here folks -- even if it bends the mind!!!

In these morning musings, I remembered a portion of Psalm 144...a poetic writing attributed to David in the height of the Era of Kings in pre-Diaspora Israel:  "O Lord, what is man that you should be mindful of him, or the son of man that you should (even) care for him?  Man is like a breath; his days are like a fleeting shadow..."  (Ps 144:3-4)  Like the smallest possible sparks of light are we in the vastness of creation.  Yet, we are told we are of greatest value.

The human ego is a conscious construct of the mind that gives us the reality of "self" in the context of are surrounding conscious reality.  We can inflate this sense of "self" to the point that an individual can think of him/her-self as the center of almost everything.  How important...in the perspective of the universe...are our machinations, pronouncements, and efforts to be the center of attention?  If we take away the lenses of  macro/micro perspective, we are left with the duality that we have invented for self-justification.  In order to be whole, I have to be right and in control.  That means that others have to be wrong and not in control.  As I really wake up to this day, I realize there is not a duality of life/death, or good/evil, right/wrong.  Motion is constant...and we are moving at blinding speeds...literally.  Gravity is the weakest force in the universe and the only "seatbelt" we have, as we hurl through space and time.  Time, in fact, is a unit of motion.  This makes age and experience relative to our capacity to truly be in any given moment of that motion.  Nothing is going to stop for us.  

Lest you think that I have careened onto a road of gloom and doom, I submit to you that this is really good news.  If we let go of the ego construct as THE defining reality of who we are, the true "driver" of our life becomes abundantly clear.  There is an essential center of our being that connects us to both conscious and hyper-conscious reality.  For lack of anything better, we call it "Self" (the "S" is capitalized).  In my tradition (Judeo-Christian), Jesus, asked the question, "what does it count to gain the whole world at the cost of True Self?..." (Mark 8:26 or Matthew 16:26).  Other traditions have similar considerations in this life journey.  It is a question for everyperson.  

Most biblical scholars/translators use "soul" in place of  "True Self" in translating the biblical texts above.  The Greek language of the original writings is much more sublime than English.  Our theological language -- regardless of our religious tradition -- is a product of filtering experience through the ego structure to create a relational structure we call doctrine.  Doctrine can quickly become dualistic.  In the Hegelian model, this dualism should be synthesized into a new conceptualization.  In our reality construct, however, we maintain the duality of, say, "orthodox" vs. "heterodox."  That means that someone has the real truth and someone else is a heretic/blasphemer or worse.  We are currently "stuck" in this false reality...as evidenced by our own socio-political machinations of the moment.

On this day, I am comforted by Dame Julian of Norwich (1342-1416).  After a prolonged illness from which she nearly died, Julian had a series of mystical visions...gifts from Spirit.  At the end of those, her summary words were:  "And all shall be well...all manner of things shall be well."  It was the voice of True Self.  Dualism no longer existed for her.  It was the continuum of creation reality.

The ego, in its created place, serves rather than drives.  It gathers information, processes what our senses take in, but does not qualify or quantify (i.e. make judgement).  The True Self...informed by its own nature as Divine Love... embraces the experience and engages our environment and external experiences with an open stance...seeking synthesis in the presentations of all actions (judged dualistically by the ego).

Well, I woke up thinking about death...mine?  One day I will no longer engage this reality in the manner I do now.  I am deeply affected by the experience of Dr. Eben Alexander, MD (Proof of Heaven).  There is a reality far greater....a hyper-consciousness.

Meanwhile, men and women will go on thumping their chests, rattling their metaphorical sabers, standing in judgement, crying for revenge, looking for the worst, being proud of the badge of identity they wear that makes them more special or better than anyone else.  These things will go on, as Creation groans in its birth pangs (a paraphrase of a statement by Paul the Apostle).   Yet, there are a growing number of people from all walks of life and spiritual traditions who are awakening into True Self.  It is a good day.  Life is a beach.

Love and Blessings,

Fred

Silence

This morning I arose early.  My wife, Denise, was already in the kitchen downstairs...preparing to go to the nearby Hospice office.  She is one of the RNs on call for this Saturday.  This means that most all of this day will be just me and our dog, Duchess, at home.

Our townhome is quiet.  It is officially a year old...receiving it's certificate of occupancy by the builder on 25 March 2012.  We will officially be here one year on 4 April.  Like all condominiums and homes built since 2006, our home is built like a fort...concrete block reinforced with iron rods and concrete...poured concrete between the first and second floor (rather than wood)...special trusses locked into place with tile shingles...shatter-proof windows and reinforced garage and main entry doors.  In fact, the only wood in this construction are the roof trusses.  This construction is called "Miami-Dade Code," which is being used by much of south coastal Florida following Hurricane Andrew in 1992 and the severe hurricanes of 2005.  The 28 buildings and 224 condos that comprise our community, "Stonehaven," are not going anywhere for a long time.

I share the above details to emphasize that, when I say it is quiet, it is seriously quiet.  We can hear close-in machinery, or an occasional dog barking, or a close-in seagull calling.  Other than that, I never even hear our neighbors.  There's nine inches of concrete between each condo.  Because both first and second floors are concrete, there is no creaking, squeaking or much ability to hear whoever is upstairs or downstairs.  Often, Denise and I simply call each other on the cell phones...if I am in my study upstairs and she is somewhere downstairs.  It is quiet...very quiet.

Today is known as Holy Saturday.  It is really my first Holy Saturday since retirement.  My chronological first was last year (2012), and, as I shared in yesterday's blog, we were moving into this townhome last Holy Week, and I was still drugged from major surgery at Mayo, Rochester, which had implanted a total joint in my right shoulder.  I have little memory beyond extreme discomfort from surgery, travel and the movers (very good movers, by the way).  Today, I have time to reflect.  Today is different from any Holy Saturday in the past 38 years.

The ripping and tearing that makes Good Friday is done.  The Solemn Liturgy of Good Friday in my tradition (Anglicanism...Episcopal Church in the USA) is one of the most powerful of the liturgical year.  The final collect (liturgical prayer) of that liturgy is, for me, like the launch of a small, rudderless boat onto an uncharted sea.  The early Celtic monks in the British Isles used small, oval shaped, rudderless boats made usually of animal hide...called Coracles...setting out with only what was needed to land where God, wind and current would take them.  This is how I feel at the close of the Good Friday Solemn Liturgy.  It carries through Holy Saturday.

Many liturgical churches post that the precincts of the parish buildings remain in silence from Maundy Thursdy until the Great Vigil of Easter.  That has always been fairly well accomplished in parishes I have led.  Office doors stay closed to mask necessary parish work.  There are quiet sounds of folks moving about making various preparations for the next time of worship...an occasional "stage whisper" conversation, as final details are discussed and clarified.

Holy Saturday is both a day of emptiness and one of preparation.  Every Holy Saturday of my active parish work was spent at the church.  The day began with a simple Office of Prayer with gathered staff and volunteers.  The Altar Guild got busy quickly.  The worship spaces that had been stripped bare since Maundy Thursday must be polished, cleaned and reset with the linens, vessels, icons and other furnishings.

Hiding in rooms for a few days had been a dazzling array of flowers, plants and greenery.  I have always been blessed with women (and men) who can create the most magnificent floral displays for Easter worship.  With deft efficiency, the cold and barren spaces would come to life with color, sweet odors and a kind of "electricity" of anticipation.

Meanwhile, I the priest had a particular series of preparations.  At or near the entrance into the main worship area, a simple table had been placed, on which was a simple white linen.  In the center of that table, I placed a triple layered aluminum foil base upon which an habachi-style grill rested.  (Note:  this is where being a guy and former Boy Scout gets to have fun).  Having painstakingly gathered just the right small pieces of wood, I created a tipi-style assembly of those sticks in the grill base underneath of which I have placed a small piece of rolled cardboard soaked in paraffin.  An SOG utility knife and a ferrocerium fire starting rod completed this part of the ensemble.

What I just described existed to light and bless the New Fire of Easter.  Along side that ensemble was the four foot Paschal Candle with the elements that were put in place and blessed at the beginning of the Easter Vigil.  All of this took about an hour or so.  I had been able to use my hatchet to splinter sticks of wood.  I had tested the ferrocerium stick by vigorously thrusting the edge of the utility knife blade down the edge of the stick to create a shower of sparks.  I had used the same knife to trim the Paschal Candle so the brass follower will sit securely.  I had used a hammer and nail to insure that the holes were prepared on the candle to receive the wax ornamental nails on the cross that decorates the candle.  The Paschal Candle is the symbol of "Resurrection Light"... the "Light of Christ."  It burns at every liturgy during the coming Great Fifty Days of Easter.

When all of this was accomplished, and I had rehearsed with staff and parishioners involved in  the coming liturgies, and walked, with clergy staff and Altar Guild leaders, through final elements of preparing our worship spaces...seeing that all things were in place, and insuring that the paperwork for those being baptized at the Vigil was complete and at hand......When all that was done, it would be early afternoon of Holy Saturday.  Everyone was either gone or had repaired to other places for their own preparations.

It was then...in the quiet of the church...that I could hear it...Nothing.

For many, nothing is a scary space.  I did, one time, sit in a sensory deprivation chamber as an experiment.  Deprived of all sound, light and ability for voice reverberation, one can quickly get the idea of "nothing."  The scientist and philosopher in me doesn't accept "nothing" as a state of being.  If you can describe "nothing," then it is something.  "Nothing" is an integral part of being.  It is part of the tapestry of existence.  The simple truth is that it is "nothing" because we have no data to describe what that is.  Well, we do, but it makes our brains hurt to deal with it.

During the time between late 1987 and through most of 1988, I went through something very profound.  I have few words for it.  The narrative for the experience would not make sense out of context or on "paper."  Suffice it to say, I came upon a black hole...deep, pitch black, wide and frightening.  I could not run from it or avoid it.  Wherever I went, it was there.  I tried to convince myself I was going insane...but I didn't have time for that.  I had a congregation to lead and care for....a wife and two young daughters...a diocesan school to administrate.  I don't have time for this!!!!  I yelled one evening.  "Yes you do," came a soft reply...like a mother teaching a child to walk.

Two moments of awareness let me know that the "nothing"... the black hole...was, indeed something.  The soft voice gave me the name....I AM.

Without ponderous storytelling, I will simply say that being in that "Nothing" was the greatest comfort ever.  But, I began running from it...hard...around 1991.  Why?  Because, this nothing-that-was-something asked of me what I feared the most:  Vulnerability and the risk of rejection.  My ego was not able to embrace that.  I have described the effects of that in a January 2013 blog.

Today is Holy Saturday.  The disciples were dazed, confused, lost and feeling like all they believed had become Nothing.  They found their way back to that familiar upper room and gave each other what encouragement and comfort they could.  "What has happened to us...what is to become of us?!" was no doubt the topic of conversation.  Practical Peter even talked about going back home to go fishing again...maybe after this Passover Day is complete.

In the churches I worked, I would sit in the spaces of worship for two or three hours each Holy Saturday...my upper room.  The emptiness was palpable.  The cynic in me would argue with my soul about snitty things like, 'parishioners don't care...they won't come.'  Then, 'those whose hearts are open will be here.'  The cynic:  'I need a beer.'  My soul, 'that's self medication...you know you don't drink during Holy Week.'  Cynic:  'Is all this we have done too much or not enough?'  Soul:  'You have always worried too much...just get quiet and listen.'  This would go on for a time.  Then, suddenly, it would stop.  Folks were here, but I could not see them or hear them.  I just knew it somehow.  "Nothing?"  Not really.

Today is 30 March 2013.  It is Holy Saturday.  I have no need for hatchet, knife, ferrocerium stick or other materials.  My basic vestment...my cassock-alb...is in the vesting room at St. Boniface Episcopal Church on Siesta Key...five miles away.  It is where I worship in retirement.  It is where I have walked Holy Week.  Tonight, I will watch the Rector of St. Boniface light the New Fire and bless the Paschal Candle.  My former bishop in West Missouri...now retired and living in St. Petersburg...will preside at the Vigil Liturgy.  He was the Assistant at St. Boniface in the early 1970s.  Tomorrow, I will assist the Rector at the 9am Easter Day liturgy.  I have no script.  I need none.

Today...outside of writing this...I am in silence.  Silence.  Almost.  Nothing.  Never.  A while back, I turned and faced the black hole from which I spent some years running.  We are friends.  It is part of me.  Nothing?  No, something....I AM.  I AM is with me.  Holy Saturday...Holy Silence.

Amen.

Fred+

Desolation: Good Friday

Desolation; from De-solare = to be abandoned; to be laid waste

The End is the Beginning
Last evening was the first time, since retirement, that I have been to a Maundy Thursday liturgy.  Last year (2012), we were literally moving into our Sarasota home; and I was less than two weeks out of major surgery.  I barely remember Holy Week last year.

Last evening, as I sat in the congregation of St. Boniface, I was struck by the last actions of the liturgy.  As a symbolic ritual of what Good Friday means, the sanctuary (altar area) is completely stripped of everything but the bare furnishings.  Clergy, acolytes and altar guild quietly and efficiently remove linens, cushions, candles, floral arrangements, silver, brass, gold and the Reserve Sacrament (Eucharistic bread and wine is reserved in a special receptacle called an aumbry to be taken to the sick or for other sacramental needs between liturgies).  In the final action, the senior priest "washes" the top of the altar...usually with a special cleansing polish...to signify it being barren.  On many altars, a simple wooden crucifix is then placed and remains until Easter preparation.

I have done this ritual, as a parish priest, 34 times.  I am caught by the power of it as much each year...especially as I leave the altar area with the lights fully dimmed and absolutely nothing but a wooden crucifix.  Usually, the one from my office, which is three feet tall.

Last night, I knelt in awe as I watched this being done by others.  I realized that I had audibly exclaimed:  "Lord have mercy."  The two teenagers in front of me sort of glanced back.  I was taken by the sense of desolation.  All that was familiar and made that worship space special was gone.  It had been laid waste.  Good Friday had begun.

Chaos
One of my colleagues once described order as "controlled chaos."  I have found this amusing insomuch as experience quickly verifies the observation.  One of our daughters used to describe unsettled experiences as being "random" (a sudden change in family plans for an outing would elicit a, "this is totally random" reaction from her).  It's a good descriptor of what ensues when order and planning gets impacted by unanticipated actions...like a bowling ball hitting the pins.

The disciples knew that something was up.  The days had been tense, since they had arrived with Jesus in Jerusalem.  What they did not expect is to see how an evening of ordered experiences (as surprising as they may have been...see yesterday's blog) suddenly became unraveled in Gethsemane.  Like a bowling ball hitting pins, they scattered in all directions...some hiding...others blending into the crowd...one following but in denial...the 12th committing suicide out of shame and fear.  When order turns to chaos, everything becomes random.

Emerging into the quiet, pre-dawn dimness of this day, I was struck by how empty I felt.  It was not a fearful emptiness but one that softly hinted of displacement.  Because I am one who lives within the seasons of Christ-life, it was a recognition that, while the historical day of crucifixion was some 2,000 years behind me, death and desolation remain partnered in our experience.

Belonging
As I have said before, we humans are very good at avoiding the messiness and "dirtiness" of daily life.  We cover ourselves with dyes and paints; fill our skins with botox; and pay for countless "miracle cures" for whatever we think ails us...all as a way of getting ourselves to avoid the inevitabilities of aging.  One of the largest groups of medical professionals in this part of Florida are plastic/reconstructive surgeons and dermatologists.

We also avoid the messiness of those of different socio-economic and ethnic backgrounds.    America is not without its own caste system.  If it seems unpleasant or "beneath us," we find ways of changing the subject and getting distance from it.  Over the decades of doing mission, I lost track of the number of times I asked for "hands on" help with urgent needs only to be met with something like, "I'm really quite busy...how much money do you need."  Funding masks the problem and makes it go away for those who see it as distasteful.

This is not meant to be harsh, but it is meant to be real.  For most of us, membership is everything.  Within the context of Christian parochial community, we have long had standards of membership within a worshiping congregation.  The Eucharist, that Jesus instituted with his disciples in that upper room?  It was (and is) a complete act of love...a gift of Grace.  It is one thing to understand...yet something else to experience.  Yet, we use the sacraments in very exclusive ways to define "who is in, and who is out."  In my more contemplative moments, I sense a desolation in how we have treated others by claiming Jesus as our "property."

Good
We call this Good Friday for a reason.  From the looks and historical perspective of this day, it is gruesome, ugly, hateful, bloody, judgmental, mocking and singularly horrible.  The Romans committed thousands of executions using crucifixion, beheading and hanging. The Jewish Sanhedrin claimed that it wasn't their way to  execute criminals (but, they did stone prostitutes and so-called heretic often).  However, the Sanhedrin did make deals with the Roman government to do that work for them.  That was the dialogue behind Pilate finding no fault with Jesus, and the crowd being pushed (by representatives of the Sanhedrin) to cry out, "Give us Barrabas; Crucify Jesus!!"

Jesus had the audacity to love sinners enough to spend time with them.  He healed outcasts and told Jews to accept those who were considered unclean, because they belonged to God also.  He ate and drank with the ritually unclean and those who society had shunned.  He flew in the face of authority by throwing money changers out of the Temple and calling Pharisees and Sadducees "hypocrites."  He taught that folks should render to the Roman government what was theirs (Roman money buoyed the eastern Mediterranean economy) and give God honor.

Jesus taught a kind of unity and integrity that was not known in civilization at that time.  He refused the Zealots' plea to lead an insurrection...an armed revolt against both the Roman occupation and Herodian dynasty.  He carried no weapon and spoke of creating relationships based upon loving others as they were loved by God...turning the other cheek; raising up the poor and setting the captives free.  All this he summed up in the Great Commandment and the Beatitudes.

"Good" means that Jesus took all the anger, hate, fear and brokenness of our humanity with him to execution on a garbage heap outside the city wall...a place called Golgotha...the Place of the Skull.

We are reminded that the image of Jesus on the cross is what humanity has done to itself and one another.  We leave this day...Good Friday...with desolation, confusion and a kind of gnawing anxiety.  What is happening here!!

Take Away
On this day -- every year -- my sense of displacement and emptiness is a reminder of my humanity.   Of our humanity.  We still play games of entitlement.  We do everything that folks were doing in the historical days of Jesus.  Two thousand years have gone by, and we are more technologically evolved and mentally more capable.  We have made some progress.  But, slavery, bigotry, hatred, fear, killing, threatening, judging, and marginalizing still happen.  What took Jesus to his execution still happens today under other names and guises.

This is why we need this day...this Good Friday.  That is why, at the Ninth Hour (3pm) every year...the traditional time that Jesus died on the cross...I play the American Folk Hymn, "What Wondrous Love is this, O my soul..."  You can find it on YouTube.  It is Wondrous Love at work that makes this day Good.  God is totally loving us...in spite of ourselves.  Jesus is God saying, "If you want to know what I created you to be...look at Jesus...the pioneer and perfecter."

Sat Nam.  Stabat Mater.

Fred+

Mandate

In the Christian tradition, this week is known as Holy Week.  It is the most sacred week of our liturgical calendar:  beginning with the Sunday of the Passion (also known as Palm Sunday) and completed in the Day of Resurrection (also known as Easter Day).  Both Sundays are essential "brackets" to the most intense journey of our spiritual lives in annual cycle.

At the heart of Holy Week are the "Three Holiest Days."  These are known as the Triduum Sacrum:  Sacred (Holy) Three Days.  Those days are Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday.

Christian holy days, like those of the Jewish tradition, follow a lunar pattern.  That pattern includes the days being measured from sundown to sundown.  Technically, Maundy Thursday began at sundown Wednesday evening.  As I write this, it is early afternoon of Maundy Thursday (1:30pm, Thursday, 3/28/13).  Good Friday begins at sundown this evening.  Because our world cultures now most all use a solar calendar, this liturgical thinking can seem a bit confusing.  I have been doing it for 38 years (since the beginning of seminary) professionally.  Just as six years in the U.S. Navy taught me to think in a 24 hour clock, I think in ecclesiastical liturgical time almost exclusively (I can also think in both metric and traditional weights and measures, but that's another story....science).

Maundy Thursday
"Maundy" is the Anglicized name for the Latin word "Mandatum."  It literally means, "command" or "instruction by authority."  We use the word "mandate" in common parlance to mean the same thing.

The origin of this word in Holy Week reflects the actions of the first of the Holy Three Days.  Jesus did three things:

1. Washed his disciples' feet (serve)
2. Shared the Chaburah with the statements "Do this in remembrance of me" (Eucharist)
3. Told his followers to "watch with me" in the Garden (Pray)

These three mandates are summed up in one singular command (mandate) by Jesus:  Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. (John 13:34, NIV)

Servanthood
In the time of Jesus, the washing of feet was a truly nasty job.  In almost every Jewish home, as one entered, he/she would remove sandals and sit on a stool to wash their feet. There were no city sewers, and hygiene on streets and paths was practically non-existent. In wealthier homes, a servant was employed to wash the feet of guests, as they arrived for an event.  It was an "entry level" task (it is where we get that term, btw)...the most menial form of service in a household or public building.

Sundown on what we now call Thursday marked the beginning of the Day of Preparation for the Passover, which coincided with the sabbath (our Saturday), in the year of Jesus' crucifixion.  It was customary to have a meal with friends and family...the first-feast of the Day of Passover.  That meal was called a Chaburah.  It was the meal at which Jesus gathered his disciples in an upstairs room.  It is quite probable that, in addition to the Twelve core disciples, other men and women were present...family almost assuredly.

At the beginning of this meal, Jesus took off his outer garment (tunic), hiked up is undergarment (what we call an albus), and wrapped a serving towel around his waist.  With a large bowl and pitcher of water, he began washing the feet of each of the disciples.  The Teacher (Rabboni) functioning as the most menial house-servant to his students....totally scandalous and unheard of!  Peter protested most loudly and with great indignation that Jesus would stoop to this task.

Jesus...whom I imagine looking up at Peter with some kind of slight smile but being very sanguine...said to Peter, "If you do not let me do this, you have no part of me..."  He went on to tell everyone that to be first, one must be servant of all...no servant is greater than the master.

To be in community means to engage life with humility, respect and a kind of love that is great enough to "get dirty" for another...meeting them where they are.  These are acts of agape...Grace...Divine Love.

Eucharist
This word, Eucharist, means Thanksgiving.  It is the name given by the Apostolic community to describe the Chaburah meal that Jesus shared that evening.  While, in many ways, the Last Supper of Jesus (as many have come to call this meal), was quite typical of what Jews throughout Israel were doing at that same time, Jesus took a departure from what was normal.  He introduced words that were not part of the script of this event.  Here are the marks:

• He took bread
• He broke the bread
• He blessed the bread
• Gave it to his friends, saying
• "Do this for the remembrance of me."
• He did the same with the cup, as he did with the bread.

We miss the meaning of a key word used by Jesus:  remembrance.

In Greek (as well as Aramaic), there are two terms for "remember."  The one Jesus used in his words was anamnesis.  This word literally means, "to bring together again"... or actually to "re-member" (reassemble the members).

This can be taken several ways.  In my tradition (Anglicanism), we call it Real Presence.  It is the essential mystery in the midst of this action:  Jesus is saying, in essence, "whenever you do this I will come among you."  As we understand our nature as being created in the image of God, it is the place, deep within our being, where the Divine...Jesus...encounters us.  That is why we call Eucharist and Baptism the Dominical Sacraments.  They are foundational and given to us directly by Jesus.  Sacrament is the outward sign of an inward Grace:  bread and wine...Presence of Christ.

[Side note:  for those who want to test the scholarship of the origin of Eucharist, I invite you to carefully read these scholars:  Dom Gregory Dix, Josef Jungmann and Louis Bouyer.  Also, in the Chaburah meal, the prayer over bread comes first; followed by the wine.  In the Passover Meal, the wine is blessed first; followed by the bread].

So, the second mandate is for us to be in holy fellowship with one another...to be a realized community.

Watch (Pray)

After the meal, Jesus and his group repair to the Garden of Gethsemane.  It is here that Jesus prepares for what will come next.  As he moved apart to pray, he specifically asked his core disciples to "Watch with me."  In Aramaic, the word "watch" is very much akin to a time of contemplation.  In John's Gospel, this close-in disciple relates a lengthy prayer discourse that entreats God to provide the Grace of equipping the disciples to take the next steps.  In this, Jesus expresses the agony of what will be coming upon him...betrayal, denial, scourging, mocking and a gruesome death.  

In two of the Gospel narratives, Jesus does some walking around and finds the disciples closest to him falling asleep.  "Can you not watch with me even one hour?!"  Be open.  Pray.  Go inward.  Listen.  Receive.  Remain alert

Implications for Now

Walking through these Holy Three Days is hard for us in the modern era.  First, our culture no longer breaks from normal work to allow folks to engage these days.  Second, many non-liturgical churches do nothing beyond a Good Friday gathering between Palm Sunday and Easter Day.  Third, the intensity of living this experience...even in solemn liturgy...is simply more than a lot of folks can handle.  We speak of "charges" regarding places of ego pain, memory and fear with which we simply don't want to sit.  These holy days are like electricity on raw nerves for many.  Our culture has taught us:  'if you can't deal with it, run from it...or at least avoid it at all costs.'

The average 1.5 hours of a good Palm Sunday liturgy is about all that folks seem to be able to handle.  Then, we hope like crazy Easter gets here before we have to think any more deeply.  Or, let's go have some fun between Palm Sunday and Easter Day.  

Okay, it's the reality we currently inherit and create for ourselves.  While much of the world is not Christian...or in a liturgical Christian tradition, all spiritual traditions that I know about have a journey through abdication, denial, fear and a kind of death experience before coming into a full relationship with the Holy One.  Every spiritual tradition of which I have knowledge also has a meal that is shared and kinds of service to one another that are acts of humility.

The Native Americans (Lakota language here) have a saying that is used whenever prayer is said, people gather, and the sacred engaged:  Mitakuye Oyasin...All our Relations (We are all One).  Jesus said, "May they be one as you and I are One."  Buddhists and Hindus say, Namaste...The Divine in me sees (honors) the Divine in you (we are one).

Maundy Thursday reminds us that we are connected to one another and the Great Mystery...the transcendent God.  It invites surrender.  It asks us to stop and contemplate the mysteries that make us uniquely human.  It invites us to see the Divine in one another...to let go of our ego and pre-disposition to judge and create artificial boundaries, or castes.  It invites the creation of sustainable community (i.e. "commonality").  

Someone might wish to say, "but, but, what you just said sounds like socialism."  Right, that's a fear word.  All I am saying is what 38 years worth of Holy Weeks have said to me in my tradition.  Sit with that charge a bit.  Watch for an hour.

Love and Blessings,

Fred+

Radical Reconciliation

"Tell me, who did this?!  Why did this happen?  Whose fault is it?!  Someone will pay!"  These are just a few of the pointed and often intense questions and exclamations delivered when an event occurs that either shocks or incites pain or anger.  One cannot say that it is particular to our time and place as the human community.  It is part of the very fabric of who we are from the earliest recorded time.

I will not provide a history lesson here; but I will interject one example in history to set a point.  The Civil War is arguably the lowest point in America's growth history.  It was a time of "brother against brother"... using that phrase as an icon of divisive anger/hatred  that left more than 600,000 people dead and more than 1 million permanently wounded.

Leading up to and during the years of this brutal time, both sides believed stridently that God honored their cause and blessed their efforts in battle.  At each moment of advantage, generals in the field could be heard quietly uttering, "God's Will," as they ordered troops into the fight to secure that advantage.

As the war was ending, President Lincoln was adamant that north and south would be reunited in full reconciliation.  He was developing a plan for that reconciliation at the time of his assassination on Good Friday 1865.  His plan was greatly criticized by many northern leaders as being overly generous and lacking sufficient "punishment" for secession and creating the great strain both economically and in cost of human life.

After Lincoln's death, what emerged was a long period known as "Reconstruction."  It was a painful period that was reconciliation in name only.

I call your attention to the painting that accompanies this blog post.  It is Rembrandt's "The Return of the Prodigal Son," which was one of the last of the master's works prior to his death in 1669.  This is a poignant reflection on the parable of Jesus told by Luke (Lk 15:11-31).  There are several things in the painting worthy of careful reflection.

• The son's head is shaved...a sign that he may have spent time in prison.  A shaved head was a sign of disgrace in Hebrew culture of that time.
• The son's clothing is actually the undergarments of that time.  He has no tunic or cloak.
• His sandals are worn and broken.  His left foot shows both sores and scars.
• His posture is one of humiliation and defeat.
• The father's hands tell a big story:  They don't just touch the son; they are holding him close.
• The father's left hand is strong and muscular..fingers spread and holding his son's shoulder.  Even though it appears sensitive, there is a firm, reassuring grip.
• The father's right hand is different.  It is not holding or grasping.  It is more refined...soft and tender.  It appears that he may even be caressing or stroking his son.  It is almost like a mother's hand.
• The father is not simply the great patriarch; but he is also a tender, caring, loving parent.  It is a conjoint masculine/feminine nature at work simultaneously.
• The elder son is standing at the right of the painting.  His hands are together in a pensive posture.  His eyes bear a skeptical and not altogether approving look...almost as if he is considering turning away from the scene altogether

The term "reconciliation" is from the Greek, "kata" & "allasso":  "transformed throughout".  It can also mean, "make whole again."  Both meanings can apply to the story of the prodigal son.  Using Rembrandt's "icon" of the story, the father's action is one of transforming the son from errant renegade to being fully one in community...family.  But what about the older son?
In Jewish law of the time, if there were two sons, the elder would receive two-thirds of the estate and the younger son would receive the other one-third.  When the younger son left home and asked for his share, he received one-third of what was in the estate.  Now that he had returned and been reconciled (as the above meaning implies), the estate goes back to a shared whole.   In modern terms, the elder son could well be thinking, "My trust fund has just been hacked by this scum brother of mine!"

I ask you to give some thought to another parable in Matthew 20:1-16.  It is called the Parable of the Vineyard.  In summary:  the workers who come to work the last hour of the work day receive the same wage as the workers who have worked from the beginning of the day.  The day long workers are hugely incensed by what appears to them to be a radically unfair decision on the part of the owner of the vineyard.

Place these two parables side-by-side.  Jesus told these stories to create a tapestry that provides a big picture.  Behind the characters in the story are immutable truths about the nature of God.  The operative term for this nature is Love.  In Christian theology, we call it Grace (defined as God's unconditional love, freely given, without consideration of return).

I share these two parables to make a point.  Our culture is currently at a juncture where several things could happen.  As a backdrop, I think both social media and news media play major roles in creating both fear and distrust.  We don't just disagree with one another, we say destructive things and make damning judgments about folks with whom we disagree.  We engage in prejudicial actions...masking them as ideological differences.  We have created a kind of radical dualism that has not been seen since the era of the Civil War, which is why I led with that reflection.

1. Every human being on the face of this planet...regardless of ethnic origin, nationality, gender or orientation...is created in the image of God.  
2. Every human being on the face of this planet has the same genetic material, which means we all came from a common ancestral root.  As before, I ask you to look at the work of geneticists Spencer Wells and Francis Collins to verify this.  There is no "us-them" in terms of who we are.  
3. Our nature reflects God, and God is Love.  That Love permeates all of creation.  It is the centerpoint.  
4. Out of Love comes Compassion, Mercy and the kind of Justice that leads to a Radical Reconciliation.

Two examples:

• When Pope John Paul II was nearly assassinated in May 1981, the assassin, Mehmet Ali Agca, was captured immediately and sentenced to life in an Italian prison.  Pope John Paul went to see him in prison and is said to have embraced Agca in an act of full forgiveness.  Agca kissed the Pope's ring in an act of humility not considered possible in light of his original hatred.  Radical Reconciliation.
• On 6 October 2006, Charles Roberts entered an Amish school in Lancaster County, PA and killed five girls before committing suicide.  In response, the parents of the slain girls (and the other five girls also held hostage and surviving), met with the Roberts family...forgiving their son/husband/father and, in an even more conciliatory manner, set up a trust fund for the care of Roberts wife and children.  Amish leaders told media, "Do not hate this man...God is just..."   Radical Reconciliation.

I recently received a message from someone who plainly said, "he bears the mark of the beast...666," referring to President Obama.  I wish that would be the worst thing I have seen in social media over the last two years.  The person I just cited claims to be a Christian.  I cannot judge that, but such a statement is not one of Love.  It is one of a radical dislike bordering on hatred.  The video/television media models a kind of paranoia and vitriolic speech that fosters fear, anger and, yes, hatred.  I now rarely watch newscasts. 

For Christians, here is a thought:  

"The cross is the standing statement of what we do to one another and to ourselves.  The resurrection is the standing statement of what God does to us in return." (Fr.Richard Rohr)

A large crucifix hangs on the wall above my desk.  It was given to me by my sacramental theology professor, mentor, & spiritual director, The Rev. Dr. Louis Weil, when I was a senior seminarian...early 1978.  It has always hung near my desk, and I have had innumerable comments about "the dead Jesus on the cross."  It does seem macabre on first look.  However, it is counter-intuitive.  It was not God who crucified Jesus.  It was the desire of the Sanhedrin and the actions of the Roman government that did that.  As Richard Rohr states...we do this to one another.  God's action is to raise up...radical reconciliation.  The crucifix is a reminder to me that we are not above doing this even now...we do so daily.  It is an invitation to radical reconciliation.

Another thought:

"When God sees us, God sees our uniqueness, our particularities, our peculiarities, our strengths, our weaknesses, etc.  And God loves us for who we are, warts and all."  (Br. Mark Brown, Society of St. John the Evangelist)

When we are in judgment of others, we are like the elder son in the prodigal parable.  We believe ourselves better, purer and superior to "them"... whoever the "them" may be.   We are the elder son...looking for someone to blame; seeking punishment; projecting our fear of what we might lose...even in our bounty.  Think of the person(s) you currently most dislike...or someone whom you reject for whatever reason.  Can you simply love them the way you want to be loved?  It does not matter that the person thinks, acts, or looks different from you.  Can you love that person, as God loves them...and loves you?
This is the only question that really matters in creating a true oneness with God and with one another.

Finally, sit quietly in a place of your choosing...a place apart from distractions of the moment.  Relax your body...starting with your facial muscles.  You will be surprised just how tight you really are.  Now, take in a deep breath through your nostrils and, then, slowly exhale through your mouth...forming your lips as if you were using a straw.  Repeat this breathing practice two more times.

Let your mind drift.  Let go of the day and the inner ego chatter.  Just be still.  Now, in whatever tradition most comfortable to you, invite the Divine to embrace you.  Feel the love that comes with that experience.  Simply rest in that feeling for some time.

Whenever you feel complete, simply say:  "May I share this love with everyone around 
me...May I see every other human being as an extension of your Love.  You accept me as I am; may I accept every other human being just as they are....Make me an instrument of Reconciliation."

May it be so.

Much love,

Fred+

Dirt and Ashes

"Create in me a clean heart, O God; renew a right spirit within me."

Psalm 51:10

When we lived in Lee's Summit, Missouri, we bought a home in a subdivision that was about 9 years old.  Our home was five years old when we moved in.  It was a great area to live, and the neighborhood had a lively mixture of young and not-so-young folks...friendly and caring.

We had a homeowners association that oversaw our community pool, a pond in the neighborhood, and the care of the greenspaces that were common property.  It was then that I learned that this large development had been "robbed" during its construction.  The developer, when clearing the farmland for building, had also removed the top two feet of soil, taken it to another area and sold the soil for additional profit.  What we had left was the thicker clay-type subsoil, which did not allow for much water to soak through.  It made maintaining lawns and shrubs much more difficult.

With that knowledge and the help of a soil specialist, I learned how to aerate the less fertile ground beneath the lawn and apply the proper nutrients that would allow grass, plants and trees to grow and prosper.  In a sense, I got the land to work despite its insufficiency.  BUT, the insufficiencies were not part of the original organic nature of the land.  The top two feet of land, that had been removed, had sustained eons of prairie grasses, trees, plants and...over the 150 years prior to development...bountiful harvests of corn, wheat and other vegetables.

After selling our Lee's Summit home last March (2012), I let my concerns about all that go the way of no longer needed knowledge.  Until Wednesday night (02/20/13)...

I attended a meeting of our condo development homeowners association.  Two things happened at this meeting.  1)  I was asked to serve on the "architectural review committee," which will include the lawn/landscaping elements of Stonehaven (our development name).  2)  We were introduced to the lawn/landscape company that will be our folks for keeping grass, plants, trees, irrigation, etc. looking and functioning at their best.  The first was expected.  Our board members had already asked me to serve, because I had expressed concern over the previous company's seeming lack of expertise.  We pay HOA fees to have a well maintained development.

It was the second experience that got my real attention.  The owner and manager for the new landscape company were present and introduced themselves and the services they would be providing.  The owner expressed concern that our lawns and plants seemed a bit "anemic."  He will be taking soil samples for analysis and then applying appropriate organic materials to "beef up" the soil.  Then he said it:  "As you may know, when developers clear land for new construction, they usually take most all the topsoil to sell privately...what you have is subsoil that has not been properly prepared and enriched."  

So, this is a common practice all over the place.  That was rather new knowledge to me.  Suddenly, the right brain went to work again.  A connection was made, and an image emerged.

When a child is born, the fullness of that being is already present.  It is the Imago...the Divine Character...the Essence.  The newborn is also like a fertile field in which can be planted all that will connect him/her to life in the sensate, relational environment.  In terms of our openness, it is the True Self (birth self) which connects to this sensate, relational reality.

However, we also carry the capacity to create our reality in a form and dimension that corresponds to the boundaries within our field of being.  We call that capacity the ego.  It is there to serve and engage.  What "socialization skills" essentially do is to "scrape off" or strip away the fertile ground of True Self and replace it with the growing, functional ego...containing the expectations and rules of relationship; the less fertile and more shallow qualities of a self that reduces reality to the thin veneer of cause-effect interaction.

The emergence of the ego is not a bad thing in itself.  The Hebrew Scriptures (aka, Old Testament) tells the story of how the ego replaces True Self.  That replacement is known as Original Sin.  The sad part of theological development has been to say that "we are born with original sin."  We are not.  We are born with the capacity to either choose or to be conditioned to choose those things that structure the ego as the central identifier of human character.  The fully developed, separated and individualistic ego is the "apple" held out to the homo sapiens.

The fertile "top soil" of True Self is not robbed...like the top soil of a development site.  It is scraped away and buried so that, at worst, one becomes a self-consumed individualist (Simon & Garfunkel's, "I am rock; I am an island..").  At usual, the True Self becomes a voice within that moral theologians call the "character of goodness."  At best, the True Self re-emerges as the guiding force to which the ego becomes a faithful servant.

Here, I will say something controversial.  Not because I want to, but because of the need to make it clear.  This happens in every religion and every cultural group calling a religion the centerpiece of its principles.  Because we choose to function with egos more or less on "steroids," we create the Divine in our image.  For Christians, Jesus becomes a savior who thinks like I think and fits comfortably within the element of society and culture wherein I identify my own sense of what is right and wrong.  This happens in Islam, Hinduism and, as I said, every religious group.  We see it with the Fred Phelps group in Topeka, KS (an "At worst" example), or in elements of the Taliban (another "At worst" example).  Any enterprise where the phrasiology hangs around, "Me/Us and my/our god" is mostly working from ego-based inculturation and manufactured reality.

Yes, such words are harsh; but let's take a quick look at some words that appear in every spiritual tradition.  The most important is Humility.  The actual meaning of this word is: Of the Earth, or...more organically...from the dirt.  This word, humility, has been used to try to put folks in their places...as an attitude.  The foundational theological reality is that this from the dirt place is our True Self...out of which only true love and goodness can grow.  It is the fertile character of our birth nature.

Another word is metanoia.  The actual meaning is: to be turned around.  More to the core, it means to be recast or remade.  It is like the mound of clay on the potter's wheel that, in the process of throwing a pot, can be begun anew or reshaped to create its perfected form.  It is a process word.  However, we have turned it into an event word, which, for Christians, becomes the word:  "saved."  One of our more prideful capacities is to point with admiration at the very moment we "were saved."

Metanoia can also be translated repentance, which means turning away from.  It is a sturdy enough word but describes, again, only a beginning act of a much longer process.

Another word is hubris.  We use this word to speak of pride in a negative way.  Actually, it is a warning word.  It means: spiritual pride or excessive pride toward or defiance of the Divine.  It warns us that we have gotten really close to the kind of functionality that claims Divine Authority as one's own to wield.

Finally, there is the word contrition.  This is an almost forgotten word within moral theology.  It has two meanings:  act of drilling down, and showing a deep sense of guilt or remorse.  This is both an event and a process term.  It is the "aha" moment of something being wrong within...by virtue of thought or action.  It is the process of identification as to what that thought or action is that is creating the remorse or guilt.  The ego wants to deny guilt and remorse and will actively find ways to avoid responsibility.  Contrition loudly heralds our need to own whatever is going on inside...."to sit with the charge" as it were.

Ten days ago, the Christian tradition began the 40 day season of Lent.  Ash Wednesday marks (literally) the beginning of this annual journey.  In liturgical traditions of Christianity, the priest will bless ashes made from the palms of the previous Palm Sunday of Holy Week and will sign the worshiper with a cross on the forehead saying, "Remember that you are dust; and to dust you shall return."

This is a direct invitation to remember the rich, fertile soil of the True Self and our connection both to earth and to God.  It is an invitation to drill down and allow ourselves to be remade or recast.  We tend to make mockery of this journey by almost laughingly talking about what we are "giving up" for Lent.  Truly, if we don't emerge from the season of Lent having been fundamentally reshaped in some way, we have abused and wasted the season. 

This is an invitation to begin a process that leads to the ego being reduced to the place of servant to True Self.   We cannot force this process.  It is not one of bargaining, or buying, or controlling.  All of those are acts of hubris.

This is an invitation to submit in humility to the Divine...who loves us so much and wants only to shower us with transformational Grace.  The process begins with us asking, humbly, to be changed...and to really mean it.  Then allow whatever God wants to do with us happen.  Lent is making space for that process.  If we emerge and say, "I am now fully remade,"  chances are that we are not.

In the end, when we are remade, we proceed in the world in the state of being awake to our true nature, and the Divine utilizes us as people of transformation.  Our environment becomes the holy ground into which we were first born.  We experience others as fellow beings of light and transformation.  We celebrate connectedness and a kind of lovingkindness that cannot be manufactured or controlled on our own terms.  It simply is, because It Is.

Love and Blessings,

Fred