A New Journey -- Part 5: Praying Shapes Believing

"Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect
Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I'm younger than that now."

-- Lyrics by Bob Dylan, 1964, "My Back Pages" (Album:  "Another Side of Bob Dylan)

-- The Byrds, 1967 (Album:  "Younger Than Yesterday")

The title of this posting is not totally accurate to the text that will follow.  There is some of this, and the title, itself, is from one of my favorite books, Praying Shapes Believing: A Theological Commentary on the Book of Common Prayer, (1985) by the Rev. Dr. Leonel L. Mitchell.  There is some history here, in terms of my own journey.

My mentor and spiritual adviser in seminary was the Rev. Dr. Louis Weil.  Fr. Weil was professor of Liturgics and Sacramental Theology.  Louis Weil, Charles Price, Leonel Mitchell and Marion Hatchett were the most influential scholars in sacramental theology and worship in the Episcopal Church during the 20th Century.  There were others, but anyone from an accredited theological institution in the Episcopal, Roman Catholic and Lutheran Churches knew of these four -- and their works were required reading at all of our seminaries.  If they weren't, then I would say it's like calling a blood pressure of 140/90 "normal."  It isn't.

Dr. Louis Weil, 1975

My passion for good liturgy, my deep love for sacramental theology and its impact on daily spiritual life, and my own life of prayer came in great measure from my time with Louis Weil.  It was he who impacted Nashotah students from around 1973 until 1988.  Louis Weil spent his years from 1989 until retirement, a few years ago, at Church Divinity School of the Pacific, Berkeley, CA -- one of our seminaries.  CDSP is part of the Graduate Theological Union at Berkeley:  a  consortium of nine independent theological schools clustered around a major library and academic research center.  It was founded in 1962.  

When I became Dean of St. James Cathedral, South Bend, IN on 1 January 1993, I was wonderfully surprised to find that the Rev. Dr. Leonel Mitchell, who was then the Professor of Liturgics and Sacramental Theology at Seabury-Western Theological Seminary, Chicago, was an Honorary Canon of the Cathedral and would be retiring within a couple of years and moving back to South Bend.

Dr. Lee Mitchell, 2012

After his retirement, Lee Mitchell did return to a home they already owned in South Bend (he had been on the faculty of the University of Notre Dame for a number of years).  He became an adjunct on my staff, and we became very close friends.  His counsel, advice and creative energy allowed us to do some wonderful liturgical events at the Cathedral.  When I left the cathedral 11 years later, I had become much wiser in crafting liturgy.   It was a very sad moment for me to learn of Lee's death in 2012 during the time I was immobilized after replacement of my right shoulder joint at Mayo.  

The impact of these two priest scholars, and the others I mentioned, upon the modern Church came out of the discovery of a huge number of early Church documents and materials shortly after World War II.  These were the folks who were the designers of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer and our formal move from a medieval piety in the Church to a re-discovery of the joy and life-giving worship of those early centuries after Jesus.

Yesterday, the Gospel narrative included Jesus responding to the Disciples' request, "Teach us to Pray."  Jesus' response was the basis of what we now call "The Lord's Prayer."  It is no doubt the best known and recited prayers in Christendom -- and beyond.   At every liturgy in the Episcopal Church, this prayer is said by the congregation after the Eucharistic Prayer.  It is also said in all of the Daily Offices of the Church.  I have long been concerned as to whether we know what we are really doing when we say this prayer.

The Lord's Prayer, itself, is a model.  Break it down into its components, on one immediately sees a pattern that is universal in its implications for a conversation with God.   This came home to me yesterday, when the Rector of St. Boniface asked a question in his sermon, "Do our prayers shape us; or, do we use prayer to try to shape the world in our image?"

For the past three evenings at home, we have been watching a compilation series from the BBC (on DVD) entitled, "The Barchester Chronicles"  based on the novels of Anthony Trollope.  Trollope wrote in the 19th Century and parodied life in the Church of England during the Victorian Era.

I mention the Trollope stories, because it reminds me so very much of the machinations of both religious and secular organizations to influence culture and manipulate circumstances for their own best interests.  It reminded me that, during our Civil War, people on both sides prayed fervently that God would prevail on their particular side.  Same prayers -- opposing outcomes.  Who is right?

Ultimately, we need to realize that our attempts to change others by our own actions and by believing we have some kind of Divine mandate due to our "prayers" is probably the greatest of all sins....that of hubris...spiritual pride.

In Louis Weil's teaching and Leonel Mitchell's book, it was stressed continuously that the role of community worship is not to manipulate or impose our will upon those gathered, but to create a sustained community that can experience God's love and allow that to work deep within each person...for the sake of wholeness.

In our current milieu, there are politicians, journalists and religious leaders attempting to re-craft culture into a "God-fearing Nation" under a divine law that is mostly a projection of ego and looks very little like anything truly spiritual.  Besides, "God-fearing" is a medieval projection to act as an authoritarian control.  It leaves out "God is Love; and, Perfect Love Casts Out Fear," as well as Jesus' own prayer that "as I have loved you, love one another."  

In my own particular momentary circumstances, which is all for which I have been given ultimate responsibility, being fed up with diabetes and what orbits that condition is not enough in itself.  Trying to shape what my world should look like on a daily basis did not do any good.  When I finally, four weeks ago, simply entered into that silent space and asked what I needed to do to be all that I can be, it came to me that the journey would take a particular course.  I would have what I needed for the journey.  I simply had to take the first step.  All that I have related, the the previous postings, up to now began showing itself.  But, I had my part to do.

Asking and expecting God to cure my diabetes wasn't the route.  Offering the condition and asking what I need to accomplish to bring my health back into balance was the route.  That prayer seems to be shaping my life...on several levels...not just the physical.

Regardless of your tradition or background, how do you pray?  Is it like wielding a hammer; or is it with a desire to be reshaped?

Today's statistics are very interesting to me:

• Weight:  233.6 -- exactly seven pounds lighter than I was when I began Wednesday morning last week.  Pulling glycogen out of those liver and muscle cells.
• Fasting Blood Glucose:  87 -- a new record!  I have not registered a fasting glucose level this low since before I was diagnosed with diabetes.  Yesterday, it was 96.  Normal is 85-100
• Blood Pressure:  130/73 -- still being a booger.  Optimal for me will be 120/70.  This may have something to do with the medication that controls my coronary ectasia.  We'll see.

Food intake is still following the detox phase of purging glycogen stores and resetting my body's metabolic routine.  Just keep watching.

Love and Blessings,

Fred+

A New Journey -- Part 4: The Pork Club

They say every man needs protection

They say that every man must fall

Yet I swear I see my reflection

Somewhere so high above this wall. 

I see my light come shinin'

From the west down to the east

Any day now, any day now

I shall be released.

--Lyrics by Bob Dylan (1967)

--Sung by The Band, 1968 album, Music From Big Pink

U.S. Navy, 1974, On Assignment

When we were preparing to move from Lee's Summit, MO to Sarasota, FL in 2012, we were going through a lot of materials collected over our lifetimes...and those of our two, now adult, daughters.  I found the picture posted to the right.  I was 23 years old and in the U.S. Navy Submarine Corps, Atlantic Fleet.  I was stationed at our advance submarine base at Holy Loch, Scotland -- from early January 1973 to early February 1975 -- and on the staff of Submarine Squadron 14.  

My official work was handling personnel and transportation for the Commodore (senior Captain...not yet an Admiral).  I also had "unofficial duties."  Those adventures and experiences still remain mostly classified.  This picture was taken by a staff colleague as we crossed the Clyde River from Gourock to Dunoon on one of those "adventure" assignments.  Looks casual enough -- exactly as it was supposed to look.  Both my colleague and I looked Scottish, so we could have been young business men.  Note my hair was longer than military standards...for a reason.

I weighed 195 lbs in that photograph.  I remember this, because we had to stay at a certain level of physical readiness -- as well as have a keen alertness and ability to move quickly...very quickly.  So, I carried quite a bit of extra muscle in those days.

After three years of active duty, I began a program of active reserve duty that would allow me to attend a "professional graduate school."  The Navy defined such schools as: "A graduate school of medicine, dentistry, theology or veterinary medicine."  In August 1975, I began graduate studies in theology at Nashotah House Theological Seminary, Wisconsin-- one of the Episcopal Church's seminaries.

My lifestyle changed rather radically, I was either in class, at the library, in the chapel or at my desk in my room.  During those long days, there were meals, snacks and occasional get-togethers (read:  parties or cook-outs).  I began to gain weight, largely due to the shift in activity and the institutional diet high in carbohydrates and sugars.  By the end of my second year of the three year degree program, I had gained 35 lbs.  I do not have a picture of those particular days, but you can guess.  It wasn't muscle (most of the muscle mass I carried on active duty had diminished to that of a fairly sedentary lifestyle).

As we began our final year of academic studies, a group of us decided we were tired of being heavy and out of shape.  Several of us in the group had come out of the military straight into seminary.  Others had come from more active civilian lifestyles.  All of us were unhappy with how we looked and felt.  Bob Dylan's words spoke to us.

After consulting the Dean, we received permission to have the chef in our Refectory prepare special meals for us...along the guidelines of Weight Watchers.  We also made a pact to gather five mornings a week for a 3 mile run around West Nashotah Lake (the seminary sat on two lakes, West and East Nashotah Lakes.  Nashotah is a Menominee word meaning, "twin lakes).

In September 1977, seven of us began this program.  We wanted to support each other, and the Dean said he would permit the special meals as long as we were enrolled in a program.  We chose Weight Watchers, because there was a group that met fairly close to the seminary, in Oconomowoc, and we could do our weekly weigh-in on Friday evenings.

It was a hoot!  We ate our meals together and placed a sign in the middle of a table in the Refectory we had designated as "our spot."  The sign in the middle of the table simply read, The Pork Club:  Meeting Thrice Daily by Invitation.  Funny, no one seemed to want to sit with us.  

Tuesday through Saturday mornings, we gathered near the cemetery at the west end of the seminary property...along Mission Road...and, like a troop of recruits, we jogged around the lake.  First it was a slow pace.  We had gotten seriously out of shape over two years.  It gets cold early in Wisconsin.  As the ice and snow began, our running shoes could not well handle the icy roads.  A former Marine member of our group decided we should wear strap-on cleats.  This worked okay, but, as one professor told us (who lived near the lake), "You guys sound like the German Gestapo double-timing when you go by my house."  We tended to get into a cadenced rhythm, and the crack of the cleats on the icy surface did make a snappy racket.

The other bit of fun we had was at the Friday evening "weigh-in."  Seven of us relatively tall guys would enter the Weight Watchers building in the shopping plaza at 7:00pm.  Also in attendance were probably 25 folks -- a number of them being older women (50 and older...please remember we were in our mid twenties...The oldest of us being 29).  Every one of us would lose between 2.5 and 4 lbs each week...without fail.  We would proceed to high five one another, give some jaunty words of "attaboy" and then (almost with one voice) call out, "Off to Pizza Hut for cheat night."  We would leave about 25 folks looking after us with faces reflecting everything from jealous admiration to downright contempt.  

At the end of May 1978, we graduated with our Master's Degrees in Theology (M.Div.--a professional degree).  I was 35 lbs lighter...exactly what I was when I entered seminary three years earlier.  All but one of us achieved very similar results.  The Pork Club Rules!!

Ordination as a Priest 12/29/1978

By the time I was ordained a priest (December 1978), I weighed 190 lbs.  It was lower than my active military weight by five pounds, but I was also carrying less muscle.  I had substituted my military workout with a daily yoga/floor exercise routine and 5-8 mile run (5x/week).  My ordination photo appears at the left.

My best "fighting weight" as an older adult is 215 lbs.  It seems to be where I end up with a combination of cardio exercise and weight bearing exercise.  The time between December 2012 and April of this year (2013) have been tough.  Two major surgeries and literal immobilization for about five months in 2012 and foot surgery in February of this year kept me out of the gym.  My road running days are over -- blowouts on both knees and arthroscopic surgeries in 1996 and 2000.  Over the past year, I gained 18 lbs with relative inactivity.  

As I engage this new lifestyle "conversation" with diabetes, I am also cleared to re-engage my former level of physical fitness -- with modifications to protect my prosthetic right shoulder.  This has been a good first week.

Today's numbers (7/27/13):

• Weight -- 235.4 (total of 5.2 lbs lost in three days...whacking those glycogen stores)
• Blood Pressure -- 124/72
• Fasting Blood Glucose -- 101 (this, with weight, is the critical number.  Remember, I averaged 128.  That range was 123 to 135.  Two days at 99 and 101 consecutively is great news).
• Pedometer readings (new) -- on 7/26 -- 6,034 steps, covering 2.97 miles, burning 2,380 calories.

Love and Blessings!

Fred+

A New Journey -- Part 3: Assimilation

"Behold what you are; become what you receive."

-- St. Augustine of Hippo (born 354 CE, died 430 CE)

 Bishop of Hippo Regius, Numidia (modern Annaba, Algeria)

The leading quote for this reflection comes from one of the best known of the scholars of the Patristic Period of the Christian Church's life.  This is roughly the first five hundred years of Christianity that followed the New Testament Period (roughly the first century).  This time frame included the six Ecumenical Councils that shaped the theological foundations of what we now know as "the Christian Faith."  We have morphed quite a lot since that period, but the marriage of experiences of God in Jesus with Greek philosophical structures provided the vehicle we call "systematic theology."  The Patristic scholars gave the Church a formulary for putting experience into a language that would have consistency.

This is not a theology reflection per se; nor is it a history lesson.  There are elements of both in most things I write.  This blog post is actually about eating.  The title is something of a double entendre.  Assimilation:

1.  To take in or incorporate as one's own (i.e. to absorb)

2.  To bring into conformity -- as with customs or attitudes

Food and eating are fundamental to sustaining life.  There is nothing special about that.  All living organisms have to take in a form of sustenance in order to survive/thrive.  It is a combination of nutrients and water.  I remember the first "food lecture" I had as a child, because our teacher compared our bodies to an engine.  "Food is fuel...it makes your body work like an engine."  Hey, this was the 1950s, and the analogy worked for a second grader.  I even remember our teacher, Mrs. Goodrich, drawing on the chalk board as she explained the principles of food.  

While eating is fundamental, our comprehension of metabolic activity has not been so great.  It has been not so much evolutionary as it has been a type of morphology.  The form, structure and transformation of foods, cultural "tastes" and intake capabilities of what we eat and how we eat it is my concern here.

I have already provided a lot of statistics about Diabetes and other disorders that are growing crises in not only our culture but in most "modern" world societies.

I have also used the Native American people as an example of modern diet and its affects (and effects).  Here is a direct story from a conversation in June.

1.  Daryl No Heart.  17 June 2013.  Daryl is  a 67 year old Lakota man, who is an artist, teacher and spiritual leader in the Lakota Nation.  Like most Lakota males, he is tall, affable and strongly built.  His family name, No Heart, comes from his great, great grandfather, who literally froze to death in a blizzard and, as he was being prepared for burial, resuscitated...recounting a near death experience.  In Lakota language, one who has died but returns has spent time in the place of "no heart" (i.e. no beating heart).  He was given that name.

Daryl and I had a two hour conversation about Lakota spiritual traditions and the contemporary life of the Lakota people on a rainy afternoon, 17 June, sitting at his dining table over coffee.  During that special time of revelation (for me), Daryl began to speak of food.  The leading cause of death among the Lakota people is a combination of heart disease and diabetes.  Prior to 1900, there was no evidence of either condition leading to deaths among the Lakota.  Daryl's words (slightly paraphrased due to note-taking):  When our people lived on the plains and hunted the buffalo, 60% of our diet was from the buffalo and other game (deer and elk mostly).  The rest came from berries, root vegetables and a variety of naturally growing fruits.  When the reservation sequestration began, our diet became what was given to us by the US government and other agencies...essentially a western European diet heavy in carbohydrates, grains and sugars.  In our restriction, we could no longer be active in our traditional way.  We got fat, like our overseers...and we began dying younger. 

Then he said the most important thing:  When we could eat in a sacred manner...what Wakan Tanka (God) provided us, we were healthy.  We were conscious of the sacredness of our food.  Western food had no sacred depth.  It helped break the Great Hoop.

Here is one more reflection from a conversation just a week ago:

3.  David Goodrich.  19 July 2013.  David is 85 yrs old, a retired psychologist and neuro-science specialist.  I got to know him through St. Boniface Episcopal Church, where we both worship.  He still does work with local neuro-science specialists at Roskamp Institute here in Sarasota.  We generally have breakfast together with a group on Friday mornings.  A week ago, as we sat together at breakfast, he had this to say:  Did you know that one slice of whole wheat bread affects the same center in your brain that responds to cocaine and heroin?  One can become addicted to the ingredients in bread to the same extent as addiction to drugs or alcohol.  Did you know that you could eat two of the large Snicker bars and get less sugar load in the blood stream than eating one slice of standard whole wheat bread.  It seems to me that our pattern of assimilating food into our bodies has created a food processing industry that is ultimately attuned to having us addicted to the point that we simply must have what our bodies do not need.  And they say GMO is not a crime.  We don't need street drugs.  Just go buy a loaf of bread.  There is no longer a spirituality that balances who we are with what we assimilate into our bodies.

These conversations were unsolicited and not, in any way, related to my decision to embark on a new journey.  These conversations were "gifts along the way" from men of two very distinct ethnicities living in two very different parts of the country.  And, I was actually looking for other information.

As early as the fourth century, we hear about food as a sacred part of our lives.  Augustine understood it deeply enough to incorporate into his teaching about the Eucharist in Christian tradition.  Assimilating--absorbing into our being--the character of Jesus.

In 1863, Ludwig Feuerback said, "man is what he eats," in his book, Concerning Spiritualism and Materialism.  He basically sacramentalized food in his work.

Victor Lindlahr, in 1942, published, You Are What You Eat: how to win and keep health with diet.  He was a researcher ahead of his time.

Daryl and David speak of dietary food as being taken in "in a sacred manner."  This is to say that what we eat does more than drive our metabolism.  Food becomes part of our being and wholeness.  What cultures have largely done in our time is to "conform" themselves to attitudes and behaviors that feel good, because of taste, emotional and physical appeal and, most of all, because we crave what has become addictive.  Manufacturers will produce it, because it sells.  And, even though we are getting sicker -- literally -- we must have what everyone else is having, and manufacturers tell us is just so good for us.  In this regard, we are assimilating ourselves to death.

For me, it is a mold out of which I am working to break myself.  This journey, for me, is not just "another crazy fad."  It is literally about life, wellness and wholeness.  If the body is the temple of the Spirit, why treat it like an outhouse?  It's that fundamental.

Food can be sacred.  Eating can be sacred.  Having a relationship with our environment that honors what it provides and functions to keep that environment sacred in itself, is truly what we are placed here to do.  We are the stewards of creation.  I think we have forgotten this.

My statistics this morning:  Weight -- 236.4.  Blood Pressure -- 122/69.  Fasting Glucose -- 99.  The last number is critical.  It is the first time in three years of having diabetes that my fasting blood glucose has been under 100.  It has averaged 128.  Normal is 85-100.  Just keep watching.  Something is shifting.

Love and Blessings,

Fred+

A New Journey -- Part 2: The First 24

"You know I'm free, free now baby
I'm free from your spell
Oh I'm free, free, free now
I'm free from your spell
And now that it's all over
All I can do is wish you well"

-- "The Thrill is Gone," Lyrics by Roy Hawkins & Rick Darnell, 1951

--Sung by B.B. King, 1969 album, "Completely Well"

Addiction

I stopped smoking cigarettes on Ash Wednesday, 1979.  I began smoking during the fall quarter of my junior year at The University of Florida.  I was about to take my first ever oral exam in an embryology course lab section.  I was going to be identifying microscope slide specimens.  One of my dorm suite mates smoked, and, for whatever reason, I bummed one of his non-filtered Camel cigarettes.  'Just one,' I thought -- you know, they say it calms the nerves.  I sure got a rush!  Within two weeks, I was smoking about 10 cigarettes a day; but I switched to filtered Camels.  A little healthier, right?  Mindset is all relative.  

At the height of the nine years of cigarette addiction, I smoked about a pack daily.  I was also running 5 to 8 miles, five days a week.  Now, one would think enough sense could be had to see that these two activities do not go well together.  Again, mindset is relative.  Science and religion are a lot alike that way:  1) We can read and research the same material, yet come up with different conclusions; 2) We can always find data and material to justify the way we want to think or believe; 3) If we are really uncomfortable with what we find, we can ignore it or go into a place of denial.  Regarding my smoking addiction, I was pretty much in the #3 camp.  I already knew this was an unhealthy habit.  I justified its continuance, because I actually could run 5-8 miles daily without any (seeming) problem.

There was a kicker here.  One day each week, I ran with my primary care physician.  He was about five years older than me (at this time I was not yet 29 years old).  He could observe things that I denied.  Also, over the three, or so, years prior to this, I had suffered numerous bouts of bronchial pneumonia.  It was after one of those episodes that Dr. Hrnicek and I were running one Friday afternoon.  He had treated two episodes of bronchial pneumonia since becoming his patient in July 1978 (I was newly ordained and the Associate at Christ Church, Springfield, MO.  Dr. Hrnicek was a parishioner).  He simply said to me, "You know, if you don't quit smoking I just might be attending your funeral before you finish your time at Christ Church."

A week later, we made a pact.  I would stop smoking on Ash Wednesday.  If I could remain cigarette free through Easter the following year (1980), he would treat me to the best dinner at a place of my choosing.  If I lost, the dinner was on me.  

The first days of not smoking were problematic.  Headaches, nervous sensations, a kind of listlessness and unspecified crankiness ran through the first week or so.  Somewhere after that, those experiences ceased altogether, and I did not want to smoke.  The only time in the 34 years I have tried it again was after our mom's death in 1987.  It made me sick.  It was  very short-lived.  Oh, and I got that dinner promised by Dr. Hrnicek in late spring 1980.

Genetics

I made some statements in yesterday's blog posting about the genetics of both diabetes and celiac disease.  Both are, in origin, genetic disorders.  Some folks questioned my use of "intolerance" in speaking of response to wheat and other grains.  

First, I am not a geneticist.  I have done a great deal of reading in ancestral genetics over the past decade or so.  I have also researched a lot about diabetes in general and specifically with Type II Diabetes (there is a difference).  All of my research comes from the National Institute of Health, the Harvard Institute of Public Health, Mayo Clinic and Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine (Research).  I am not big on self-help material -- unless they are referenced by studies as viable options for sustained lifestyle.  Fads are not good for one's health.

Second, if one has a gene that will trigger a certain condition, it will be something either in the environment or in diet that will "push" that gene into activation.  Example:  Most Native Americans have a gene that will activate Type II Diabetes.  It was not until their diet radically shifted that the affects of that genetic predisposition were activated.  Boom....diabetes.  The same is true for celiac or other disorders.  Identical twins can carry the same gene marker, one will develop symptoms and the other never will.  

Third, in 1900, diabetes of both types was diagnosed and treated in only about 3% of the American population.  In 2010, 33% of the general American population was being treated for both types of diabetes.  The National Institute of Health estimates that this could grow to nearly 50% of the population by 2025!   None of those folks simply "got" or "caught" diabetes.  The gene has been there for a very long time in human history.  The same is true for most of our disorders.

A side note:  Whatever predisposed the genetic disorder of coronary ectasia (I mentioned this yesterday...it is a heart condition that I have), it was there from my birth.  It is quite likely the reason that I could not run track successfully in high school.  Coach Bill Duncan, at Winter Haven High School, would yell and scream at me to "speed up" and "beat the clock."  I was a "horse" in his words.  I could run long and steady.  When I ran fast, I hit the wall soon and would drop back to a slower pace.  It was not until 1995, that the genetic disorder truly showed itself with heart attack-like symptoms.  Go figure.  Until my knees began to be problematic, I could run a 9 minute mile for 12 to 15 miles.  It's all about how to live with what you got.

Today

I just completed the first 24 hours of this radical shift in lifestyle that I shared in Part 1.  To answer a couple of questions:

1)  No, I am not on a "starvation" diet.  Think of it as an elimination diet...the kind one uses to determine food allergies.  I have dropped all grains and foods containing extracts of grains.  I have ceased consuming all sugars and foods containing sugar or sugar substitutes.  I have limited vegetables to a narrow range that are low on the glycemic index.  I am eating six ounces of protein at each of three meals.  I am eating two "snack bags" -- one in the morning and one in the afternoon -- containing a mix of raw almonds and walnuts (ten of each).  I can drink coffee or black/green tea (no flavored teas).  I can drink club soda.

2)  Yes, everything containing anything I mentioned above is gone from the house.  We do have a few items that will be added after the detox phase.  

3)  I am not hungry much...just when it seems to be time to eat the next meal.  Breakfast today was satisfying:  Okinawa fish soup, which I made from scratch in the crock pot yesterday -- enough for about two meals each for the two of us.  Last night, we had baked salmon and a salad with mixed greens, tomato, onion and bell pepper...with an olive oil/balsamic vinegar dressing.  Filled me up.  Cravings:  I have a low-grade headache today...a symptom of systemic addiction to sugar (grain products/carbohydrates are metabolized as sugars).  I dropped by the grocery store yesterday afternoon to get the fresh fish for the Okinawa soup.  I purposely walked down the cookie, baked goods and chip aisles.  Yep, I did find myself really wanting something.  Nope I didn't get anything. I am not of the mind that one needs to avoid being around that stuff.  For me, it simply drills down on my resolve.

3)  How will I know when the detox phase is complete?  I must have three straight days of fasting blood sugar below 100.  To get the most reliable metabolic data, I have to do three things when I arise in the morning:  weight, blood pressure and fasting glucose (blood sugar).  So, I get up, take my blood pressure, hit the scale and pad downstairs with the dog.  I put the coffee on, take the dog out and, immediately after bringing her in, I do the "diabetic stick routine" -- it's a monitor kit about the size of a wallet that I keep in the kitchen, or in my briefcase when I travel.

Today's numbers:  Weight 237.6.  Blood Pressure 126/72.  Blood Glucose 122.  Compare this with yesterday at weight 240.6.  Blood Pressure 134/82.  Blood Glucose 123.

Weight change means I am burning stored glycogen.  Less internal pressure.  Blood Glucose change means I am moving less glucose through my system.  Something is working here.  Just keep watching.

Love and Blessings,

Fred+

A New Journey: Part 1 -- Background

"I pulled in to Nazareth; I was feelin' about a half past dead."

-- The Band ("The Weight," or "Take a Load off Annie)

from the album "Stage Fright"

I have Type II Diabetes.  That's the raw fact.  I was diagnosed with this condition officially in May 2010.  It was not a total surprise to me.  In 2007, my cardiologist was stunned to find that my triglycerides were at nearly 900 and my cholesterol was getting close to 400.  These are wicked numbers.  My doc and I were both shocked into silence.

"Do you know how much sugar and fats you would have to consume to get to this point?" he finally asked.  I had no idea.  Turns out, I would have had to be a total "RC Cola and Moon Pie" addict with a constant intake of Original Recipe of Kentucky Fried Chicken to get those numbers. Since I worked out fairly regularly and weighed about 230 lbs, the numbers did not make much sense.  

Yep, I was overweight, but I am a big guy at 6'3" tall with a "big boned" build.  I also carry a bit of muscle -- due to both exercise and activity choices.  Yet, here I was.  Short version:  I worked for three years to get those numbers down.  I am resistant (allergic) to statin drugs, so a formula of pharmaceutical grade niacin, omega 3s and a non-statin drug (Niaspan, Lovaza and Fenofibrate respectively) was finally attained that helped bring those numbers into some place of at least borderline normal -- still higher than desired.

One further back event helped start this journey.  In January 1995, I collapsed in chest pain one day at the cathedral, where I was the Dean.  A cardiac catheterization procedure found that I have a fairly rare and unusual coronary construction.  It is genetic.  The coronary arteries are 2.5x larger than normal; and the inner walls of the arteries are wavy instead of straight and smooth.  It is called Coronary Ectasia.  Cardiac medicine has only come to grips with this condition since the 1980s.  It may have contributed to my father's untimely death at age 54 (in 1968).  This is controlled by medication that "tenses" the arteries and makes them more efficient.  The medication creates a problem with high blood pressure, so it is joined with a medication to deal with that.  I have almost no plaque in my coronary arteries.  I started this trip of strange eruptions 18 years ago.

Diabetes also runs in our family.  My maternal grandfather was diagnosed with Type II Diabetes when he was 56 and had a sudden heart attack.  He lived to age 82 by taking care of himself and remaining active.  He is the one who was an entomologist/naturalist who taught me to hunt, fish and navigate by celestial orientation.

In short, when my diagnosis of Type II Diabetes was announced, I was not surprised.  However, I was both disappointed and very concerned about how things might go forward.

Some folks, who know me, are aware that I don't sit around worrying about this kind of stuff very much at all.  In fact, I have been called "cavalier" by close in family members, when it comes to appropriate life adjustments.  

Then, something changed.

While I was in the Black Hills of South Dakota for two weeks in June, I was suddenly struck with the reality that I live on a lot of medications -- a lot for me, at least.  In my work with the Lakota people, I have become extremely sensitive to their evolutionary plight.  First Nations people had almost no incidents of heart disease or diabetes in their lives -- until after 1900.  

What changed?  It was their diet.  It went from one of largely protein supplemented by berries, fruits and various kinds of vegetables.  The only sugar came from those sources.  The only "grains" consumed were "seed sourced" and natural to their environment.

Fact:  Among the Lakota people, the leading cause of illness and death at present are diabetes and coronary disease -- in that order.  When they were forced into reservations and forced to consume a western European (read:  Immigrant American) diet, their bodies got sick.  

What has happened to us immigrant Americans?  Since the early 1900s, our diet has steadily increased in carbohydrate and sugar consumption.  Those food sources now comprise better than 70% of our diet.  

I did an informal Facebook study of what friends post concerning foods, recipes and prepared dishes over the past six months.  Ready?  Eighty-five percent of the postings were desserts or foods consisting of refined flour, simple carbohydrates and sugars of several varieties.  I am not astounded by this.  It is reflective of the typical American diet at large.  While in South Dakota, all this hit me in a very big way, because I had time to reflect and was asking for insights.

Michial Seamus

Yep, he is Irish -- born and raised in Belfast, Northern Ireland.  He was a Roman Catholic seminarian when the "unpleasantness" erupted in that country.  He ended up leaving his homeland and found his way to the United States, where he became a citizen about 25 years ago.  He settled in Sarasota and owns a small construction company.

Five years ago, he was told he needed a hip replacement.  However, he flunked the pre-op cardiac EKG.  He was sent immediately to a cardiologist, where he flunked the more comprehensive stress EKG testing.  Turns out, he had a badly blocked descending aortic coronary artery:  the one known as the "widow maker."  He was literally days or weeks from a massive, fatal heart attack.

While in the hospital recovering from the stent procedure to save his life, he learned he had Type II Diabetes in an advanced form.  He was placed on insulin right away.  His blood pressure was way too high.  More medication.  At the end of his recovery process -- when he finally got his new hip -- he was on seven medications.

Michial's wife has severe Celiac Disease.  This is also a "modern" condition where the body builds an intolerance to foods containing gluten (most modern grains are very high in gluten).  Michial became very despondent in this newly diagnosed conditions (he had not been to a doctor in about a decade prior to the orthopedic surgeon).  Not being one to sit long in despondency, he took a break from his work and began doing intensive research.  He spent time at NIH and at the Harvard Institute of Public Health.  He consulted all manner of medical practitioners.  He determined that what he was eating was killing him.  (Note:  his cardiologist told him he probably had only about five to seven years of life left).  

Mic got radical.  He removed all grain products and foods containing wheat, corn or barley from his diet.  He removed all foods that contained any kind of sugar and limited his sugar intake to whole fruits and certain root vegetables in moderation.  The only natural sweetener he used was a tablespoon (total) of raw, unprocessed honey in his tea.  He removed all milk products, except heavy whipping cream (has no sugar, believe it or not), butter from grass-fed cattle and natural cheese (no processed brands).  He boosted his protein intake to about 65% of total daily intake -- protein from only fresh or frozen meats (preferably organic), poultry and fish.

Mic did this three years ago.  Today, he is 45 lbs lighter.  His blood pressure is textbook.  He no longer uses insulin, and his fasting glucose is stable at 5.0% (textbook).  His blood chemistry is all totally within normal range.  His cardiologist recently told him she changed her mind.  She thinks he could live well into his 90s.  The only medication he currently takes is the ONE pill that "keeps his coronary stent clean."  His diet?  More like the Native American diet prior to westernization.

Collision

I had long since grown weary of reading about the latest pill, formula, process or routine that would guarantee a "diabetes cure."  ALL of that is crap!  Diabetes is not curable.  Diabetes can, however, be controlled to the point that it is in a kind of remission.  I also had gotten weary of people who claim they can help -- but at a rather steep and constant price.  I do not want my health to be their living.  This is not to say that nutritionists and health counselors are not useful.  Lots of folks need that kind of accountability -- paying for someone to guide them.  I have never worked well with that kind of accountability relationship.  So, I was stuck.

Then I met Michial.  Just happened that my annual physical was scheduled for the day after my return from South Dakota.  I poured all my thoughts and concerns out to my primary care physician.  He is a 40ish guy who keeps up with research, is extremely attentive to detail and is not afraid to consider treatments that are beyond "allopathic boundaries."  

My doc knew that I was not happy with the diabetes folks I had consulted shortly after arriving here.  It was the same old routine, and it simply meant, "stay on your medicine; eat this way to maintain yourself."  He is the one that suggested the support group that Michial leads.

I went to meet Michial and learned of his journey.  It requires a radical lifestyle change.  He likens it to being an alcoholic:  Once you start the journey, there is no going back.  Going back means a return to the condition you are leaving.  This shift begins with a detoxification process.  It is ten days long, and I began this journey today, 24 July 2013.

Stripped Clean

Yesterday, Denise and I "cleaned house."  We removed every food that listed sugar in its ingredients.  We removed all pastas and wheat products.  In fact, all grain products except old fashioned oats.  All processed meats and cheeses are gone.  We ended up with four and a half large grocery bags -- heavy with boxes, cans, bottles and packages.  The garbage sack got filled as well...before the garbage man came yesterday afternoon.  All of it now gone from this house.  We are done with it.

This morning, I rolled out of bed at 6:00 am and began a new way of living and eating.  This first ten days is like an elimination diet....only certain things will be eaten...and in certain quantities.  No fruits (except a few blueberries).  No vegetables outside of a small prescribed selection that creates either a soup or a salad.  Fresh protein sources, eggs and one kind of cheese will be allowed.

My blog will be a journal for the coming days...during the detox.   I awoke this morning and took the first measurements:  Fasting Glucose = 123.  Blood Pressure 134/82.  Weight 240.6 lbs.  All high.  Just watch this space.  Just watch.

Love and Blessings,

Fred+

Neighbor

"Christians vary greatly in their understanding of the truth.  Some have a deep appreciation of our faith, while others still are shallow in their faith.  But it is the same ocean into which they are peering; the same truth which they are seeking to comprehend.  It was in order to reach people at every level that our Lord spoke in parables.  Those with less understanding could enjoy the parables as simple stories with moral lessons which they could learn; while those with deeper faith could penetrate the divine mysteries with these tales and images."  -- Against Heresies,   Irenaeus (born ca. 160CE, died 202CE), Bishop of Lyons

On Sunday, 14 July, Christians in several denominations heard the same Gospel narrative proclaimed in their worship communities.  Luke 10:25-37 is known as the "Parable of the Good Samaritan."  This blog post is not yet another sermon on what was probably heard in thousands of faith communities.  Nor, is this a reflection simply within the Christian tradition.  It is a universal question that was asked by the lawyer -- a specialist in Mosaic Law not further identified:  Who is my neighbor?

This question, in the context of the narrative, is designed to "catch Jesus out."  Jesus was not a mainline Jewish leader.  His message was radical and controversial within his own tradition.  Members of the Sanhedrin....Pharisees, Sadducees and Scribes...were regularly monitoring Jesus and working to get him entrapped in his own words.  This was no exception.  Jesus pushed the envelope regarding the boundaries of Judaism -- who is in and who is out.  

Until the modern era, societies were very fluid.  Boundaries were open and travel between cultural groups was both regular and not monitored.  However, within the Hebrew culture there was a defined boundary regarding who belonged in terms of the customs and traditions of that community.  Outsiders were welcomed only as far as the mutual commerce of the nation.  This appears to be true even during the occupation by the Roman Empire.

Jews had a specific cultural ban on Samaritans.  Samaritans were the remnants of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, who had defied religious authority and set up their own temple at Mt. Gerizim.  They were considered unclean and no longer part of the Jewish People.  The hatred, on the part of Judaism was both legendary and proverbial.  This is a set-up in terms of how Jesus utilized the parable of the Samaritan who provided aid to a beaten traveler found alongside the road.

In the parable, two other notable folks passed by the injured and dying man on the roadside:  A priest and a Levite.  At the time of Jesus, a priest (in the Jewish tradition) kept the Temple and presided at the most sacred of sacrificial and ritual ceremonies.  The Levites were a part of the nation from whom priests were chosen and who, themselves, kept the ritual elements of the Temple in order on a daily basis.  These two groups of Jews not only knew the Law but embodied the whole Jewish concept of the Shema:  The Great Commandment --- Loving God supremely and Loving Neighbor as one loves one's self.  Moreover, these people would harbor within their own lives the abundance of both Grace and Service.  Jesus was nailing the lawyer with his parable in Luke 10:25-37.

This story has far-reaching implications.  The Christian community was established with Baptism being the foundational sacrament of incorporation.  In this rite, one is given the Grace (abiding Love of God) in the Holy Spirit.  One is, essentially, "in-Christed."  This is my term for being made one in Christ Jesus forever (and so the concluding baptismal prayer states).

Okay, so what is the point?  If we operate with the promised gift of Grace as central to our character, the Great Commandment becomes the grounding of our moral conduct...our very character.  The lawyer in Luke's parable seems to be saying, "yes, I get that," when Jesus asks for his recitation of what is written in the Law.  The sticking point is this business of who is one's neighbor.

Here are two theological truths that I have come to embrace:

1.  Sin is a self-inflicted wound.
2.  The Devil is a method the ego has of discharging responsibility and ownership of sin.

Like many folks, I long ago burned out on clergy types railing from pulpits and other places with rhetoric designed to inflict both guilt and blame on congregations/audiences...slinging the word "sin" around as a scythe.  Indeed, sin is real.  However, it is not a thing in and of itself -- waiting to pounce on us.  Sin is an action or intention on the part of an individual that detaches us from our innermost moral character (summarized in the Great Commandment) and sets the ego as the central place of control.  The word "I" is paramount here.  Sin is willfulness...an act of internal separation from the True Self.

We have, from the moment of being infused (read: created in the image of) with Divine Consciousness (True Self) believed that taking personal control of our environment makes us more powerful.  History is replete with how this works, and Jesus used the actions of the priest and Levite to make this very point.

Truth:  The control on the part of our ego actually makes us smaller and less powerful.  It is finite and actually seems to dissolve in death.  

Oh, the Devil.  There is a corporeal evil.  It is the dark side of the Light.  It is the gathering of what comes of rebellious detachment into a force that seeks both control and manipulation.  Nazi Germany, the Soviet pogroms, all genocides and congregated acts of greed, manipulation and fear-mongering are examples of corporeal evil.  Such "collective ego" lives on in each of us as part of every choice we make.

This started early on.  The garden narrative in the Old Testament creation story plays this out.  When Adam (re: man) eats of the fruit offered by Eve (re: companion)...a fruit forbidden, because it sets up willfulness as an internal default, the Holy One asks Adam what he has done.  Adam blames it on Eve (denial in the face of Truth is a classic ego response).  Eve, in turn, blames it on the serpent who "beguiled" her (again, denial).  The poor snake is forever given the position of "devil" in human culture.  Why?  The snake couldn't respond.  It is an icon of the sneaky kind of internal "nudging" that can elicit willful behavior that detaches us from True Self and Abiding Love.  It is, as I said, a self-inflicted wound (small "s" self is ego structure).

So, the priest and Levite can't be bothered with a petty, poor, naked, half-dead traveler on the road.  "It's not my problem."  

The Samaritan, who isn't supposed to have a clean moral character, chooses to turn aside and give aid to the nearly dead traveler.  His inner compass had a truer heading.

So, if Jesus can tell the elite of his culture that they are fundamentally "looking good on the outside but are like stinking tombs on the inside" (an accusation he later made re the Sanhedrin), what can be said about our culture?

The answer to that, in the words of The Rev. Dr. Robert M. Cooper -- our seminary ethics and moral theology professor -- is:  "It depends always on whose ox is getting gored..."

There is no good side or bad side in this business.  On the socio-political scale, my sense is:  the farther toward either extreme one goes, the more willful one becomes.  "My way is not only the right way, but it is the only way" becomes our rally cry.  Extremists are most often the collecting force for what becomes corporeal evil in any society.  We see it in individual acts of terrorism (the horrific mass shootings in public locations).  We see it in systems that hold society hostage for the will of a few...or a select...or those of a single, rigid mindset.  We see it in any kind of racism or marginalization of groups or persons different than the rest of us...the rest of us being an established, self-embraced ethnic group.

I think Jesus would have a lot to say to us in person these days.  Not very many of us would like it, and all of us, at some level, would be very, very uncomfortable.  Or, we would simply choose not to listen.  Ah, choice...we fight and die for the freedom of choice...but we abuse it and die defending our right to choose badly.

On which side of the road do we choose to pass by in this life?   Love your neighbor means every other living thing.

Love and Blessings,

Fred+

A Couple of Changes

I began blogging in early 2009, when I was still Rector of St. Andrew's Episcopal Church in Kansas City, MO.  My clergy team thought it would be a good way to provide additional depth to our communication with the congregation...as well as extend ourselves "beyond our walls."  I heartily agreed.

The material I was transmitting at the outset was "train of thought" reflections on life in the Church and its impact on our surrounding culture.  Life in the Church is like a tide.  Going out, there is something of the shoreline contained in the waters.  Coming in, there is something of the ocean depths that arrives near/on the shore.  As much as I shared of the Church's perspective on life in surrounding culture, so the culture impacted the Church...mostly through the gathering community. There is always a fluid and dynamic boundary and relationship.

Upon retirement on 30 June 2011, my focus obviously changed.  It took me some time to adapt to the shift.  Since I have never removed any of the blogs, one might see how retirement shifted my presentation.  My posts are not as regular, and my field of reflection has expanded considerably.   I am a priest, and that is an inextricable part of who I am.  It will always be.

However, I am also a person deeply interested in the world around me.  Had I not become a priest, I might have easily become a medical specialist of some kind (I was on a path to becoming a doctor), an anthropologist, a clinical psychologist or in some non-medical biological field.  My deep interest in those disciplines, and in history itself, never waned.  In retirement, I read a great deal in those areas.  Because being a theologian requires a fundamental grasp of philosophical disciplines, my reflections run in that vein....the hows and wherefores of who and what we are as created beings.

Because my work in the Episcopal Church is no longer structured by the disciplines of daily parochial life, I am freer to reflect more broadly and with greater personal conviction.  In essence, I no longer have to be as concerned about how my parishioners may react or respond to what I have to say.  It is a sad shame that theologically trained persons have to be tempered by the socio-political climates of their parishes.  Jesus certainly set no such limitations (nor did he practice them in his discourses).  Upon deeper reflection, being "politically correct" and "theologically narrow" created for me a deep frustration.  My primary goal in parish ministry was to maintain a balanced community that was, at one time, both diverse and interactive in that diversity.  I was largely successful.  The price I paid was, for the most part, personal.  I kept my own counsel on many issues -- sharing them only with my bishops or spiritual directors.  Twice, when I stepped into personal conviction, I ended up feeling the "lash of intolerance" and the resulting attempts to marginalize both my parochial authority and leadership.  This is not unique to me but happens to a vast majority of ordained priests in the Episcopal Church....unless one is purposefully seeking to monochromize the parish (i.e. create the parish in one's own image or become a complete chameleon in an already monochrome setting...both of which are contributing reasons for the decreasing numbers).

In now being free of the above circumstances, I am less constrained in sharing how I see spirituality and culture interfacing at any given moment.   And, yes, that interface shifts...just like the shoreline I mentioned above.  Therefore, this blog reflects more of what is happening "now" --- as in this moment of writing.  These words will be those of one who is moving through and engaging the world on a variety of levels.  There are family and friends who have determined for themselves the "groove" in which I find habitation.  Family and friends have friends who talk; and the words that come back are not always flattering.  Human nature seems to demand that everything be categorized or placed in readily identifiable containers.  It sucks, but I can't change it...other than to say to everyone in general:  I am probably not where you think I am on whatever scale or categorization you are using.  I read stuff and engage folks on a lot of levels, because that's what I believe means the most...and I shift as I experience and learn.

This upgraded blog "Reflections on the Journey" will continue to not be a "one trick pony."  I own what I write; however, what I write today may be at variance with what I wrote a month ago.  I am not fickle.  It means I have learned something new, factored it into my experiences and made a shift in my sitz im leben  (seat in life).

The artwork applied to this blog is courtesy of artists who wish to remain anonymous but are public  in their presentations.  Both relate to psychological and Native American expressions.  I am a Jungian psychologist (undergraduate studies and graduate level work) and apply stories of psyche to art.  That is the bear that now appears as the frontpiece title background.  The bison (aka buffalo) is Tatanka in the Lakota language and represents the majesty and power of those people...and of most Plains First Nations.

I look forward to continuing to share my experiences and always invite reflective responses.  Please, this is not Fox News, MSNBC or CNN.  No nastiness or bullshit is either necessary or welcome.

Love and Blessings,

Fred+