Responses to the question, "Where was your god . . . "

I spend too much time in discussions on Christianity. Sometimes I write too much and sometimes I think it may be helpful to keep that stuff--it didn't do any good where it was posted. There are so many in this world who now hate Christianity and badger and berate all Christians. I completely identify with what they are saying considering what "Christians" proclaim quite loudly and most often wrongly. You'll have to assume the questions that spawned the essays because I can't, of course, copy the words of those I responded to.

I. In Haiti--in such a quick disaster--it is difficult to know what prayers God answered or what lives were saved or what will be for those who died in those awful minutes and those who suffered beneath the rubble for days but were never found. We believe that there is life after death--that life is eternal or we are already dead in the here and now. That what Jesus teaches us. I believe that eventually we will all come to God--rejoin our maker in the way God has planned--and this life with its miseries and sufferings and the difficulties we've surmounted will some how play into that other life. But I also believe that in the love that is shown, in the love of the people who are struggling in the aftermath of this disaster some of the greatest spiritual growth will occur--it is our human nature. But some will be angry, too.

The greater question may be why create the trouble in the first place? What is our purpose? Why do we suffer? Why do we hunger, thirst, go naked, get sick, have injustices done to us, work our lives away, suffer earthquakes, fires, floods and storms? We don't have those answers. We are so often wounded in the heart. But it seems to be a part of the creation. We aren't in paradise, we are on earth. There are myths that explain this stuff but some of us don't take them literally as in that is exactly how it happened even if we see that some purpose or thing we should understand is worked into the myth. Some would say, "So we will know our need of God." And some note that God does comfort us through our trials. For those of faith, we often see many small miracles--but we can't convince those who have no faith.

So, we come to the question that really matters: what is the nature of God--the Creator. And we can't answer that either. Some of us believe or sense that God is in all things and is everywhere--God is spirit. When Jesus entered Jerusalem the very rocks would cry aloud.

Does God speak to us? Yes, in the silence of our hearts, God speaks. God does guide and God does, through faith, help us. But God is more about relationships and love than God is about miracles and preventing disasters. Could God prevent the disaster? Perhaps--but what is his hidden purpose? (Yes, that is in scripture) I am a gifted intercessor and I have done intercessions and healing was reported back to me. I have prophesied little bits that pertain to our relationship to God. I believe that when our hearts ache when we see someone who is suffering and we appeal to God, God makes our help possible--we become God's hands in this world through love. I know that I need to pray daily . . . I'm a contemplative and so I actually don't have rigid prayer times so much as prayers of intent as I go about my day. I know the love of God is the love we all ache for. That God understands us the way we ache to be understood. These things God has worked into our being in such a way that we spend our lives searching for them until we find them--even searching in all the wrong places--until this aching need is finally satisfied and the only true answer is God. A friends said that most gods are gods of something: war, harvest, moon, sun; but our God is a god of relationships as in the "God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob." Our lives are enriched by faith and the practice of faith and once we have perceived the presence of God we "hunger and thirst" for more.

I'm not about fairy tales and I'm not a spin master of stories. I can't explain why all these years the Church has furthered untruths and mislead the people in the pew and then time and again the people are left with nothing. Or why the Church has fostered our fear of death, selfishness, self-aggrandizement and especially our hatreds--all brick walls between ourselves and our God. But the knowledge of the experience of God has been recorded time and again by many on the spiritual path and it is out there and has been all along--more in ancient times than in these days.

We all seek something greater than ourselves, we sense it deep within our being. No doubt we will and should reject those ways that do not work for us. This is the sad truth that the churches should hear. Nobody here is immortal--everybody on earth eventually dies--why promise that this God will save our lives in this world when scripture never promises that and none of us--not even the most holy saints--have lived beyond our years. Our hope begins here and is eternal--and ends with God . . .

We shouldn't try to make up answers when we don't have any.

II. For what it is worth, I totally agree with you that the evidence here suggests religion gone horribly wrong. And one of the reasons I am on this board is to try to figure out a way to combat this kind of ungodly theology that creates these monsters who teach, preach, practice hate in the name of God. It is absolutely impossible to have faith in God and do intentional harm to another. If they have faith of any kind it is in the twisted lies, twisted myths. These lies, perpetrated against scripture and our God that have been harranged into them by controlling, self-aggrandizing clergy relying on chopped up scripture to support whatever soapbox issue is in their sights because they love the sound of their own voice and are jealous of power. In short: Brainwashing. It is spiritual abuse! (And it isn't limited to Christianity, either). And unlike the tradition, they rely more on mass hysteria as their experience of god than the silence and stillness that even is described in scripture and taught by Christ.

There are many religions--probably the best, imho, as far as not going wrong, is Buddhism, albeit Buddhism is more often thought of as a philosophy, it is still a religion. I don't believe the world will ever be freed of religion, so the only solution I can think of is for those of us who actually belong to a religion with a mystical basis, is to try to set things to rights. The sad thing is that there is a good and beautiful, PASSIVE, loving basis for the "Peaceful" Abrahamic religions--yes, all three claim the God of PEACE. All three teach LOVE, love of God and love of neighbor. All three have great spiritual leaders and a great and beautiful tradition and a mystical branch to which those who really love God will aspire (notwithstanding a little sexual bias . . . ). Despite the fact that they all have factions that have dredged up and maintained the war god image--that power monger god that never existed but was always wished for. There IS no relationship with the living God of LOVE in an environment of hate--so no, I do not call it faith! Hate precludes the experience of God! Faith is not religion, religion is not faith. If it is faith it is empty and their hopes are always dashed, their god won't come through. That imagined god does not exist! There are a lot of Christians who won't own the title "Christian" anymore. It is so tangled up with the bible cults and extremists and their hateful and despicable actions.

I cannot and will not try to control you, what you think or what you believe. But I will defend the beautiful and loving Christ who never did any harm but loved all (even those who are hard to love), taught love and commanded love; who was persecuted, suffered and died for loving and healing humanity and spent three years preaching to those who--unfortunately did exactly what most religionists do now--created their own god out of their desires instead of accepting the real God that is. This--MURDER--is the extent to which people will go to defend their created traditions and brainwashed cults. What we see in the Passion of the Christ is that we all stand in the crowd that yelled, "Crucify him!"--we are all guilty, it is human nature to want to use a god's gloss to control others and bring about our idealized, albeit sick, concept of what godless good is. But we crucify that nature to take on Christ--to be filled by Christ. We can only do (God's) good, we cannot harbor hate, we cannot try to control others--control issues are at the heart of the lower nature. Hate to say it, but just like the Buddhists we are busy meditating . . . you don't hear much from us.

For what it is worth I admire real science, I accept evolution, I am not a creationist and I believe in reason. True, in some random way, I believe God directed it all--but I don't believe that science can lean on that or we'd all be back to the middle ages . . . I abhore rewriting history and anti-intellectualism, shutting down people's minds to accept a fictionalized view of god is grotesque in my opinion and I don't believe you will burn in hell. Book burning is anathema to me. And I don't care what others believe as long as they don't smear Christ or do harm to others in the name of God!

For what it is worth--I am utterly amazed that Christians are being attacked because God didn't stop the earthquake! Then there should never have been earthquakes! What?! Is it supposed to be paradise?! Talk about imagined gods! lol!

Sometimes I'm still the same old 12 year old kid:

I thought I'd just journal today. I don't do that often enough these days, do I?

The weather was windy, warm and gray all day. Ike has been gone all weekend to Kentucky for the Southwind banquet. So things have been ultra quiet . . . almost.

Yesterday my husband and I managed to work on the house a little bit. We never do too much. It is simply overwhelming. Then his friend called him to ask for help choosing trees from his own property to put around his new house. My husband asked me if I'd care to go with him. Well--it was simply wonderful! The man's land has been a game/elk preserve since the 1930s and is uncultivated with the exception of some crops planted especially for the game. Pure tall grass prairie and the tall grass this year is as high as I am tall and I'm close to six feet. A beautiful creek cuts through the land, steep sided with plenty of water. We must have walked a mile north and then a mile back--at least--with some side trips to check out potential trees here and there. At one point we crossed a low water bridge and looked out at what looked to be a glassy pond, with a huge sycamore, all bright yellows and browns, overhanging the still water. And all the trees and the sky reflecting back off the mirrored surface of the water. The whole place is a piece of history--as it was established by one of our great oil barons. Maybe when we go back I'll have my camera and I can take some pictures. I hope I get the chance before leaf fall.

Then this morning the bell choir played a beautiful piece called Prayer. It haunted me all day.

I'm so embarrassed! I'm shy. Most people don't realize it, but I am. The bells play right at the start of the service. I was alone today--no family. There was nobody waiting for me in a pew or holding a spot for me. Before we began to play, I'd pegged out two potential seats that I could scurry into as soon as the service began. W-e-l-l . . . by the time the bells finished playing, neither seat was open. I walked down the side isle and back. I hate wandering around during the service. You know how people act when they know you're there, they know you are looking for a seat, they have plenty of space--but they don't want to scoot over and invite you in? You know that stubborn way they twist their heads away so they don't have to looooook at you? Yeah, well, I might do the same thing in their shoes since I choose an end seat on purpose . . . So, I gave up. The procession had a healthy start, but the tail end hadn't started down the center isle yet. That meant that Father was still in back of the pews near the narthex. I slipped around the corner and into the narthex, hoping my exit wasn't being witnessed, opened the outside door and, as I stepped out and was just preparing to pull the door gently to, a GUST of wind TORE it out of my hands and it slammed with a deep and resonant THUD! I'll bet it shook the rafters! I'm sure that people in the first row could hear it.

And so, I cowered on out to the parkinglot where I met up with a friend, also skipping, who was telling me that she was going home to take care of her sick daughter. I was pressing against the side of my car, she was so close. I kept my mouth shut. It's embarrassing. Really it is! Thank goodness she didn't get any closer, I might have confessed! "I'm skipping church because I couldn't find a seat!"

The bells returned for Evensong at 5:00. We did this really cool and simple thing called, "Church Bells in the City Square" (I think). While we were gathering, Father managed to come and stop dead center in my direct line of vision so I could not avoid looking at him. If it was an effort to make me feel guilty--he succeeded. And indeed, he did rather have that look about him.

The piece went pretty well. One large bell starts it, one set of (8)high bells plays the scale from top down repeatedly; then the random ringers (myself included) chime in from a different quarter of the church; then two players begin playing Westminster Bells in another quarter of the church; each is quieted, until finally, in the silence at the very end one HUGE E bell bongs five bells to call people to evening worship.

Well, Ike was gone and so I volunteered to play his HUGE E. Practice had gone swimmingly even though it is definitely a tough bell to ring--very heavy, a two handed job! This evening, the first two bongs sounded great--but the third didn't happen! The clapper didn't fall, the move was a dud. I was standing smack dab in front of the congregation and everybody saw me glance fearfully up at the quiet bell, gather my strength for another attempt and finish all five.

The Tulsa Boys Choir were our guests tonight. They put on a wonderful service--I love Anglican chant! But as I sat listening to them, my mind tried to work on the bell scenario that had just failed--Ike's perfect bonging gone so bad in my weak hands . . . and I tried to figure out if an actual church bell could miss a ring. I imagined the large rope and the ringer grasping it, pulling it down, BONG, then riding the rope up, legs dangling, touching the ground and pulling the rope, riding it up and then--horror of horrors!--the hands slipping, the ringer falling, scrambling to get back up, chasing the wild rope as the bell swings silently overhead . . . and I laughed almost silently at the thought.

The service wrapped up. The boys filed silently out of the Church. I looked them over, smiling at them as if to say I appreciated their music. And then before I'd corralled my eyes, Father, taking up the rear as usual caught me. I looked away--but sneaked a look back and he was still looking directly at me. He had that knowing smile . . .

Change under pressure:

On my blog rounds this morning, I visited Ron's blog and found this entry: emergence under pressure . . . in your church. Talk about sacred secular! This entry speaks to where I am in every aspect of my life right now.

Yesterday morning I came home from church reeling. It is one of those years--one of those bad years--where nothing in my life is going according to plan. If there is proof that we have very little control over our lives, the situation that I am in now proves it. All I know is that I'm in a pressure cooker that is about to explode. I have no idea where or when, but when it occurs, there is no telling how far the splatter will fly or how much. Or, in other words, I really don't know what is coming 'round the bend, but I'm craning my neck and ready for whatever comes my way.

Yesterday morning, sitting in the pew, a man who couldn't even follow the service handed me a filled out seeker's card to put into the collection plate. Every week there are new faces in our church. Shades of what occurred in Virginia echo here. People from other denominations are taking over the pews. The angry conservatives are going to make a move to steal the church. I've seen the writing on the wall for years now--I'm just waiting for God to open that window I'm always promised. In the meantime, I am sitting almost still, just waiting. Because through faith I do believe that God will show me what her will is and the direction she wants for me to go. Who knows where this will go or how it will play out in the end. Only God knows.

About that open window (if you will pardon cliches): I think God is preparing the furrow. For example, I have been leading a discussion group over a book on St. Benedict's Rule. I've never considered myself any sort of public speaker/teacher. Far from it. But--and very sweetly, as I have so often said that I am where I am because of the people I love--the women have been coming to me and telling me how much they have been enjoying the discussion. I usually tell them that is themselves--they take the ball and play with it, they make it happen. And yesterday morning I was pleasantly surprised by a similar compliment from a woman who had previously found the book daunting--and I was so happy! Her thoughts had been a concern to me.

Which brings me to another thing--love. I feel as though when the turmoil in the church begins to reach boiling, these wonderful women come to distract me, to bolster me, to hold me up, to warm me. There are no politics in it--their point of view doesn't matter. They are apolitical, faithful, spiritual and GREAT! (And maybe I shouldn't leave out the men who show their support, either. Thanks Z!) I don't need to say or do anything--they think of it all by themselves. I wish that I was as good as they are!

At any rate, what I'm saying is that perhaps I have a gift that I had never guessed at. Or, with God's help, I can do things I thought were impossible.

So, here I am at this juncture of forced change in both my secular and sacred life. Isn't it just exactly as Ron has just said in his blog? "There is something about looking ahead to a new horizon, not being able to really see what is ahead that causes fear... so much fear, we'll strain our necks, constantly looking back to the land of familiarity we just left." I'm trying to keep that new horizon in mind. It could be anything and it could be anywhere. I've been driven out of my charted course by winds that I hadn't foreseen. But it is done. Nothing is left but to box my compass straight and chart a new course.