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!

Loneliness:

It is that time of the year that causes immense suffering for those who are lonely. Which makes me think of what I am called to do by Christ. I am called to love even those who are difficult to love, the least among us.

A few weeks ago I participated in a conversation about this very thing, if you will. The question asked was, "I know I am called to love my neighbor, but do I have to like her?" The consensus in the group was, "No. You have to love her, but you don't have to like her." And with that answer the intent was that this person need not associate with her annoying friend, need not include her in her group, etc.--in short, shun her.

Who am I to buck the group? I'm one small voice. The norm of the group is to allow that a person has some deep-seated personality flaws and she is difficult to have around, she does some socially irresponsible things and hurts people in the process and so--even though only God would know it--we love her (how?) but exclude her. Note, this isn't a person who is intentionally abusive. She probably hasn't got a clue what others don't like about her. She isn't socially adept. I, on the other hand, think that if I am loving toward my neighbor, then my neighbor knows it. Far be it from me to be very judgmental, truth be told, so my voice wasn't very loud. But like so many other ways we don't do the hard things we are called to do, loving the least among us is a biggy we'd rather forgive in ourselves and avoid rather than change.

There are lonely people that I am not taking care of at this time and so guilt is contributing as much to my silence in the group as the outcry against my better judgment. But self-examination leaves me with the burden of doing something about my unloving and un-Christlike burden. I do have to love the people that are difficult to love. From the opposite side of the same street, I realize that I am hurt by the people who don't seem to find me to be a lovable, worthwhile person. I know that I am not deserving of their unloving behavior! ;) So, who am I to do the same thing to somebody else?

When my children were growing up, they were normal. It hurt them to be normal. At about age thirteen or so, the painful truth that they were not among the most popular kids in the school caused untold misery. I especially had to give my eldest child several pep talks on the subject. In every school, indeed in every place we go in life, there will be the few, the pacesetters, the top dogs, the few at the top of the heap. But the vast majority of us have to endure being average: somewhat liked, often disliked; sometimes agreed with, often disagreed with; sometimes respected and often reviled; sometimes included, often excluded; sometimes noticed, often overlooked. There is only room at the top for two or three and the second tier are their favored inner-circle, beyond that are all the rest of us.

What makes a person popular? Is it their intelligence? No . . . I know some totally intelligent people that are dreadful to be around. Is it that they always say and do the right things? No . . . I've seen popular people say and do dreadful things. In short, I've never figured out any reason for them to be popular that they did intentionally. It seems to be more like . . . an accident of birth. It is more like being born with a certain skin color, or into a wealthy home, or artistically talented, or mathematically inclined. But I must say that being socially adept and popular is good for the self-esteem.

Yesterday I wrote about Thanksgiving and family. Families are a case in point! We get tossed together with some of the strangest people! There are definitely people in every family that are a pain. We have to look deep for their worthiness to love, ignore a lot of bad behavior, brush aside past hurts and sit at the same table.

My point isn't so much that there are unpopular people as it is that some people are more difficult to like, more distant and hard to get to know than others, shy and uninclined to speak up and so go unnoticed. For a myriad of reasons, the lonely are among us. In the first example, the woman in question was bossy.

While running an errand and thinking on this subject, I remembered a man I once knew. He was rude, never curbed his tongue, critical of everybody--a real bear! I hated to be anywhere near him and I usually did avoid him. We worked together at the children's home. But let me tell you, when one of those kids was in some sort of trouble or in need, he would move earth and sky to take care of them. That rough exterior was hiding a heart as big as all outdoors! In the long run, I would say that he is one of the best people that I have ever known. He wasn't a bear! He was a huge grumpy teddy-bear!

I've been thinking a lot about Anne Lamott's book, Grace (Eventually). I suffer a sense of guilt because most of my religious counterparts read more meaty theological works. But what Anne is dealing with is the grit of Grace--the living out of faith. It is the most complex theology of all! How do we live out our faith. I don't recall a single meaty theological discussion that dealt with loving the least among us, even those who are difficult to love.

In this book she tells about a woman's husband who has some deep personality flaws and was, shall I say, to be avoided if possible. I gather he'd corner Anne and talk her ear off on some subject ad infinitum. But Anne's friend, who was fighting cancer, was struggling through a heat wave and suffering. Her husband bought an A/C--spur of the moment with funds saved for a vacation. He courted his wife's anger, he defied her wishes--all because he loved her and loved her life. It was grace, I gather, for Anne to see in him something worth loving and to appreciate the fact that he loved her friend.

I hold that every person has both good and not so good--shall I say bad?--personality traits, but all are lovable if we just find what it is that is lovable about them. And it is harder to find love for some than it is for others. I also hold that we are all children of God and we are all called to love each other. And loving does mean that the object of our love knows they are loved. So, loving the least among us, loving even those who are difficult to love, does actually include loving those we don't like. It may not mean that we must be with them day in and day out or include them in all our activities, but it should mean that we tolerate even those who annoy us, that we greet them in such a friendly way that they feel loved and welcomed when they come our way; that we forgive them for their stupidity; it may mean that we allow them to approach us and talk to us at a party and it may mean that we are willing to speak to them, pick up the phone, if they call. It may mean that we are so open to them that if they whispered their pain, we would hear it.

kataphatic theology:

Humbly, I'd never heard of it before. Note that I did not capitalize it. I know about kataphatic practice. I understand the concept of negation--or at least I understand it in the way a book keeper differs in understanding the books from the way an accountant will. I understand its application. This morning I visited Maggie Ross' site again and she sent me on a tangent of research at the beginners level to try to understand. She is quite the intellectual. I began with Wikipedia!

She may help me make that leap I've never quite managed to make into a more intellectual pursuit of the mysteries that intrigue me. I had resented the introduction of psychology into explaining mysticism. Not that I resent science, but I resent tangling science and religion in such a way that the science seems to subtract from the experience of faith. Evelyn Underhill, in her famous work, Mysticism, was the first to assault my prejudices. Perhaps I am more receptive now to the idea. At least I don't mind using psychology to attempt to explain the phenomenon, but I have accosted those who tangle psychological terms and religious terms in such a way that the confusing muck that remains once they are done is sufficient to bog down any communication. I hate the misuse of the word ego as a substitute for soul. I think it is an injustice to both the science and the practice of faith.

I guess I am taking this two ways this morning. My first consideration is how to communicate concepts such as kataphatic theology. Maggie dislikes the use of the word spiritual. I recoiled because, quite honestly, I am such an ignoramus! I'd be ashamed to say to her, "I use the term, but simply because I haven't found a better term to express it."

Communication in my mind means to communicate to anybody--not just the limited few, but across boundaries, from catholic to protestant or Christian to Buddhist and maybe even educated to uneducated, although I fall into the uneducated in religion category. What good does it do to speak past each other or to mull over a theology that is so advanced in the way we have rendered it through our vocabulary that it can't touch the ground from the lofty heights of its ivory tower? If it is not going to help the masses, then it isn't worth the effort to think about it. Until we have overcome the language barrier and learn to speak to each other in a shared vocabulary we tend to speak past each other. How does a liberal speak to a conservative, or a Catholic to a Baptist? In the end she mentions using the word faith, since she likes it. I thought of all the baggage that I have found dragging along with the word faith. I have asked people to define the word faith and I get all sorts of responses. So, if I use the word faith, or spiritual for that matter, the baggage the person carries is going to define how they receive the message and it will tint their understanding. One reality, many religions!

It may occur to somebody that the current tendency to anti-intellectualism especially on the far right side of Christendom might just be a response to this phenomenon! If it can't be rendered into the common tongue, perhaps it isn't worth saying at all!

Going back to the original subject of theology, a word M.R. also claims to not like but must find necessary as she mentioned kataphatic theology. Another term that could apply is via negativa.

I like the idea of thinking in terms of what God is not. It battles the stereotypes of God that I am always battling. Let God define God. Negating is sort of like imagining infinity, a mind numbing leap into something that can't quite be quantified, qualified, so huge it can't be limiting, insistantly expanding, each barrier in turn vaporizing and vanishing; the vision begins to sweep a wide arc from peripheral to peripheral, a whole spectrum, like radar, alert to the blackness, the stillness and the void, with no expectations, dry of emotion, empty and unfilled. Open, waiting and not waiting, not even aware that the hope that a bright spot of light, a blip on the radar screen, can fill my understanding and leave without having defined itself.

Wikipedia has all those little blue lines! Each one is clickable. It is like looking up a word in the dictionary and finding five more that need to be looked up before the original word can be understood. I ended up downloading the complete works of Dionysius the Areopagite. I might as well begin at the beginning. At this rate, it will take 2,000 years for me to finally get a foothold on postmodern soil. So, now all I need to do is wrangle the theology into the practice so I can understand . . .

Maggie Ross:

A friend pointed me to Maggie Ross' blog: Voice in the Wilderness

It is the most amazing blog! She's a terrific writer. She is a Solitary and her insights into faith are extraordinary. I was visiting her blog last night and her entry mentioned a liturgy that she'd posted in January of 2006. I went back to read the referenced liturgy. Needless to say, I still haven't. I began reading the very top entry on that link. It resonates so well with what I have been feeling as pertains to prayer! There is one paragraph there that I want to frame. I just sat there and read and reread it. Then I read it for Ike, who, being a teenager and short on attention span for all things religious, surprised me by his receptiveness. So here is the link to that entry too. It is so much better to have you read what she writes about prayer than to try to write it and fudge it myself!

Top entry on prayer

I want to go tap all my blogging friends on the shoulder and suggest that if they haven't already explored her blog, they should. I've already written the title of one of her books (yes, she's been published) to begin treasuring even more "Maggie Ross". I'm tempted to print out her whole blog!

Stunted growth:

This past spring a number of maples came up in the shady garden on the north side of the house. I chose the healthiest and largest and had my husband dig it up and transplant it to a large bare grassy area of the yard. As the summer wore on, I watered it and watched it, but it never grew. In the meantime, the ones we had left in the unweeded garden tripled in size. The other day, I puzzled over it and realized he must have cut off the tap root. I'm surprised because he knows trees and has worked with them for the past thirty years.

I think that a lot of us are this way about our faith, too. We cut off our tap roots. One of the lessons learned in my spiritual journey was the profound realization of how little I do know. I heard others say that too. It seems the inverse happens, the more I know, the more certain I am of the deficit in my knowledge base. It is in a state of uncertainty that I am most certain! It is in openess that I am ready to receive the message. My own measure of myself was to realize that I don't have the mind of God even though I make the mistake of feeling as though I do. And, so I test what I believe. I allow myself to be challenged by what I read or hear or see. It reminds me of Jesus telling the Jewish people who were in the crowd to "open their ears and hear." Their certainties were keeping their ears closed to his message. And so, in obedience to Christ, I listen with my whole self.

What inspired me in the idea of the tap root today was a discussion with some "mystics" who hate religion. They seem to be hoping to bring an end to the established religions and to teach people that they can be spiritual outside of the traditions and baggage of religion. I copied the definition of religion out of the dictionary and posted it for them to read. I attempted to tell them that even if they shun religion, they are practicing a religion. And given wings, it will develop all the ills of traditional religion. It will have its instruction, its taboos, its praxis and even its tradition. But more importantly to me is that our taproot is the tried and true! It is the centuries of knowledge and experience, success and failure, sharing and loving and hating together that makes our religion a rich resource for us to follow. I'm sorry to say that as I watched the conversation develop, I think their religion is hating religion.

My argument was and is that there is a body of knowledge about the way of the mystics in all the ancient religions. I felt surprised that I even had to point out that I believe religion springs from mystical experience and we gain by the preservation and repetition of it. The contemplative/mystical aspect of traditional praxis in the Christian tradition is often glossed over or misunderstood, rituals practiced without comprehending the full benefits--but of course, I finally came to see the spiritual value in them--so it awaits discovery by each participant one precious gift at a time. Once this is revealed, we look forward to it, joyfully sharing it with the other members of our community, generously encouraging others to come to our table to share it with us. Several times, I have met somebody who said that it was during the Eucharist that they first encountered the risen Lord.

My tap root is the means of being open to the leading of the Holy Spirit as a tap root brings up the living water to nourish the growing tree, so does the Holy Spirit bring me the living water to nourish my growing faith. It is trusting that if in anything I am remiss or I am mistaken, through the Grace of God, I will be set to rights.

I thirst . . .

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.

Dogma*

There is considerable contention within Christianity and among its divisions over certain aspects of the faith, very old aspects, such as dogma and doctrine. The legacy of the reformation has created a body of Christians who loathe the very idea and like to point fingers and declare their view to be authoritatively based on scripture alone. It is one of those contentious little details that I perceive as a fallacy, one of those hypocritical acts of finger pointing that people of all makes and models are prone to do.

A lot of that dogma has to do with creating the right atmosphere. By that I mean to include all that is within the scope of the spiritual Christian and faith. There are many ways to do that, perhaps. Some people may find the right atmosphere sitting on a hilltop watching the sun set. In other words, the essentials can be stripped down to their bare essentials but there will be a body of knowledge and of practice that the Christian accepts and understands. Whether it is the Church itself that has determined these essentials or a protestant denomination or a single individual it remains technically dogma to those who follow it.

Atonement is a biggy! There is a confusing array of potential doctrines, but as with so many things of faith we can poke holes in all of them or they all fall short of explaining exactly what happened. My own doctrine, if you will pardon me, is that God perceived that we humans wouldn’t be able to accept forgiveness unless we understood that a price had been paid and so it was arranged. I don’t think God needed to sacrifice his only son. God can do anything. It simply reflects the story of Abraham and builds on the ultimate potential sacrifice for the satisfaction of sin. So, our Lord died to save a bunch of goats. *Said with a smile, of course!* Actually, it is a whole lot more complex and I don’t know how to write it. I don’t like rotten tomatoes, either.

At any rate, when we approach God in prayer, we know that we have been washed clean and we know that it isn’t something that we did. It makes God more approachable and at the same time still instrumental to our well-being. So our knowledge of sin creates a right state where pride has died and humility reigns.

I don't think it is ever in believing any thing about God (Christ). I think it is in believing IN, or having faith in Christ, the person. Faith being complete trust. Contemplation requires emptying ourselves, the "Cloud of Forgetting". It isn’t in knowing the right stuff. It is not thinking the right thoughts. It is rather like not thinking at all. It is an act of opening ourselves up to the one we call on. That's why so many find the foreshortened Jesus prayer so effective. Some of us, however have overactive minds. We are so totally self-absorbed that it takes more to bring us into his presence.

In the Church, the ancients used song (chant) psalmody and prayer, reading and contemplating and praying the scriptures to empty the mind in an active way. Or rather, as a means of losing self-awareness. I say I am a reader and I can read my way into the right state. St. Mary was often depicted with a Bible on her lap as a contemplative early on. That was her as role model.

Rituals tell us when God is active among us so that we are more open to his presence and accepting. It isn't that God isn't present at all times, but that we need help sometimes in opening ourselves up to his presence. People may reject those rituals, but they replace them with other rituals they don't call rituals but they still believe that God meets them in their anti-rituals.

An example of such a ritual would be the requirement of the Fundamentalists that baptism is only done after a person has repented of the sin and accepted Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. It would be by submersion only and infant baptism is not considered either valid or possible. To claim that this is not a ritual would be ridiculous. To claim that it is not a tradition would be equally ridiculous. It has become both for them in their practice of faith. Thus the hypocrisy! But it serves the same purpose. Almost.

Splitting hairs over a word is ridiculous. The scriptures, especially the Epistles, are full of what we are to do and what we are not to do, of what we are to believe and where we might err. To claim that dogma is an invention of later days is a waste of effort! Official dogma was mankind’s effort to set into concrete something they were afraid somebody else might come along and change. Note that I like rock and concrete for their very concreteness.

Find God wherever you can. I find God in my garden, in the pefection of his creation as in the moist cool earth in spring or the opacity of a flower petal. I find God in the dark of night when I am alone and afraid and he calms me. I find God in an infants face, in the trickle of water from a rock, in a bird's song from a treetop. And one night in Holy Week, I left the Church with an unsatisfied feeling only to find what I was searching for in the midnight blue sky dominated by the full moon.

It is not anything ABOUT God, it is not "right belief" or "right doctrine." God is not in a place such as a church building while not being outside its doors. God is not in a cross and he certainly is not within the covers of a book or at least no more so than he is in a handful of dirt (the very rocks would cry aloud). God is Spirit. It is all about seeking God and where he can be found and listening to God and hearing God--an active, living presence.

The problem, I think, is that if I tell you that the only way that you can seek God is to do it my way. God is so much bigger than that!

Discernment:

Yesterday morning, I led the discussion for our DoK meeting again over our book, Seeking God: The Way of St. Benedict. This was the first time I actually had to do any leading because the group just took off on their own after the first question and discussed it without any help whatsoever from me. They're great! This time I actually did have to bring up each point, but again and enjoyably, they made it easy. I'm always so terrified beforehand! They always settle all my fears.

My priest gives me that look that says, "I wonder . . . " I know that he is still considering my extreme interest in monasticism. I have no idea where this leads. He has this way of being very still as though he is observing with his eyes but praying with his heart at the same time. It intrigues me. I want to say, "What are you thinking? What is your leading?"

In silence we discern the will of God, not quickly or hastily. Is this but a night's rest along the way or is it a new path? Where do I go from here? What do I learn from those around me and their responses to me? If he asked me what my greatest concerns are--which he doesn't do and I assume that is because he sees my personality and doesn't need to--I'd have to say that it is that I love people and I love talking to people. And then he might say, "Perhaps your path is more interactive . . . " And I might agree.

On another note, even after such a glorious morning, I still fell prey to anger and frustration again over somebody telling me that our Lord never told us to fast! Well that was the first blow. It sent me on a terrible tangent! I am so ashamed.

Revisiting St. John of the Cross

As I approach the anniversary of the events of Ash Wednesday of last year and the Great Peace that followed, I reflect back on that journey as I wonder what this year will bring. I haven't felt much need to write about faith this past year. I did at times, but it seemed to have a sameness to it that bothered me. My way forward has seemed unclear and as though I am inching along my path. I have felt that I have not been doing enough and as though I have not served God well and I have felt especially lonely not to feel any driving force through the grace of God. I have examined myself in ways that I never thought I would examine myself. I have lost all sense of envy of others--except as I would imitate them--noting my admiration of their opportunities, energy or inspiration instead. God's Great Peace has not left me feeling unloved but unmoved. Even as Lent began last year I felt sure of one thing, and it sort of bends a bit of scripture: Be still and know that I am God. And so I did.

Even when I felt the quickening of life again at the end of Lent last year, much of my past practice still held little luster. Meditation, which I think I had always come to naturally, had lost all appeal for me. I said my prayers dutifully, but I've been dissapointed by my ability to remember to work at following St. Benedict's Rule more enthusiastically. I've continued to be a little bit wishy-washy about my path.

Last week I loaned my priest the book that I had been studying, Traditions of Christian Spirituality. While I still have a dozen new books in my reading library that are begging me to read them, I noticed that Dark Night of the Soul had fallen onto the floor somehow. I picked it up, checked the marker in it--which may be my first Reading as lector--and then began to reread it. I hadn't read it for a good four years. It is a thin volume, at any rate.

It is a tedious read because the only copy I could find was an older translation. I had even intended to buy a better copy sometime. At any rate, it wasn't long before St. John had brought me to where I am on my journey. I recognized it. I am walking the path of purgation of the senses. Without remembering St. John's advice, I have actually followed it--or instinctively followed it.

So, that is where I am. And, again, one of those ancient mystics have pinpointed my path and thrilled me with their wisdom.

Summation and conclusion of Thursday's dream:

Warning: Spiritual slant! ;)

Posted on a discussion board:

Night before last I was soaking in the tub and thinking about this very thread, when I must have fallen into a light sleep. I had this really weird dream where I became Frodo Baggins in Shelob's lair. Shelob was chasing after me and I was running through the dark tunnels thinking that I was pretty much spider meat, when I saw a faint arc of light, like light sneaking in through a crack over curved door. All my being focused on that light, that freedom promised by the light. The hope that I felt was all that was left when I woke up. Later, after I was slightly astounded that I can sleep and keep my head above water, I realized that this dream was spawned by my musings on baptism. Given a glimpse of that light of God we are all given hope--none of us would prefer to become spider meat in a dark and dangerous evil lair! None of us would resist that hope and allow ourselves to be eaten by that spider and choose death over life.