Category Archives: Faith and Spirituality

Life is a Conspiracy Against Nature

Spring                                         Full Flower Moon

Dicentra in deep pink, iris in deep purple, tulips in yellow, red, orange and purple, daffodils in many combinations of yellow and white, plus, amazing for this time of year, lilacs, fill out the full flower moon here.   The moon’s light, silvered and slight, gives no presence for the flowers so they close up, invite no visitors.  When I walk in the garden at night, under the flower moon, its namesakes here on earth sleep, perhaps dreaming of bright days, bees and warm breezes.

Emma has recovered almost to her old self, and I do mean her old self, not even her mature self.  Her old self is wobbly, a bit eccentric in motion and attention, but she enjoys the sun, a small dinner and a warm spot on the couch.  So do I.  Life is a conspiracy against nature, wonderful and delightful while it dances and spins, mocking the tendency of all things toward chaos.  That it exists at all is a miracle.

A good day, productive and educational.  All except for that sting on the posterior.  A bit of humility administered by an aging worker bee.

Living and Dying

Spring                                                    Full Flower Moon

Death comes calling whenever it wants,  not worrying about the season or the weather or the inclinations of the living.  Kate’s colleague, Dick, suffering from multiple myeloma has gone on hospice care after two years of often brutal treatment regimens.  Bill Schmidt’s brother, who has prostate cancer, also chose hospice care recently to ease the pain of complications.

Tonight I was on my first Political Committee call of the year, a Sierra Club committee that deals in endorsements and retail politics.  The dogs were making noise so I quick ran upstairs to shoo them inside.  Emma didn’t come inside.  She lay under the cedar tree.  I’ve watched a lot of dogs die over the last 20 years and when I went to her side, she looked up at me, but had the stare that looks beyond, out a thousand yards, or is it infinity?  Her body was cold and she did not rise.

Vega, the big puppy, came outside and poked at Emma with her paw, sat down and nuzzled her.  Vega loves Emma, has since she was a little puppy.  I called Kate to let her know I thought Emma was dying.  Emma’s fourteen, our oldest dog right now, and our oldest dog ever with the possible exception of Iris.  At fourteen her time is near, perhaps it will come yet tonight.  Right now she’s on the couch, wrapped in a blue blanket, her head on her favorite pillow.

She seems a bit more alert now and Kate says her heartbeat is regular.  She may have had an arrhythmia and converted it, that is, brought herself back into normal rhythm.  Hard to say.  As Kate said, she appears to have the dwindles.

When I compared the call, about politics, and Emma lying outside, I realized Emma was more important to me than the call, so I stayed with her awhile, brought her inside and made her comfortable on the couch.  Then I returned to the call.

I’m Ready

Spring                                                  Waxing Flower Moon

I’m ready.  What a phrase.  So innocent.  Three words.  Could be I’m ready to dance.  I’m ready to walk.  I’m ready to go all the way.  I’m ready to quit.  I’m ready to start.  I’m ready to rumble.

This phrase came into focus for me when Dick, a colleague of Kate’s with multiple myeloma, said, after a visit from his financial planner, “I’m ready.”  I’m ready to die.

I’m ready indicates an inflection point in our life, a moment when a decision turns from option to choice.  We signal our willingness to execute, to act.  To dance.  To walk. To quit.  To die.

I’m ready could be a creed, a three word existentialist philosophy.  It means I’ve made up my mind.  Just me.  No one else.  I’m responsible for what happens next.

I’m ready to cross the Rubicon.  I’m ready to drive.  I’m ready to fly.  I’m ready to go to college.  Get married.  Have a child.  Retire.

As I grow older, a lot of the simpler things now appear profound.  I’m ready is one of them.  Watch for the next time you or a friend or loved one say it.  Something important may be about to happen.

Pushing Ambition

Spring                                           Awakening Moon

Some Latin sentences translated.  Met Ryan, whose going to cut our grass and manage some general lawn work under Kate’s tutelage.  Learned from Kate that all school after high school is college.  Ryan plans to go to a trade school to become an electrician or a lineman.  I’m glad.  We’ve pushed so many kids into college with that old, it takes a college degree to get ahead and look at the earning differences for college graduates.  In fact, college and graduate school has things to offer to only a small percentage of the population, far fewer than the number who attend.  Most of them would be happier and better served learning how to be electricians or lineman or mechanics or illustrators or chef’s or small business owners.

American society pushes ambition like a street dealer pushes smack or ecstasy.  And in practically the same terms.  It will make you high, happy, socially attractive, better off than you are now.  That ambition in turn pushes kids out of high school onto college campuses in ridiculously huge numbers.  Much better to have a society where the mark of a good education is a successful fit between student and education, student and job.

Again, dark.  Hope rain will fall.  Soon.  We need it.  I’m worn out.  Good night.

Night Casts Round A Cloak of Quiet

Spring                                                  Awakening Moon

Night has fallen, the temperature, too and quiet dominates.  It is, as I have written here before, a meditative time, a free time, a time when the world is little with us and the mind can roam free over its own landscapes. The spinning of the planet then creates a certain amount of time in every 24, almost everywhere (with the polar exceptions), when we can all become hermits.  Yes, it’s harder in, say Manhattan or downtown Las Vegas, but even in these places where the bright lights and nocturnal activity pulse away, even there, the night is still a time of refuge for the soul, at least if we choose to take it.

I’ve begun watching another John Woo film, Red Cliff, which recounts the fall of the Han Dynasty in the early 3rd century A.C.E.  Red Cliff is a battle site, so recognized that it might be named Gettysburg or Bunker Hill or Pearl Harbor were it an American battle of equal renown.  Gradually Chinese film makers have begun to explore the long, long history of Chinese civilization and create films at least representative of key times in that history.

The Han Dynasty covers the same time period, roughly, as Rome immediately after Caesar, the time of the Emperors.  I find it interesting to keep these cross cultural time lines in mind, to know that as the battle of Red Cliff rages in China, the Emperor Diocletian has decided to sever the Roman Empire into its Eastern and Western halves.

En-Theos

Spring                                      Awakening Moon

If you know me, you know I have enthusiasms.  Two or three years in astronomy.  Two years of close study of Jungian thought.    9 years of touring and two and a half years of education in art history.  A full years home study course in horticulture.  We’re now in our third year of converting our property to a permaculture environment for vegetables, fruits and nuts.  The most recent instance, though one of long standing in my thoughts, is Latin.

As I finished my first four lines of the Metamorphoses the other day, it struck me that art history and Latin suit me pretty well, better than politics and the church.  I said this out loud to Kate and she said, “Well, philosophy and anthropology were more masculine.”  I guess that’s true and I guess the same certainly goes for politics although that’s changed a lot since the 60’s.  The ministry is a more mushy profession gender wise, especially for liberal protestants, but since I always did politics and consulting, probably not so for me.

The thing is, I don’t think art history and Latin were options that were even visible to me.  It wasn’t, in other words, that I rejected them in favor of philosophy and anthropology.  Nothing much more to say about this than that I have them in my life now and I’m not about to let go.

I have wondered about political action, long my baseline activity, the self-authenticating act.  Has its time passed for me?  I’m not sure about that. Will take more thought.

Is there life after birth?

Spring                                            Awakening Moon

Resurrection makes sense on a day like today; as it happens, Easter Sunday.  66 degrees, green popping out all over, pachysandra continuing its green invasion (planned) of the third tier of our perennial gardens, daffodils in bloom and many, many throwing up their green spears toward the sun.  Tulips and garlic and parsnips.  Buzzing bees.  Dogs running and jumping.  The air moved around with light, warm breezes.  Who says the dead don’t come to life?

In spite of the easter bonnets, the died eggs, chocolate bunnies and marshmallow ducks this is the key event in the Christian liturgical calendar.  With no resurrection the other claims are nothing more than interesting two-millennia old ethics and culture.  With resurrection all the other claims take on a sacred aura, through them you too can participate in the life after death.

This is such an odd thought, once you step outside the hermeneutical circle.  Not so much that a God could bring the dead back to life, I mean, God, right?  Not so much that people could believe it, many strange things are known with or without philosophy, after all.  No, for me, the strange thing, in retrospect, is that the club has so many convoluted rules.

A loving God who retrieves his own son from the ferry and returns him to life.  OK.  A loving God who promises the same thing to others.  OK.  A loving God who seems convinced that many won’t make it and end up either vanished or in gehenna, the burning waste dump outside the city walls?  Geez.  Of course, His game, His rules.  Yeah. But why go through the motions for only a few, a select few. That’s not only weird, it seems perverse.  We can’t understand God’s logic?  Boy, is that true.

Anyhow, enough about Him.  Me, I’m in for the resurrection that comes from mixing my essential elements back into the soil, providing a little food for the fungi and micro-organisms in the soil, the soul?  What if that’s what the after life really is, our souls collected in the mass grave that is this earth to become food for the worms?  Works for me.

It’s possible, of course, and I like to entertain the idea that death is a process like the cocoon, a time of incubation when our cells become, like the butterflies, imaginal.  They reshape themselves into a new think altogether, a Swallowtail from a caterpillar.  It happens here.  I’ve seen it.  Or, maybe we’re like water, in this shape in this state, but in a gas or a  solid, something related but different.  Or, and this  one seems the most plausible to me, the many worlds hypothesis turns out to be true and we pass from world to world, inhabiting this body, perhaps another, on and on and on until last syllable of reported time.

Resurrection is so important a possibility, is my point, that it shouldn’t have a morals clause or be dependent on what we believe.  If it is, it just is and we will be swept up into something new, something different and have another go.  I like that idea.

Being YourSelf

Spring                                       Full Awakening Moon

“To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.” – e.e cummings

This has always been top of the list for me, remain me.  I’ve had my skirmishes with great levelers like alcohol, tobacco, marriage for no discernible reason, the cloak of ecclesiastics. Even after these resolved or faded into the background, I continued to struggle with that greatest beast of all for men, ambition.  Fame.  Honor.  Wondering just when my gifts would finally gain recognition, the recognition they deserved.  Didn’t occur to me until much later that they probably already had.  Gained the recognition they deserved.

The drive to live into your true Self rather than plump up your persona, polish the ego is a strong one, but it often gets subducted, like a continental tectonic plate meeting another.  This kind of movement, pushing the true Self far down, further into the dark center of Self, only increases the tremors when it finally becomes untenable, when the true self must out.

We can ever tell for ourselves how well we’re doing on this score because the persona and the ego set the original tender traps, honey pots of positive stroking, so our self evaluator is too often compromised.  Analysis helps.  So does a loving partner who will be honest while being kind.  Friends of the same kind, help too.

Today though, as I live into my 63rd year, 63 long trips around the sun, it feels to me as if I generally live as my self,  not as others would have me be, but as my own conscience guides.  Hallelujah.

The Sparrow

Spring                                             A Near Full Awakening Moon

Just saw La Vie En Rose, the story of Edith Piaf. Kate was familiar with the story, I was not.  Her life began in abandonment by both of her parents, one after the other, a childhood in a brothel, her grandmother’s, a life singing on the streets until her discovery at 20.  It went from there to a world career, on stage, in movies, while in her life disaster kept following on disaster.  The love of her life, a boxer, died on a plane flight she had begged to make, so he could be with her instead of his wife and children.  Her frailty, evident in childhood continued throughout her career with exhaustion, then drug dependency and an early death at 47.  Her music has a smoky, nightclub ambiance and strikes the heart fast, often from the first note.  I was glad to make her acquaintance.

My conversation earlier today with Ian Boswell on music as a convergence of rationality and soulfulness has stayed on my mind.  I ordered Beethoven’s piano sonata’s and Chopin’s music, a complete set played by Garrick Olson.  I’m making a commitment to start listening to classical music and jazz here at home until Kate and I can break free, after her retirement and return to the Ordway to hear the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra again.  I miss the music.  The notion of a post-modern world, one where reason and spirit blend, where the critiques of the Enlightenment like Romanticism and environmentalism might converge, may be a world filled with thoughtful, soulful music.

Preachers Who Are Not Believers

Spring                                   Waxing Awakening Moon

Gave Liberal II this morning.  Lot of conversation, a little consternation.  Best piece was a conversation with Ian Boswell, the music director.  We discussed the limits of rationality and the integration of reason and soulfulness that great music represents.  He pointed to the late sonatas of Beethoven.  This has given me food for thought for Liberal III:  The Future.

The work I do for Groveland and the transition from Christian to Unitarian got a piece of context I hadn’t had from this very interesting paper:  Preachers Who Are Not Believers.  This is qualitative research done by a social worker with five subjects.  She has done extensive interviewing with each one and her co-researcher, Daniel Dennet, the theophobe philosopher from Tufts University carefully explain that the sample is too small to allow any general conclusions to be drawn.  Each of the clergy self-describe as non-believers though what they mean by that phrase has enormous plasticity.

If the topic interests you, I encourage you to look at the paper, the link above will take you there.  What intrigued me was their guess about why there is such a phenomenon in the first place; that is, how to people end up in the ministry then come to lose their faith.  I think they’re right.

Let me quote:  “The answer seems to lie in the seminary experience shared by all our pastors, liberals and literals alike. Even some conservative seminaries staff their courses on the Bible with professors who are trained in textual criticism, the historical methods of biblical scholarship, and what is taught in those courses is not what the young seminarians learned in Sunday school, even in the more liberal churches. In seminary they were introduced to many of the details that have been gleaned by centuries of painstaking research about how various ancient texts came to be written, copied, translated, and, after considerable jockeying and logrolling, eventually assembled into the Bible we read today. It is hard if not impossible to square these new facts with the idea that the Bible is in all its particulars a true account of actual events, let alone the inerrant word of God.”

They don’t mention the equally corrosive discipline of church history.  In church history the actual stories of doctrinal development give a historically relativistic inflection to them that does serious damage to their confident assertion.  My favorite example is the trinity, a concept which passed by one vote at the Council of Nicaea embedded in the Nicene Creed.   There are many other unsavory moments in church history.  Among them is Martin Luther’s response to a peasant’s rebellion –Against the Murderous, Thieving Hordes of Peasants. Another is the annihilation of the Cathars in France and, in general, the often violent response to those not in agreement with one particular doctrinal nuance or another.

If you put the historical reality of church history in tandem with textual or higher criticism of the Bible, it is impossible not at least consider whether the church and its foundations are things of this world, not another.   It is the frisson of doubt, strengthened by a hundred small instances that leads to faith changes, often of considerable magnitude.

“Biblical criticism is a form of Historical Criticism that seeks to analyze the Bible through asking certain questions of the text, such as: Who wrote it? When was it written? To whom was it written? Why was it written? What was the historical, geographical, and cultural setting of the text? How well preserved is the original text? How unified is the text? What sources were used by the author? How was the text transmitted over time? What is the text’s genre and from what sociologial setting is it derived? When and how did it come to become part of the Bible?”

The biggest problem though, and the Preachers research spells this out, too, is the gulf this creates between clergy and congregation.  The gulf between clergy and congregation only grows over time and it does so for some very straight forward reasons.  First, to teach others a new and especially an unpleasant truth you have to have a clear and profound grasp of it yourself.  Though the training in biblical scholarship in seminary is extensive, the actual field of information is vast.  Old Testament Ph. D.s are among the most difficult in scholarship.  At least five languages have to be mastered:  Ancient Biblical Hebrew, ancient Greek, Latin, Aramaic and Ugaritic or Akkadian.  Then are the techniques of higher criticism themselves:  literary, form-critical, historical, redactive, rhetorical, source, narrative and textual.  Not only do they have to be  learned and applied to a vast body of literature, much more than the Old Testament contains, one also has to learn the history of these disciplines themselves.

Textual criticism alone is a large field.  The Dead Sea Scrolls come into play, for example, in attempting to discern the oldest texts available for certain biblical passages, as do many other documents.  This is all in search of the oldest and therefore closest to the original text, one presumed to be more authentic for that reason.  It also involves comparing available texts against each other.

My point here is that this is a difficult body of scholarship to assimilate, let alone deploy creatively in the development of sermons once a week.  Without substantial command of the disciplines involved it, it is difficult at best to explain this material to laypeople.  This is a task fraught with tension for a clergy because each instance of information that runs contrary to biblical views received in childhood runs the risk of creating real problems in the life of the congregation.

This means that such fundamental clergy tasks as preaching and adult education often proceed from very, very different starting assumptions from that of the laity.  This makes honesty and authenticity in the ministry almost impossible.  The issue here is real and deeper than even this brief explication can suggest.  Just ask your minister.