Post Election Blues

I’m so ready to just ditch paying attention to politics and government. I’m like to go down to the beach and just let my concerns and fears just wash away. However, that would, in many ways just be a way of bowing out of loving the world. And, I feel called to love the world. It’s not easy, or fun, but it seems to be a command that I must follow. Therefore, I grapple with politics and government.

Wouldn’t it be nice…

… if winners in close races (Texas ring a bell here?) would embrace the fact about half of the population has a different agenda from the the candidate but still deserve representation and consideration? It would be such a shock to hear someone like Mr. Cruz proclaim that he would be representing the interests of the State of Texas. Instead, he proclaimed that he, and his very marginal majority had saved Texas from the likes of Mr. O’Rourke. Really? Nearly half of the voters in Texas expressed support for Mr. O’Rourke, so Mr. Cruz is saving half the state from the other half. Think about it. The same might go for the new Minnesota governor, the new Florida governor or whoever winds up as the governor of Georgia.

… if the president respected his cabinet instead of insisting on blind allegiance? I am not fond of Mr. Sessions, I don’t care for many of his policies and beliefs. But, he dared stand up to Mr. Trump in the face of bullying, character defamation and other unsavory attacks. Now, because he refused to interfere (which was the ethical thing to do — lawyers may or may not be big on morality, but there are big on ethics it seems), he has been fired. Maybe Mr. Trump didn’t really know how to pick the very best people after all. Or maybe he can’t tolerate them after all. Guess some of that depends on your definition of the very best people.

… if we all could admit when we were wrong, or disagree without having to grind the opponent into the ground? This one is hard for me. I do not suffer fools/idiots gracefully. I hate it when it turns out that perhaps I was the idiot — I do not suffer idiots gracefully. But, I respect to no end someone who puts the good of the [church | country | family | marginalized ] above their own. I can accept a lot of difference of opinion in that case.

I’m trying to form my prayer… I’ve learned my praying for patience is a bad plan. If God answers that prayer, you have to learn patience through practice. I’ve figured out that it is not fruitful to pray for others to see things my way because that might be oh so wrong, or oh so right and I don’t know which. The best I can do is pray for the light of God’s love to invade each person and that this love be recognized and accepted.

Belly of the whale

I’m terrified of deep open water. The feeling of floating helplessly above the nothing, the unexplored leaves me frozen. This was the first time I had ever been in an exihibit that lets you feel like you are seeing fish deep under the water, and I was a little shook. Looking up however, I could see the tank continued and let you see the only light source coming into the water, revealing more of this deep water. I smiled. Photo and comment by Matt Alaniz on Unsplash

Jesus says, “There’s only one sign I’m going to give you: the sign of the prophet Jonah” (see Luke 11:29; Matthew 12:39, 16:4). Sooner or later, life is going to lead us (as it did Jesus) into the belly of the beast, into a place we can’t fix, control, explain, or understand. That’s where transformation most easily happens—because only there are we in the hands of God—and not self-managing. (from Richard Rohr’s reflection this morning 21-October-2018)

Last year was a blur. Losing so many close to me — brother, mother, brother-in-law as well as one of my dogs (who had been part of my life for more than 12 years) — sent me to a place where I felt I had no control, no reassurance that the sun would rise. I wouldn’t plan anything of consequence. It seemed I had no chance to begin processing one loss before another occurred. My sister thinks I’ve handled it better than she has. Perhaps this is true, but it came only after surrendering to the grief, walking through it and basically remembering one of the lessons of Cursillo: Let go and let God. Or maybe sinking into Julian of Norwich’s “All shall be well, all manner of things shall be well.” Or the signs on walls while walking the Camino: in the end, all will be good. If it’s not all good, then it’s not the end!

The belly of the whale is dark and uncomfortable. At times the darkness might be more comfortable than the light. When one has been taken care of by the belly of the whale, then one can walk in the light again.

The Life that wants to live in me

A couple of days ago, the daily reflection from CAC (Richard Rohr and crew) included the following:

Parker Palmer, a Quaker teacher and activist whom I deeply trust, reflects on his own “further journey”:

[There are] moments when it is clear—if I have the eyes to see—that the life I am living is not the same as the life that wants to live in me. In those moments I sometimes catch a glimpse of my true life, a life hidden like the river beneath the ice. And . . . I wonder: What am I meant to do? Who am I meant to be?

That stopped me cold. Parker Palmer put in to words something that has pushed at the edges of my consciousness for forever. I have so often felt that internal struggle where I am trying so hard to live a good, proper, useful life and fit into a vision I have set up while knowing that there is actually another path that calls. Life has gotten more peaceful as I have been able to listen a bit more to the life that wants to live in me.

It’s not easy to let go of those actions and things that make me feel secure. However, those moments where I can look inside and just accept the one who is struggling to be born in me that life starts to emerge. In evangelical terms, I am born again… or maybe I just continue the process of being born again, over and over, little by little.

Pray Constantly

Some written prayers repeatedly find their way into my site and my consciousness. This one has been in my heart of late:

Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody. Helpful, but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom­—it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point swiftly. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others’ pains, but help me to endure them with patience. I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a sour old person—some of them are so hard to live with and each one a crowning work of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.

Amen.

Let those who have ears…

I admit that I struggle with “the Church” and with the apparent ideologies of parts of the church that I deal with… like the Cursillo Movement. I admit that I struggle to be inclusive, to remember and love these entities that I struggle with, even when we diverge on interpretation, or when I feel like I have moved on and I have shed some of these ideas. I admit that at times I do think I am more advanced or a bit superior. I’m not, when I look closely and honestly at myself, but I do struggle with those tendencies.

Last night I listened to a couple of talks at a Cursillo School of Leaders. These were well done, and well researched. The women who happened to be talking had put time, effort and thought into these presentations, and both admitted that the preparation had caused a change of mind and/or heart in themselves.

I listened to the words and a couple of things struck me:  First, I was hearing with different ears. Same words, but very different meanings to me. That means I heard things I had never heard before, even if I had heard the same words proclaimed. One of the ideas that has been voiced is about being fully human. I’ve mouthed those words, but mostly they were a mystery to me. I hear words about “something superior to this world” and I bristle… until I begin to understand that what I seek is superior in as much as it is more, beyond, a unity of the physical world we see (and touch and hear) and the Spirit  or power that animates not only humans but all the world. A unity in the universe.

The other thing that struck me was the simplicity of “method” talk and how the speaker shared her journey toward a better understanding of “the method.” She talked about “Make a friend, be a friend, bring that friend to Christ” and how the goal was “Bring a friend to Christ” not “Bring a friend to Cursillo.” That might happen that one would bring a friend to a Cursillo weekend, and that would probably be a good thing, but that is not the goal. Even before that, she reflected on what it means to make a friend and be a friend. I kept hearing the words to an old song “What a friend we have in Jesus…” as she spoke.

I’m listening with new ears. I’m hearing the same words and moving to a different understanding. If I truly believe that God is everywhere and in everything/person/creature/plant/situation, and that the same holds for the Body of Christ, then I’m approaching this idea of sharing the Good News differently. I only need to witness to the Love that is Lord of Heaven and earth and be led by that light. I don’t need to judge. I don’t need to worry that someone else is responding incorrectly. I can let go of the need to be “right.”  I am free to evaluate the results of actions without judging the person.

Maybe those are the ears Jesus was referring to… for now, I’m going with that.

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