by Liz | Feb 13, 2010 | main
In her post this morning, Maintaining Wide Boundaries, Susan reflects on the views of an Episcopal bishop on the belief that it is better to have a few heretics in church than to push people out. The goal is to keep people in dialogue and therefore keep alive the possibility of conversion and allow God’s love to work. And that conversion, to me, seems to be something that can happen on either or both sides of disagreement.
In the past, I have felt “pushed out.” In reality, I did move from one parish to another by my choice, but that choice was tempered by a strong, painful sense of being pushed to the door and having it held open for me. It was driven by a need to find a home where I felt welcomed, even when I wasn’t necessarily agreed with. In the long run, it was “a good thing” — and my new home opened many doors and paved the way for a deeper understanding of God’s love. Eventually, with this support, I could make my peace with the other community. I could be transformed and forgive. It took a long time, but seldom, it seems does real conversion happen in an instant. It is a process.
And process is what I see the Bishop talking about. I have watched and listened as members of my family, who are members of the Episcopal Church, have made their own way through the upheavals in their church. I am always impressed when I see them love their church, even when they are concerned. I see them struggle to understand the way that others live out their faith. They love their community, warts and all. They are transformed in their own struggle.
Thanks Susan — I needed to read this reflection this morning.
by Liz | Feb 11, 2010 | main
Todays gospel (Mark 7:24-30) has always bothered me. It relates the story of a gentile woman, a mother, who begs Jesus to banish the unclean spirit from her daughter. And Jesus answers, initially, that it’s not right to give the food for the children to the dogs. After she pursues the request, stating that even the dogs get to eat the crumbs that fall at the children’s feet, he sends her on her way with the child having been healed.
This just doesn’t fit into my image of Jesus or God. Sorry. I know that God doesn’t have to fit my image, but really – this just strikes me as so far off the mark. Is it just showing that Jesus, too, was having to grow in understanding of God’s Love? Is it there to remind us that each one has the responsibility to point out truth to the powers that be? I don’t know.
What I do know is that it eats at me. This vignette forces me to look beyond simply because it seems so very wrong and out of place. Hence, I do ponder the idea that it could be illustration that everyone, even the Christ, must grow in God’s Love — that we don’t start with the full picture, and probably never have the full picture. I ponder whether it is meant [at least for me] as a reminder that instruction and insight can come from the most unexpected quarter. This woman was an outsider, a stranger, not one of the blessed, ordained bearers of Truth. And yet, she proclaims Truth – maybe from wisdom, maybe from desperation, maybe from selfishness. But, she fights for what she knows to be needed and knows to be True. And her child is saved.
I live in hope that I will both listen and speak when I know it has to be done.
by Liz | Feb 10, 2010 | main
Two weeks ago, I traded in the Miata for a far more practical, roomy Venza. I can now tote both my guitar and a passenger… I can handle more than a single passenger… it’s quiet inside (convertibles are not very quiet)… I can use my iPod in the car. And yet, despite all these good things, and the fact that nobody leaned on me to do it, the day after, I cried.
Breaking up is hard to do. Especially breaking up with a piece of yourself. My inner anguish gave me the chance to ponder: just what was I leaving behind? Why did it hurt? Just what was the problem with trading cars?
I enjoyed the relationship with my little red sports car. A Miata is not a ride that has “MOM” emblazoned down the sides. It lets you feel the road in a good way. It offers a sense of being in touch and controlling the trip. It speaks of a certain Joie de vivre! and freedom from reasonableness that I really need to be in touch with on a regular basis. So much of who I think I am is tied up in what I think others want and expect of me — I’m a wife, a mother and a grandmother, a church musician, a person who held essentially the same job for more than 25 years. My Miata let me break away from some of those expectations.
This is good to know about myself. After 2 weeks, and a day trip to Birmingham in the new ride, I’m really comfortable and pleased with it. It still feels over-large, true. But, now that I’ve had a chance to reflect on why it was so hard to move from the old to the new, I think perhaps I can keep some of myself that I found in the Miata and move on to something new without folding and feeling like I gave in to convention.
And, I no longer have a close up view of the lug nuts on an 18-wheeler as I make my daily rounds.
by Liz | Feb 8, 2010 | main
Yesterday’s readings (5th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Isaiah 6:1-2.3-8, First Corinthians 15:1-11, Luke 5:1-11) reinforced for me the understanding that God takes the first step. Fr. Jack wandered into the memories, for Cradle Catholics, of confession as a child: 7 year old knew they were sinners – Sister told them so. I didn’t have this experience – but as a child in calvinist protestant tradition, I certainly got the message that if you did something wrong, God would get you. It has taken me a whole lot of growth to understand that it is entirely possible to look at someone who is a total mess, who has made a real hash of life, and still feel in the bottom of my heart – ” I love you!” and offer the words, hug and smile to make that understood.
As I listened to the readings, and the homily, I just kept hearing that the characters (Isaiah, Paul, Peter and his buddies) only really understood how far off the mark they were until God/Jesus reached out and touched them first. Especially Isaiah and Paul were fine until they found themselves face to face with the Ultimate Reality. Both pull back — stay away! I’m not good enough! and God says – “I love you. Now, go out and tell the world!”
Br. David Steindl-Rast (Gratefulness.org) would prefer to use the terms “belonging” and “separation” instead of “salvation” and “sin.” I quite agree. When we see perfection, we realize our imperfections – and our separation. Sinfulness. Then, and maybe only then, can we be drawn into belonging and wholeness. It’s a bit like a Twelve Step program: before you even get to step 1, you have to somehow be aware that there is a different way to live.
It’s not enough to stop with the realization that life can be different. It’s easy to be paralyzed by that, true. But, God calls me to accept the Love and myself, and move on – set out on the road – get on with a mission. Use it or lose it!
by Liz | Feb 5, 2010 | main
Yesterday I went home at lunchtime not feeling great. Thought I’d lie down and nap for a few minutes. How did that work? I woke up 3 hours later, still not feeling so great.
As I would wake up briefly at intervals yesterday, I found these words always rolling through my mind (from Bernadette Farrell’s Oh God, You Search Me and You Know Me)
When I walk or lie down You are beside me…
In every moment of life and death You are
Actually very comforting on a rainy, grey afternoon when your whole body is aching and your stomach is doing flip-flops. Perhaps this is a glimpse of praying always. To wake up and realize that in every moment of life and death, God Is.
It’s a glimpse at YAHWEH – or I AM.
Good to remember.
by Liz | Feb 4, 2010 | main, Reading List
I just finished Anne Rice’s Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt a couple of days ago. An interesting read. I’m not sure I would have derived the same story were I writing a fictional recollection of this period of the life of Jesus of Nazareth, but she does a wonderful job of giving insight into what it is like to begin to discover oneself… especially as a child. And especially as a child where people are reticent to give you some of the information.
It’s quite hard to explain — the best thing is to read it yourself and ponder how each of us learns who we are from within and without.
