fresh breeze of the divine
I thought this was a funny cartoon in the original. I thought it even funnier when I *modified* the spelling of one word. Reminds me of certain theological types – angels dancing on the head of a nail and all… 🙂 (Yes, I might sometimes resemble said theologians…)
“If you were called to create a creed, what would it say?” asked priest Shelly Fayette to the gathered group. “Here. Take paper and pencil, take five minutes, and write.”
Since I’d already done this exercise (see it listed here: Prayer) I chose a creative, rather than a dogmatic, route and created the haiku above. (There is an extra syllable. Oops.)
What would YOUR creed say?
“John Scotus Eriugena, the ninth-century Celtic teacher, in reflecting on the ‘seven days’ of creation in the Book of Genesis, taught that it is not a chronological account of the making of the earth. Rather, it is a meditation on the ever-present mystery of creation….and this is the desire that countless numbers of people in the Western world are becoming aware of: the desire to reintegrate our lives and our spirituality with the mystery of creation.” – J. Philip Newell, The Book of Creation: the practice of Celtic Spirituality
I remember an evening a decade ago, driving through the Van Duzer corridor in the Coast Range. I felt lost and alone. God spoke to me, saying, “Child, look around you. See the trees? See the night sky? Wrap the rich cloak of creation around you and feel my love. Anytime you feel cold and lonely, wrap yourself in the warmth of my world and know that you are loved.”
From that moment, I knew I was connected to tree and hill, stone and star via the M-brane of God, which is Spirit. To say that either I or the world around me was subject to original sin (i.e., imperfect at conception) would be to say that Spirit itself was fallen or failed.
Clear back in the ninth century, Eriugena understood this. He taught that Genesis was written to bring us into the mystery of creation, not to dictate its parameters. He saw Genesis as a parable that showed our inextricable link to creation through God’s presence which permeates all. For a millenium, Celtic spirituality (of which he was a part) embraced the holy messiness of matter – and of spirit – instead of trying to sanitize one or both by denying the innate holiness of the corporeal.
I think that’s why certain liturgical churches are seeing an upsurge in attendance by younger people. The teachings of these churches harken back to Celtic thought, embracing the earth and eschew separatism. That’s good news to a generation that wants connection with the world around it.
– whose bread never fills the stomachs of the hungry,
– whose drink never quenches anyone’s thirst,
– whose table is unfamiliar to all,
– whose roof never affords protection either to the stranger or the pilgrim,
– whose clothes never cover the naked,
– who never comes to the aid of the poor
– who mocks and derides and never ceases to persecute the poor?
A Facebook friend posted, “To my friends who consider themselves Christians: What does it mean to you to be a follower of Christ?”
My response:
It means to proclaim the good news that God is with us; to follow the example of our brother Jesus and care for the poor, the sick, the ostracized; to travel lightly through the world, caring more about our world and others than about material accumulation; to pursue peace and speak boldly against injustice; to believe that Jesus’ life is the proclamation of the good news, his death is the world’s rebellion against it, and his resurrection is God’s love shown to us even in our rebellion: Love that transcends all.
What does it mean to you? I’d love to hear your answers in the comments. 🙂
Discernment is a good thing!
I’ve been in discernment for the Episcopal priesthood for four years. The initial work was completed three years ago, but snafus and life events delayed the process. Or maybe it was the Divine, because I’m MUCH better prepared to proceed now than I was then.
Recently, we reconvened a small portion of my discernment committee. At their request, I’ve been writing about the past three years – events and studies, soul searches and emotional growth. Man, oh man, this is HARD! After a day of meditation, research and writing, I am exhausted.
But I’m also exhilarated. When we met last Wednesday, I said, “I think you guys should do this, too. It’s very enlightening!”
A new member of the committee, associate rector Shelly Fayette, noted: “In Olympia, we have regular discernment committees. But it’s not just about ordained ministry. One person may be in discernment about whether to change jobs. Another may be in discernment about whether it’s time to move a parent to an assisted living facility. Often, there is someone who is discerning a call to ordained ministry. The committee doesn’t center around one person; it’s a conversation for all.”
I think that’s a brilliant idea. Regardless of our spiritual leanings (or lack thereof) I think we can all benefit from taking time to periodically review where we are physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. To choose one item in particular to ponder and to write about. To meet with others for honest questioning and prayerful support.
I’m going to suggest the idea to my church, and I think it would work well in any community. Imagine how much more deeply we can engage our lives if we take time to discern!
In a conversation where I expressed my belief that Jesus did not ‘die for our sins’, someone responded , “Maybe people don’t need Jesus to die for their sins today, but back in Jesus’ day, things were pretty barbaric. Do you think he needed to come and die for THEIR sins?”
Interesting question. Here are my thoughts:
Living in the USA today, we may feel that people were more barbaric two thousand years ago, but I doubt the Palestinians share our opinion, or the peoples in Syria, South Sudan and other war-torn parts of world. Personally, I’m not sure the USA stands on much higher ground than the Romans of Jesus’ time, given that we still employ the death penalty. It seems our modern world has just as much need for God’s atonement.
But what IS atonement? If you look at the etymology, its original meaning was reconciliation after estrangement. It was only later that it evolved to mean making some kind of amends. In other words, payment was not initially a necessary component of atonement – the emphasis was on restoration, not remuneration.
Restoration is what Jesus understood his ministry to be about. The first time he appears publicly in his hometown, he opens the scrolls and reads,
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
In his reading, he extended God’s restoration to all (even non-Jews) without remuneration. That’s why the crowd then tried to kill him. Turns out, universal forgiveness and restoration wasn’t a popular message. It still isn’t. Even today, we insist people pay for that which is most basic to human survival – food, shelter, healthcare. Given that mindset, it makes sense that we would try to apply it to salvation, too. Then or now, we humans just don’t seem to be able to wrap our heads around the concept of ‘freely given.’
But if we didn’t need his death as atonement, then what was the point of Jesus coming at all? I think the point was Jesus’ LIFE:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life.”
It doesn’t say, “that he gave his only son to be crucified and to die.” We add that in ourselves. Jesus came – was given – to proclaim good news, news that would change the heart of both religion and politics. And that news was: God dwells among us! His message was powerful enough that it frightened, not just the Jewish leaders, but Roman ones, as well.
So they killed him. But it wasn’t the end of the story. Humanity cannot overpower God’s love, and THAT’S the message of Jesus’ resurrection. Not even death can stop God from saving the world – and us.
Many Christians have a different understanding of atonement, one that involves Jesus as a sacrificial offering, as the substitutionary Paschal lamb. That’s fine with me; it’s why I love the Episcopal Church. We can stand side-by-side with our different understanding and still be in full communion. There is no need for estrangement – we can skip straight to at-one-ment. 🙂
I begin each day with the morning service from Iona Abbey Worship Book. Today’s reading was Psalm 82, which talks about God standing and speaking in a divine assembly. God says,
“How long will you defend the unjust, and favor the cause of the wicked? Rather, defend the poor and the orphaned! Render justice to the afflicted and oppressed! Rescue the weak and the poor! Set them free from the clutches of the wicked!”
But, continues the Psalmist, the assembly “knows nothing, understands nothing. They wander about in the darkness while the world is falling apart.”
I can’t help but see that divine assembly as the assembly of Christian believers. I am horrified at those who call themselves Christian, yet defend businesses whose practices concentrate wealth, enslave people, and leave increasing numbers destitute. I don’t understand those who chastise the poor, ignoring their long work hours and desperate need.
Every morning, in the Service, I affirm “God’s goodness in humanity, planted more deeply than all that is wrong.”
I need this affirmation. I need to know that even those who wander in the darkness are at heart, good and holy. That goodness is deeper than the pain and suffering they ignore, that goodness is buried under their blindness and their apathy.
I need that assurance to give me courage to act. Because every morning, I also vow that I will not offer God “offerings that cost me nothing.” I will not relegate God, creation and my fellow humans to a secondary role and tertiary effort.
Am I successful? Most days, I feel I am not. But I strive toward that vision. God has granted me the gift of words, both written and spoken. So I speak, even if my words will not be popular. Even if they cause me to lose clients and friends. Even if they open me to a bitter volley of response from non-believers and believers alike.
It’s not much. It’s not a great cost, especially not compared to those who starve, who shiver, who suffer. God grant me vision and courage to do more.
Ariyawen 