Lenten Blog – Day 11 – Let the Power Struggle Begin

Luke 13:31-35

At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, ‘Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.’  He said to them, ‘Go and tell that fox for me, “Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.  Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed away from Jerusalem.”  Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!  See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” ’

At some point my mother wanted me to become a priest.  I don’t know exactly when, but she’d pepper our conversations with it enough that I knew what she wanted.  Just like little Ralphie wanting a “Red Ryder BB Gun,” I knew my mom would like me to become a priest.  And in the Episcopal Church I could still give her grandchildren.

In the Episcopal Church we use something called a Lectionary.  Each Sunday an Old Testament Reading is read, a psalm, or portion of a psalm (depending on how long it is) is read and then a reading from the New Testament.  After that, the Priest in charge reads a reading from the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke & John).  The people who created the Lectionary where all the readings can be found tried to find a common theme or thread that runs through them all.  Sometimes it works great.  Sometimes you’re left scratching your head.

The Priest then preaches on the readings of the day.  Typically a priest will focus on the Gospel reading but he, or she, can pick-and-choose from the four what they want to talk about.  And, again, since they’re SUPPOSED to all be in common (kinda) hopefully they’ll inform each other.

During Lent, I’m taking the Gospel reading for the Sunday and am going to write about it (kind of like a sermon).  This will take up one of my 40 blogs!  Oh boy!  One more down just another couple dozen to go:

It’s an election year in the United States and Social Media and television networks are ablaze with political news.  Speeches, sound-bites, seemingly endless debates, town halls, call-ins, Twitter messages, it goes and goes ad nausea.

In this work-a-day world of 24-7 news feed and social media it is very difficult to just turn your back on the political machine.  Michelle, my daughter, has said though that she “doesn’t pay attention to it.”  I wish I could say the same thing, sometimes.

This reading from Luke reminds me that the struggle that takes Jesus to Calvary and his eventual death and resurrection is based on a political struggle.  The story of Christ from the virgin birth to his resurrection seems to lose some luster by referring to it as a political revolution, but in many ways, that’s what it was.

In this reading we see the Pharisees basically giving Jesus a:  “Hey, dude, cut that out or the mayor’s going to be pissed.”  And Jesus saying right back:  “Nah.  I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing and you can go back and tell him that.”  But then Jesus says:  “Still…I’m going to take my leave for a bit and I’d love to be able to help all the people you’re not helping.  So, guess, what I’LL BE BACK!  And then you’ll see!”

Jesus has, basically, thrown the gauntlet down and you can bet that Herod didn’t take the news too well.

This is just one of many scriptures where Jesus challenges the status quo.  I almost see Jesus holding up a “Jewish Lives Matter” sign in this moment when talking to the Pharisees and, of course, once he’s away from the city, what is Herod to do but wonder about this “miracle worker” and his desire to bring all people under his wing?  Is Jesus amassing an army?  Is Jesus going to come back with (figuratively) guns blazing?  Jesus is basically calling out the authority and you can bet your hat that if this was the USA today, he’d be on some watch list somewhere.

Still – what are we to make of Jesus and this struggle against a corrupt authority?  How does it inform our own struggle against authority?  How do we afflict the comfortable while comforting the afflicted?  Can we, you, me, I, spend part of these 40 days wondering about our own political structure and see how it deals with those that Christ seemed so very concerned:  The poor, the sick, the dying, the old, the marginalized, the hated, the weird, the different, the “other?”

If we look at Jesus’s journey through these 40 days as an act of a political revolution that would eventually lead to his death (and his resurrection) – how does that change Lent for you?  Or does it?

Lenten Blog – Day 10 – Getting Back to Basics

The body of Cheryl DeBoer was found in a culvert quite a ways from where her car was parked.  The search for her had gone on for five or six days.  As I walked to and from the transit center her poster was on walls, people handed out little photos from her, in the pouring rain a command center was set up in the library parking lot.  Friends and family had mobilized to find her.  She was found and she was dead.

Nick dated a girl named “T” for a while.  She was active in the theatre at the High School.  She was more “crew” than “cast” and she was cool.  A very nice girl.  Our house was kind of the “hub” during Nick and Michelle’s high school years and we enjoyed many an evening of teenagers hanging out, watching TV, playing video games – doing teenagery stuff.  “T” hung out, too, but not as much as the others.  Her family was into sports, soccer mostly, and they often had games or practices to go to.  We didn’t get to know her, or her family, very well.

Something had happened.  “T” had gone to school but she had not come home.  Her car was found a few blocks from the school and her cell phone was used but when pressed, it was used by some kids that found it.  “T” was missing and no one knew where.

Panic struck and everyone was looking for her.  Friends and family scattered out.  E-mails were searched, postings were read, the story of her missing was published on-line.  Miriam was called by a local news reporter wanting information that Miriam couldn’t give her.

Police were, obviously, called.  Day turned to night and she was still gone.  Nick slept by his phone and answered all questions asked of him.  Miriam didn’t sleep.

At this point I was stage managing a play in Everett “Enchanted April” and I was already going to miss the final weekend of the play to go to my father’s half-funeral in upstate New York.

“T’s” Mother was out-of-town in D.C. with her younger sister and “T’s” father had other commitments dragging him away from the home.

As 24 hours slowly turned into 48 hours, we were asked to “hang out” at the house for any news.  The hope was that wherever “T” was, she’d return home and someone needed to be there.

Even though we were getting closer to opening night of the play my brain couldn’t go really beyond where “T” was and what was going to happen next.  Would we be putting up posters?  Would she be on the evening news?  How long until the tide turns from missing to potentially dead to actually dead?  You don’t want to go there, you don’t even want to be within a couple blocks of there but what if…?

As I was calling cues and hovering around my “corner” of the stage, Miriam called me.  “T” had been found.  Alive.  She was in a small room in the house how and when she got there, no one knew.  When discovered she had no idea who Nick, or her friends, were.

From what we pieced together, “T” was under some major stress as her grades weren’t where they should be and she needed to do quite a bit of work to overcome the bad grades.  When she had gotten to the school or was done (I can’t remember) she blacked out into something that might be referred to as “Dissociative Amnesia.”

http://www.webmd.com/mental-health/dissociative-amnesia

In layman terms:  Her brain snapped.  And, “poof,” four years were suddenly gone.

I rushed home to be with Nick and Miriam and, though Nick and “T” went to their prom, it was obvious that their relationship could not recover.  A few weeks before this all happened, Nick and “T” and Karin (Nick’s lovely wife) went down to a place called Gasworks Park and Nick’s friend took photos of the three of them goofing off.

You may be asking, and rightly so, how this relates to Lent.

Well – in those hours where “T” was gone, I realized later how everything returned to the basics.  None of the “stuff” that takes up so much of our mind space:  Sports, Theatre, Writing, TV Shows, Work, etc. meant nothing.  And part of Lent is realizing the importance of the real world and the real stuff and what really, truly, matters:  Friends, Family and Faith.  Enough of the BS that fills our life and adds a layer (or ten) between what we think is important and what is truly important.  When the potential of death is on the line life goes down the root basics of survival.

When you spend 40 days wrestling with your own mortality and, in a way, God – then maybe it’s time to get back to basics.

Lenten Blog - Day 9 - The God Monologues

The Vagina Monologues is made up of a varying number of monologues read by a varying number of women. Each of the monologues deals with an aspect of the feminine experience, touching on matters such as sex, love, rape, menstruation, female genital mutilation, masturbation, birth, orgasm the various common names for the vagina, or simply as a physical aspect of the body. A recurring theme throughout the piece is the vagina as a tool of female empowerment, and the ultimate embodiment of individuality.

It all started with a comment from Jason to Eric and then it blew into something else entirely. A bit of background first:

Jason was a devout Jehovah’s Witness during our high school years. Eric was a good Roman Catholic and I was, and still am, the Episcopalian.

I can’t remember HOW it all got started, just know that it got started because at this point in our lives, Jason calls himself an Atheist and/or non-believer while Eric is still the Roman Catholic and I’m still the Episcopalian. Suffice it to say Eric made a comment about God or religion and Jason commented back and the debate was ON!

In THIS corner you have an ex-communicated Jehovah’s Witness-now Atheist and in THAT corner you have Roman Catholic Eric. Refereeing this match is Matt - the milquetoast Episcopalian who wants everyone to just love each other and get along.

As this on-line debate grew, others started to chime in. Some with strong Christian beliefs, some with no beliefs whatsoever. Some who had a deep faith now no longer, some who were questioning. This debate lasted a few days (weeks?) and spanned some thousands of back and forth comments.

Was anything resolved at the end? Did Jason suddenly decide to pay attention to the Pope. Did Eric renounce “Vatican 2 - Now More Vaticany!” I don’t think so. But the exercise enabled the brain synapses to work and that’s, typically, a good thing.

What I ended up with was an idea for a stage play called “The God Monologues.” Fascinated by people and their relationship with God, or not, I wanted to collect stories from all around the country from all walks of life. Both from people who have found God and how and why and what having God in their life means to them and those who have rejected God or feel that God has not part in their life and why and how not having God in their life means to them.

The plan was to collect these stories and put on a stage play. Jason bought in, my friend Cami bought in and we pulled in some people who actually know something about putting on a play. Jason created an AMAZING website and we put out the call for stories. This was going to be our “bread and butter” the content for the actual play.

Using Social Media and other avenues the call went out. As the stories came in, though, I was surprised. The ratio of “has no relationship with God” to the “has a relationship with God” was about 8 to 1. I assumed we’d be more evenly split.

The other problem was that the stories about no relationship were actually very intense and heartfelt and, in some ways, heart breaking. Whether it was escaping from a cult, an abusive relationship with their “Christian” family, their struggle to deal with massive amounts of guilt due to their sexuality or upbringing, etc. Whereas the stories about people having relationships with God amounted almost entirely to: “God loves me, so I love him.” Or “I was raised in the church and....cool.”

Conflict creates stories and if there’s little or no conflict - there are little if no stories.

It was vitally important from Day One that the stories we get were true. We didn’t want to just make stuff up but we also wanted a core balance. If we had ten “non-believer” stories, I wanted ten “believer” stories. I didn’t want to be accused of pushing a certain belief (or non-belief - even though I’m a believer) because we weighed certain stories more than others. In fact, if we were to ever have finished/created this play, I would almost want it down to the minute just so if someone came up to me afterward and said: “Well, geeze, I think you really pushed the non-believer stories” - I could honestly say: “We had ten stories each, the non-believer stories took up 48 minutes, the believer stories took up 47 minutes.”

As the non-believer stories filled the website we then started approaching people who were believers directly and, surprisingly, what came back was that some feared they would, a. be made fun of or b. be challenged on what they believed and how they got there.

We assured them that neither would happen but, alas, we never got a good enough ratio and the play has been put on indefinite hold.

Every so often I get a hankering to put it back out there. Or just start doing research and finding true stories out on the internet and use those, changing the names as needed.

Maybe someday.

Lenten Blog – Day 8 – Denial – Not Just a River in Egypt

I don’t do denial well.  I like things.  Stupid things like DVD movies and not just really good classic films but really REALLY bad movies.  I rationalize that I learn more about film making from watching “The Room” or “Manos Hands of Fate” than I do watching “The Avengers” or “Gone with the Wind.”  Watching films with enormous budgets is like watching David Copperfield perform illusions.  They’re so spectacular that you’re just blown away.  Watching films not made well on very little budgets is like watching a magician just starting out.  You see the strings, you see the sleight-of-hand, you can easily figure out how the trick is done – and in the same breath – say “I can do it better.”

When I started my work-out routine I immediately gave myself an “off” day.  A day that if I wanted to hit the buffet or go out to lunch with friends or just gorge on a big plate full of calories, I could do so.  Even now as I continue to work out, I don’t do so much so I can lose weight or stay in shape – it’s so I won’t feel guilty eating handfuls of M&Ms or 7-11 Hot Dogs (slathered in “chili” and “cheese”).

As Lent approaches I go through the:  “Should I not eat chocolate?”  “Should I fast?”  “Should I deny myself things that I like?”  And to what end?  Do I take the 15 seconds from eating a handful of peanut M&M’s and use that 15 seconds to pray?

When our church used to share our space with a Greek Orthodox mission we learned that the Greek fast on Sunday mornings.  They want their first food to be the body and blood of Christ.  Recently I’ve picked this up.  Not so much that I’m trying to fast but eating breakfast on the weekends is out of my routine.  Monday thru Friday I’m sucking down a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios at 5:50 a.m.  Saturday and Sunday?  I’m out of that routine.  Still – if you want to call it a fast – have at it.  I don’t call it that because I’m not reflective in that.  Maybe I should be.  Maybe I should take the 10 minutes of food stuffage and be more cognizant of those in the world who are starving but then translate that into…?  To me, if you’re going to deny yourself something that you feel is possibly destructive or not that good for you (Dark Chocolate and Red Wine are healthy for you – by the way) then what are you taking on?  What is filling that gap?  What is bringing you closer to God or closer to a healthier and happier you?

Knowing that I don’t do denial well, in the past few Lents I’ve chosen to take on things.  One year I attempted to do nice things for my co-workers without them knowing.  One year I messaged three friends on Facebook per day telling them how awesome they are.  One year I posted random inspirational memes.  Look, I didn’t say they were the BEST ideas but it was important to me that whatever I did took actual thinking and time (things I don’t often do well).  I’ve even tried to the read the bible daily – imagine that!

Lastly, if I choose to deny myself something, I keep it to myself.  There’s an old joke:  “How do you know the person is a Vegan?  Don’t worry, they’ll tell you.”  If I choose to deny it should be a personal thing between me and God.  Not a “woe is me, I can’t drink beer!” moment to share on Social Media.

However you choose to approach Lent, go for it (unless you’ve chosen to NOT go for it, then don’t).

Lenten Blog - Day 7 – “Our Father who art in…”

Words have meaning.  Or why would I be writing this?  It might as well be a streaming line of gibberosicity and if you can wrap your brain around that word, even made up words have meaning.  But when I say the words “Father” or “Mother” those words not only have meaning, they also have weight to them.  It’s one thing to look up the clinical definition of the word “father” or “mother” but it’s quite another to actual BE them.

As you’ve already known through the first few Lenten blogs I’ve been focusing on God and Relationships and my constant struggle between the anthropomorphic (God with white beard in the clouds pulling switches and pushing buttons) and a more abstract almost unimaginable “other” that exists and that we all live into and around.  Kind of like George Lucas’s “The Force” (except when he decided to screw it all up by bringing in something called the “midiclorians” or some such crap like that in Episode One).

Now most people reading this can probably parse the two out no problem.  My mother to whom God helps find parking spots and still has time to watch over the world.  And some discard any concept of God, or existence thereof.  I can’t NOT think that there’s something beyond all this.  That there’s more to life and existence that skirts the unknown and skips down byways of rainbows and lollipops and puppies run free on pristine fields of grass.  And then trying to live into that.

Still, I struggle and part of that struggle is just the words we use in our church (and many churches out there).  Even atheists who probably have barely stepped foot inside a church know the “Lord’s Prayer.”  And many could probably recite it.  But even the Lord’s Prayer I find problematic in simply the first two words:  “Our Father…”

Because the word “Father” has so much weight to it.

Other than the first 9 months of my life, I’ve spent probably two entire months with my father (died in 2007).  Though I loved my father, we were estranged near the final couple years of his life.  He wanted me to leave the Episcopal Church due to their stance on gays and I told him no.  Things went downhill from there.  My mother left my father when I was an infant due to him having an affair and being verbally and mentally abusive.  Later in his life he had obviously become a hoarder and probably wasn’t altogether “there” any more.

My step-father and I got along okay, until he kicked me out of the house when I was 18.  Once I moved out and got married our relationship became more stabilized until a massive heart attack took him away in early 1988.

When it has come to “fathers” – for me – it has been a bit of a crap shoot.

Now, sure, we can take the word “Father” from the Lord’s Prayer and reinterpret the wording and go back to the ancient text and maybe in Greek it’s “Abba” which means something entirely different than the guy who, hopefully, tossed a ball with you and showed you how to use a power drill…but the word is there and, like I said, that word carries weight.

And as much as I struggle with it, I wonder how people who have been abused by their father deal with it.  Or were abandoned by their father.  Or watched their father do terrible things to their mother.

Seeing how I was brought up.  And understanding the relationship dynamic (as best I can) of Father to Child – I try my best to be the best father I can be.  To live into (and up to) a concept where the word “father” isn’t weighted down with absenteeism or abuse or confusion or nothing much at all.

There isn’t a lot in this life I take seriously, but being a father is one of those things for I want my children and my children’s friends to say to themselves:  Matt’s an okay father.

I can live with that and hopefully into that.

Lenten Blog - Day 6 - Images of God

In the silent film of “Ben Hur” the film makers didn’t know how to portray Christ.  So when Christ would show up they didn’t show his body.  What you got was an arm of “someone” preaching the Sermon on the Mount.  How you knew it was Christ was because his arm would glow white.

Later in the film, as Ben Hur witnesses Christ’s walk to Calvary, he gets close to Christ and you know this due to the fact that Ben is awash in glowing white light.  It more so appears that some crew member is bouncing the sunlight off a mirror and shining it on the actor’s face.  Still, this is the light of Christ and I’m fine with that, but couldn’t get over the fact that this is how the film makers chose to portray Christ.  I just image this glowing ghost like person walking around Jerusalem.  Maybe coming into a house at night and someone saying:  “Jesus, dude, can you tone down the brightness a bit, we’re trying to sleep.”

But this just proves that FOREVER we’ve struggled with the image of God.  Is he the “old guy in the clouds” as portrayed in Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel painting or is he something more abstract?

When I was attending Confirmation class the priest asked us to come up with our images of God.  If I remember right, I created a cloud and in the center of the cloud was the word God and coming out from that were words like love and peace and kindness or something.  I can’t remember what other people’s images were as I was a self absorbed teenager (not that I’m not self absorbed 51 year old).  As we all described our images of God, the Priest, if I remember right said:  “You’re all correct.”  So is it simply that our God is just an offshoot of what we’ve grown to learn through years and years of up- bringing and experience?

So maybe my mother’s image of God as a Powerful all helpful being can still spare a few minutes to find us a parking space.

But then what happens when my image of God clashes with those who have no image, or image is one of anger, frustration and retribution?  More of an “Old Testament” God?

If the differing images of a handful of teenagers going through puberty and adolescence can be deemed as “correct” by the priest could not the images of a fire-and-brimstone-all-gays-should-be-put-to-death-and-women-should-know-their-place God of a fundamentalist preacher also be correct?

And what of the glowing Jesus?  We know through history that Jesus was a Jew from the Middle East which means he was dark skinned with black hair.  Not the Max Von Sydow, Willem Defoe, lilly-white baby Jesus we see so much portrayed in Christmas cards and Renaissance paintings and sculptures.

For me, I attempt to look at all the books of the bible in the context of what was going on at the time and who they were being written for.  But then my image of God is shaped by the works and teachings of Jesus and his focus and passion and ultimate sacrifice.

I hazard to guess my image of God hasn’t changed all that much since I was 14 or 15 years of age.  I still believe that God is “other” and focused on love and peace and reconciliation and forgiveness.  For some reason that “fits” with me.  For some of  you reading this, it might be that you think I’m “confused.”  Or that my image is faulty or incorrect or silly. 

***shrug***

I’m okay with that.

Lenten Blog - Day 5 - Relationships - Part 2

It was a small metal clasp.  No bigger than an inch in size.  It was a clasp that wasn’t much of a clasp, think small aluminum rectangle.  What it was used for was to hold together tightly a pair of tongs.  To “open” the tongs, you’d slide the clasp down to the end, to close the tongs so they’re not in “sprung” position, you move the clasp up.  Now, to keep the clasp in place, it was small enough and tight enough to not go beyond the larger end of the tongs.

Note the little claspy thing around the base of the tongs.

That thing.

Well...that was the idea.  Over the years, and through usage, maybe the clasp gets to be a little too big.  Or maybe the end gets a little too small?  Whatever the case may be, the clasp fell off at camp and into the dirt and now the tongs were in perpetual “sprung” position.  Difficult for us to store in our utensil holder and now, pretty much, worthless.  Oh, sure, they could still be used and we could wrap them in a rubber band but that took time, energy and a rubber band.  Losing that little clasp into the dirt was frustrating, to say the least.  And lead to conversations:  “Have you seen the clasp?  Did it fall off on the table?  What did you do with the tongs?  Where’d that clasp go?  Etc.”

My mother, over hearing this conversation, did what she normally does in this situation:  She prayed for it.  She prayed for God to, somehow, make that clasp appear so our beloved aluminum tongs that have been in the family for years would work properly again.

I struggle, as I’ve talked before, about the anthropomorphic image of God and the God that I believe in isn’t one who is going to stop what he’s doing and suddenly make a small aluminum clasp appear.  Or, another one of mom’s favorites prayers, a parking spot.  I’ve remembered many times over the years when we’d drive downtown how my mom would pray for a parking place to appear.  If you somehow believe that God is all powerful and all knowing and surrounding us and binding us and cradling us in his grasp and making our pathways straight and knows our past, present and future - are you sure he’s that concerned with making sure that we find a decent parking spot?  Or a metal clasp?  Aren’t Syrian refugees or terrorists acts or dying children a little more important than making sure we find a two hour parking spot as opposed to a “load and unload only during the hours of 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.” parking spot?  Obviously, to my mother, and her relationship with God those are not mutually exclusive.  God can both watch over the poor and hungry and downtrodden and suffering while also sparing a few moments to encourage someone to leave the store a couple minutes early so we’d find a prime parking spot when we’d turn the corner.

What kind of relationship is that?  And as much as this is standard operating procedure for my mother, it doesn’t fit into my mind set.  But is praying to watch over my family members, or praying to lessen the suffering of one who is sick, or praying for outright healing any  more crazy than praying for an aluminum clasp so our tongs can close?

Do you believe in a God that can heal but not be a parking lot assistant?  Do you believe in a God that is all knowing and all powerful and actively involved in all aspects of the world, but small enough to care that you don’t waste too much gas looking for a parking spot?  Can those be mutually exclusive?  Can they be one-in-the-same?

Does it come back down to your image of God?

By the way, we never found the aluminum clasp.  Maybe God had something better to do?