Monday, May 31, 2010

Reflections for 5/31/10

"Sadly, I don't think most people want to be freed from their sin. We've grown comfortable with it, almost become friends with it. It pads our insecurities. We don't know how to live without it. We've lived so long with our fears, we don't know how we would e without them. We've made friends with our sinfulness. For example, we may have based our marriage on unforgiveness for twenty years. How could we change it? or maybe we love to be angry. Our anger is what drives us day after day, our anger at our father or mother, our anger at the system, our anger at our work. We live on our anger, we feed on our anger. Most of us don't want to be freed from our sin. We've lived with our darkness so long we are comfortable with it. Our lives are full of sacred cows and hot potatoes, areas where we indulge our sin. No one can touch them."(R. Rohr "Radical Grace" p. 206)

One of the hardest things to change is a sacred cow. This is true not only for an institution like a church, but is true for individuals as well.

You will know something is a sacred cow when confronting it or questioning it, causes discomfort. When it looks like something might actually change and the system pushes back, you know you've discovered the sacred cow. Perhaps another way of putting it is "addressing the elephant in the room."

When I look at myself, the sacred cow for me would probably either be gluttony or sloth. I'm sure there are others but those two come immediately to mind. I'm working on the gluttony especially around food, but the sloth feeds the gluttony. And it is very true that I find more excuses for the sloth than almost anything. Even when the proverbial light bulb goes on and I can see clearly how that behavior is hindering my ability to fully live into my potential, I find it hard to show it the door.

I probably need to fully recognize the difference between a comfortable shoe and one that has holes everywhere and is barely being held together.

Yet as I get closer to exorcising those aspects of my life, the closer I get to seeing more clearly the image of God within. I just need to keep wanting it gone, and believe that the new person that emerges will be even better.

Blessings,
Ed

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Reflections for 5/30/10

"Boys, I don't think you're ready for this yet. Just stay back there. I don't think you're ready for what's happening. You're probably going to go on another thousand years trying to explain. "this means this" and "That means that" instead of quite simply diving into the abyss, where it doesn't make a lot of sense, where there aren't a lot of answers, where there's only mystery, journey and impassioned God. God oft-times doesn't give a lot of answers but just keeps telling us who we are. God just keeps inviting us into that place where love is alive and where God is in love." (R. Rohr "Radical Grace" p. 205)

Today is "Trinity Sunday", the day when some churches celebrate the doctrine of the Trinity. A doctrine that has been articulated but never in such a way that anyone ever truly gets it.

I for one will own the Trinity from a faith statement, and can creedaly state things about it. But until I just let myself be in relationship with God, I'll never fully appreciate it.

I wouldn't say that I've found all the answers to life's problems in the Trinity, but I have found a relationship within which to work through, and even endure some of them.

The invitation from God is not an intellectual assent, but a heart felt commitment the relationship.

Blessings,
Ed

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Reflections for 5/29/10

"Experience is the only honest place to begin. Because even when we don't admit that we're beginning out of human experience, we do anyway. We begin out of our so-called first principles, but even those are planted in the experience of Italian people, German people, American people or African people, who all read it through their own eyes but don't admit it. And that's why the gospel has been so culturally trapped. We assume we've all been true to our totally objective first principles of philosophy and theology. But in fact it's all filtered through the cultural eyes, prejudices and assumptions of each country....We've got to be honest enough to admit that. Deductive theology never worked anyway except in the textbooks, and for those few who lived there. Every viewpoint is a view from a point."(R. Rohr "Radical Grace" p.202)

Experience is something everyone has. Unless you've never moved out of your cell, never watched anything but the clouds go by, you have experience. And even those drastic things are experiences themselves.

Our experiences are what I often refer to as lenses. They affect how I view the world. How I process information. There is nothing in my life that is not truly first filtered through those lenses. The lenses of course become very obvious when my experience clashes with someone else's.

How many times in your life can you recall having a heated discussion with someone. Usually based on what happened or what something means. The problem is that we don't own our biases up front, yet argue vehemently from them. Doesn't matter what the topic is, or what the decision confronting us is.

In the Anglican Communion we like to trot out our "three-legged stool" of scripture, tradition and reason. These are supposed to be the three ways we make theological decisions. One of the things I've noticed is that we ignore experience here. It has been suggested that experience is perhaps a fourth leg. I have a different thought. Most stools have a ring around the legs of the stool. Without that ring, if you sat on the stool it would collapse. Experience is that ring. I read scripture through my experience. I view tradition through my experience. All reasoning is fueled by my experience.

This is not to say that experience has the final word. However we do need to start owning our experiences before entering into deeper debates. We also need to honor the experiences of others that may be different than ours, rather than forcing them to conform to ours.

Faith for me will always be more about how I experience God, not about what I've read about God or what I think.

Blessings,
Ed

Friday, May 28, 2010

Reflections for 5/28/10

"People from privileged backgrounds expect that path always to be paved; they expect everything to work out. When it doesn't, they're not only disappointed, they feel wronged. They thin, How dare reality not work out for me! Why should I have to suffer? How dare the air conditioner not work!"(R. Rohr "Radical Grace" p. 200-201)

There's a part of me that doesn't feel privileged. Yet I know fully well that I am. While I may not be the wealthiest person in the world, and have all the latest gadgets, I'm not starving. Nor do I have work two or more jobs just to make ends meet.

I can't say that everything goes the way I would hope for me. But I've learned not to expect it either. Even if I give it my best, I may not succeed. The only consolation is that I'll know that it wasn't because of who I am.

I have to laugh at the last line, because this week the condenser in the central air conditioner died. It is of course fixable, but the "poor Zelley's" had to open the windows and use fans during those 3 days of 90+ degree weather. Having not grown up with even a window unit, I survived. But it was a good reminder that there are plenty of people in this country for whom even a fan is a luxury item.

Yes I am privileged in many ways. Obstacles that exist for others may not be in my way. The real question is am I willing to use my place of privilege to help others or only myself.

Blessings,
Ed

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Reflections for 5/27/10

"Blaise Pascal said all human evil comes into the world because people can't sit still in a chair for thirty minutes! I hope that's an exaggeration. Maybe he's saying that running from silence is undoubtedly running from our souls, ourselves, and therefore, from God."(R. Rohr "Radical Grace" p. 200)

One of the many great moments in the Bible is Elijah hiding in the cave. He comes out when he hears the sound of sheer silence. All the other stuff, earthquakes, wind, and fire, did not signal God's presence. Only silence.

At our Lay Reader meeting this month, that passage came up, and we talked about sheer silence and how that is seemingly impossible to get. As we sat in the room, the hum of the lights and the nearby refrigerator kept a level of din going.

I do believe that most of us would be very afraid of sheer silence, whether we believed that is where God is to be encountered or not. Because of that fear, we do all that we can to have some level of noise happening.

Silence is an incredibly hard discipline. So is sitting still. We live in a world that even those who have not been diagnosed as having ADHD behave as if we do. A silent retreat is still something I would not choose for myself, but when forced to do it, have found it incredibly relaxing. I will also admit that I need to be isolated from other people to pull it off.

I'm not a quiet person generally. My secular music taste is loud. Even the church hymns that I love tend to be the more bombastic. My house is not quiet either.

So it may be that with all that chosen noise, periods of self-imposed silence may be incredibly important.

I don't know how long I could truly sit still without falling asleep. I don't know that I'm running from God, with all that din. But it is not outside the realm of possibility that in fact by avoiding silence, I may be avoiding and therefore missing something truly important that needs to be heard.

Blessings,
Ed

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Reflections for 5/26/10

"Saving one's soul and falling in love with God are two very different journeys. Because we told our people to save their souls, they got into spiritual consumerism, gathering sacraments, holy works, ascetical practices-all affirming the false self. Now we've got these big Christian egos walking around, who are very self-protective, satisfied and conservative in the wrong way. Conversion is not on their agenda."(R. Rohr "Radical Grace p. 199)

"Are you saved?" Three words that I loathe being accosted by in parking lots, street corners and other public places. The problem is not that I don't know my answer to that question, I do. The answer is I am. Unfortunately I know that the inquisitor will not take that answer, because it will not allow them to tell me why I'm not.

I know why I'm saved, and I know how it happened. I also know that joining that person's church will not lead to salvation. I'm also far more interested in the journey of falling in love with God. Jesus took care of my soul on the cross, by denying that or trying to work my way into his good graces defeats and mocks the whole salvation story.

Unfortunately the churches have had to buy into the consumerist culture, we use its language and methodology instead of creating space for folks to encounter the living God and work on that ongoing love affair with God.

And the more religious stuff we can accumulate the more puffed up we become. And as churches sell their souls to a competitive business model, we fulfill scripture by biting and devouring each other.

It does feel hopeless at times living in that world. One where it has to always be about me. Instead of seeing and valuing the shared love for God that folks who claim that faith have.

Blessings,
Ed

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Reflections for 5/25/10

"Saints, like all of us, are forgiven sinners. But saints have rejoiced in forgiveness and not been overwhelmed by sin. Many of them, frankly were ignorant, biased, broken and neurotic. That gives me hope."(R. Rohr "Radical Grace" p. 198)

For a Christian a saint is supposed to be a hero of the faith, a role model for living more fully into the relationship with God.

Often we acquaint sainthood with being perfect, never doing anything wrong. That of course would not be a saint that would make you Christ. A saint is a role model primarily by showing how to accept forgiveness, how not to let sin be the final definition of who you are.

A fuller look at most of the Saints lives will show flaws. Will reveal choices that seem contradictory to what we think a saint does. Yet there's that line in the great hymn about the saints "the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one true.

The message would seem to be that in spite of our brokenness, in spite of those times when we fail to commend the faith that is in us, we are given another chance, and another and another. At times this seems unjust, certainly from a human understanding it is. But from the perspective of God, our standards aren't so divine.

Blessings,
Ed