2023.11.12 Light Stretches, Lyn G. Brakeman, Spiritual Lemons, blog post, 11/12/23

BEHOLD the American Purple Gallinule of Florida Everglades Park! This crazy lady stretches and reaches everywhere at once. Can we?  

I know that the parable of the “bridesmaids” and their “lamps” is to be an analogy for the arrival of the Heavenly Kingdom to earth, ushered in by the light carried by these girls. Some girls were ready and some were in disarray. It’s a lesson in preparedness. 

First, in the ancient world there were NO oil lamps. Also there were NO “bridesmaids,” and NO messianic “bridegroom” ever arrived to “save” the cosmos in chaos, governed by WARS, VIOLENCE, CONQUEST, AND SUBMISSION. 

Why do we pray, “Thy Kingdom Come”—over and over?  Our kingdom has not come! Neither has God’s—by the looks of it. 

The left-behind girls in this biblical parable were not prepared. There is some advice about readiness and preparedness in this story, yet who is ever “ready” for Divinity? And the God of all faith never leaves anyone behind! Not even a Gallinule!  

So let’s rethink our ways a bit. Most of us want a peaceful world. We all in our hearts want Love—of God, self and neighbor—to work, to enliven and enlighten. Everyone has slightly different recipes, rules, but how REALLY do we make a kingdom a “kindom”?

One way is for each of us to stop (all the running around), sit down (rest) and shut up (create silence).This is one way to acknowledge there is a larger, deeper Presence available to us all and in our midst.

Now begin to engage in conversations, especially with those with whom you disagree politically or religiously. Listen to yourself and to these others closely. Do this more and more. I know a story, told by a Christian thinker, Brian McLaren, of four young women friends with radically different religions, points of view, ethnicities, class, and political persuasions. They were, like the girls in the parable, each trying to figure out the best way to remain friends and bear light and peace into their war-torn world. They had to STRETCH—each and all.

"These four women did something too rare: they sat with their complexity, shared, and heard honest and vulnerable feelings. They listened across difference to express their own humanity and affirm the humanity of one another." 

Light stretches, right? 

2015.07.26 Goliath Groupers

I read something amazing recently in National Geographic, a magazine to which I don’t subscribe but one I love for its photos and its daringly graphic information. I get to read it in my chiropractor’s office and feel annoyed that she is never late, and so efficient about moving her patients along that I don’t have enough time for my magazine.

There is a fish called a Goliath Grouper. You knew this of course.

When I think of Goliath of course I remember the biblical story of the young boy David who, by dint of the Lord’s favor and a few stones, slingshots to death a huge enemy giant named Goliath. I used to think of the Church as a goliathian institution I’d never break into. Many a dream I’d have in which I was David facing one of my many “goliaths”.

Incidental trivia: the Hebrew Bible texts report Goliath's height at six cubits and a span, about nine feet, nine inches. Giant proportions, even for today's most desirable basketball team recruits. More realistic, and earlier, is the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible which measures Goliath's height at a mere four cubits and a span, seven feet, nine inches. Were the Greeks more realistic? No, just athletes, not wanting competition.

Such differences and inconsistencies ought to test my faith in biblical wisdom, and/or make me disdain the Old Testament. Instead, I'm fascinated. First, I love process that evolves. Second, I'm part Jewish, and Jesus Christ was all Jewish. We love to argue about texts. And third, I'm a woman who loves messy creative process. It's like real life; it makes me believe in the sacredness of it all because, as hard as I try, and as much as I tie my brain in knots, I can't force biblical stuff into a mold. All I can do is be wary about any claims based on the literal words of the Bible, appreciate the biblical literary composite, and love it for what it reveals to me about my relationship with God, myself, and my neighbor. That's how I can feel like David one day and Goliath the next.


But back to fish................big ones.

A Goliath is a huge saltwater fish, found in shallow waters among coral reefs, sometimes up to 8 feet and weighing 400 lbs when mature. A Floridian hauled in the record catch, 522 lbs., from his kayak as recently as May, 2015. The fish never hurt him but easily snapped his rod in half, and you should have heard his rapture: "Oh my God, holy crap, Jesus, oh God." The guy caught a Goliath and felt huge—enough to invoke God and Jesus. 

I wasn’t afraid when I saw my first Goliath Grouper because it was mounted on wood and hanging in a museum display in Boca Grande, Florida.

The Goliath swims along surrounded by thousands of little Grouper groupies swarming and never raises a fin at this disturbance. Nothing fishy here and this great Goliath is a metaphor for divine constancy.

Goliath has an extraordinary biology: it is born female and over a lifetime changes to male —without any gender reassignment. What is Nature thinking of here? Well, we know about that now in humans, don’t we? And we know God has no gender, don't we?

Years ago when I was attending a writers’ conference and staying in a hotel—on my own. Not such a big deal, but I have to tell you that one of the mornings when I was seated at my own table eating breakfast, I suddenly felt like a man. Hey, I can do this, too! I never wanted to be masculine, well maybe the Lone Ranger yelling Hi Ho Silver, galloping on a stick horse to the William Tell Overture. But I did want to be able to do some of the things men do without batting an eye. That day, for a brief minute, I felt like a traveling businessman, a professional with my briefcase, casually eating breakfast, tossing a credit card onto the bill, and feeling like Goliath. Really.

I still sometimes feel unsure of my own authority. Do I belong here? Women are priests now and still most priests are men, and “fathers” to boot. I hold my own, yet I’m tired of feeling uncertain and outnumbered. I’m immature, I say. The Church still tells women they have authority issues. I'm not alone in my Davidic feelings. But would I want to be Goliath?

The biggest fish I ever caught was from a small lobster boat in Gloucester on my son's birthday, 2012. It wasn’t a Goliath Grouper and it went back to the deep quickly at my command and with help. But in the moment I hauled that fish in and held it up, I felt as big as Goliath and David together.

2015.01.18 Images of Boca Grande

Greetings from Florida where I thought it would be warm. Well, it's warmER, but my expectations were off again. So, what's new? I'm on a tiny (10 miles long and a few wide) island called Gasparilla.

It's part of a chain of small islands, including Captiva and the more famous Sanibel, and named after a pirate of old called Gaspar, who led raids and got his name into history. The town in which this small isle is located is called Boca Grande. Its means Big Mouth in Spanish, a designation that refers to the big mouth of the Gulf of Mexico and its inlets. Thanks to the weather, I now have a Boca Grande sweatshirt— advertising my own big mouth.

Thanks to the recommendations of Google-god who spit out my name, I came to lead a women's retreat at St. Andrew's parish. We took a few vacation days as well. On this isle people get around mostly by golf cart, so we have the parish rector's cart on loan. Guess who drives?

And guess who gasps and yells slow down, STOP sign, and other harassments from the front seat?

Someone didn't charge our cart long enough, and the other someone called, "We're out of gas!" as our cart began to buck and jerk. The mate screamed back, "There is no gas; it's a battery, and I charged it!" Not long enough apparently. Nevertheless, we are grateful to the rector, the Rev. Michelle Robertshaw, who came to rescue us in her CAR, which we then could use to continue our touristic adventures while she got help to charge up the little cart. Good to go!

Here is our regular morning visitor, a scavenger. Handsome feathered fellow, well fed. And the little feral cat who, with its many buddies, all trapped, spayed and readied for their cat job of keeping the island's rat population manageable. Makes good eco-sense. Islanders are grateful and feed the cats well. They hang around restaurants purring pleasantly, a feline strategy of begging. It works. 

                                         

Fascinated with all the flora and fauna in this clime, but specially the wild and thick mangroves which keep the island safe and protected from the waters. Also the noble banyan tree, destroyed by hurricanes yet returning bigger and stronger than ever, some of the branches actually growing downward to plant roots below for another outcropping of the tree. Imagine!

Nothing is lacking, except gas stations. This the Johann Fust Memorial Library, restored, beautified by our friend, Alice Gorman, and a dedicated team and lots of generous people. It is a gift to minds, young and old. Cicero said: "If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need." True!

We fly home tomorrow to northern climes. All in all, it has been a grand visit to a very unique place, filled with retired seniors like us, but with a lot more wealth than we have—a LOT more.

Oh, the retreat.....Spirituality 101, held in a sumptuous home, quiet contrary to ascetical practice, but with a gracious hostess, lots of laughs, and poetry, and wisdom, and bright women who want to know their own soul-worth more deeply and enhance their connection to God through the work of Christ Sophia, the feminine face of the Holy Spirit. Here is St. Andrew's church—a blessing.

Nathanael asked about Jesus of Nazareth, aka the Christ: "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Philip said, "Come and see." 

I ask: Can anything good come out of a small church on a little island? Come and see!