My son John quipped the other day, “Where is John the Baptist when we need him?”
(Today happens to be on the liturgical calendar to remembering the beheading of John the Baptist, the biblical prophet who organized the people around sin, repentance and a new way of life. Good idea, not good for the powers of his day who preferred the status quo: despair and poverty for the 99%, power, money and isolation for the 1% with the egos.)
Let’s get organized! hollered John the Baptist. I think I shouted that to my young family, or if I didn’t I thought it loudly. It seemed to me that in our family of six we needed to find a way to go in the same direction at the same time at least once a day—other than to bed.
I wonder if Godde conjured that divine thought in Her mind just the instant before the firmament split-seconded out of control and Creation burst through—disorganized as hell.
Well, my family never did get organized much—except in heart. We managed to stay in love despite internecine wars, divorce, suffering, geography, illness, alcoholism, sex, and even religion. We kept the vision of each other’s faces in heart and mind and memory. We occupied each other.
Occupiers recently occupied their vision of economic justice with their bodies. They sat down and stood for the shear voicing of truth. AND I want them to get organized so that voice won’t fade out and whoosh off like so much sage brush in the desert. I want them to keep screaming like John Baptist. I want them to influence voters who have privacy in voting booths to vote, not according to external ideologies but according to their highest values and their spirituality— especially women who may be afraid to stray from the “herd” or think that they are better off kept in a patriarchal world.
To be blunt I want them to vote for the vision they occupied. Republicans right now are organizing around a vision that compartmentalizes and categorizes human beings, envisioning an either/or nation, and excluding those who don’t fit their criteria. Some Christians agree. I shudder.
President Obama envisions a both/and, bipartisan nation, organized and occupied by all for all.
He could use a little more John the Baptist chutzpah but his vision bears my spirituality and will get my vote.
* * * * * * *
What about ORGANIZED RELIGION? — which is currently thought heinous.
The early seekers and followers of divinity realized there was more to this messy life than human effort. So they organized themselves and drew a community together to worship a Mystery they couldn’t know except by faith. Awestruck and wonderstruck they uttered prayers. It all began in astonishments and a vision.
And then they organized, the inevitable next step to preserve what they held most dear. This is true for families, nations and religions.
Of course organization can kill if it gets encrusted in mere habit and when it isn’t occupied by flesh and blood and soul. Let’s face it: Love, by its nature, is impossibly disorganized. But not abandoned if the people keep hold of the vision: love, peace, justice and equity for all earth.
So I want our church and our nation to re-organize, to re-occupy a vision of common good, love divine and human, sacred and secular.
So where IS John the Baptist when we need him?
Showing posts with label Organized Religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Organized Religion. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
2012.01.29 Holy Spirit...How Does She Do It?
I heard an unusual comment recently, a compliment to the rector of a neighboring parish from one of the parishioners. The woman said, “He’s great. He’s not a pulpit hog.”
I also heard from a woman priest colleague that it was nice to see girls on the altar, not dancing of course, at a notably conservative patriarchal parish that’s trying to be more open. My friend has also been invited to preach and celebrate there.
And then I heard from a colleague woman priest and friend that the bishop who had 35 years ago turned me down for ordination had told her that being against the ordination had been the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
These tiny epiphanies felt hopeful that the Church will continue to chip away at patriarchy and full inclusion of every person in the worship and politics of the institution. Am I delusional?
Make no mistake the current political field in this country is NOT about just the economy, it is about women—keeping them in their traditional places, or not. You could even say barefoot and pregnant and confined to a role. The climate is contentious around money (who has it all and who gets to keep it all) and misogyny, or is it gynephobia. Kept money and kept women. The way out of a deadlock I think is to empower women to make their own choices and to exercise their own gifts for the common good, family and beyond. The progressive Church, oddly, is doing better than the government.
I’m firmly committed to the idea that as many different voices as possible should grace ALL our "pulpits" and altars and podiums. It builds community, neighborliness and peace. Christians are far from uniform in their styles of worship, politics, and theology. We desperately need to talk. We need to cut through assumptions and get to know who we really are. We only live next door for heaven’s sake.
I’ve been trying to promote such connections for years including interfaith ones. The miles between us are short but the walls are thick and so parochial it’s shocking.
I tell you I do wonder how Holy Spirit, She whom I call Sophie, works things for the best even when it all looks lousy and hopeless to us.
But She is a mysterious masseuse of relational connective tissues. And you know how long it takes those muscles and joints to loosen up and let go—and then pop back tight, over and over. It’s worse than muscles to get people to let go, and even worse with religious people.
Get a massage—full body and spirit.
I also heard from a woman priest colleague that it was nice to see girls on the altar, not dancing of course, at a notably conservative patriarchal parish that’s trying to be more open. My friend has also been invited to preach and celebrate there.
And then I heard from a colleague woman priest and friend that the bishop who had 35 years ago turned me down for ordination had told her that being against the ordination had been the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
These tiny epiphanies felt hopeful that the Church will continue to chip away at patriarchy and full inclusion of every person in the worship and politics of the institution. Am I delusional?
Make no mistake the current political field in this country is NOT about just the economy, it is about women—keeping them in their traditional places, or not. You could even say barefoot and pregnant and confined to a role. The climate is contentious around money (who has it all and who gets to keep it all) and misogyny, or is it gynephobia. Kept money and kept women. The way out of a deadlock I think is to empower women to make their own choices and to exercise their own gifts for the common good, family and beyond. The progressive Church, oddly, is doing better than the government.
I’m firmly committed to the idea that as many different voices as possible should grace ALL our "pulpits" and altars and podiums. It builds community, neighborliness and peace. Christians are far from uniform in their styles of worship, politics, and theology. We desperately need to talk. We need to cut through assumptions and get to know who we really are. We only live next door for heaven’s sake.
I’ve been trying to promote such connections for years including interfaith ones. The miles between us are short but the walls are thick and so parochial it’s shocking.
I tell you I do wonder how Holy Spirit, She whom I call Sophie, works things for the best even when it all looks lousy and hopeless to us.
But She is a mysterious masseuse of relational connective tissues. And you know how long it takes those muscles and joints to loosen up and let go—and then pop back tight, over and over. It’s worse than muscles to get people to let go, and even worse with religious people.
Get a massage—full body and spirit.
Labels:
church,
Holy Spirit maasseuse,
Organized Religion,
politics
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
2011.12.14 Occupy and Organize
Let’s get organized! I think I shouted that to my young family or if I didn’t I thought it loudly.
I wonder if Godde conjured that divine thought just the second before the firmament split-seconded out of control and Creation burst through.
It seemed to me that in our family of six we needed to find a way to go in the same direction at the same time at least once a day—other than to bed.
So I have admired the Occupiers very much, for their cause, their zeal, their endurance, their shear voicing of truth, and their non-violent ways. AND I want them to get organized so their truth-voice will not fade out and whoosh away like so much sage brush in the desert.
So I say to Occupiers: Don’t get lost. Don’t lose your vitality. OCCUPY YOUR IDEA. Get organized and take your voice to the halls of executive and legislative power. Politics is a hard go, but GO.
At Christmas Christians celebrate anew the God who OCCUPIES human flesh in Jesus, and in you & me too! This idea took hold and held on in spite of many attempts to evict and convict it.
A five year old named Sharon told the old story to her poet father John Shea who wrote a poem about his daughter’s solemn retelling of the ancient story. Sharon’s response is the only possible one to such a gloriously preposterous idea:
“Then the baby was borned.
And do you know who he was?
Her quarter eyes inflated to silver dollars.
The baby was God.
And she jumped in the air,
whirled round, dove into the sofa,
and buried her head under the cushion
which is the only proper response
to the Good News of the Incarnation.”
This Occupy movement may hold hope for what is currently thought heinous to so many: ORGANIZED RELIGION.
The early seekers and followers of divinity realized there was more to this messy life than human effort. In time they organized themselves and drew a community together to worship a Mystery they couldn’t know except by faith.
Religion’s journey began in relationships of mutual caring among human beings who shared inklings of intuitions of the Beyond, the More. They were intimately connected by their fears— and their awe. Wonderstruck they “dove into sofas” and uttered prayers. It began with astonishments and a vision. Only later did they get organized in writing and practices and, heaven forfend, structure.
Of course the impulse to organize can go awry but not if the people keep hold of the vision: love, peace, justice for all earth— because of an OCCUPYING GOD.
I wonder if Godde conjured that divine thought just the second before the firmament split-seconded out of control and Creation burst through.
It seemed to me that in our family of six we needed to find a way to go in the same direction at the same time at least once a day—other than to bed.
So I have admired the Occupiers very much, for their cause, their zeal, their endurance, their shear voicing of truth, and their non-violent ways. AND I want them to get organized so their truth-voice will not fade out and whoosh away like so much sage brush in the desert.
So I say to Occupiers: Don’t get lost. Don’t lose your vitality. OCCUPY YOUR IDEA. Get organized and take your voice to the halls of executive and legislative power. Politics is a hard go, but GO.
At Christmas Christians celebrate anew the God who OCCUPIES human flesh in Jesus, and in you & me too! This idea took hold and held on in spite of many attempts to evict and convict it.
A five year old named Sharon told the old story to her poet father John Shea who wrote a poem about his daughter’s solemn retelling of the ancient story. Sharon’s response is the only possible one to such a gloriously preposterous idea:
“Then the baby was borned.
And do you know who he was?
Her quarter eyes inflated to silver dollars.
The baby was God.
And she jumped in the air,
whirled round, dove into the sofa,
and buried her head under the cushion
which is the only proper response
to the Good News of the Incarnation.”
This Occupy movement may hold hope for what is currently thought heinous to so many: ORGANIZED RELIGION.
The early seekers and followers of divinity realized there was more to this messy life than human effort. In time they organized themselves and drew a community together to worship a Mystery they couldn’t know except by faith.
Religion’s journey began in relationships of mutual caring among human beings who shared inklings of intuitions of the Beyond, the More. They were intimately connected by their fears— and their awe. Wonderstruck they “dove into sofas” and uttered prayers. It began with astonishments and a vision. Only later did they get organized in writing and practices and, heaven forfend, structure.
Of course the impulse to organize can go awry but not if the people keep hold of the vision: love, peace, justice for all earth— because of an OCCUPYING GOD.
Labels:
John Shea poet,
Occupy movement,
Organized Religion
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