Saturday, December 21, 2013

Winter Solstice and Christmas


 
As we pass through the Winter Solstice, may the days ever be brighter from here out.  Despite the clouds, the temperature, and the months of cold ahead, know that the light is returning.

For those who are curious, and those eagerly awaiting, below is the link to the annual Christmas letter.

May your celebrations be blessed.


Sunday, October 13, 2013

A Right or a Privilege? A Dual American/Canadian's Thoughts on Health Care

A Right or a Privilege?

I grew up in a conservative corner of Pennsylvania, indoctrinated in the ideas that the America was the best country, that taxes were bad, and that injury or sickness made me a financial burden.

While my parents never overtly commented on the cost I was to them when I broke an arm or needed that emergency appendectomy, the undercurrent was there.  I was costing them money, and money was scarce.  It was a terrible thing to feel as a child.

In my early twenties I married a Canadian and moved to Ontario.  It was then I began discovering an ethos akin to, "we are all in this together, and we all chip in to support each other."  It was kind, trusting, inclusive, and didn't let me assume any one person's superiority or worth as compared to another.  It was eye-opening.  It was refreshing. I found I much preferred it and still do.

"Membership" in Canada includes higher taxes, yes.  It also includes a Health Card.  It is the Health Card that the health care providers ask for. They look at it and hand it back when I go in for any service.  "Membership has its privileges."   Canada works hard to provide basic human rights for its citizens---for the "card-carrying members," if you will.  A country should do no less.

When I go in for a check-up, the first question asked is NOT, "How are you going to pay?"   When I became pregnant and wanted appropriate prenatal care, no one presented me with a bill. Ever. When I delivered, no one even showed me a sheet that reminded me how much it would have cost me if I didn't have health insurance.  

When our daughter had a fainting spell while visiting the US, we were presented with a bill for $11,000.00 for a few hours in emergency and (an unnecessary) night of observation.  I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach.  Thank God Canada has coverage for travelers and we didn't have to pay a single (wildly inflated) penny.

Education is considered a right in the United States.  But health care is not.  That doesn't make sense to me. Should health care be a right, or a privilege?  I know where I stand on that (along with most of the developed world).  Yes, there are divisions, where we can consider some procedures discretionary, but that argument does not negate the basic question. Health care is a basic human right, not a privilege.  

For the many, MANY in the "have not" category in the United States there are ways to get some support for for health care, but it requires waits in long lines, often in ugly, emotionally cold spaces, to speak with a hard-eyed person behind bullet-proof glass, so that one might have a chance to try to prove one is bad-enough off to deserve the support.  It is time-consuming, humiliating, degrading, and soul-killing.  I know.  I have had to live through it.  It is seared into my memory.

The United States is the only developed country in the entire world that doesn't see health care as a right. Health Care remains a privilege. The gutted Obamacare is a start.  But it is struggling to be born amid an oppressive cloud of irrational fear and crazy rhetoric.  I just don't get it.  Is anyone looking at the evidence from the many countries with socialized medicine that their population is happier and less stressed, and therefore the whole country benefits? There is no down side, other than higher taxes, which is far from the worst thing in the world.  It seems as if the US fear of paying taxes, disconnected from any sane understanding of the POINT of taxes seems to be dominating the discourse.  Taxes are not the problem.  Human disconnection from the worth and dignity of other human beings seems a much deeper concern.  For a country with so many professing Christians, where is the Christian value of caring for the sick and the poor?  "Let someone else do it, (not me through my taxes)" just doesn't wash.

Yes, we pay much higher taxes in Canada, as they do in the Netherlands and Denmark and Sweden and Germany etc, but for that we get peace of mind, excellent care, lower post-secondary education costs, among many other benefits.  My experience, having lived in both the US and Canada, is that I far prefer Canada's philosophy, outlook, and intention, which includes treating all of its citizens with worth and dignity, than what I experienced in the United States.

I am thinking about this especially I have been called to pastor a wonderful little church in New England, and will soon have to navigate the US health care system again.

Heaven help me.

Well, here is one vote and one voice returning to the States, who is a FIRM believer in the marriage of socialism and capitalism, and the overall benefit to humanity's well-being as a foundational value, not "saving money" separated from compassion.  We are all in this together!  If one is suffering, we all are, period.

If you agree with me at all, please like this blog posting, and maybe even share it!

peace
Rev. Alison


Thursday, August 22, 2013

The Names of God or "Is Jesus Christ the Only Way?"

The Names of God - sermon

Rev. Alison Longstaff, August 18, 2013
Fryeburg, Maine
Isaiah 9: 2, 6-7, Mark 9: 33 -40; AC 2385:5
These readings can be found at the end of this document, if desired.

     Our notion of God is deeply personal.  It starts forming when we are very little and resides in a deep place within our hearts. This inner concept of God is very sacred ground.  To mess with it in another person without their consent can be to commit spiritual violation.  This explains why we find religious recruiters so distasteful.  This can also explain why we might feel hesitant to talk about our own beliefs with others.

     Today, I plan to push the boundaries of our God-image a little bit. This is intended to be a kind of spiritual massage-therapy or yoga.  It is intended to soften and loosen what can be tightly held spiritual muscles, and it may feel a little uncomfortable.  Just breathe. I promise to be gentle.

     In the summer of 2001 I was up in Owen Sound, Ontario researching first nations’ spirituality.  I was granted permission to sit with one of the tribal elders.  I was delighted and honoured.  I took a seat next to a lady with glasses and short curly grey hair, who was wearing a typical baggy “old lady” polyester dress.  Somehow I had expected braids and buckskin.  In any case, I said I was there to ask her about her spiritual beliefs.  She asked me earnestly if had been saved by Jesus.
     I was heart-sick.  This was a tribal elder. It turns out that I knew more about her traditional tribal beliefs than she did.   European colonialism did this.  “Christian” colonialism, with its arrogant assumption that its religious beliefs trump those of all others, especially those of “savages,” had systematically dismantled, disbanded, and exiled her culture.  Many tribal traditions and languages in North America are lost forever. Many more teeter on the brink of extinction, and are requiring deliberate governmental and tribal interventions to try to recover and restore what bits and pieces of what is left that they can.
     Whatever gave Christians such arrogance?  History will tell us that the earliest Christians sought simply to survive, and to spread the good news, which was to tell the story of Jesus, and invite people to live a life of social justice and mutual service. But somewhere along the way, in fact, once Christianity became the dominant religion, Christians—we—switched from a mindset of service to an attitude of entitlement.  From there it was an easy step into certainty of our religious superiority.  We stopped being about living love, and started being about being right.  We started believing that forcing people to agree with us, and become like us, was our Christian obligation.

    Religious arrogance can do so much damage.  Now, now we know how sacred and precious aboriginal spirituality is.  We Christians nearly obliterated it in our arrogance.
     And it was that shift from heart to head, from love to ideology, from humble service to “possessing the right truth” that was the key to our arrogance.  It was this shift from love to “truth” that was so profoundly destructive of the health and well-being of the spiritual communities Christianity invaded.  It was truth without humility, truth without respect for God in the other, which isn't truth at all.  Because truth, when separated from love, becomes false.  It has no internal integrity.  It loses its connection to the Source of all.  History has shown that any denomination that assumes it has a duty to impose its “superior” God-view on the cultures it encounters leaves spiritual violation in its wake.  Current events continue to tell the tale of the how much violence can be done when one

group  claims exclusive access to “Truth.”  Such attitudes are only and ever destructive and divisive of the very things that bind us together.

     Now, I’m going to ask you to go inside yourself.  Think, (and feel if possible) about times you have felt religiously arrogant, or ideologically arrogant, or simply powerfully self righteous.
     Go inside and ask yourself, “What attitudes and emotions underlie those feelings of arrogance and certainty?"
     Let’s sit with that a bit.
     As for me, I can say it feels really good to be sure I am right.  It creates in me an uprising energy that longs to spread itself.  I can feel excited and empowered, and I long to go on a crusade to fix someone else with my great insights. Fixing someone else feels good!  When I’m fixing someone else the attention isn't on me and what I may have done wrong, but on the other, and how I might correct they are doing wrong, or even simply how they are thinking wrong.  I have actually found myself urgently wanting to fix someone else’s idea of the trinity (because it was “wrong”), when, as to quality of life, that other person was busy serving the neighbor humbly and kindly.  And me? I couldn't step over the bodies fast enough to go correct that Good Samaritan’s ideology. (---metaphorically speaking.  I don’t think I've ever actually stepped over a body in order to correct someone….)

     But I’m sure you see the problem.  Whenever you or I are on a mission to fix someone else, we have lost our way.  Twelve steppers call it, “Taking someone else’s inventory” when we are cataloging our neighbor's  faults and not our own.  Our job is to work on our own  regeneration, not someone else’s.  That can be one of the hardest, hardest things for us to learn.  It can feel much more fun and interesting to take stock of how someone else should change.  It’s not nearly as fun, (not fun at all?) to take stock of how I should change.
     But when you or I are focused on someone else’s foibles, we have left no room for respect.  No room for reverence of the sacred spiritual ground in the other.  Each person’s spirituality, no matter how different from yours or mine, is sacred ground.  Sacred ground!  And there is no humility when we are on a mission to fix someone else.  There is no awareness that we all live in glass houses. We each have a massive rafter in our own eye and have no business correcting someone else, especially when they haven’t asked for help.  Christians aren’t the
only ones on a mission to fix the whole world, but we certainly are high in the running.
     It is this righteous arrogance that has given religion a bad name.  But the thing is, religion isn't the problem.  Having a spiritual, God-centered paradigm isn't the problem. Arrogance is the problem. Certainty, entitlement, and the desire to dominate are the problems.
     Having said all that, what do we do with the very common, very strong teachings that only through belief in Jesus Christ can a person be saved, and that Christians are to go and teach this throughout the whole world?

   Let’s stretch our God-concept a little.

     Ask yourself, what if God is more than “Jesus”?

     It is easy to get stuck on what name to call the God of Love, and what face to give—Him? (Her?)  (You or I might like to reassure ourselves that our pronoun is the rightest one, but “rightest” doesn't apply to an all-inclusive God.)  The bible tells us that God made all people, all humans, in the image of God.  That includes all colors and genders.  Swedenborg, if we want to believe him, tells us that God made all the religions too---ALL of them, each one uniquely suited to the people and region in which it is found. And each one provides a path to “salvation” which means a path to true humanity, true humanity—which is to become a person full of wisdom and kindness.  Each religion in its original form and at its heart has this intention. But over time, people, you and I, clutter religion up with rules and exclusions, until the religion, which is supposed to be a path to God, becomes a stumbling block.

     In our Scripture reading from Mark we find the disciples arguing about who would be God’s favorite.   That’s us.  That’s you and me.  That’s the human race fighting over which religion is better, which perspective is better.  They are walking with Jesus right there with them and they are wasting time bickering over who is the best.

      Isn't that just like us?  Jesus, to wake them up, did one of his favorite things: he turned the question on its head.  He proposed that the one who would be greatest was the one who wanted to be the servant of all.

     I’m guessing this statement was a real stumper for the disciples.  Be the servant?  Be the lowest?  Human arrogance never wants to hear that!

      It is never, never about the pecking order.  It is never about status, or right skin color, or right family name, or right sexual orientation, or right religious club.  It is about what is in our hearts.

     In this church, we are Swedenborgians.  We always look inside a thing.  We are about the spirit, the essence, the inner quality, not the external shape or size or color.  The spirit of God.  The spirit of love
and goodwill—this is our salvation.
     Swedenborg tells us that every name in the bible represents a spiritual quality.  The name of Jesus Christ, means the quality of great love—great love and great wisdom in service in the world.  Every religion that is true has some version of this at its heart.
     Whenever we remember that it is about compassion, not rules, Jesus is Lord.  Whenever we refuse to dominate or control our neighbor, Jesus is Lord.  When we focus on how to be of service, not how to be the best, we are acting in the name of Jesus Christ, in the spiritual quality of love and wisdom in service.

   What kills “Jesus” or a life of loving, humble service is this very competing over whose God is best—whose God will rule—be we Catholic, Protestant, Swedenborgian, some other Christian or a non-Christian spirituality.  In this sense then, any religion that supports people in becoming more enlightened, compassionate, and useful is a religion with “Jesus Christ” at its heart regardless of what name they give God.  If the spiritual value that is love and wisdom is at the center of any spiritual path,
“Jesus Christ” by another name is at the centre, period. Let’s stop fretting about names and faces and different rituals.  Let us look to the heart and the life of any given spirituality, for that is where we will find “Jesus” or their “way of love.”  That is where we will find the Holy Spirit in a slightly different skin color or garment, but the Holy Spirit, nonetheless.
     "Teacher," said John, "we saw a man driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us." "Do not stop him, "Jesus said,  “for whoever is not against us is for us.”

     “The Ancient Church, which was spread throughout many kingdoms of the earth, was of such a character that, though doctrinal teachings and religious practices differed, there was nevertheless one spiritual community.  This is because respect and kindness were the essential things. At that time one could say the Lord's kingdom did exist on earth as it did in heaven, for such is the character of heaven. If the same situation existed now all would be governed by Love as though they were one person; for they would be like the members and organs of one body which, though dissimilar in form and function, still depended on one heart.  Everyone would then say of another, No matter what form their doctrine and external worship take, this is my neighbor  I observe that he or she worships the God of Love and lives a good life.” (Emanuel Swedenborg Heavenly Secrets, paragraph #2385:5)

There is but one fold and one Shepherd, and we all belong. Amen

Using the Inclusive Bible by Priests for Equality
Isaiah 9: 2, 6-7
The people walking in darkness are seeing a brilliant light;
upon those who dwell in a land of deep shadows, light is shining. 6 For a Child is born to us, an Heir is given; Upon whose shoulders dominion will rest.  This One shall be called Wonderful Counselor, the Strength of God, Eternal protector, Champion of Peace.  7 This Dominion and this Peace will grow without end, With David’s throne and realm, Sustained with justice and fairness, Now and forever. The zeal of YHWH Omnipotent will accomplish it.

Mark 9: 33 -40
33 They returned home to Capernaum. Once they were inside the house, Jesus began to ask them, "What were you discussing on the way home?" 34 At this they fell silent for on the way they had been arguing about who among them was the most important. 35 So Jesus sat down and called the Twelve over and said, "If any of you wants to be first, you must be the last one of all, and at the service of all." 36 He took a little child into their midst and putting his arm around the child, said to them, 37 "Whoever welcomes a child such as this for my sake welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me welcome not me but the One who sent me."
38  John said to Jesus, "Teacher, we saw someone using your name to expel demons in and we tried to stop it, since this person was not one of our group." 39 Jesus said in reply,"Do not try to stop it. No one who performs a miracle using my name can in the next moment misrepresent me. 40 Anyone who is not against us is with us.”

Heavenly Secrets (paragraph #2385:5)
“The Ancient Church, which was spread throughout many kingdoms of the earth, was of such a character that, though doctrinal teachings and religious practices differed, there was nevertheless one spiritual community.  This is because respect and kindness were the essential things. At that time one could say the Lord's kingdom did exist on earth as it did in heaven, for such is the character of heaven. If the same situation existed now all would be governed by Love as though they were one person; for they would be like the members and organs of one body which, though dissimilar in form and function, still depended on one heart.  Everyone would then say of another, No matter what form their doctrine and external worship take, this is my neighbor  I observe that he or she worships the God of Love and lives a good life.” Emanuel Swedenborg

Originally "What’s in a Name?", delivered May 3rd, 2009, Church of the Good Shepherd, Kitchener, Ontario

Thursday, August 15, 2013

All Things New

All Things New - a sermon

August 11, 2013 at 9:38pm
Rev. Alison Longstaff, Aug 9, 2013
Bath Church of the New Jerusalem, Maine
Scriptures: Luke 15: 1-10, Revelation 21: 1-7, Apocalypse Explained 675:10
These readings can be found at the end of this document, if desired.

Our text for today is, “Behold, I make all things new.” This is not just an observation in the voice of God.  This is a promise.  It is the same promise that gave birth to the resurrection of our Lord---the promise that nothing good ever truly dies.  No aspect of God’s love can ever cease to exist in any way.  It simply can’t.  The Love of God is the only reality and created all things, so every aspect and face of that love continues.  Death itself is an illusion.  Yes, the death of beloved time periods, of beloved relationships and institutions, and most especially of family and friends is a very real and painful part of mortal existence.  But mortal existence is not the end of the story.  It is just the prologue to a much bigger story. 
In the bigger story nothing good ever dies.  Jesus showed us this in the most profound way, and we see the theme recurring in many popular stories today: with Aslan, with Obi-wan Kenobi, with Gandalf, and yes, absolutely with Harry Potter.  The truth of this fact appears again and again: all that is truly wise and loving can never actually be killed, no matter how strong the forces of evil may seem to be.  Love wins, every time, by force of gentleness and persistence.  It can seem to die, and the loss is terrible at the time.  But it always returns transformed and more powerful than ever. All things can be made new. 

In preparing to come for this visit, I was emailing with Rev. George about the way candidating for a congregation feels a bit like dating.  George responded uncertainly, saying that that cast him in the role of the protective parent, with which role he wasn't thrilled.  I kept chewing on that metaphor, and my thoughts turned to, “Actually, George is more like the “ex…” except he is also supporting the congregation in finding the replacement spouse...  And the metaphor just got weirder after that.

I was left wondering if there is any metaphor that serves to describe the dance we are enjoying together this weekend?  This is indeed something like a first date.  A ministerial candidate could perhaps be seen to be something like a prospective adoptive parent?  Or even a step-mom?  But wouldn’t that make me “wicked?”  

No, this friendly looking-one-another-over keeps feeling like a mutual courtship.  It is somehow more than a job interview, due to the intimacy of the prospective relationship.  But it is not as intense and far reaching as a marriage proposal.  The pastor-parish relationship is somehow something unique in the world.  We are indeed here this weekend exploring the possibility of a committed relationship---one in which we all bring our individual strengths to the game and call out the best from each other.  This is not just a job interview.  Pastoring a church is so much more than a job.  It has a peculiar blending of civil and spiritual, of practical and mystical, of human and divine.  It is a sobering undertaking.  It is serious, and real, and weighty. 

As I sat down to reflect on the transition Bath is facing, I was flooded with images from the movie “Truly, Madly, Deeply.”  In it British actress Juliet Stevenson gives us a touching look at a newly widowed young woman trying desperately to reconcile herself to the loss of her husband.   We see intense grief. She has lost a best friend, a companion, half of her piano-cello duet; she has lost her life in so many ways, and the only way forward is through her grief.  It is a poignant, endearing, and tenderly told story of loss and new life, and in no way minimizes the real work involved in releasing the old to make room for the new.

When she gets stuck in the grief, her husband’s ghost, played tenderly by Alan Rickman, moves back into the flat with her.  Her joy and relief is palpable.  They cuddle and laugh and play music together the way they used to.  It seems idyllic at first, except for the awkward fact that he is dead and no one else can see him.  As the story goes on, she must continue to eat and sleep and go to work the way mortals do, while he grows paler and colder and increasingly lonely. He keeps turning up the heat to warm himself. And he invites hoards of ghost-friends over to keep him company while she is at work or when she is trying to sleep.  It becomes noisier and increasingly crowded in her flat.  Then he starts redecorating.  
She is less and less delighted.

Then a dear and very alive gentleman comes into her life.  Finally, she accepts his friendship.  When she heads off on a date with this new gentleman, we see her ghost-husband, surrounded by a host of his spectral buddies watching her go with a wistful grimace of satisfaction, that we realize he has been intentionally making himself a nuisance all along in order help her get over him.  That is how truly, madly, and deeply he loved her.

And this is where the Bath church’s story departs from the movie-plot, for beloved Rev. George is very much alive, and I don’t think he is capable of being a nuisance, even if he tried.  Still, there are several points of resonance.  George loves this church deeply, and wants with his whole heart to see you move forward in good hands.  Also, no matter who steps forward to lead you from this point on, there will be grief for the loss of what
has been.  To lose George as your leader is a loss indeed, and I want to acknowledge that the coming years will include sadness and nostalgia for Rev. George’s leadership-style.  Anyone who follows in his footsteps has the unmistakable disadvantage of not being him, with his gentleness, wise insights, and deep love of the doctrines.  Leave space for this sadness.  Try not to take it out on your new leader, nor on each other.  You are very blessed here, in that I suspect that George will be able to remain around as a mentoring and helping presence without conflict for your new leader, but bear in mind, there will still be pangs of loss.  There will be bumps in the transition.  Go gently with each other. Transformation is the end in sight and the promise, but transition is uncomfortable, and some grumpiness is inevitable.

“Behold, I make all things new,” is God’s promise to lead you into transformation, growth,and new life.  New life always involves a death of the old, but it need not mean irreparable loss nor a rapid change to something unrecognizable.  It need not nor should it leave anyone behind.  Every congregation goes through life cycles, and the Bath Church of the New Jerusalem is at a key point in its journey---you are primed to burst into new growth. 

The Lord can make this tiny congregation new.  God’s promise includes “everything,” as we read in today’s reading from Apocalypse Explained.  But one must sweep the house to find what is needed.  Our story from Luke does not say that the woman hesitated to sweep, or feared what she would find if she swept.  She didn't question whether she was worthy to be the mistress of all she would find or if she knew enough truth first.  She simply lit a candle, which means she brought her best love to light the way, and she swept house diligently.  She cleaned spiritual house, because that is the only way to find what was lost.  Apocalypse Explained says that “sweeping the house means to review everything inside one’s being, where the truth lies hidden.”  The truth lies hidden within one’s being, not outside of it.  This is speaking about the manna or goodness that God has tucked away inside each of us and inside this congregation.  It is saying that this congregation already has all it needs inside its gifts and strengths, to become what God intends. You already are and have all that you need, should you choose the path to growth.

“Behold, I make all things new,” says our Lord.  Now it is your time to grow!  Bring your best love, and get sweeping.  You will find you already have what it takes within you.  Congratulations on your courage to make this transition, and blessings as you go forward.  Thank you for the privilege of meeting you,and please know that no matter whom you choose as your new leader, I am sure good things lie ahead.  Fear not.
Amen.

The Readings:
Using the Inclusive Bible by Priests for Equality:
Luke 15: 1-10 Meanwhile the tax collectors and the “sinners” were all gathering around Jesus to listen to His teaching, at which the Pharisees and the religious scholars murmured, “This person welcomes sinners and eats with them.”Then Jesus addressed this parable to them:  “Who among you, having a hundred sheep, and losing one of them, doesn’t leave the ninety-nine in open pasture, and search for the lost one until it’s found? And finding it, you put the sheep on your shoulders in jubilation. Once home, you invite friends and neighbors in and say to them, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep!’ I tell you, in the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one repentant sinner than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need to repent.  “What householder, who has ten silver pieces and loses one, doesn’t light a lamp and sweep the house in a diligent until she finds what she has lost? And when it is found, the householder calls in her friends and neighbors and says, ‘Rejoice with me!  I have found the silver piece I lost!’ 10 I tell you, there will be the same kind of joy before the angels of God over one repentant sinner.”

Rev 21: 1-7 Then I saw new heavens and a new earth, for the former heavens and the former earth had passed away, and the sea existed no longer. Then I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, as beautiful as a bride prepared for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne, “Look, the tabernacle of God is among humankind,and God will abide with them, and they shall be God’s people. God will be fully present among them. The Most High will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” Then the One who sat on the throne said, “See, I make all things new;” and added, “Write; for these words are trustworthy and true.” And that One continued, “It is finished. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To those who thirst I will give drink freely of the spring of the water of life. This is the rightful inheritance of those who overcome. I will be their God and they shall be My daughters and sons.

From The Apocalypse Explained by Emanuel Swedenborg, paragraph # 675:10 
Ten signifies “a whole lot” and “everything.” Because of this, the number ten appears in passages where “a whole lot”and “everything” is to be understood, such as the story of the woman having ten pieces of silver. If she lost one piece, would she not light a candle and sweep the house, and seek carefully till she found it? (Luke xv. 8). Ten here signifies “everything.” There is spiritual meaning in every detail of the Word.In the spiritual meaning, “woman” signifies “the church” regarding its love for truth. A “piece of silver” stands for truth, and losing the piece of silver is about losing one’s understanding of the truth. Lighting a candle corresponds to self-examination from affection; sweeping the house means to review everything inside one’s being, where the truth lies hidden. This is the spiritual meaning of these words. A hundred, like ten, also signifies everything; therefore a similar parable speaks of a hundred sheep, and if one were lost (Matt. xviii 12, 13; Luke xv. 3-7).  

Monday, July 29, 2013

The Wounded Inner Child and Experiencing Our Vulnerability

I have been sad lately.  I have felt curled up inside and afraid, like a lost child.  This is a recurrent place that I visit.

When I am strong and confident and coming from love, I cannot remember why I ever would feel this small and lost.

But now that this pall of sadness and fear is visiting, I cannot remember how I ever felt strong and confident.  That place of strength isn't currently accessible.

So I have been doing what I can do while I am here, which is to observe the feelings, and be compassionate with myself (which is easier said than done!), and to practice meditation, and to see if I can allow myself to play.

A wise mentor recently said that this inner child, which is currently in fetal position, is not my true self.  It is one face of my experience, but not THE TRUTH about me.

That was tremendously helpful.

It reminds me that I am more than my wounds.  It reminds me that I am also strong and gifted and loved.  It reminds me that the sun is shining behind the clouds.

Why do I write this?  Why am I so vulnerable in a public space, where I might invite doubt in my capabilities, or censure for struggling, or condemnation for being "weak?"

I put this out there because I believe I am not alone.

I put this out there because I believe these sorts of inner dynamics are all too common, and a friendly hand, or a kind voice, or a helpful sign-post can make all the difference when one is lost in a fog and feeling alone.

I am not the only one on this journey who sometimes feels like I am three years old and on my own---who forgets that I also have an inner adult who is loving and wise and strong, even if temporarily out of sight.

And you who walk beside me in vulnerability and honesty are my true companions, not the voices who are
judging.

I judge other's "weakness" as a defense against feeling my own vulnerability.  I would rather just be honest about feeling sad and lost, than judge others as a way of defending myself against feeling this way.

And honestly, the deepest strength belongs to those who can admit their own vulnerability.  Well, that's the story I am clinging to today.

For deeply insightful explorations of shame and vulnerability, I recommend anything by Brene Brown.

Go courageously into this day, even if all that looks like today is breathing and stopping negative self-talk.  You are lovable and loved!

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psN1DORYYV0

http://www.onbeing.org/program/brene-brown-on-vulnerability/4928

Monday, July 22, 2013

"My Blanket And Me"  - 
aka 
"Ego Defense Mechanisms: Necessary Supports? or Walls That Prevent Growth?"
Rev. Alison Longstaff
July 21th, 2013

Meditation: Though the human body is born complete in one moment, the birth of the human heart is an ongoing process.  It is being birthed in every experience of your life. Everything that happens to you has the potential to deepen you.  All the possibilities of your human destiny are asleep in your soul.  You are here to realize and honour these possibilities.
-John O'Donohue-





          My talk today is based on sacred texts by Charles Schultz and Dr Seuss---okay, a pretenda-Dr Seuss, but I’m pretty sure Scott Grace was channeling Dr. Seuss when he wrote today’s reading.  Two excellent sages.  I have to say, that one of the things that I love about Unitarians is that you accept guiding texts because they speak a truth, not because they are from an officially approved document.  You recognize and honour wisdom when you encounter it, period.  It need not come wearing an official, church-sanctioned cloak to be treated with respect.  I find this wonderfully refreshing.  And so today our lesson is from the Gospel of “Peanuts” by Charles Schultz.

         Let’s take a look at Linus Van Pelt and his blanket, and decide what sort of role his blanket plays in his life.  Linus is Charlie Brown’s best friend, and the bossy Lucy Van Pelt’s baby brother.  (Hmmmm.  Just having Lucy as an older sister explains the need for a security blanket for me.)  Linus sucks his thumb, with his trusty blanket thrown over his shoulder.  Wise beyond his years, Linus often manages to avoid Lucy’s bullying by outsmarting her or confusing her into submission. He comforts and reassures Charlie Brown by listening to Charlie’s endless tales of failure and discouragement. Deeply philosophical, Linus almost serves a pastoral role in the beloved comic strip.  With his unswerving faith in the Great Pumpkin, he’s not unlike many spiritual leaders today---respected and loved, even if his beliefs seem a little goofy….

            Despite ongoing campaigns from Snoopy, Lucy, and Linus’ grandmother to wrest the blanket from his grip forever, Linus successfully recovers his beloved blanket again and again throughout the strip; only leaving it gradually behind when he is truly ready, and by his own choice.  In the mean time, Linus’ blanket takes on a character of its own, dancing with him when they are reunited after each separation, and even carrying out sneak attacks on Lucy when she repeatedly tries to throw it in the trash burner. 

            Linus was unapologetic and unashamed of his blanket-dependency.  In one series of strips, his friend Roy warns him that he mustn't take his blanket to summer camp, for he will be teased mercilessly.  Linus takes his blanket, and with a deft flick of the wrist, snaps it at a large branch, bringing it crashing to the ground.  In the next frame Linus remarks, “They never tease me more than once.” 

           How can you not love the guy?  Bright, soft spoken, flawed, yet good-hearted, Linus resonates with a part in each of us.  He is a softer, wiser side.  A kind side. A brave and honest side.  Yet a side that is easily rendered vulnerable. He is intelligent, but profoundly disoriented if his primary comfort and defense is too far away.

          My two girls each had a special blanket growing up.  (Jordan had a pacifier and a wooden ukulele.  What can I say?  That’s Jordan.)  But my girls may still have their ragged scraps of blanket somewhere.  Jennie’s was crocheted with green and yellow granny squares; Eden’s was light blue and knitted by her grandma.  Soft and woven with love, each blanket came on every vacation, and were the first line of defense against pain and sadness. 

            Those blankets offer a tender metaphor for how we adults care for the child inside each of us.  Within each of us is the child we once were, with all his or her memories, fears, and insecurities.  Sometimes the smallest cue can take us back to an early age, and our coping mechanisms regress right alongside us.

         And if you are like me, my ego is always right there, ready to berate me and call me names, just like today’s Dr. Seussian reading.  I am too stupid or too clumsy.  I am too loud, or too quiet.  I am a fraud, and someone is about to out me.  The list is endless.  And when I fall prey to those sorts of thoughts, you will usually find me moments later doing a face-plant in a vat of chocolate ice cream.

            Over the course of my own therapy, and in my training to become a therapist, I have had often found myself reflecting on human defense mechanisms---their reasons for existing as well as the problems they can cause us.  I have been paying attention to those things that we do to reassure ourselves, to comfort ourselves, to reduce anxiety, and to restore a sense of well-being.  Some of these things are beneficial in the long run; others, not-so-much.  Some of us might turn to food to feel better; some might turn to alcohol.  Some of us scrub the bathroom.  Some watch endless movies or whole seasons of television.  Some go running, or practice yoga; and some bury themselves in work.    Some of us beat ourselves up inside and resolve to try harder.  (Because maybe if we impress a few more people and make a few more dollars, we’ll then prove we are worthy of love?)  Some of us phone a friend, or repeatedly check Facebook for “Like”s.  Some go out to a bar or coffee shop for a while. Some go shopping. Some watch sports. Some sleep, and sleep, and sleep. And occasionally, one of us might go out to find someone else’s life that we can try to control and fix.  Because that feels so much better than trying to tackle our own messy life.  Admit it….  

           What do you do?  What things or activities do you turn to for security and comfort? What serves as your blanket?
            From a therapist’s perspective such defense mechanisms make complete sense.  Even the ones that seem destructive serve a purpose.  They are attempts to escape pain. I have nothing but compassion for everyone, from the Coke addict to the coke (cocaine) addict.  I know what it is like when the pain is so great that nothing can stand between me and Ben and Jerry’s “Phish Food” or Dove’s “Unconditional Chocolate” ice cream.
             
             We are nothing if not creative and adaptive beings, and we are astonishingly good at finding ways to survive horrific experiences.  I cannot judge.  I don’t know what a given fill-in-the-blank addict has been through.  My heart breaks for any one of us whose coping mechanisms become themselves a new source of pain.

            Our job as mature adults is not to judge ourselves for resorting to less-than-ideal ways to escape psychic pain; our job is to do the best we can to gain enough perspective, that we can decide which “supports” to drop from our repertoire,and which to keep.  Some coping mechanisms, like cleaning or running, can be beneficial habits for a life-time. But others only stand between us and a fuller, richer life.  And then they are not truly serving us at all, they have become part of the problem.

            Linus and his blanket illustrate some real truths about the very human ways we find to cope with the
painful sides of life. When I imagined today’s message, I likened Linus’ blanket to ego defense mechanisms, which are both good and bad. But the more I look at the example Schultz gave us, I see that Linus’ blanket represents pretty much only the creatively helpful comforts we draw to ourselves.  Unlike the ego in Scott Grace’s Seussian rip-off, Linus’ blanket doesn't seek to strangle Linus, or beat him, or smother him, or blind him.  It doesn't even leave him in a diabetic coma with chocolate smeared on his face. 

            Linus’ blanket never stops him from a loving choice. It actually stands by him in making courageous choices.  He does, eventually leave it behind in the strip, but the separation is very gentle and gradual.  When he is ready.
            So what are your comfort mechanisms? Is your blankie truly your best friend?  Does it support your growth, or hinder it?
            No matter what role it plays, I invite you to take a moment to thank your blanket for being the friend it has been.  Then thank yourself for finding creative ways to survive this crazy, unpredictable life.  And only if you so choose, may you find strength in leaving the less helpful aspects of your coping behind, when you are ready.  Amen. 

Benediction: May the journey be rich, and the landings soft.  May you ever feel supported, and may you find inside yourself the love that passes all understanding.  Amen.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Magic and Miracles - Reflections on the Hero's Journey

This is from a sermon I preached in 2008... yet it is strangely relevant today

“Magic and Miracles”
Exodus 17: 1-7; Psalm 78: 1-4, 12-16; Matthew 21:23-32
                                                          
Raise your hand if the Bible seems like it is about a bunch of people who died a long time ago, whose lives and culture were so different from ours, that we really can't relate.  

Okay.  
Hands down. 

Now raise your hand if you believe that the Bible was written for all people of all time. 

Hands down.  
Thank you.  
Me too.  

You see, both are true for me, depending on the day.  

But one thing I do know is that people are people, no matter what era or culture we live in. And there is a universality about our human condition---a common ground when it comes to our fears, struggles, and longings---that transcends all our cultural and generational differences.  We really aren’t that different from each other, deep down inside.  

Because of that, the stories in the Bible truly can resonate for us today, no matter how different the time and culture may seem to be.

So, in today’s Psalm we heard about “dark sayings of old,” passed down from our ancestors.  In our story from Exodus we see an old man with a staff magically bring water gushing out of a dead, dry rock.  Staffs and magic.  It all sounds like something out of Harry Potter. 

Who knew that Dumbledore was in the Bible?  Or Gandalf, or Merlin?  But think of Moses, with his flowing white beard and great staff of power, struggling to lead a rag-tag group of wanderers on a long and desperate journey.  It’s starting to sound rather similar.

Well, as this is a Swedenborgian church, let’s see what Swedenborg has to say about it all.  .... I looked, but I couldn't find a single remark about Harry Potter in any of Swedenborg’s books.  

But Swedenborg does talk about magic wands.
 
Actually, Swedenborg talks about “correspondences,” which is ancient, ancient wisdom.  The earliest peoples saw the interconnectedness of all things and lived in a constant state of deep spiritual awareness.  This kind of wisdom has been lost for centuries.  We see only traces of it in ancient cultures, like the way the Celts believed that trees had spirits, and the first nation peoples used totem animals to represent different strengths in their tribes, and the way the aboriginals of many lands seem to intuitively know which plants are good for healing.

Moses used a staff (or big magic wand) because of what a staff corresponds to---a staff represents wisdom and power.  Kings held scepters for the same symbolic reason.  Merlin and Gandalf were given staffs because that same ancient knowing is carved so deeply into our imaginations.

A hand, or “right hand” symbolizes a person’s power, and a staff was an extension of that hand. That is why Moses was told to stretch out his staff in order to effect a miracle, like when he parted the Red Sea or brought water from the rock. The wands that we find in the hands of Harry Potter and his friends are the modern day symbolic descendants of the staffs of power. 

A staff also corresponds to wisdom.  That is another reason we see them in the hands of magicians and wise men in fiction.  A staff represents the great knowledge that the wise men had at their disposal.  In the days before widespread education, their unique learning definitely elevated them above the common people, bringing them respect, power, and status.

But there was a difference between Moses and the wise men of Pharaoh.  The difference lies in the way they used their power and knowledge.  Pharaoh’s wise men had access to a lot of ancient knowledge, but they used it to control others.  They knew how to use it to manipulate reality, and in the beginning could copy some of the wonders and signs that Moses did.  They represent the parts of us and times in us when we are not acting from sincere and good motives.  We can fake an awful lot of goodness.  We can make ourselves look kind and loving when inside we are still pretty unkind and selfish.  This lets us practice being good, and learn about the difference between the real and the fake goodness, but it is not meant to be somewhere we stay.  By the time Moses was battling with Pharaoh’s wise men, their fakery represents a way of living that really needs to be left behind.  Moses represents the call to a real integrity--- to living in such a way that our outsides begin to match our insides.  When we are beginning to live from a truly loving place, from the Lord, our “power,” our quality of life, has a sincerity to it that leaves Pharaoh’s faker magicians dumbstruck and helpless.

Moses’ battle with Pharaoh’s wise men is just the beginning of a long journey.  Just like Frodo's journey in The Lord of the Rings and Harry’s journey in the Harry Potter novels, there are a lot of scary things still ahead.  Our heroes simply won’t make it through without the help of wise friends and supernatural forces.  It was the same for the Children of Israel. 

Psychologists who study such archetypal mythologies say that we love such stories precisely because they resonate so strongly with our human experience.  We are all on a quest to become better than we are.  We are all driven to rid ourselves of whatever dark forces haunt us; we are all compelled from the cradle to find our true other, our true love---and to live with a sense of purpose and peaceful belonging.  These longings lie at the core of each one of us with very little variation from person to person.   Deep inside we are not so different from one another.

So you and I are born into our own hero’s journey, and you and I, even now, are on a quest. 

It is the quest for integrity, belonging, and meaning.  It is the quest to our truest self and true home.  

None of us will make it either, without the help of wise friends and supernatural powers.  But with them, we will all make it, no matter how scary and hopeless it sometimes looks.

Now, it may seem as though I’m playing fast and loose with the Bible story here, but bear with me.

If God loves every single one of us with absolute devotion, tenderness and compassion; if God wants us to become more and more content, fulfilled, and blessed for the rest of our lives, then it stands to reason that He will use every resource at hand to give us meaning, inspiration, and courage---yes, even the Harry Potter series.

You are a rare person indeed if you can read the Moses story and find it as magical, fun, and totally cool as some of today’s modern fiction.  But that's okay.  The Bible is a highly sophisticated style of spiritual writing with a whole lot going on, and isn't meant to be modern fiction.  It wasn't designed that way.  It has got too much else it needs to do given its limited context and simple language.  It speaks to a  deeper part of our psyches, if we are to believe Swedenborg, creating lines of communication between us and heaven---between us and God.  It isn't so much meant to entertain us, as to feed us on a deep spiritual level.  It is like a densely nutritional spiritual drink (that sometimes tastes like lawn clippings) where Harry Potter is more like frozen yogurt.  It is okay to prefer modern fiction.  Just try not to dismiss the Bible altogether.  It's cooler than you think.

Now, running with this hero's journey metaphor, if we are indeed on our own quest, then we, too, have devoted and loyal friends; we, too have weak companions who will help us sometimes and betray us other times.  We, too have powerful allies, and a magical, powerful mentor who has this annoying habit of disappearing just when we need him most, but who shows up just in the nick of time to bail us out of scrapes.

Does this resonate with your life?  Think about it awhile.  

Now, for me, I have several pretty cool earthly mentors, but my Gandalf figure is more like my relationship with God.  Sometimes it really feels like God is present, and I feel safe and hopeful and positive, and strangely magical things seem to sweep away the road blocks and monsters in my life.  But other times, God seems completely out of earshot.  Gone.  Unreachable.  Maybe even dead.  And life is pretty hard to get through during those times.

I'm guessing a lot of people feel this way.  At times like this, we have no choice but to go on, though the whole project can seems pretty hopeless.  We tend to think we've done something wrong to make God go away, but that isn't necessarily true.  Sometimes, it is a necessary phase of the journey.  We don’t often realize it, but we tend to grow much stronger during those times.  We develop and hone our God-given strengths, and really learn to cherish our travelling companions as well.  It isn't fun, it definitely isn't comfortable, but we can learn some important personal lessons when we are feeling alone.

The children of Israel whined a lot when things got rough.  They certainly felt like God had abandoned them several times on their journey.  Things got so bad, they were threatening to kill Moses.  They were going to stone him with stones.  Instead, God brought their salvation just in the nick of time, using a stone.  The thing that could have killed Moses became the source of their salvation.  Water from a rock.  Life out of death.  There is layer upon layer of meaning in this simple story.

In our lives, big and small miracles are happening around us all the time, though we often don’t remember to look for them.  And I don’t just mean the miracle of a baby’s birth or a grandchild’s first word.  I don’t even mean the miracle of a completed sermon by Sunday morning.  I mean the sort of strange miracle which we call coincidence, or serendipity---the sort which tends to make us want to sing the theme music from the Twilight Zone.

You know what I’m talking about. 
 
Five years ago, smack in the middle of the absolute worst years of my life, I had pretty much lost my faith in God.  Rotten stuff just kept happening, month after month.  I was really not on speaking terms with whoever was in charge of the universe, if anyone was.  I was too blasted angry.

The thing is, strange things kept happening during those years.  Really strange things that I can only say felt like encouraging nudges from some supernatural presence---I don’t know how else to describe them.  Call them synchronicity.  Call them hocus-pocus, or chalk them up to my wild imagination, but there were enough of them to make me sit back and take notice. 

Sometimes, they were down right silly.  And often, they made me laugh.

Does God communicate with us in such indirect ways?   I don’t know.  But during those hellishly difficult years, coincidence after magical coincidence kept happening.  Nothing that forced me to believe in God, nothing that forced me to let go of the disillusionment---just gentle, often humorous oddities that defied explanation.    Amidst all the chaos and pain, some Divine Being was playing a kazoo, trying to get me to smile.  I felt seen, supported, and almost elbowed in the ribs by some benevolent source.  It was crazy.  I think this was my “manna,” small and sweet, during my wilderness, giving me just enough encouragement to get through another day.

The saying that God never gives us more than we can handle is simply not true.  God frequently lets us go through more than we can handle; it is just never more than God can handle.  And it is never without a purpose for good for everyone involved in the long run. Period.  Never.  I learned a bunch of things during those terrible years---things I don’t think I could have learned any other way.  One thing I needed to realize was that it wasn't God’s job to spare me from pain and suffering.  God’s job is to help you and me grow into the best, most wise and loving people we can be, as far as we will allow it.  Sometimes that involves some pretty uncomfortable experiences, but the pain is never for nothing.  God always hides miracles and gifts amid the rocks along the way. 

So when you go from this place today, I hope you go away encouraged.  God is always working miracles in your life, even though you can’t see his magic wand.  God’s compassion shows up in all sorts of surprising ways if we just remember to look for it.  Call these things coincidence.  Call them serendipity.   Call them what you like, but I call them miracles.  I think they are little post-it notes from God reminding us that we are not alone.  Just wave back, and say “thanks.”

Amen.