The Lenten Writings: when they are not…

Whatever happens, says our model, happens to God also and not just to us. The body of God, shaped by the Christic paradigm, is also the cosmic Christ—the loving, compassionate God on the side of those who suffer, especially the vulnerable and excluded. All are included, not only in their liberation and healing, but also in their defeat and despair. Even as the life-giving breath extends to all bodies in the universe, so also does the liberating, healing, andsuffering love of God. The resurrected Christ is the cosmic Christ, the Christ freed from the body of Jesus of Nazareth, to be present in and to all bodies. The New Testament appearance stories attest to the continuing empowerment of the Christic paradigm in the world: the liberating, inclusive love of God for all is alive in and through the entire cosmos. We are not alone as we attempt to practice the ministry of inclusion, for the power of God is incarnate throughout the world, erupting now and then where the vulnerable are liberated and healed, as well as where they are not. (Theologian Sally McFague, quoted in Daily Meditation email from Richard Rohr 03/07/2019)

These words are radical, some would say they border on heresy. I would challenge you to not place that label too quickly; but rather, to dare to take the words into your place of knowing.

The very presence of God, of the Divine, is the essence of faith. It is what makes a person truly human. It is as I look into the eyes of another and DARE to see Another that I understand my own humanity.

It is in that bold gaze that I can see another as my brother. It is in that gaze that I can truly see myself. I see my gay brother as me, I see my bi friend as me, I see my trans friend as me. I see my hermana de Guatemala as me, I see my hermano de Mexico as me, I see the man on the corner with battered sign “I will not steal” as me.

It is not because I am holy that I can say this. (FYI- I am not). It is because I know deeply my own story. And in that story there is goodness and harm, courage and violence. As I do the hard work of entering my own narrative, I have the right to hold space to listen to a midnight recounting of childhood trauma. It is as I sit with suffering that does not end, I have the right to sit with a person in labor and say “Yes, you can do this.”

In this place, understanding that the very power of God is incarnate, there are no borders, no barriers. There is only the very essence of the Divine.

And it is present…

When there is healing and hope…

And

When

There

Is

Not.

The Lenten Writings: the beginning of the end

Christ has no body now, but yours.
No hands, no feet on earth, but yours.
Yours are the eyes through which
Christ looks compassion into the world.
Yours are the feet
with which Christ walks to do good.
Yours are the hands
with which Christ blesses the world.

Theresa of Avila

Lent.

The beginning of the end.

The end of the beginning.

As you enter the Lenten season, would you journey with me?

Today I turned off facebook, printed some Praying in Color Lenten templates, and prepared my heart.

Lent is new too me, a recovering Baptist. I was introduced in the Mystic Activists. I was first marked by ashes from a prison parish priest. It was a singular experience.

Except for the obvious dunking ritual, Baptist’s shy away from externals. There is goodness in that; as faith is a very personal deal. How I encounter the Mystery may take a lifetime to unfold, and may not look very churchy.

But I think humans need ritual. It grounds me, it reminds me of the rhythms of the year, and it gives me pause. In this busy space called life, it is good to pause.

Enter Ash Wednesday.