The last couple of Sundays I have celebrated mass there has been a woman that has refused to take communion from me. She was a member of a congregation where I use to serve as rector (pastor) of the church. I am not particularly sure what her issue is with me.
At the current congregation where this woman is a member, I am there a couple of times a month. I work somewhere else as an administrator and educator. The above mentioned woman joined this congregation in protest of my leadership at the last church.
I am somewhat ambivalent about this woman's actions. I genuinely don't care. Since I am no longer her pastor, I don't think it is my responsibility to resolve it. I find her behavior odd, though. It's rather strange that a person would come to church, profess the Gospel, confess their sins and receive absolution, pass the peace, offer the prayers of the church, and then refuse communion. Sleep in, save the gass money and watch "Meet the Press." Okay, that's what I prefer to do, but that's just me.
With regards to this woman, I don't have an issue with her. I don't know anything about this woman. I barely know her name. I actually am somewhat elated that I am worthy of protest by this woman. I appreciate the fact that I mean so much to a stranger that she would take such a defiant stance towards me. I imagine it would be bad form to rob this woman of her disgust towards me by attempting to be charitable towards her.
I know that I have issues that may turn some people off. I just don't think enough of the people that I usually offend to change my issues. G-d forgive me for the hubris of liking myself more than liking those that don't like me.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Chanting with Krishna Das
Krishna Das is amazing! He led a Kirtan crowd of over 500 hundred people at the Ethical Society in St. Louis on Tuesday, April 22, 2009. It was his first time performing in St. Louis. For many in the crowd, it was their first time experiencing this genuine, grace filled individual and his music. Incidentally, his musicians were awesome, and the chanting was superb.
I was fortunate to meet him the day prior at a dinner party. It was an intimate gathering hosted by a wonderful couple in the trendy central west end of St. Louis. KD (Krishna Das) arrived late after having car trouble in Kansas City, MO. Tired and distracted, he intended to stay for a small length of time. However, as he began to share about his blessed teacher, Neem Karoli Baba, he began rating a joy and love that transformed everyone in his presence. KD seemed to relax and flow into the peace that he was radiating to us.
(I would encourage people to read Miracle of Love by Ram Dass. Another devotee of Neem Karola Baba, he tells many wonderful stories about him.)
One of the things that I admired most about KD is that he does not exhibit the least bit of ego. It may be there, I just didn't experience it. Prior to and after the show, he intermingled with the audience. He made time for everyone that wanted to meet him, take pictures with him, and ask questions. He makes no pretense of being someone other than what he is: a spiritual devotee who offers through his Kirtan practice devotion to G-d and to his teacher.
I originally saw him last August in Columbia, MO. Both then and now, I felt my own heart increasing in its capacity to receive and give love. Sure, I am guilty of sounding like another blissed out, long hair, Earth Day yoga person chanting OM, right? Admittedly, I am all of these things.
Yet, it is rare to be in the presence of a room full individuals whose sole purpose in gathering is to chant the names of the Divine, regardless of our own individual religions and spiritual traditions. Though I am proudly a Christian priest, I am a bit jaded by the relentless dogma and doctrines that arise from many organized traditions including the Episcopal Church, of which I am a part.
Jaded does not mean disloyal or indifferent, but tired of the separation that comes from adhering to one fixed view over another. Chanting Kirtan, I am not advocating a view. I am not evangelizing on behalf of a perspective. Rather, I am offering myself-off key singing and all, in celebration of life itself.
I trust that is what Jazz musician John Coltrane meant by a "love supreme." While committed to a specific path, I do believe all authentic paths lead to G-d. I don't want to stand in the position of having to authenticate for another person their path to follow. I just think their is room for all of us on all of our paths to come together in a spirit of peace, compassion and joy. Some members of the St. Louis community did that with Krishna Das.
Om Shanti.
I was fortunate to meet him the day prior at a dinner party. It was an intimate gathering hosted by a wonderful couple in the trendy central west end of St. Louis. KD (Krishna Das) arrived late after having car trouble in Kansas City, MO. Tired and distracted, he intended to stay for a small length of time. However, as he began to share about his blessed teacher, Neem Karoli Baba, he began rating a joy and love that transformed everyone in his presence. KD seemed to relax and flow into the peace that he was radiating to us.
(I would encourage people to read Miracle of Love by Ram Dass. Another devotee of Neem Karola Baba, he tells many wonderful stories about him.)
One of the things that I admired most about KD is that he does not exhibit the least bit of ego. It may be there, I just didn't experience it. Prior to and after the show, he intermingled with the audience. He made time for everyone that wanted to meet him, take pictures with him, and ask questions. He makes no pretense of being someone other than what he is: a spiritual devotee who offers through his Kirtan practice devotion to G-d and to his teacher.
I originally saw him last August in Columbia, MO. Both then and now, I felt my own heart increasing in its capacity to receive and give love. Sure, I am guilty of sounding like another blissed out, long hair, Earth Day yoga person chanting OM, right? Admittedly, I am all of these things.
Yet, it is rare to be in the presence of a room full individuals whose sole purpose in gathering is to chant the names of the Divine, regardless of our own individual religions and spiritual traditions. Though I am proudly a Christian priest, I am a bit jaded by the relentless dogma and doctrines that arise from many organized traditions including the Episcopal Church, of which I am a part.
Jaded does not mean disloyal or indifferent, but tired of the separation that comes from adhering to one fixed view over another. Chanting Kirtan, I am not advocating a view. I am not evangelizing on behalf of a perspective. Rather, I am offering myself-off key singing and all, in celebration of life itself.
I trust that is what Jazz musician John Coltrane meant by a "love supreme." While committed to a specific path, I do believe all authentic paths lead to G-d. I don't want to stand in the position of having to authenticate for another person their path to follow. I just think their is room for all of us on all of our paths to come together in a spirit of peace, compassion and joy. Some members of the St. Louis community did that with Krishna Das.
Om Shanti.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Confession
I am preparing to offer my confession in a few days. Unlike Roman Catholics, Episcopalians have the option of confessing their sins privately to a priest, but it is not mandated. It is offered as a form of pastoral care. Since I am a Franciscan Tertiary (I live under the Rule of St. Francis at home, I'm not a celibate friar), I am mandated by our rule to make my confession at least once a year. By the way, Episcopalians technically refer to confession as the "Rite of Reconciliation of a Penitent."
I am getting anxious thinking about it, because I'm not sure exactly what I want to confess. It isn't that I don't have issues or problems; I just am not sure what is worth discussing. Sure, let's assume the obvious, for example. I think about attractive women, alot. It seems rather old fashioned to identify it as lust, but I am not sure what else to call it.
It's not like I want to tell the priest about trips I use to make to the strip club back in my early 20s with my friends. That's kind of embarssing. Not that I went to the club, mind you. That was fun. I just don't want to talk about sex in the house of the Lord. I am assuming it doesn't count what I use to do in college, because that was years ago, right?
Admittely, in terms of other moral failings, I'm not always the most even tempered person. I am prone to hold grudges against others. I wrestle with being nice to people I don't like or that don't like me. Truth be told, I have a tendency to be self-centered and self-involved.
Again, is that worth telling another person? It is stating the obvious. I'm generally pretty honest with myself, or as much as I can be. I like myself, but I am not blind to my faults. I am kind of surprised when others pretend they don't have faults. After years of therapy, I'm use to discussing embarrassing things about myself with another person.
Despite all my sophistication and open mindedness about psychology and 21st century morality, there is still that infantile part of me that wants to square things with the "big man/woman upstairs" just in case I've been wrong all these years. Still, even with all my theological training and supposed understanding, I feel awkward talking to a priest about things that either I talk about in therapy or laugh about with my buddies.
My priest-confessor wants to use Form II in the Book of Common Prayer (Episcopal prayer book) when we meet. He thinks it is more demonstrative of God's grace than Form I (which is pretty hard line and old school). I am fond of the words of invitation in Form II the priest makes before hearing my sin: "May God in his {her} loving kindness enlighten your heart, that you may remember in truth all yours sins and his {her} unfailing mercy" (BCP, p. 449). It's the emphasis on G-d's mercy that I think is pretty cool.
I don't really believed G-d is keeping score of anything that I will say about my sins. I figure s/he already knows. I do believe that whatever we mean by G-d is by nature is compassionate and understanding. I just want to hear it from another person after I tell them what a screw up I am. It feels good knowing I'll be told I'm all right after all. Yep, no matter what I say, the priest has got to bless me. That's very cool. I'll try to listen for the part that says sin more more, but I am a sinner after all, lol.
I am getting anxious thinking about it, because I'm not sure exactly what I want to confess. It isn't that I don't have issues or problems; I just am not sure what is worth discussing. Sure, let's assume the obvious, for example. I think about attractive women, alot. It seems rather old fashioned to identify it as lust, but I am not sure what else to call it.
It's not like I want to tell the priest about trips I use to make to the strip club back in my early 20s with my friends. That's kind of embarssing. Not that I went to the club, mind you. That was fun. I just don't want to talk about sex in the house of the Lord. I am assuming it doesn't count what I use to do in college, because that was years ago, right?
Admittely, in terms of other moral failings, I'm not always the most even tempered person. I am prone to hold grudges against others. I wrestle with being nice to people I don't like or that don't like me. Truth be told, I have a tendency to be self-centered and self-involved.
Again, is that worth telling another person? It is stating the obvious. I'm generally pretty honest with myself, or as much as I can be. I like myself, but I am not blind to my faults. I am kind of surprised when others pretend they don't have faults. After years of therapy, I'm use to discussing embarrassing things about myself with another person.
Despite all my sophistication and open mindedness about psychology and 21st century morality, there is still that infantile part of me that wants to square things with the "big man/woman upstairs" just in case I've been wrong all these years. Still, even with all my theological training and supposed understanding, I feel awkward talking to a priest about things that either I talk about in therapy or laugh about with my buddies.
My priest-confessor wants to use Form II in the Book of Common Prayer (Episcopal prayer book) when we meet. He thinks it is more demonstrative of God's grace than Form I (which is pretty hard line and old school). I am fond of the words of invitation in Form II the priest makes before hearing my sin: "May God in his {her} loving kindness enlighten your heart, that you may remember in truth all yours sins and his {her} unfailing mercy" (BCP, p. 449). It's the emphasis on G-d's mercy that I think is pretty cool.
I don't really believed G-d is keeping score of anything that I will say about my sins. I figure s/he already knows. I do believe that whatever we mean by G-d is by nature is compassionate and understanding. I just want to hear it from another person after I tell them what a screw up I am. It feels good knowing I'll be told I'm all right after all. Yep, no matter what I say, the priest has got to bless me. That's very cool. I'll try to listen for the part that says sin more more, but I am a sinner after all, lol.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Thank "G-d" Lent is Almost Over!
I am glad Lent is coming to an end tomorrow. It's been hard work keeping up the Lenten devotions. I have stayed away from fried foods, neglected my intention of reading the Morning Office every day, and my legs are perpetually cramped from all the zazen meditation I have been doing at the local Zen center.
I have been going to the zendo (meditation hall) a couple of days each week. I wanted to sit intentionally in the silence to connect to "G-d." I suppose it's rather funny that a Christian would seek out "G-d" (whatever that may mean) in a Buddhist center. Buddhism is an non-theistic religion, though I find it to be very spiritual. I came up with the idea to sit zazen as part of my Lenten devotion after reading that an Episcopal bishop-elect had took his lay ordination vows in Zen Buddhism.
Lay Ordination in the Mahayana tradition (the Greater Vehicle,) of which Zen is a part, is comprises of taking 5 precepts (vows). They are: abstained from killing, misuse of intoxicants, false speech, sexual misconduct,and stealing. These are consistent with the baptismal and confirmation vows in the Episcopal Church. Yet, this bishop-elect has been receiving a hard time from some who think it inappropriate for a Christian bishop to practice Buddhist meditation.
In a similar vein, a female Episcopal priest was defrocked (thrown out) by her bishop for proclaiming that she could be both a Christian priest and a Muslim. As both of these are two separate theisitc religious traditions (albeit with a shared origin from Judaism), I can somewhat concede the confusion. Yet, as both are monotheistic traditions, I am not sure that it was completely inappropriate for her to follow both paths. Maybe what we call "G-d" is big enough to transcend our religious traditions? Besides, the former priest in question is an academic. Everyone knows professors are different. I think she should have been given a break.
One of my constant rubs in both situations is that I think the organized structures of our religious systems inevitably puts people in dire straights. I suspect it is not intentional, but what is one to do when part of the way we strengthen our faith is to connect to practices and insights that arise outside of our traditions. Christ was a Jew. The Buddha was a Hindu. Sort of ironic that the traditions they later inspired cannot be reconciled to the traditions from which they came.
Me, myself, I dig the experiences I have been having at the Zen center, as a Christian. Zen is relatively non-dogmatic. They are pretty clear that they see the Buddha as a human being who found a pragmatic way to deal with suffering. If what he taught squares with one's experience, use it. If it doesn't, discard it. That makes sense to me.
As Lent gives way to Easter tomorrow, I realize that I want to be a person of integrity about my faith. I don't want to deny my experiences of faith only to make someone else feel more comfortable. I like hanging out with both Christians and Buddhist. One of my good friends is a Hindu.
I may be wrong, but I don't think "G-d" has a problem with any of it. I think it's our head trip. I keep putting "G-d" in quotations, because I don't want to define the term. I'll leave that to others to fill in the blank. I am cool with what I think I mean by it, but am willing to let my own experience negotiate my meaning. Peace.
I have been going to the zendo (meditation hall) a couple of days each week. I wanted to sit intentionally in the silence to connect to "G-d." I suppose it's rather funny that a Christian would seek out "G-d" (whatever that may mean) in a Buddhist center. Buddhism is an non-theistic religion, though I find it to be very spiritual. I came up with the idea to sit zazen as part of my Lenten devotion after reading that an Episcopal bishop-elect had took his lay ordination vows in Zen Buddhism.
Lay Ordination in the Mahayana tradition (the Greater Vehicle,) of which Zen is a part, is comprises of taking 5 precepts (vows). They are: abstained from killing, misuse of intoxicants, false speech, sexual misconduct,and stealing. These are consistent with the baptismal and confirmation vows in the Episcopal Church. Yet, this bishop-elect has been receiving a hard time from some who think it inappropriate for a Christian bishop to practice Buddhist meditation.
In a similar vein, a female Episcopal priest was defrocked (thrown out) by her bishop for proclaiming that she could be both a Christian priest and a Muslim. As both of these are two separate theisitc religious traditions (albeit with a shared origin from Judaism), I can somewhat concede the confusion. Yet, as both are monotheistic traditions, I am not sure that it was completely inappropriate for her to follow both paths. Maybe what we call "G-d" is big enough to transcend our religious traditions? Besides, the former priest in question is an academic. Everyone knows professors are different. I think she should have been given a break.
One of my constant rubs in both situations is that I think the organized structures of our religious systems inevitably puts people in dire straights. I suspect it is not intentional, but what is one to do when part of the way we strengthen our faith is to connect to practices and insights that arise outside of our traditions. Christ was a Jew. The Buddha was a Hindu. Sort of ironic that the traditions they later inspired cannot be reconciled to the traditions from which they came.
Me, myself, I dig the experiences I have been having at the Zen center, as a Christian. Zen is relatively non-dogmatic. They are pretty clear that they see the Buddha as a human being who found a pragmatic way to deal with suffering. If what he taught squares with one's experience, use it. If it doesn't, discard it. That makes sense to me.
As Lent gives way to Easter tomorrow, I realize that I want to be a person of integrity about my faith. I don't want to deny my experiences of faith only to make someone else feel more comfortable. I like hanging out with both Christians and Buddhist. One of my good friends is a Hindu.
I may be wrong, but I don't think "G-d" has a problem with any of it. I think it's our head trip. I keep putting "G-d" in quotations, because I don't want to define the term. I'll leave that to others to fill in the blank. I am cool with what I think I mean by it, but am willing to let my own experience negotiate my meaning. Peace.
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