Wondering about Wholeness

I have just returned from a week at the 14th Uniting Church Assembly. The meeting was held in Winthrop Hall, University of Western Australia. Those of you who know this stunning building may remember the amazing mandala that is found towering in the front in the form of a rosary window. There is nothing like a mighty archetype of wholeness as a constant reflection point as we talked about who we are as the church and how we relate to each other.

The church talks a lot about wholeness. It is what we hope for ourselves, the world and others. Many of the stories of Jesus are centred around a search for wholeness. Our western society, however, has a way of disintegrating us, fragmenting us. We are divided into flesh and spirit; physical, psychological and spiritual; while all we long for is to be integrated and one.

As I meditated on the mandala, I became very aware of the ways that the church can fragment rather than bring wholeness. It was very clear that for some in the church the work of wholeness is a lot easier than for others. I certainly felt this privilege throughout the Assembly meeting. Not once did I feel, for any reason, that I did not belong, that I could not contribute or that I may be judged. I did, however, experience others making themselves extremely vulnerable; those who had difficulty expressing themselves in the dominant language, those who with great courage crossed cultural differences to engage in our way of making decisions and those who risked sharing their hurts of being judged for their sexual orientation.

As I looked into the faces of these people silhouetted by the mandala behind them, I was left with nothing but admiration. Their longing for wholeness and acceptance in the church was a struggle. The place where grace and wholeness should have been readily available had often be the stumbling block. It is a challenge to keep in sight the vision Jesus had for our world and our relationships. We get so tied up with doing church that we forget to be church. It is hard work.

My prayer for myself in the days ahead is that each person I meet will have that window of wholeness behind them as a reminder to work for wholeness for all people in all situations.

Sticking with the church

A little over a week ago, I was saddened to hear the news of the death of Marcus Borg. Since then I have read many articles and blogs praising him for his scholarship and his ability to communicate to those who had grown disenchanted with the traditional message portrayed by the church. I first became aware of Borg's writings early in my ministry training. It was like a breath of fresh air. I had read Spong and some other progressive theologians who were either very wordy and intellectual or tended to pull the rug of faith out from under you. Borg's approach was more accessible and gentle. In telling his own story, I could believe that there was a way through the muddy mire of theological confusion. It gave me hope. 

I have read many reflections that have described how Marcus Borg enabled them to remain a Christian. For me it was more that he helped me to stick with the church. There have been many times where I become tired of the church, it's politics and dogma. I have often wondered if it easier to be a genuine Christian outside the church. And then I read people like Borg who have been on this same journey, have reimagined what it means to be a follower of Jesus and have paved a way for others. 

I wrote a reflection only last week that expressed my frustration and longings. I titled it Enough.

Enough of words and trying to explain

I long to sit by the sea

Enough of prayers that righteously ramble

The silence is drawing me in

Enough of getting it right for all to see

Content in my skin I will be

Enough of judgment, labels and dogma

I rest in deep truth from within

Enough of perfection

Enough of survival

Enough of victory over sin

More stillness

More wonder, more awe, more life

More loving and breathing and whim

Enough of certainty, clubs and exclusion

Enough of pedestals, politics, platitudes

Enough of niceness, numbness, nameless

Enough of flat and fake and fickle

Take me to a place where the sun's rays warm my heart

Let the veil be thin

Let me soak in the mystery

And just be.... Enough.

We complicate things so much in the church. We forget that the vision of Jesus was about inclusion, loving people and being in relationship with God. Marcus Borg helped me to see that being a Christian is possible in the church. Sounds crazy - I know. And so now as I prepare to go back into ministry after three weeks break, I need to hear Marcus Borg fresh again. I need to strip away the tangles that the church puts around God and the person of Jesus and be excited again by the simplicity of what Jesus preached. Thank you Marcus Borg. 

Focussing the Vision

I have always admired people who seem to have a clear sense of call or vision for their life. Everything in their life seems to point towards the goal. They live with purpose, drive and a sense of satisfaction. I often wonder if the vision before them is as clear as it appears from the outside. I know that this is certainly not the case for me.

I seem to live my life trying to find the right glasses to get my life in focus. Some of you will know that my life after school began in secondary teaching. I justified my missing out on other university options as a sign from God that I was meant to be a teacher. I loved teaching, but after a while the vision became blurry and I knew it was time to search for new lenses to bring some clarity. I began studying theology.

The fog cleared and once again there was a clear way ahead; teaching Faith and Values. But no, a few years later (a long story) I was hit with a strong sense of clarity to explore ordained ministry. I thought I had found that sense of purpose that I had always admired in others. I had found the lens that gave me focus and vision. Hadn't I?

Maybe I have a restless soul. Maybe I'm just a searcher, a seeker. But it seems to me that this process of discernment and call is never ending. Whenever I feel I have made it, I have a clear vision, something changes and it all becomes a blur once more. The scenery is everchanging, perhaps becoming deeper. As it is with our own vision, a change in depth causes our eyes to refocus.

There have already been a few significant, refocusing moments since I entered into ministry. Each has brought with it some chaos, some liberation and some form of transformation in my life.  And so, I find myself once again attempting to refocus, find some clarity and sharpen my vision for what is ahead. Yes, there is part of me that still wishes for more certainty and security. However, I would give all that up for the depth and the refining that comes with continual discernment. So here we go again.

Your image of God creates you

Well, I couldn't leave this one alone. My meditation from Richard Rohr today encourages the reader to repeat the mantra, "Your image of God creates you". He describes that this is the foundation to our theology, our approach to Scripture and spirituality. For me, this statement could not be more true. I see it in myself and I see it in people I meet.

When I was younger my image of God was of a loving, fatherly figure with very high expectations. God's rules were put in place to protect us and guide us, therefore, we should follow them. This image of God certainly created me as a young person. My main objective in life was to be good; to say and do the right things. Rebellious people were to be feared, but somehow intrigued me at the same time (especially if they called themselves Christians). Perfection was to be sought after and striven for in all things. I had very high expectations of myself and felt that everyone else expected the same from me.

It has taken me a long time to begin to change these things and loosen up a little. This has only been possible as my image of God has changed over the years. As I have studied scripture and theology and listened to the stories of people who have different life experiences, God has become too big for my limiting box and burst open the lid. My image of God has broadened, deepened and become more mysterious. As I have given more freedom to my image of God, so too have I found freedom. I am a little less concerned about God's rules these days and a little more inclined to think that life is messy, rather than perfect. Where my image of God had once been about perfection, it is now about freedom.

I am quite content that what I know is nothing. I am more open to the surprises God has for me. But I must say it saddens me to watch others with such different images of God create this in themselves. I have seen judgmental remarks arise from believing in a judging God. I have seen deep anger rage from an image of an angry, vengeful God. Our image of God, let's face it, is just that - OUR image of God.

Although my understanding of God is certainly limited, I can only hope that the image of God's love inclusiveness, grace and forgiveness will be created within me.

Dancing with Someone

I picked up a book of daily meditations by Richard Rohr on the weekend and committed to reading one a day. I am often far from disciplined in my spiritual life and so when I find something that might keep me on track for a while I grab it. I've only been reading the meditations for three days, but am convinced that this book found me.

Yesterday's reading took me back a few years to a retreat I attended. The group was challenged to spend some time reflecting on what our soul space looked like. This soul space is the "place" that, at the best of times, is filled with God or the Spirit and, at the most difficult times, seems empty. At the time I imagined my soul space as a large ballroom. The space was largely unused as I sat quietly, and somewhat comfortably in the centre. My realisation during this reflection was that a ballroom is made for dancing. I began to see my relationship with the divine as a dance that filled that big, empty ballroom taking me uncomfortably out to the edges of the space.

Yesterday's meditation from Richard Rohr was about a different kind of knowing God. He says, "God becomes more a verb than noun, more a process than a conclusion, more an experience than a dogma, more a personal relationship than an idea. There is Someone dancing with you, and you no longer need to prove to anyone that you are right, nor are you afraid of mistakes." What a beautiful image!

I can't say that I am the most comfortable dancer. It often takes a few drinks at a wedding to get me on the dance floor, but once I'm there I enjoy it. Dancing is about the experience, the relationship, being vulnerable and being held. This is how I view my relationship with God. God is not in the audience watching and waiting for my mistakes, but there dancing with me and part of the movement.

The reading for today was about prayer. This is another part of my spiritual life that I often struggle with. I have often been cynical about prayer and how it can be used abusively in churches. Part of my job each week is to choose or write prayers that connect with the people in my congregations. So often, words seem inadequate. I am far more comfortable lighting a candle, dropping a rock in water or sitting in silence. These days my personal prayer life has no words. I sit in quiet. I close my eyes and soak up the warmth of the sun. I watch intently for the signs of God around me. I listen. I gaze on God and allow God to gaze on me.

Richard Rohr comments that we sometimes make prayer "a pious exercise that somehow makes God happy, or a requirement for entry into heaven." Maybe this is why I often feel cynical about prayer. He goes on to say, "It is much more like practicing heaven now." What could be more heavenly than dancing with God, no words needed. In this ballroom there is freedom and life. In the dance there is passion and spirit. In the movement there is rhythm and intimacy. How would it be to imagine our spiritual journey not as linear with a goal up ahead, but as a dance circling and turning within us?

Unbind

There have been plenty of times in the last month where I have started writing a post only to delete the whole thing. I know that I am going through a significant transition time in my own spiritual life and sometimes that can be a bit messy. You can throw the pain of it out onto other people and be a little less positive about life than usual. So you can imagine how some of those unpublished posts may have read. 

But today it seems to flow a little easier, with a little less cynicism and a little more integrity. And funnily enough it takes me back to the near the beginning of this time of change. At the end of July I attended a Christian Meditation Community retreat with our Christian Meditation group. The theme for the retreat was "The Lazarus Story - unbinding and going free". The theme spoke straight into what I was going through and gave it a name. We spoke about freedom and what this really means in our lives. 

I had just come through a time of growth and feel a new sense of freedom. What I hadn't anticipated was the learning that would need to occur in order to be free. It seemed such a simple thing - to be free. But who knew that you would need to learn to be free. There is so much unbinding, so much unlearning, so much adjusting to be done. I certainly don't claim to be through this time of unbinding, but I'm through it enough to see what it is. Here is a humble attempt to describe it based on Lazarus imagery. 

Unbind

Awakened from sleep

Eyes opened to light 

All I longed for now blinds me in pain

Numb muscles of death

Now frozen in fear

Your familiar voice calls again

Freedom's lure is cast

A promise of life

Warm blood through dry veins starts to seep

At the door trembling

Each step hesitates

My heart races, the soul wants to leap

Stumbling and tripping

Bound by death's clothing

The tomb's safety beckons and calls

Constrained by the known

Held tight and secure

Life unravels and at my feet falls

"Unbind and let go

Loosen and set free"

Rags peel from my face, spill to the ground

Shallow breathing ends

Lungs fill and expand

Let this new life begin, I am found.

Everyone's Waiting

I have just got home from our Chritian Meditation group and on the way home I listened to one of my favourite Missy Higgins songs, "Everyone's Waiting". Written in a completely different context to my own, nevertheless it rang bells of truth. The lyrics are as follows.

I know all the lines to say

The part I’m expected to play

But in the reflection I am worlds away

As I put my costume on

Eyelashes one by one

Been doing this so long I can tie the knot

Behind my back

And everyone’s waiting

But it’s getting harder to hear what my heart is saying

Cos everyone’s waiting

"Just swallow and breathe," she says,

"Remember this ain’t for you it’s for them

And all of those painful lessons you’ve had to learn

You gotta use them now or never"

Cos everyone’s waiting

But it’s getting harder to hear

What my heart keeps saying

Turn it off, I wanna turn it all off

When everyone’s waiting

It makes it harder to hear what my heart keeps saying

Turn it off, I wanna turn it all off

But everyone’s waiting

I hear that answers appear when you just stand still

But make it all, how do you make it all stop

When everyone’s waiting?

Everyone's waiting.

Our Christian Meditation group is an opportunity each week to find that space to just be still for a short time. It never seems to be long enough and there is always the reality that everyone is waiting on the other side. Waiting for an email, waiting for a phone call, waiting for dinner, waiting for help with homework, waiting for the Sunday service, waiting, waiting waiting. The demands of life will always be waiting. There are times when we just have to get on with it, put the costume on, swallow and breathe. But there are also times when we need to say, 'Yes, everyone's waiting and they can wait a little longer."