I hate coming up with titles.

I felt an incredible wave of loneliness, this morning.

I feel silly saying it, but it is, in part, because of the end of the Harry Potter books. Don't get me wrong . . . I know it's fiction, I am not delusional. Still, escape has been a large part of my life, and Rowling's books have provided a good deal of escape. It's easier than sitting in the pre-dawn quiet, realizing that you've spent almost 40 years on this planet, and it's meant absolutely nothing! I have no aim, no purpose. No anything.

Let's cut off some suggestions, before they start: I have no interest in volunteering time I don't have, to causes I'm not interested in. I'm not a "people person." I've always been absolutely unimpressed by all these people who spend so much time at this, that, or the other charity, while doing no work on themselves and ignoring the people directly in their lives.

But, I still am left with the problem of my life being for no purpose. I think that's why Rowling and Tolkien are my favorites; the simple fact is, I've never been very good at an ordinary life, and don't have access to a life as extraordinary as is required for me -- there's no Voldemort or Sauron out there for me to conquer, (or become in my darker times). I'm completely mediocre and living in completely mediocre times. I have not talents, nothing that makes me special, except that a few others think me special. I'm bored with living, and I'm bored because I'm boring! I know this is all egotism, but it still leaves me just crushed down and despairing of ever looking at a life that was ever anything but drifting.

Obviously, the cameraderie of the stories, both Tolkien's and Rowling's, are part of the appeal, the escape -- the feeling that you're in an actual group, yourself. Surely, the loneliness indicates a need for companionship, but romance is not something I'm interested in, and friends are notorious for going away, so . . . it really seems rather pointless.

Anyway, that's me babbling for today.

In the Interest of Honesty

I keep hearing the reasserters repeating the same tired party-line and saying it's all in the interest of honest dialogue.

So, in the interest of the honesty reasserters claim to value, here ya go, guys:

Reasserters,

I don't trust you. I don't believe, for a second, that you mean anything but harm to me and mine. I don't believe that you lie, but simply that you cannot tell what truth is, and, if it's shown to you, will ignore it. I don't believe you can be dealt with in good faith, because it's not in you. I believe it is no longer helpful, and, for us reappraisers, has become actively harmful to us and ours to keep on dealing with you -- not just a "go your own way if you wish, reasserter brethren" but a "Time for you to go!" If I saw any of you "correcting" your reasserter brethren on their assumptions, stereotypes and name-calling as assiduously as you do us reappraisers, I might believe there was some point in continuing to try to dialogue with you, if you even said with any conviction that you might be wrong, if you made any attempt to refute the most vilely and clearly deceitful and hateful of you, I might be tempted to believe you at least mean well. You don't . You're family, but you're not my brothers -- no brother would do me the harm you have then lie about it, trying to pass it off as benefit -- and some family is toxic, and should only be met on neutral ground -- outside of your own home.

So, there's your honesty.

Those Who've Read Deathly Hallows Should Understand

Anglican "orthodox" in America have a new PR angle!

FOR THE GREATER GOOD!

The Cool, Cool Considerate Set

Fr. Jake's made mention of musicals, and I was reminded, rather forcefully, of this one. It's one I've actually been in. This particular number, which was one of my favorites to perform every night, moreso than my rather nerve-racking solo.

I bring it here today, because it sums up so much, in my opinion, of what's wrong now with those claiming "moderate" or "conservative" both in church and state; the same reasoning for refusing to stand up to tyranny, the same men and women who say, "What we do, we do rationally." The character I played (here played by the wonderful John Cullum, best known from Northern Exposure as Holling Vincoeur), takes the line I hear under the rationalizing of so many "moderates" -- "We say this game's not of our choosing, why should we risk losing?"

(I will admit that, in our production, I actually did wear the heavy brocade, lace, high-heels and powdered wig eschewed in the film production, and loved it. My brother said that, without his glasses on, I looked to him like a white cat sitting on an up-ended loveseat)

This Was My Nephew

Jacques Earl "Gus" Brunson

He was 30 years old, serving in the Army National Guard in Iraq, when an "improvised explosive device" killed him, on July 24, 2005. He left behind two children, an ex-wife, both parents, two sisters, a brother, and, of course, all the rest of us.

May Light Perpetual shine upon him.

All The Cool Toys Came After I Was a Kid

Well!

Epiphany

I had a sudden and unexpected realization last night:

I deserve better than this!

I mean, here I am in a job I can't feel secure in, in a house I can't afford to repair, in a town that I really don't love. Even if there is no other reason than that God loves me, I deserve better than this!

That's the great part. The bad part is, that doesn't help in the slightest. For most people, depression is a feeling of being down on life -- that's my general attitude toward life. Depression, for me, is the point at which the pain is so great I simply have to howl it to someone. Most people see it as whining, I suppose, but I really don't know how to pull myself out, how to have confidence, joy, or, at least make the effort, that I see in those I admire, like James, Mimi, MadPriest, all people with pain, but who keep going and seeming, at least, to see some possible satisfaction in life. For me, life is like an illness - it's something you endure, but you don't long for it, and look forward to its being over. My worldview has a continuum of bearable-unbearable, with no room for joy or even contentment on the scale. It's a worldview in which I don't ask people "What should I do?" because they'll simply say, "You're on your own." I could believe that my stagnation is humility, but that my soul and mind rebel against my circumstances. Don't misunderstand - I don't expect life could be delirious happiness at all times, nor do I expect anyone to "solve" my life for me, but how do you even know where to start or how to proceed? I deserve better; contentment, joy.

Again, it's my worldview: I have no ability, no will, so I can't rely on myself. I've never questioned God's existence, but He's always been for everyone else -- so no help there. So, how do you know what you want and pursue it? How do you trust in yourself and others -- and the Other? How do you not just crouch, hoping life won't notice you, expecting all change to bring badness down on you, expecting all effort to make things worse?


How the hell do you people do that?

Well, Everyone Else Has Weighed In

As far as I'm able to tell, Elizabeth Kaeton seems to have made remarks about someone's private life without having full knowledge of the circumstances --

Well! We gays and liberals have no idea what that must be like!

Then Elizabeth apologized, but didn't do it right or enough.

Yet, we gays and liberals take whatever slander and libel is thrown our way, and are told "It's meant in love!" and that's supposed to be allright.

You're not special, reasserters! Lots o' people on that stage besides you. You don't give respect, so you don't get it. It's not Christ's ideal, but there you have it.

A Question.

Keeping with the pattern of lectio I mentioned earlier, it would be helpful if someone could explain to me the concept of "wedding garment" as used in the Matthew text. Clearly, "wedding garment" in that context had more of a meaning than simply "really nice clothes" as we'd mean for attending a wedding -- unless God simply looks to throw us out because we're not well-dressed, in which case gays and lesbians are the least of Christianity's problems. Forget exorcists, call a tailor!

(Silliness aside, an explanation of the place of "wedding garment" in that story would be helpful)

Updates and Thoughts

I am allright. I have been for awhile, it's just that, everybody expects that being allright means you have an optimistic outlook. That simply isn't realistic for some of us. I'm not ever going to be comfortable or secure in my life, and may well die alone and forgotten. So be it. It's not in me to make that different. I'm not social, not ambitious, not particularly bright or well-educated, not loveable or charismatic, not given to putting up with fools, however powerful, and not blessed with wealthy friends or acquaintances. That is simply how things are. I'm up a tree so "Enjoy it!"

Suffering. Suffering gets a bad rap, in liberal theology, but it shouldn't. It's one of those things we all have to do, and no one can fully alleviate. I see so many new agers who embrace all things with a Buddhist veneer, but balk when you tell them the First Noble Truth -- "All life is suffering." Which is a pity, 'cause if they stuck with it, they'd see that the suffering is caused by grasping, thinking this is good, that is bad. Give that up, no suffering.

This is not a foreign idea to Christianity. It's acquired a level of distaste because Augustinian theology and later fundamentalism assigned to suffering the place of an absolute good; suffering builds character. Yet Christ doesn't give that impression, at least not exclusively. The bad news for those of us who reject the Fundamentalist "Public School" ethic that "suffering builds character!": Christ did talk about the necessity of suffering, taking up crosses, laboring in the harvest, etc. But, implicitly, as opposed to Buddha's explicit Four Truths, He also gave us the secret of suffering's value -- it teaches us not to cling to things of this world. He tells us once, explicitly, not to lay up our treasure on Earth. Implicitly, He says to leave the dead to bury the dead, anyone who has given up family, sell all you have and give to the poor, even not to attach to helping the poor who will "be with you always."

Detachment. Julian of Norwich sees Jesus joyful - JOYFUL! - in His sufferings (which, believe me, she don't sugar-coat) because He has seen that clinging to that body, it's pain, it's life, would distract Him from the "It is finished!" that has come. It is finished, not His life, but the binding, the oneing, it was meant for -- He is joyful in that, because it binds Him, in common suffering, to our suffering everyday, and any binding to humanity is salvific and loving and blissful. That's the paradox; it isn't pay now, receive later, the detachment from this world, transforms this world. For us, our suffering is a joy now, too, not because of the suffering or some pie-in-the-sky reward, but because it shows us that the treacherous things we "love" here, that we focus on rather than focussing on "just God," those things cause that pain. The absence of that pain also means the absence of those things we so value now, not just material things (the easy villain in the piece), but "good" things -- family, health, security -- things we refer to as "gifts from God" but set God aside to tend as our rightful property. They bring pain by their loss or apprehension over their loss or by failing to live up to expectation when gained and held. Only "Oneing" with God, Theosis, an enlightened practice of Immanence can bring that lasting satisfaction.

That is why I'm allright, not because I hope to gain any of the things I lack, but because I know that, come or go, they will not satisfy. At least intellectually. I'm sure I'll panic and cry out next time there's one of this little ego's crises. Still, at least I've started. We so like to hope, don't we? Hope is a Cardinal Virtue, isn't it? But, theological Hope is hope in God's Goodness and Love, not hope for prosperity, or success, or even health, life, physical necessity. If I can just make mine that Hope, and let the little hope go.

This is My Entire Comment on the Synod and Covenants

Readings

First, I don't want to discuss the Synod's decision. It's depressing, and disheartening, and others have it on their blogs.

Second, this week gives me two of my favorite difficult readings. Sunday night, we had Matthew 22:1-14(Link) while Monday gives us 1 Samuel 15:1-3,7-23(Link).

The Gospel reading I can come up with many facile interpretations of, but I prefer to lectio my divina on that one for a bit.

The other, God, through Samuel, tells Saul to destroy everything and everyone among the Amalekites "men and women, children and infants," even the livestock! Saul spares King Agag and the fattest and best of the livestock, ostensibly as offerings to God. God withdraws his support from Saul for this, Samuel is enraged. In the end, Samuel speaks something like a malediction against Saul (the parallels of divination with rebellion and stubborness with idolatry are an interesting theological statement in themselves).

On one level, its pretty ghastly. God -- yes God! -- tells Saul to kill every living thing among the Amalekites. That's monstrous to the modern mind. I'm tempted to think, on a purely literal level, that this may have been Samuel, more than God. Surely, God wouldn't do something like this? Why, even, would such a thing be included in Scripture, if you accept, as I do, that it's there for a reason and can be found to contain something.

Dogmatically, it's easy -- don't disobey God's chosen spokesmen NO MATTER WHAT!!!!

That's a message we get a lot, lately. Obsessively, really. And, certainly, scripture speaks to the community, in my opinion, in this reading. What we have is a leader who, while professing his faith in God, refuses to "cut off" all that comes of a bad past (remember, the Israelites are coming back to get rid of a group behind them that's tripped them up before); he hangs on to it, out of fear? self-glorification? obsessiveness? -- we don't really know why Saul did it. He says it was to the Glory of God, but his setting up his own monument, as well as Samuel's dig about being "small in his own eyes," one wonders. In any case, it does remind me, at least, of some of our leadership, and the foot-dragging in certain areas. Sometimes, as Jesus reminded us, the health of the body requires the removal of the corrupted part -- not part, or the gangrene still spreads. This is a group we know to have been dangerous in the past, and bad leaven can leaven the lump, as well. I think some leaders speak out of fear, when what they say is "charity" and "brotherhood" and "communion."

Yet, that reading is easy, too. What does it say for me? We move forward in our faith. Sometimes we can't be rid of those things that we stumbled over in the past, some sin, some habit, until we are stronger in our faith, established in our ascesis. But, then, we must, from our strength, cut away that former stumbling-stone. We can't say, "Oh, I'll just keep this part . . . it's harmless!" or "Oh, I can transform this into something great!" We have to go back and wipe it all out, whatever this habit or mind or action or association is. "Kill your darlings," our creative fiction professor told us -- how much moreso in the battles of self-dominance. If we leave these "darlings," we leave a subtle path to the old behavior. Agag doesn't seem to have been particularly vile, the sheep and cattle were the best, but they were the "old enemy." In the same way, those things we do/don't, will/won't for God tilt us, inevitably, away from one path, always fighting a two-front war. If we leave this enemy in our selves then we, like Saul, cannot command, cannot rule, our selves.

For Those Who Love Cats and Star Trek

Happy Fourth!!!

Two things:

1) If you're in a drought area, check to see if you're allowed to set off fireworks, then don't do it, anyway.

2) I give you the traditional greeting of my family on the 4th -- "God save the Queen!"


And this (I couldn't find the 1812 Overture)