Two points make this a unique and possibly very valuable photo: 1)That's not apple juice in the glass; 2)That's not the bishop's wife.
This is one of those rare events captured on camera. One of our senior acolytes, infuriated by the unrelenting adorability of our junior acolytes, moves in to assault them with an armored handbag. What makes this photo of particular note is that a young Professor Snape was passing by at the time.
Fr. Jay and Alison - young, enthusiastic, hopeful. We'll soon put a stop to that.
Unique to the Diocese of Georgia is our ecumenical tac team. They can be suited and behind enemy lines in minutes, and know 537 ways to pray for a man with their bare hands.
Our Senior Warden, Charlie, enjoys the ready wit of Gabby Hayes.
I'm sure that good-natured violence ensued.
The food fight came unexpectedly - or not.
Our Junior Warden, Eloise, responded childishly when someone noted she hadn't even touched her salad.
I felt bad that no one told him he had toilet paper stuck to his collar.
This was taken moments before a vicious assault on Fr. Bullion by a midget carrying a brass-tipped white cane.
Bp. Louttit, wearing the smile that says, "Come January, this is all Benhase' s problem!"
I'm not sure what's happening here, but I'm pretty sure Harold Pinter wrote it.
These are all from the installation of our new rector, Jay Weldon. We were fortunate in that the installation was straight forward, and Fr. Jay didn't require metric tools.
If you'd like to see all the photos, you can here.
Of particular note and wonder - you will not see any photos of me, and I was not the photographer. I veeeery dangerous ninja.
I didn't know about it until this week. A mere 90 miles away, right there at the oft-visited Wild Adventures Theme Park, and I didn't know about it. I know of at least 10 people with cars who would've made the drive happily for the chance at being a zombie extra.
Well-meaning people keep asking for a "new way forward" in Christianity, and then speak of covenants and some pseudo-mystical sense of unity, which is not at all mystical but political.
These are not new, but have been shown to fail time and again.
Why not try something we never truly have - the Via Media. Any serious Buddhist practitioner will tell you, the Middle Way is a profoundly absorbing and demanding practice, taking a lifetime of work.
We have not done that. What we've done is a sort of hacking down the middle, sifting to find the lowest common denominator, and attempting to settle into a narcotic parochialism that is easily ignorable and serves no one - the most revealing statement I've heard was from a well-educated, thoughtful cleric who argued that Rowan Williams must be doing the right thing because he was upsetting everyone and refusing to "lower himself" to explanations! That is baffling to me. If no one is served by the current practice, it is a bad practice. If no one will explain the position, it is a bad position. The idea that a church should "run along, tickety-boo" is a rather odd one. It's not a corporation, still less a machine. It is more than company, more than family. It's purpose - to my mind, it's clearly stated purpose - is to work to bring the Kingdom of God to Earth. That's work, and messy work.
The enemy of faith is not disbelief, but the laziness of the believers! There are atheists doing far more at this juncture to actuate the teachings of Jesus than entire sections of Christendom. The bad news for us is that, if we take this seriously, if we truly believe in Christ's mission, we have to live in a constant tension unlike any other "occupation" or mere vocation in human history. We have to step carefully, balancing reality and revelation at every point. We have to accept that we are imperfect and our judgment may be wrong. There is no - repeat NO - simple book of rules.
The news gets worse. There's no simple answer to the whole shootin' match. By that, I mean that we have to accept that there will be people who embrace the extremes - the extreme of church as social-service/social-action center with no reference to anything beyond physical form and need, and those who embrace the church solely as ark, floating in a chaotic sea that is this life until God does it all and makes a new world. They exist, and, given that we're speaking eternal truths, we can't really find a convincing argument against, just as we are unswayed by their arguments. For example, my thought tends to come in intuitive leaps, from which I have to reason back to explain. If I'm honest, then when countered with the suggestion that I reasoned the way I did from a pre-conceived prejudice, then I have to assent that is a possibility. Of course, so did the person making that counter to my argument. Again, there is really no such thing as pure objectivity for a human being. It's impossible. So, part of the difficulty of the Via Media is working with the messiness of allowing that those who I believe may be wrong believe that I am definitely wrong and must be stopped, and yet must allow them their space to believe - we're not speaking of action at this point, but belief.
Even worse news; I can go out far on a limb and say that, given the nature of eternal verities, I can make no real counter to other faiths! That is why my faith is my faith, and why true faith is messy because it accepts its completely subjective nature. The good part of that is that it allows me to see good and commonality in other faiths, even those whose structures teach that my faith is absolutely wrong, or faiths which my ecclesial structure teaches as absolutely wrong. Still, I have to admit that people who were very unhappy and far from God in Christianity, have found peace and compassion in Islam, Buddhism, Judaism, etc. Who am I to argue with results, even as I make room for those who would argue with results, even condemn them as diabolism?
The current arguments in Christianity seem to be hinging on who has faith and who doesn't - often expressed as an argument of faith vs. reason, or faith vs. superstition, or various other pejorative arguments.
I've made no secret of the fact that I believe the orthodite/fundamentalist/orthodox/reasserter group to be poorly-developed apes who would be much happier if put back in the wild without the burdens of civilized interaction. My only reservation on that point is that the great apes are often fairly gentle and sociable creatures who don't deserve that bomb dropped on them. This is my personal view, and I can't help it, especially given that it has been borne out at every turn. My less personal and more generally-applied concept of evolutionary thought and consciousness and the relatively static nature of the ability to expand thought has also received no substantial rebuttal.
So, full disclosure on my prejudice against one side of this ongoing debate. I label it prejudice because I wish to err on the side of generosity, and, thought not disproved, has not been conclusively proven either.
Unfortunately, a lack of rationality and real reflection is just as much a part of the so-called revisionist side. The dumbing-down of liturgy in the proposed Prayer Book revisions is a sign of this. The tendency to get bogged down in precious points of courtesy, or, worse, to undermine allies' arguments for the sheer joy of scoring a point - "Hur, hur . . . look how smart I am!" are definite traits in the liberal camp. The inability to distinguish between humor and insult, the inability to make fine judgments and a tendency toward the draconian, an inability to recognize the interdependence of individual and structure in a healthy way, etc. To some extent we are all guilty of it, but a great majority are almost always guilty of it, some of them people I respect and support in many ways.
So, given that there is as much responsibility on each side as there is culpability (and this is a personal stretch for me in positing this - I cannot trust the orthodites), I don't think it's anything as wildly conflicting as "faith vs. . . . " It's not an either/or proposition. Both sides are faith, and find their fatal flaws in the extremity of each: on one side, the faith that cold, scientific observation can save everything and bring The Kingdom, on the other side, the faith that one must wait for God to bring the Kingdom, accepting any "revealed truth" regardless of it's seeming irrelevance or inapplicability. BOTH are faiths. Both faiths reside in the action of God that promises a full restoration. Both lead, if unbalanced and placed in opposition, to fundamental and damaging errors - in regarding the two as absolute, indeed, the faith becomes absolutely based on error.
On the one hand, the error is the idea that any human, or group of humans, can make a truly objective judgment. It is simply impossible. Even if taking an observable event or the behavior of an observable object, the physical, mental, emotional aggregate that is the human experience invariably "taints the findings." The result is, frequently, evidenced as a tendency to the absolute primacy of the individual - whether friend or foe.
On the other hand, the error is the abdication of all responsibility and action to an unseen power in the belief that this somehow washes ones hands of any possible wrongdoing, regardless of the God-given powers of rational thought and the workings of conscience. It is often claimed to be rational as it was rationally-assented to, by which the assenter means he chose such a view. This, itself, shows the fundamental problem in that we all would, if it cost no real effort or sacrifice on our part, choose absolute certainty and a childish abrogation of responsibility. There was choice, but the same "choice" as is made between another hour of productive work or another slice of cheesecake. It's the "choice" of the Lotus Eater, frankly. The result, frequently, is evidenced as a tendency to submerge the individual into the group, giving up all responsibility or self-improvement.
You've managed to kill my hope, my faith in humanity, the church and, largely, in a personal god. I think you've pretty much done all the evil you were sent to do to me.
What more do you want? My blood? My life? You ain't gettin' it. I'm stronger than you. I'll outlast you. You are not worth anybody's tears.
I care about the individuals at my church, in my family, and in my circle of friends - that's the Body of Christ - you can have your petty empire of "church."
I keep being told - oh, so kindly - that this is wrong. You shouldn't be angry. Get over it.
I began reading Thich Nhat Hanh's Anger: the advice there is "listen deeply."
Well, that's just great, but I have listened deeply.
There's a madman standing there, with his hand poised to push the button that will set off a bomb. I've listened to everything he has to say, I've spoken gently to him to reassure him that there is no government conspiracy/alien transmission/monsters in his skull/etc., and he's still going to push the button. So, what now? I have a duty to stop him, but all I can hear is everyone telling me, "No! Be kind! You gotta listen to him! Respect his crazy!!!!"
At some point, even for liberals, we have to realize that compromise and tolerance are simply a way of avoiding responsibility. There's no compassion in letting him push the button. The survivors, if any, are maimed forever. If you survive, if he survives, you're maimed, he's maimed, you both are left with the guilt and shame of what you did . . . or, in your case, didn't do. If you let him push the button, you will have the faces of the dead and the wounded in your nightmares, and you should - if you don't, there was neither compassion or generosity in your involvement to begin with.
Why are you afraid of calling insane insane? Why are you afraid of saying "We're right and you're wrong, and we just have to accept what reality is?"
I've spent a great deal of my life lying to myself about my worth and my ability. I'm really not intelligent, or insightful - save for an uncontrollable burst of realization about things that everybody already really knows. It's distressing to realize that, when I die, I will have changed nothing, meant nothing, and my death will mean nothing. Dust we art, and to dust we will return.
Even something simple, like Marcus Aurelius' instruction:
Say to yourself in the early morning: I shall meet today inquisitive, ungrateful, violent, treacherous, envious, uncharitable men. All these things have come upon them through ignorance of real good and ill.
I know the truth of it, yet am incapable of acting on it. I'm not even sure how. Compassion is the ideal, I'm sure of that. At the same time, I see no way to simply allow these "ignorant men" to continue on their path and in their actions. We have to be responsible for stopping them, especially in this time when even the most abysmal fool can cause global damage. It must be stopped. And yet, time and again, I'm told I'm wrong. It's intolerant. We have to be patient. But I can't accept this. Compassion demands action. I'm an unloving, unloveable person, so, maybe my whole purpose in this is to be the unpleasant voice of necessity, forgotten as soon as buried.
There is nothing but confusion to come out of all this, and, perhaps, the whole "point" is the final joke - a planet, peaceful, harmonious, now that the angry little apes are all dead. Maybe we were never the point. Love. Compassion. All these I believe in, and they've failed, failed, failed. The little "victories" can never stand in the face of the vast entropic chaos that whirls in and around us, the blind, idiot god, and there are two possibilities I see - we don't matter, or there is no god to matter to. I believe, still, in the Omega Point evolution - but I can no longer see its effectiveness when even those who've advanced resist it and rely on the old ways.
I'll die, leaving nothing. The grinder just keeps grinding.
My interest in Buddhism, exposure to the thinking of Tolle, Thich Nhat Hanh, Thomas Merton, and many others, my fascination with Oriental - particularly Japanese - culture and this article by Maria Reis Habito have led me back to a fundamental spiritual dissonance as a Christian looking from a 21st Century perspective into the deeper aspects of a contemplative spirituality.
The dissonance, or conflict, is expressed in Habito's article largely as a difference of East and West, and, in representative terms, this is accurate. But I see it as a fundamental tension in all cultures, it is simply that one is less likely to question the pre-eminence of one side or the other depending on one's cultural milieu. This leads to a repression of one or the other that is usually expressed in extreme, or unhealthy ways; in America, the need for collectivism leads to the herd mentality so skillfully misused by conservative pundits, in Japan, the need for individuality leads to the often (to us) bizarre fashion trends (side note: the same bizarre fashion trends in America are most often an effort to fit in!), to Yokohama biker gangs, and to suicide.
Like Buddha - and I feel Jesus, as well, had He been expressing Himself in a different set of cultural needs - I believe the healthy way is the middle way. Too much individuality, and all becomes completely rootless and relative; too much collectivism, the wonder and goodness of the individual that made the entire spiritual side relevant or meaningful is lost. The key, I think, has to be a healthy responsibility - a mutual responsibility. What I mean is this: a healthy individual must express himself with respect for the vast network of societal demands that give him identity, while the society must have respect for the sacredness of the individual characters that form that web.
That's a name that probably doesn't mean anything to kids anymore. Even if I say Peter, Paul, and Mary they're not likely to know who I'm talking about.
Most people, however, have heard of "Puff, the Magic Dragon" - Peter, Paul and Mary were the group who made it popular. I got used to watching - when I still could get television transmissions -- thanks so much digitally-screwed-up-television under government mandate! - Peter, Paul and Mary perform a Christmas show on Public Television - including the incredibly moving Chanukkah song, "Antiochus."
It's sort of like losing a beloved teacher or nanny for me.
All the many folk songs they sang, aside, this is the one I loved most as a child, and can still sing as an adult - I can't even remember all "Puff's" lyrics:
Note, it always seems to be clergy, in particular bishops, banging the "importance-of-the-Anglican-Communion" drum - maybe it's time to do what just about no other national church can do and clip the hell out of our bishops' wings. It's clear this is about personal interest, and bishops are just as susceptible to lobbying and toadyism as any other politician - take away that ability, and see how important they thing the AC really is.
On a more personal note:
I've realized, thanks to the contributions of a priest I've believed dedicated and rational and the actions of our clergy - particularly bishops - that, all this time, I've been fighting for a church that doesn't want to change, wants all its privileges and no risk and is, far from being a refuge for those who look for rationality and flexibility in religion, merely a refuge for the remainder of the Love Generation and the tail-end of yuppie "sensitivity" who'll scream from the rooftops for justice and love and righteousness for someone half a world away, a different color or different belief, and simply ignore the suffering of their neighbors, step over the bodies of those like them without so much as a backward glance. A friend of mine, James in fact - far from a conservative - has said to me, "Liberals are assholes." I've begun to think he's right.
You see, on a level, the orthodites are right: the Episcopal Church doesn't believe in what it's fighting for, or we would've thrown this Covenant back in Williams' face and told him, in so many words, to keep his hairy ass in his own church. We would've actually sent people - not money - in to help in Nigeria and Uganda, and without the damned politicking to make sure we don't step on purple toes. We would've said, loudly and clearly, that Akinola is a combination of voodoo witch-doctor and tribal war-chief and nothing like a bishop, without biting nails over the reaction of Canterbury.
The Episcopal Church does not believe in anything it's doing, and it's not just the bishops - as awful as they are.
Our clergy and lay-people will throw money and words to anything for justice - as long as it's fashionable and costs nothing more than that. As long as it doesn't hurt our PR. As long as we can be the "good guys," the "nice guys." You know, for all their wickedness, it doesn't shock me to hear from the Roman Catholics, or Baptists that one of theirs was killed or captured working in a dangerous area, for making the wrong noises before a dictator, but it would be a shock, an impossibility that you'd ever hear that of an Episcopalian. Episcopalians don't actually believe in anything, but what's fashionable and easy.
The refuge of the Love Generation and the remnants of socially-conscious yuppies.
And, it's just about put a stake through the heart of my belief in any damned thing, anymore. I've got more damned stress than most could handle just being me - our company cutting employees, hours, pay, clinical depression, health and housing problems - and, on top of that, to realize that Christianity is divided into those who believe and fight for wickedness and destruction, and those who believe in nothing costly at all and invest themselves in nothing at all. What God relies on that for His work? What good is that God? Could such a God exist, or, if He does, why should I worry whether someone so ineffectual disapproves of my actions?
These questions - particularly of the actual existence of God - are not ones I'm used to asking. I know God exists, because I feel Him, just like I can feel the presence of other people in my town without seeing them. So, I'm going to stay at St. Pat's, in the choir if they want, and keep on until this Covenant is voted in by GC, which it will be, and we no longer are even the weak-as-water Episcopalians we were, but some unrecognizable mini-Rome. Then, I'll leave, and see whether or not I still feel God at all. In the meantime, I can't keep fighting and involving myself in a church that, vampire-like, feeds off my energy and gives nothing back.
It's all up to you, if you feel the fight's worth it. I got no more investment. I can't, if I want to survive.
ADDENDUM:
Doxy rightly called me on my use of "Episcopalians" - particularly this quote:
Episcopalians don't actually believe in anything, but what's fashionable and easy.
This is not the right use of words - there are a strong, struggling minority of members in the Episcopal Church who work very hard and risk for what they believe.
Rather, it has become what TEC represents - it's what TEC, in its public face, IS. Now, you can take issue with that all you want. I won't argue anymore, I'm just dead inside. But, ask yourself, ask others, if it's not so. For that matter, ask others how much they actually know about us compared to RC's or Evangelicals. We aren't polite or restrained, just milquetoast and vacillating - that's the public reality.
And, now, something completely unrelated, because I give up and silly and cute is better than all the noise:
I'm not that bright. I don't find myself able to converse on anything but my loves of anime and video games - at 41, yet! Nobody listens to anything I've got to say, and, if they did, what good is it? There's nothing there. I've meditated, prayed, read, all for years, and I'm no nearer any kind of enlightenment. I don't see a purpose or place in anything, and I don't embrace a nihilist view that there's nothing to accomplish and nothing to stand for. I've nothing new or useful or even thought-provoking to say. Why am I keeping at this?
I've just been too tired and depressed to write much more on my half-formed theory, and appreciate the conversation that we've had so far. I'm working on more, hopefully clarifying and simplifying some of what I'm thinking.
I've found some examples of the things directing my thinking, though.
First, Grandmere Mimi took the bold step of going to Mary Landrieu's town-hall meeting on healthcare - she reports on her experience here and here.
Note in her descriptions the almost-unconscious use of non sequitir by the opponents to national healthcare, the repetition of lies and misinformation fed to them in the face of being told that these "facts" are lies. Note the simplistic inability to comprehend that they might be wrong or misinformed, the inability to comprehend that others don't see absolute truth in all they're saying. Note, also, that, in extremis, they resort to an almost animalistic violence, screaming, threatening, abusing. This is bizarre behavior. The fact that it can be pointed to so often is a vindication, rather than a refutation, of my position that this is an indication of a sort of mental dysfunction in a large group of human beings. We all feel fear, we all have anxiety in the face of change, all defend their positions - I'm doing it now! - but the simple fact is, we see that there are some simply incapable of rising above those feelings to a level of enlightened discourse.
Now, in this example, we have an interview with Nicky Gumbel, the founder of the somewhat-controversial Alpha Course. The interviewer is aggressive, without a doubt, but not, I believe, offensive (for those who doubt it, please look at other examples of British interviews). In response, Gumbel is evasive, to put it kindly. It is clear that his answers are meant to manipulate. It is equally clear that his answers are having no effect on the aggressive interviewer. Gumbel is an example of the clever agent of entropy - keeps dodging and weaving, aiming his message to minds that will be influenced by the basest of arguments. He is aiming it at those who are incapable of questioning, of rising above feelings - "See! He's a nice guy! He says so!" - to enlightened examination.
Finally, we have this article from Chief Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks. Sacks' commentary is always thoughtful, frequently challenging, sometimes annoyingly erudite. Specifically, I was moved by the example he gives of Rabbi Shimon Ha-Amsoni. I leave it to you to read the story. The entire article is a description of a wise - an enlightened - approach to knowledge, to our communal cooperation and decision-making, and the story of Rabbi Ha-Amsoni is the consummate example of the sort of evolution of consciousness I've been trying to explain - the ability to live with the experiment, and with the results.
Another example is found here. This is from the "loyal opposition" in relation to me as a Christian believer, yet he shows that ability to think "above," so to speak. He can look in a holistic fashion, outside of his own milieu, and see both the good and the bad, and to question his own approach. While he stays within his own basic convictions, this is not the weakness of intractability, but the strength of real belief. Note, also, his gracious response to some rather snide comments, showing a willingness to engage.
ADDENDUM:
Thanks to Rebecca Nail for bringing this to my attention. It's a fairly well-balanced take on the issue, I think.
Two points make this a unique and possibly very valuable photo:
This is one of those rare events captured on camera.
Fr. Jay and Alison - young, enthusiastic, hopeful. We'll soon put a stop to that.
Unique to the Diocese of Georgia is our ecumenical tac team. They can be suited and behind enemy lines in minutes, and know 537 ways to pray for a man with their bare hands.
Our Senior Warden, Charlie, enjoys the ready wit of Gabby Hayes.
I'm sure that good-natured violence ensued.
The food fight came unexpectedly - or not.
Our Junior Warden, Eloise, responded childishly when someone noted she hadn't even touched her salad.
I felt bad that no one told him he had toilet paper stuck to his collar.
This was taken moments before a vicious assault on Fr. Bullion by a midget carrying a brass-tipped white cane.
I'm not sure what's happening here, but I'm pretty sure Harold Pinter wrote it.
