Kirkepiscatoid

Sad news--Fr. Jake is hanging up his cleats--at least as far as his present blog is concerned. It's a loss to the blogosphere, fer sure. But I understand a piece of how Jake must feel at this point.

Jake's blog, in the earlier years of its existence was far more full of spiritual content and less full of the internal squabbles over inclusion in the Anglican world. He had a very wonderful way of looking at his spirituality, and his theology was strongly based in the "spirituality of the school of hard knocks." I could identify with him on a lot of those fronts.

But, over time, it became more filled with present tensions within the Anglican Communion over inclusion of women and GLBT folks in the leadership of the church. Good stuff, but the comments section started to be filled with spats between the "re-asserters" and the "re-appraisers". I started staying away because there was too much personal PTSD for me. It started reminding me of childhood days at the supper table, wondering when the explosion would happen that ruined our dinner and when the beatings would commence. It took me DECADES to decide that God was not lurking behind the bush, ready to spring on me and kick my ass over ever transgression or evil thought I had. I did not need to hear the so-called "orthodox Anglican" (more like "imperious Anglican") crowd dictating to me "what the Bible says" and cluttering up Jake's good articles, so I decided to quit being a regular.

But I have a feeling that might be a part of why Jake decided to move on. All this was happening right at HIS supper table. I can identify with that. Godspeed, Jake.

So...that leaves a hole for another link on this blog. I decided to add three...Susan Russell's "An Inch at a Time", FranIAm, and Mark Harris' "Preludium". All excellent blogs. Enjoy!

Last Sunday's Gospel (Matthew 10:40-42) had Jesus explaining the true meaning of the word "welcome."

One of the things I frequently do when a word is used over and over in a Bible passage is to start by attempting to understand the word both in "the vernacular of the time", and "the permutations of the word in the language in which the Bible is written." I always assume SOMETHING has been "lost in translation" between the languages, and between their time and my time. So I start nosing into the word “welcome” as it is used in Matthew 10:40-42. It’s the Greek word “dechomai”, which means “accept.” In some biblical translations, it is “receive”.

Here’s what the Greek lexicon says about “dechomai”. Pay VERY CLOSE ATTENTION to the very first definition!

Dechomai:

1. to take with the hand
1. to take hold of, take up
2. to take up, receive
1. used of a place receiving one
2. to receive or grant access to, a visitor, not to refuse intercourse or friendship
1. to receive hospitality
2. to receive into one's family to bring up or educate
3. of the thing offered in speaking, teaching, instructing
1. to receive favourably, give ear to, embrace, make one's own, approve, not to reject
4. to receive. i.e. to take upon one's self, sustain, bear, endure
3. to receive, get
1. to learn

I discovered this after I had "a tough day with my friend M." M.'s dementia has moved to the point where, although a lot of his mental cognition is still there, "the compass in his head is broken." He was getting lost finding his room, his chair in the dining room, etc. So he was moved to the Arbors (the dementia care unit next to Highland Crest assisted living) this week.

I had come to just spend a little time with him and "sit with him in his hurt place" for a while because unlike some people being moved to a dementia care unit, he KNOWS he's going to a dementia care unit. I was feeling horribly inadequate because all I had for him, the only thing I had left to give that was all mine, my magic “fixit abilities” stripped from me, was MY HAND.

I had no cup of cold water, I had no soothing words, I had no tools in my toolbox, I had nothin’ but my hand...and I instinctively gave it. I held onto his and said, “I won’t let go. I never have, and I never will. All I can do is even if this gets so bad you are not even aware it is me, you know that I will never let go of you. Not now, not ever.” I interlaced my fingers into his—and squeezed it with intensity.

Then I came home and did a little work on the text I had heard earlier in the day and discovered that the meaning of the word that translates as "welcome" in this passage is literally "to take by the hand."

There is a funny aside as I was leaving the assisted care place. As I was walking through the "family room" there was a little worship service going on, led by this fundie preacher. He was going on about how he “has a smile on his face, not because he’s a happy-go-lucky kind of guy but because he has the love of Jesus in his heart, and Jesus always puts a smile on our face.”

"OH, GAG ME!" I was thinking to myself. I had a brief fantasy about yelling, “Oh, piss off, buddy! I’m a SURLY Christian, and one who goes down into my own pit of pain at times, deeper than you’ll ever know, b/c you can’t wipe your doofy smile off your face!” But it made me smile, because I realized I wanted no part of his version of Jesus. I don't want a Jesus who deludes me in to not recognizing a hurting situation. I don't want a Jesus who hides me from the pain of the world, as a little kid is sheltered from the truth. I want a Jesus who shows me his grace and healing from the deepest realms of the darkest pothole of pain that the world can dish out. The one who helps me find my own bravery in the midst of my worst fears. That dude in the worship service, his Jesus won't help me with the real meaning of the word "welcome." I'll keep mine, thank you.

Lately, my planet has been full of things that require choices and decisions and the choices/decisions on either side have not been great. Each side has the potential to put me in emotional, personal, or financial peril. Each option requires commitment to the choice and discipline to carry out the choice. It's not fun.

For some reason, I decided to call my old colleague Bill. His way of seeing the world seems to mesh with mine at times I need it. He said, "It's the two turkey choice again!"

"Remember when we were residents together?" he continued. "You were going home for Thanksgiving and it was always your job to bring the turkey...and every year your grandmother gave you hell because the turkey was either too big or too small. Remember what I told you? I said to buy two turkeys. Cut her off at the pass. Hold them both up and say, 'Which turkey do you want? The one that is too big, or too small?' Well, I think when considering all these choices, you just need to walk in with two turkeys every time and wait till THEN whether you need the one that is too big or too small."

Well, and you know, there is precedence for that in the book of Exodus, right after the plague of darkness...

Exodus 10:21-29

21Then the Lord said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand toward heaven so that there may be darkness over the land of Egypt, a darkness that can be felt.” 22So Moses stretched out his hand toward heaven, and there was dense darkness in all the land of Egypt for three days. 23People could not see one another, and for three days they could not move from where they were; but all the Israelites had light where they lived.

24Then Pharaoh summoned Moses, and said, “Go, worship the Lord. Only your flocks and your herds shall remain behind. Even your children may go with you.” 25But Moses said, “You must also let us have sacrifices and burnt offerings to sacrifice to the Lord our God. 26Our livestock also must go with us; not a hoof shall be left behind, for we must choose some of them for the worship of the Lord our God, and we will not know what to use to worship the Lord until we arrive there.”

27But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he was unwilling to let them go. 28Then Pharaoh said to him, “Get away from me! Take care that you do not see my face again, for on the day you see my face you shall die.” 29Moses said, “Just as you say! I will never see your face again.”

Well, gee whiz...Moses chose to take two turkeys, too. Pharaoh got pretty testy about it, too, but Moses was adamant about the ability for his people to continue to choose.

In these choices I am pondering, it's not like there are distinct "right choices" or "wrong choices"--there are good and bad sides to all of it. I really AM picking between "the turkey that is too big" vs. "the turkey that is too small." That is sort of an emancipating thought, really. I worry sometimes that my choice is "the place that the Lord will choose for you" (a phrase that gets used repeatedly in the book of Deuteronomy). But the "two turkey choice" has liberated me to a degree. I am starting to realize that "the place that the Lord will choose for you" is usually not a matter of picking the right sized turkey. You can get to "the place that the Lord will choose for you" by picking EITHER of the wrong sized turkeys...it's the awareness and willingness to adjust, and to cook the turkey appropriately, choose the side dishes, etc. God will not chew me out for bringing the wrong sized turkey to the table!

I had remarked to a friend the other day, "You know, this summer is unseasonably cool...just like the summer of the '93 flood." That was an interesting summer, when NE Missouri became an island nation. Everyone on Highway 63 from the Iowa line down to the Hartsburg turnoff north of Jefferson City was literally living on an island, bounded by the flood waters of the Des Moines River on the north, the Missouri River on the south, The Mississippi river on the east, and the Grand River on the west.

The devastation in Cedar Rapids and Iowa City seemed too close to home and it certainly triggered old memories of 1993 for me.

So, in honor of the fact we had five inches of rain dumped on us in Kirksville (six in some places!) I dragged out one of my favorite jokes that emerged from the receding waters of the 1993 flood...

A curious fellow died one day and found himself waiting in the long line of judgment.

As he stood there he noticed that some souls were allowed to march right through the pearly gates into Heaven. Others though, were led over to Satan who threw them into the burning fire.
But every so often, instead of hurling a poor soul into the fire, Satan would toss a soul off to one side into a small pile. After watching Satan do this several times, the fellow's curiosity
got the best of him. So he strolled over and asked Satan what he was doing.

'Excuse me, Prince of Darkness,' he said. 'I'm waiting in line for Judgment, but I couldn't help wondering. Why are you tossing those people aside instead of flinging them into the Fires of Hell with the others?'

'Oh those . .' Satan groaned. 'They're all from Missouri. They're still too wet to burn.'

Hey, I found this free e-blurb that comes in my mailbox once a week that is “Hebrew word-a-week.” I am enjoying it a lot since I like to pick words apart.

This week’s word is ha-satan (ha-sah-TAN)...aka “Satan.”

It is interesting that ha-satan means, “the accuser”, “the adversary” or “the opposer.” I did a little work on some of the torah study sites, and discovered it is generally referring to the yetzer ha-ra, the evil inclination in mankind. Humans struggle between the desires of the yetzer hatov (our good inclination) and the yetzer ha-ra (our evil inclination) So this oppositional force, historically, is a force within us.

Ha-Satan is the title (like “chief accuser”), not the given name, ascribed to the angel in the book of Job that gets permission to “test” Job.

In the Greek, it gets turned into “diabolos”, aka “devil.”

But time and time again, in the OT, whether it is in the book of Job, or Isaiah, it plays out where ultimately, God has dominion over “the ha-satan.”

I think this is interesting both in light of our Gospel for this week because in Matthew 10:24-39 it asserts that our value to God is far greater than our value to the world. (“Sparrows are cheaper than dirt at the Farmer’s Market, but look how well I care for them and look how well I know you.”) Also when you look at the OT reading this week (Jer. 20:7-13) b/c it is like, “God, why are you dogging my ass all the time but simultaneously pulling it from the fire?”

Getting this as the “Hebrew word-a-week” this week certainly has a twilight zone characteristic to it. We struggle with our own value, yet God always sees us as highly prized. We look to external forces to define our value—money, looks, smarts, talent, our friends/relatives—and it is never enough, it never quite satisfies us, we beg and plead for more external validation. Ha-Satan is not a devil with horns, hiding behind the lamppost, waiting to jump out in front of us, he lives between our own ears and is composed of our own thoughts, talking trash to us and feeling every external slight and dig—and it is our own thoughts that separate us from that feeling of value that God gives us constantly.

I think about when I am trying to hide something that is bothering me from my closest friends. Eventually, they look at me and say, “Something’s bothering you, I can tell it, I KNOW you, so don’t try to hide it from me. Spill it.” Yeah, it feels like they are on your ass and won’t leave you alone. But when you do finally spill it, you feel better.

Well, it seems to me that ha-satan is the oppositional force that, even though we ascribe it to “evil inclinations,” it is also, oddly enough, the force that allows us to “feel the gap” between us and God and that, if we are aware to its oppositional qualities, is actually the thing that can cause us to “spill it” to God. Its ability to “oppose” allows us to recognize our yetzer hatov, our “good inclinations”, and in that, God does have dominion over evil. WHOA!

Then the phrase in this week’s text in Matthew pops in my head that shows up time and time again in the Bible--”Do not be afraid.” We should not fear ha-satan because God has dominion over our accusers, our mental adversaries, our opposing thoughts. (Now why does the Blue Oyster Cult song, “Don’t fear the reaper” pop into my head?)

Psalm 104 couldn't be more accurate. The sun knows its time for setting, and it's the time of year where it's a looooong way from the dawn! About six months ago I posted my dashboard widget on the shortest day of the year; it only seems fair to give the longest day of the year tomorrow some credit!

I don't know about you, but even with all this day, it seems like it is never enough. Summer is a time that I tend to feel refreshed, energized, and with a need to fill the daylight with as much as I can pack into it. I stay up late and wake up early. For me, winter is for reflecting, summer is for doing. But even then, there is a "time is fleeting" quality to it. The first part of Ecclesiastes 1 comes to mind:

1The words of the Teacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem. ²Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity. ³What do people gain from all the toil at which they toil under the sun?

⁴A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever. ⁵The sun rises and the sun goes down, and hurries to the place where it rises. ⁶The wind blows to the south, and goes around to the north; round and round goes the wind, and on its circuits the wind returns. ⁷All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow, there they continue to flow. ⁸All things are wearisome; more than one can express; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, or the ear filled with hearing.

⁹What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun. ¹⁰Is there a thing of which it is said, “See, this is new”? It has already been, in the ages before us. ¹¹The people of long ago are not remembered, nor will there be any remembrance of people yet to come by those who come after them.

The sun hurries to the place where it rises, and I hurry to my next task. I grow tanner and fitter every summer, but with each summer, my hair becomes more salt than pepper, another line shows up in the beginnings of my crows' feet, and I realized that although summer makes me feel young and fit, in reality I'm middle aged and "pretty fit for middle aged." My summers seem a lot more filled with "screening exams" and fasting lipid panels, fasting blood glucose levels, and things like that than they used to be.

There is a part of me that says, "Enjoy these long days; enjoy my friends and loved ones; enjoy it all. But remember that this is temporary." I wonder: Will these days be as long and full when I'm 60? 70? 80? I hope so. But God gives us the long days of summer to bask in the light, and the dark days of winter to curl up and reflect. I plan to use mine to the fullest.