In a recent post, Renz of Renz in the Woods accepted a challenge to himself, and enlisted my help, since he pegged me as "another secular monastic" on Facebook. Well, I generally do what my friends ask of me!
I have to start, though, with the confession that it took me about two years to accept that I even remotely resemble any kind of "monastic." It took a combination of realizing I enjoy work around my church as a form of worship, reading the book "The Cloister Walk," and about 4 friends all expressing not in the presence of each other that I had various "monastic tendencies." But I still could not connect to it in any great manner b/c the one thing I knew that made me feel "not monastic" was that I did not pray all of the Daily Office or the Liturgy of the Hours or any sort of attempt at "prayer throughout the day." It was not until Renz threw the phrase "secular monastic" out for my scrutiny that I could finally go, "Well...ok. I guess I AM a secular monastic." (Then quickly added to myself, "but I'm not a monastic monastic.")
So, with that intro, if you look at Renz' posts he makes four points in his explanation of a secular monastic. I'll stick to his framework for consistency's sake for my version.
Point 1: Solitude
For the last 22 years of my life, in two different towns, I have lived several miles out in the country and "worked in town", as we say in these parts. In my present locale, I am essentially embedded in 35 acres of pasture. I live alone with two dogs, two donkeys, a mule, and "someone else's horse." There have been times I was home sick, that, other than my letter carrier or the UPS driver, no one has come to the house. I am a bit of a "hoarder of eclectic stuff" and use the clutter in my house as an excuse to keep people out, not "entertain." Although, unlike Renz, I do have TV and Dish Network, and a nice (but 15 year old) stereo, like him I have "too many books and too many CDs."
This is going to sound funny because in a social setting there is no doubt I enjoy conversation, but I also value being able to be silent for hours. Although, when I'm indoors, there is often either the TV or the radio or music on CD's or my iPod going, I enjoy the wall of silence I can create in myself. In fact, when I blog, I REALLY like being silent. I like forcing my fingers to do the work that I either can't or won't vocalize in real life.
I enjoy taking vacations and staying home rather than "going somewhere". It's not like I have never gone anywhere, I have been to 49 states and 5 foreign countries, and once in a while I do enjoy a trip for a vacation. I prefer taking the train or driving over flying, and enjoy the luxury of "taking my time" to get there. I have my sacred spot in the yard, and I like to sit out in it, with or whithout my laptop, even when it is a little too hot or cold for most people. I just like to "sit and be" in that place, hear the wind, the animal noises, feel the sun or the wind on me, and at night, fire up my chiminea and watch the moon and stars.
Point 2: Simplicity
Despite the hoarding tendencies, I live far below my means. I enjoy buying things at consignment auctions. I don't dress flashy. I am graying and I don't care WHAT people think abut that. I drive a seven year old truck with 100k plus miles. I always try to patch up or fix up something before I give up and get a new one. I buy staple foods in bulk. I have a freezer full of meat that I know exactly where it came from, right down to the pasture it was on. I prefer local, home grown foods and cooking from scratch.
I have a tendency to be the last one to turn on either the heat or the A/C, and prefer open windows and breezes. I don't rely on gasoline powered tools (but I will confess liking to use a chainsaw now and then.) I shovel the church walks with a shovel instead of a snow blower. But my carbon footprint is pretty small compared to a lot of people. I live in "less house" than most people these days.
Some day, I'm going on a "decluttering" mission. I do this about once every 10 years. I think I will use the excuse of remodeling the house. I get rid of a lot of the stuff I've hoarded from my pack rat tendencies, start over in a sense. Some day, I want to build a "greener" house on my property. But it will still be "less house" than most people would be satisfied with.
Point 3: Celibacy
Well, I will start by saying I might have more internal struggle than Renz about this, although a lot of what he says rings absolutely true with me, too. There was a time when I was making some incredibly bad decisions on how to channel my sexual energies. There was a point in relationships that I just figured, "Ok, we have kind of reached the point where we are supposed to be doing it, so I guess I will, and enjoy it for what it is," and that's what happened. I did not give a lot of consideration to the big picture of this, that it is a giving of one's self that reaches deeper sometimes than the level of the relationship I was in, and that created conflict I did not expect.
The problem was (and still is, and probably always will be) that I am a high-energy person. That includes sexual energy. So in some ways, my celibacy is not something I have totally accepted. I think I tend to be a little like St. Augustine and St. Jerome. That energy does and will always cause some degree of conflict and the lack of being able to disspate it in the "usual manner" causes consternation and loneliness some days. There is a part of me that will always long for sexual release in "the usual manner."
But I also realize that part of why I have the time to do a lot of the things I do is because I am not exerting energy on that whole "dating/romance/romantic relationships" schtick. I'll be honest, I always hated dating, because I really fear that moment when you are going with someone and they start in on the "why don't you...(fill in the blank)...you'd be so much more attractive if you did," schtick. It can range from wearing a certain cosmetic product, or coloring my hair or wearing something I don't normally wear. That is when I went "full stop/full speed backwards." That moment is so betraying to me. It screams, "YOU DON'T LOVE ME FOR WHO I AM, AS IS, and I am NOT going to give up pieces of myself for superficial bullshit" and I run from it. There's just too much rejection with dating, and I don't need to be diving into the rejection pit all the time.
I fear that so much, I just decided, "You know, I'm not saying I will never have a complete soul mate," but I think if I did, it will be someone who for some time will interact with me on many different levels, and over time we more or less grew into a deep realization that we really ARE soul mates, that there is a growing sense of total companionship, and a sense of completeness in each other's company that does not demand change of anything in either the inner core of our beings. This may never happen. That's okay too. I am happy as I am now, not having to worry about that business of aiming for romance, aiming for sex, and having to "fit" to get it. I have plenty of love to give in a lot of ways, and I am learning to feel the energies of that love coming back to me in ways I never imagined. I have learned to de-couple "sensual" from "sex". We ruined the world "sensual". It is so much bigger than just sex. I'm trying to take that word back.
Point 4: Prayer
That was my last hang-up about admitting I was a secular monastic. I figured since I don't have a day-long cycle of prayer, I don't qualify as "monastic." But I have, in the last two years, developed some practices of spiritual discipline, like my working backwards through the Psalms, my present project of working through the last ten chapters of Isaiah, my "seasonal projects" like Advent and Lent. I read, I reflect, I write and blog. That is a form of prayer, I decided.
I work on "fixit" projects and maintenance projects at church. That is a form of prayer. I spend time in my sacred spot in the yard. That is a form of prayer.
I am blessed in that I have "clergy friends." I am able to interact with them on a different level than I am used to interacting with clergy. Sometimes it is hard, b/c you are not sure "which hat" each is wearing in the conversation, but overall, this softening of boundaries is good for me, because I realize that for me to grow in my own spirituality, I need a certain degree of bonding with those who made it their life's work. I sort of chuckle at my Facebook friends...there are a lot more of them wearing collars than I like to admit! It's kind of embarrassing to admit, "Yeah, I have a lot of clergy friends strung all over the country," but it is also kind of nice. I also realize it is good for them, too, in odd ways. So that is all good.
I like my life overall most days, love it intensely some others, and have bad days in it like everyone else. But I am so grateful to be able to disengage myself from some aspects of "the world" and "our culture" and am growing into the notion that this "fits" me in a way I never allowed myself to believe. It is in some ways, a submission to God that he made me a quirky and unusual person for a good reason, and I am learning to accept there is a covenantal power in that.
Litany of Penitence
The Celebrant and People together, all kneeling
Most holy and merciful Father:
We confess to you and to one another,
and to the whole communion of saints
in heaven and on earth,
that we have let our laundry pile up.
The Celebrant continues
We have not paid attention to how many pairs of underwear we have left. We have not realized that the one pair of jeans we love the most lies dirty. We have run out of white socks.
Have mercy on us, Lord.
We have been deaf to your call to buy laundry detergent, and our manifold sins in this issue are intolerable to us.
Have mercy on us, Lord.
We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the
lack of attention to "delicate cycle" and "regular cycle",
We confess to you, Lord.
Our self-indulgent appetites and ways, and our exploitation
of wearing certain items of clothing after picking them out of the dirty clothes basket,
We confess to you, Lord.
Our anger at our own frustration, and our envy of those
who get their laundry done in a timely manner,
We confess to you, Lord.
Our intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts, and
our dishonesty in mixing "colors" and "whites",
We confess to you, Lord.
Our negligence in cleaning out the lint filter in the dryer, and our failure to
commend the faith that is in us,
We confess to you, Lord.
Accept our repentance, Lord, for the wrongs we have done:
for our blindness to our bulging dirty clothes basket, and our
indifference to what remains that we can wear to work and not look like a fool,
Accept our repentance, Lord.
For all false judgments, for uncharitable thoughts toward our
neighbors who actually IRON their clothes, and for our prejudice and contempt toward those
who never seem to "run out" of any item of clothing,
Accept our repentance, Lord.
For our waste and pollution of your creation, and our lack of
concern for using "earth-friendly laundry products",
Accept our repentance, Lord.
Restore us, good Lord, and let your anger depart from us;
Favorably hear us, for your mercy is great.
Accomplish in us the work of our laundry,
That we may show forth your glory in the world.
By the cross and passion of your Son our Lord,
Bring us with all your saints to the joy of his resurrection, white as snow, like bleached socks and underwear.
The Bishop, if present, or the Priest, stands and, facing the people, says
Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who
desires not the death of laundry slugs, but rather that they may turn
from their wickedness and live, has given power and
commandment to his ministers to declare and pronounce to
his people, being penitent, the absolution and remission of
their manifold laundry sins. He pardons and absolves all those who truly
repent, and with sincere hearts believe his holy Gospel.
Therefore we beseech him to grant us true repentance and his
Holy Spirit, that those things may please him which we do on
this day, and that the rest of our life hereafter may be pure
and holy, so that at the last we may come to his eternal joy;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Time for another silent movie break. From TCM:
In a small village on the coast of England, Theodora Fitzgerald marries elderly millionaire Josiah Brown in order to please her father, Captain Fitzgerald, and her two older, unmarried half-sisters. On their honeymoon in Switzerland, Theodora is taken under the wing of American widow Mrs. McBride, who accompanies Theodora on a mountain climb. When Theodora slips over a precipice while trying to take a photograph, she is rescued by the young and handsome Hector, Lord Bracondale, who earlier had saved her from drowning near the Fitzgeralds' cottage.
Fearing her growing attraction to Hector, Theodora flees to Paris with her husband. Hector follows them to Paris and encounters Theodora again while she is dining with her father and Mrs. McBride. The next day, while they are touring Versailles as Josiah rests in their hotel, Hector and Theodora realize that they are in love. Knowing that their love is too strong to allow them to see each other as friends, they decide to part.
Brokenhearted, Hector asks his sister, Lady Anningford, to befriend Theodora, which she does. Back in England, Lady Anningford invites Josiah and Theodora to her country estate for a weekend house party. Despite his best intentions, Hector again declares his love. Theodora resists him, however, but sends him a note confessing her feelings, at the same time sending a note to Josiah saying that she will soon join him back in London. Morella Winmarleigh, who loves Hector and had once considered as his future wife, sees Theodora drop the two letters into the estate's mailbox and redirects the letter for Josiah to Hector and the love note intended for Hector to Josiah.
After a confrontation between Josiah and Hector, Josiah decides to sacrifice himself for his wife's happiness and accompanies an exploration party to Arabia. His party is attacked by bandits, and he is fatally wounded just as Hector, Theodora, her father, and an escort arrive. Before he dies, Brown wishes the lovers happiness.
I have seen plenty of Valentino silents, but really, the bulk of my experiences with Gloria Swanson's films is pretty much wrapped up in "Sunset Boulevard" in her (somewhat autobiographical) portrayal as an aging star of silent film. I was captivated by her range of facial expression. I was also sort of surprised, that, devoid of flowing, flashy sheik costumes, Rudolph Valentino was a rather slightly built man.
But I guess what this film got me to thinking about was the whole business of how we often never truly follow our "heart's desire"--not necessarily in just romantic things, but just things in general. All the trouble in this movie starts because Theodora gets roped into doing something she knows is wrong for her.
It make me realize that a lot of times we are even afraid to express our heart's desires to God, and instead, we just do "what we think everyone expects of us," hoping that it is the right thing, figuring if everyone else feels this way, we must be the problem. Then we find out that because we did not really take our heart's desires into consideration in counsel with God, we settled for less than what God expects of us and what would have truly made us happy, even if the road to it seemed "harder", somehow.
I have been incredibly impressed with the number of Psalms in which it is apparent the psalmist was lying awake in bed, in either the early morning or late night, pondering God. I kind of had the delusion I was the only one who did that. I have a feeling this is much more universal than I realized.
We can't always be as lucky as Theodora, whose elderly rich husband conveniently died at the end of the movie. So part of what I am realizing is that my prayer time is not just "time to ask of God," or even just "time to hang out with God," although both of those functions are very important. Part of it is using time with God for "sorting things out." Part of it is to uncouple our heart's desires solely from ourself and lay them out there for God, so we can use discernment. Of course he knows what these desires are, but I think to release them from ourselves connects them to his realm so we can better understand his desires for us, and how these things all "fit".
You’re St. Jerome! You’re a passionate Christian, fiercely devoted to Jesus Christ and his Church. You are willing to labor long hours in the Lord’s vineyard, and you have little patience with those who are less willing or able to work as you do. Your passions often carry you into temptation zones of wrath, lust, and pride. Find out which Church Father you are at The Way of the Fathers!
(What is really funny about this is that book of the early monks I have been reading, I really also glommed onto the chapter about St. Jerome the other day, and occasionally my vicar thinks I can be a little "Jerome-oid" about the wrath thing, given I have a bit of a temper...)
Inspired by nka's post...
Kirkepiscatoid's top 10 reasons why HBO somehow managed to miss airing Bishop Gene Robinson's opening prayer for the Inaugural festivities:
10. Fred Phelps cut the cable.
9. Wasn't sung to the tune of "YMCA."
8. Bishop Gene wore a tasteful purple shirt instead of leather outfit with butt cheeks showing.
7. Could not finalize contract negotiations with former bishops of Pittsburgh and San Joaquin for play-by-play, halftime, and post-prayer commentary.
6. SAG rules say any non-union gays have to appear with Ellen DeGeneres or Rosie O'Donnell.
5. After reading Susan Russell's Facebook page, HBO found out the "Episcopalian Gay Agenda" on weekends consists of doing laundry and preaching, which won't boost the Neilsens.
4. They thought C-Span would pick it up.
3. He just stood there and prayed; no mincing or swishing.
2. Fox News and Bill O'Reilly came through with the "hush money" in the nick of time.
And the #1 reason...
1. Dick Cheney's daughter was on the dais and they could not figure a camera angle that didn't show her.
Between our Old Testament reading today (I Samuel 3:1-10, [11-20]) and an interesting thing that just happened in my pasture, I have been thinking about the value of hearing "that small still voice" that comes from inside us.
Samuel kept hearing his name called. It took him a while to realize that it was God calling him. He kept thinking it was Eli. I got to thinking about the times that "God has called my name" but it took me a while to figure it out. So much of my prayer and study time has learning to "observe."
I'll be honest, I've had one of those "bummer" weekends. I've told you about my friend M.J., who has dementia. I have moments when I realize another chunk of him is gone, and this realization is always sudden. Every now and then it totally catches me off guard. I had experienced another of those moments toward the end of the week, and spent a fair part of the weekend mourning it. The problem with dementia is you can't just mourn once and get it over with. You get to mourn REPEATEDLY. Ugh.
I have let a few of my friends in on the significance of "my sacred spot in the yard" and "my chiminea." (Actually, you blogfriends of mine know more about it than my real life friends.) So, on the suggestion of one of my friends "in the know," I went home after church and cranked up a fire in my chiminea.
(This is how despondent I was...I bagged coffee hour made by the Queen of Coffee Hour!)
So, I am sitting in my yard, bundled up, a heavy coat and a quilt over me, hunkered down next to the fire in my chiminea. I threw on a piece of mesquite to make it smell good. I tossed in a few sticks of incense to boot. I looked like something out of a Jack London story.
I was out there about 45 minutes, just feeling the heat on my front and the freezing wind on my back, smelling the smoke and looking up now and then watching the clouds go this way and that, and the sun peek out and make things just a little blue now and then.
Then the coolest thing happened.
This fox trotted up along the grass in my pasture across the road from me and my chiminea. Beautiful thick red coat and bottle-brush bushy tail. By the size and build, I was guessing she was a full adult "big mama vixen." Not really big enough or bulky enough to be a dog fox. I was admiring her bushy coat and her graceful trot.
She then stopped. Stopped dead in her tracks, sat down and looked at me. Not a fearful glance, but the way my dogs sit and look at me. She even cocked her head. Her dark black eyes met mine and held my gaze. We both sat and looked at each other for a good minute or more. Then she casually got back up and continued to trot down the road.
That was too weird. Foxes usually don't want anywhere NEAR people. But there she was, no more than 50 feet from me. Sitting. Looking. Not afraid.
In that moment, I realized, like Samuel finally did, that God speaks to us in voices we recognize.
I have always been more connected to nature than most people, because I simply enjoy sitting and observing. It dawned on me that God speaks to me indirectly through nature than any other mode. I got to wondering if this might have been a little more, um...direct.
I sat out there a while, straining my brain for the significance of the fox in Native American lore. I decided to go inside and make some coffee to take back out there with me, and did a little Googling while the coffee brewed.
Fox represents cunning, wildness and diplomacy. She also is a warning to keep one’s counsel, when to hold silence and when to break silence by quietly observing situations, then deciding what words to use. Fox, like Owl, is seen as a guide into the Spirit Realm. Fox is known for her ability to travel between dusk and dawn, and her ability to "shape-shift" as she can maneuver very small burrows.
In other words, she can observe and adjust.
There is an Apache legend that Fox killed an evil bear that was terrorizing the people with her cunning, causing him to fall into a fire in the forest, and Fox stuck her tail in the fire and brought it to the Apache people.
So unlike Coyote, who is seen as a trickster, Fox has a more positive bend to her meaning in Native American spirituality.
There I was by MY fire and Fox pays me a visit. In that moment, I realized, "I can observe, and I can adjust, like Fox, like Samuel."
By The Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson, Episcopal Bishop of New Hampshire
Opening Inaugural Event
Lincoln Memorial, Washington, DC
January 18, 2009
Welcome to Washington! The fun is about to begin, but first, please join me in pausing for a moment, to ask God’s blessing upon our nation and our next president.
O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…
Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.
Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic “answers” we’ve preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.
Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be “fixed” anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.
Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.
Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.
Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.
And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.
Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln’s reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy’s ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King’s dream of a nation for ALL the people.
Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.
Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.
Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.
Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.
Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters’ childhoods.
And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we’re asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.
AMEN.
