Thursday, October 29, 2020

Planning Trips



A friend and I are going on a short trip from Arizona to New Orleans. It's his birthday that week, so this is how he wanted to celebrate and invited me along.  After pondering and considering, I finally said, "Hey, what the heck!". Hence, I now have this trip scheduled on my refrigerator calendar.

Usually, I am somewhat familiar with travel mechanics: make a list for things to be packed, double-check what's in the suitcase, drive or get transport to the airport, check where the gate is, etc.  This time things are somewhat different. I'm traveling with someone else instead of alone. We're taking a train one way and flying back. Hotel reservations have been made. We have held discussions on whether it will be warmer to wear slacks and jeans and whether a sweater or a jacket would be more suitable. Good thing we aren't leaving until about three weeks from now, given the decisions we still have to make.

 I'm a bit OCD about making sure everything is straight regarding directions, times, etc. However, my friend's OCD makes me look like an amateur.  He has the whole trip planned out as to where we have to be, when, and what options we have. Tomorrow we're running a rehearsal of sorts for going to the airport we'll be coming back to, finding our parking area, and so forth, even though we'll be doing it in reverse when we return. I will probably forget what we rehearsed by the time the plane lands. Still, somehow, right now, it feels a bit comforting to have a visual plan in my head among so many unknowns.

This trip planning has reminded me of other journeys I've made, both in the sense of travel and in different ways as well.  I needed a schedule when I had to leave my house, including having everything out of it, utilities turned off, and my new quarters filled with the stuff I was taking with me. If I'm going somewhere I am not familiar with, I have to make sure I study a map or set my Google trip app to make sure I know when and where I have to turn, etc. Even then, I often take a rehearsal trip there a day or two in advance to get a feel for where it is, what side of the road it is on, and what landmarks I should look for.

All of this makes me wonder about a much more important trip. I don't know of a single Christian who isn't planning to go to Heaven. I know I do (or at least I hope and pray I do), but how much time do I actually spend planning out the journey. It's not that I need the Google app, maps, timetables, or lists of things to do that I can cross off one by one. Still, am I just trusting that if I live out my life without making huge mistakes, breaking most if not all the Ten Commandments, and try to love my neighbor as myself, will that be enough to get me in the Pearly Gates or merely a place alongside the golden fence, sadly looking in through the bars at the wonders God prepared for the elect?  I know for sure St. Peter would not like for me to ask for a "do-over."

So how do I prepare for Heaven? I'm sure more prayer would be a good idea and being present with a real congregation. I'm sure adherence to the Ten Commandments and especially the Sermon on the Mount would be steps in the right direction. Then, of course, there would be doing things like visiting the sick and imprisoned, caring for widows and orphans, feeding the hungry, finding shelter for the homeless, treating all persons alike, regardless of race, creed, color, ethnicity, orientation, or whatever. That's a pretty long list right there. And all of them are doable in one way or another.

Still, will any of these get me into Heaven on its own? It might, but then, God might expect that if I can do one of these, I can do more than one, or maybe more than ten, or perhaps whatever comes my way that needs doing. I honestly don't think Heaven is limited to one kind of saint;  even the saints' list is full of people of different talents, abilities, proclivities, cultures, and beliefs. And I'm not sure any of them were so focused on getting themselves into Heaven that they ignored jobs God had for them to do.

I'll keep on planning my trip, but I think that between now and then (as well as the sitting-in-the-window-of-the-train-looking-at-the-scenery), I'll be giving some thought and planning for the BIG trip I hope I will be getting ready for the rest of my life.

 Now, where did I put that list?

God bless

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, October 23, 2020.

Saturday, October 17, 2020

Faith and Voting




I'm sitting here looking at a ballot that came today.  I remember doing something similar four years ago, confidently marking off the choices I had made and then sealing it for the mailbox the next day.  This year I am a bit slower and more deliberate in most of my options, although the one at the top is the easiest for me to make. I made that decision was made some time ago.

What makes me pause is all the people running for county offices like the school board and judges and justices, all of whom seem to be incumbent. I really don't feel informed enough or even qualified to determine whether or not to retain them, how they ruled on various cases, whether their politics affected their judgments, and do they follow the laws and statutes set for them to uphold. Still, I am grateful to have the opportunity to have a say in whether or not they continue to serve.

Then there are the propositions that affect different parts of our town, city, county, or state government operations. Some are proposed to increase budgets for repairing the infrastructure and funding for school, fire, police, parks and recreation, housing, or medical entities. They are essential because they help decide where we put our priorities money-wise and which causes we feel about most strongly. Again, it is my duty as a citizen to take these seriously and make my feelings known by how I vote.

Most years, I've just filled out the ballot as best I could and mailed it off without a lot of consideration. However, this year requires some thought over and above just voting as quickly as possible and stuffing it in the envelope to be mailed out the next day. There's so much at stake. Last time it seemed the people wanted one candidate to serve as President. Still, the Electoral College decided something entirely different. Will that happen again? Am I voting my conscience and belief only to have it thrown out by a group that pledges its votes personally rather than how its constituents wish?

There wasn't a government system that allowed citizens to vote on representatives and issues in Jesus's time.  Rules, laws, taxes, and such came down from the very top and trickled down to the poorest of the poor. In our own country, a group of men of one ethnic group got together and decided that we needed to be free from the seemingly arbitrary rules and taxes imposed on us by a group of wealthy merchants and landowners (not to mention the Monarchy). With Jesus, it was a matter of taking it or facing the consequences. It was that simple.

One of the significant issues in this election is somewhat hidden from sight – religion. We've heard lots about Evangelicals, Catholics, and others expressing their religious stances on things. Still, there are those of us who quietly look at what God has asked us to do and tried to get on with it to make God's wishes reality. We don't go around signing Bibles as if we were in a bookstore, autographing Bibles as if we had written them ourselves. We read what is in that Bible and look to see where God wants us to go and do.

There are many rules and regulations in the Bible, no doubt, but are we really so caught up in whether or not to wear a cotton-nylon blend in clothing, eating chicken instead of shrimp, or keeping our herds separated by color? We need to pay attention to the vital stuff – loving our neighbors, doing justice, loving mercy, walking humbly with God, helping the poor and needy, caring for the young and elderly who are less able to care for themselves, and above all, preserving or even replanting the earth we live on by God's command.

This election year, I'm thankful to have the opportunity to do what I can with the cardboard piece I have, marked with names and blank spaces to indicate my support or not as I feel God wants me to do. Some choices are no choices at all, while others are much harder to make. Still,

I have this gift of being able to express my preferences. Many generations of my forebears didn't have that opportunity. Some of us here in America didn't get the privilege until the second decade of the last century. I owe it to them to respect what they fought for and exercise the rights they earned for us for our common good.

Now I'm off to mark my ballot with thought and prayer. I hope when the time comes to vote, everyone looks to see where God is in their voting and in their desire for the way our country should go in the next few years. It's the one hope I cling to in this most chaotic, fearful, plague-ridden, violence-prone, disrespectful, and uncertain of years.

God bless us all.

 

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, October 17, 2020.

Saturday, October 10, 2020

The World of Dreams




With All Souls’ Day just around the corner (and to give me something to think about other than elections, debates, and the occasional fly), I’ve been casting about in the messy file cabinets of my mind. I seem to have opened the drawer of dreams, one I seem to open somewhat frequently, and thoughts have come pouring out, just waiting to be sorted out and organized.

One of the topics I seem to have in my dreams is places, some that I have been to and cherished for years and some that I have only experienced from videos and National Geographic magazine.  I’ve also visited (or been visited by) people I love, both living and dead, whose presence quite often make me think and consider something from a new angle.

I visit the river that flows next to my home town. This time I think of the Revolutionary War, the carnage and loss, and the boats and sailors lost in that river during the final days. Remains of those ships are still being discovered in the mud of the river bottom over 200 years after their sinking. I see faces of people like Washington, Lafayette, Pulaski, and others, familiar through years of seeing their portraits hanging on museum and visitors’ center walls.

I visit imaginary towns, like Three Pines from the mystery series by Louise Penny. It reminds me of home – everybody knows everybody else and with very few secrets remaining unknown. It’s quiet, beautiful, and comforting. Yes, murder and disaster visit there with great regularity,  but still, the village seems cozy, warm, and someplace I’d like to find in reality someday.  

I’ve been to the England of my dreams many times, although never in the flesh. I’ve met the Queen on several of those occasions, where I am alternately a close friend, a servant, and an admirer. I make no secret that I am an unabashed fan of that lady, both for her devotion to duty and her engaging smile.

I’ve had visitations with friends who have died. It’s no secret they visit more often at this time of year than any other, but they are always welcome. Each one was a gift from God to me when I needed help, support, or just plain love, and each is a treasured memory. I do notice that politics, pandemics, and wars seldom invade my dreams, thankfully. There are usually enough everyday problems and stresses to deal with as much in dreamland as in my waking hours.

Very seldom do I dream of sacred figures – God, Jesus, the Spirit, saints, and martyrs. I wonder why? I pray every night before I go to sleep, but I don’t see angels leaning over my bed with their wings arching over me in protection. Jesus never gives me answers to questions I have when I dream. The only time I remember seeing God was when an image of God stretching out his finger to Adam in the Creation panel of the Sistine Ceiling. I wonder – had God been perceived as a woman, what would Michaelangelo’s rendition of that moment be like?

I wonder what it would be like to have God visit in my dreams, perhaps giving me some advice or answering some questions I can’t seem to answer myself. It’s not about “Why do good people suffer, and bad people get away with their badness?” but more about “What is the one thing I can do to make the Kingdom of God come closer to reality on earth right now?” Now that would be a question worth asking, in my very humble opinion.

Perhaps a question I might add, whether in dream-state or awake and pondering, is, “What exactly do You mean by ‘do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?” Does that mean we should eschew executions in favor of life imprisonment for heinous criminals? Do we have the right to take lands away from people and tribes so that some already-rich folks can make more money? Do we separate infants and children from their parents to teach them not to try to break the law of a country that once proclaimed, “Give me your tired, your poor”? Is a world of fear and anger one You intended for us? Why do we no longer respect elders who have lived longer and seen more than anyone else, and who could offer so much knowledge? Why do we deny the wisdom and the stories they tell of massacres, holocausts, and trails of tears that they experienced but which are often rejected by the younger people?

Could dreams be a way of passing the message of the Kingdom on?  Dreams in the Bible were important and respected as such. Do we need to look to our own dreams to see what can be learned or possibly put into action?  Could our loved ones be heard from beyond death to give us messages that we need to hear?  I can wonder about that, but I can also be aware that there is truth in that concept. I simply need to listen – and remember.

God bless

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday October 10, 2020.

Saturday, October 3, 2020

Debates, Manners, and Jesus



It’s finally October, thanks be to God!  The worst of the summer is over with its heat, fires, lack of rainfall (here in the west, that is), and all the other things that have made summer so hard. Of course, the whole year has been rather crummy; the COVID-19 figures continue to rise, people continue to dismiss wearing masks because it seems to violate their Constitutional rights (I don’t think the Founding Fathers had something like a pandemic in mind when they penned the constitution and its subsequent amendments). It was a lot different back then, something we forget in our attempt to put everything into the modern context. Funny, people do the same thing with the Bible; they want customs, mores, and words from more than two millennia ago to apply as we want it today. It just makes the year 2020 even more confusing, upsetting, and almost unbearable.

I never took debate in school (my mind never could work that fast or retain that many facts), but I know the general form of how a debate goes. I’m sure Jesus knew how to discuss points of theology and Judaic law with the learned rabbis. He was only twelve when his parents found him in the Temple doing just that. At twelve years of age. Most of us can’t do it even when we become elders. We were taught, though, to hold respectful discussions instead of screaming matches with pointing fingers, angry words, constant interruptions, and personal attacks. Those kinds of conversations aren’t debating; they are verbal no-holds-barred bullying and rudeness.  I know if I’d performed in that way at home, much less in public, Mama would have smacked me sixteen ways from Sunday, followed by an hour or more’s lecture on proper manners. One thing Mama, a good Southern Baptist and Republican, didn’t tolerate was lack of manners.

It’s one thing to get mad righteously.  Jesus overturned the tables of the moneychangers as a righteous act. He healed on the Sabbath as virtuous acts. He talked to people Jews such as himself weren’t supposed to, told stories that illustrated acts of kindness and charity done by people the Jews considered outcasts to bring home specific points, and used lots of metaphors and allegories to draw word pictures for his followers to help them understand his lessons.

Jesus seemed rather testy from time to time, such as when he cursed the fig tree for not bearing fruit out of season, but that had a point he wanted people to get. He practiced patience and love rather than use volume, interruptions, angry gestures, and behavior that almost mimics the ones performed by a toddler in the terrible twos. I wonder – did Jesus go through the terrible twos? If so, how did Mary handle it? Whether he was naturally a good child, taught well by Mary, or representing God authentically, he left us lessons to follow and to apply to our daily lives, showing others the love that God and Jesus wanted us to demonstrate to one another.

I’m hoping the last three months of this year will be more tranquil and productive than the first nine. We have had enough strife, anger, rudeness, bullying, divisiveness, and fear. I’d love to see the run-up to the feast of the birth of our Saviour to be a time of joy, light, and promise, just for a change. I’d like to have a quiet, peaceful, and contemplative Advent as a prelude. It would be lovely to have a Thanksgiving where we could gather with our families after long separations and continued vigilance against a common pandemic enemy. I’d even like to see children (and adults) celebrate All Hallow’s Eve as a time of fun, and the Feasts of All Saints and All Souls as times to remember those who have passed beyond the veil but who live on in our minds and hearts.

I know. First, we have to get a handle on the pandemic and get past the elections and their aftermath. I pray that will all happen quickly, or at least with dignity, obedience to the laws of God and humankind, and gently. Is that too much to ask? Possibly, but there’s always the power of prayer, faith, good works, and Godly acts.

You never know. Miracles happen . . .

God bless.

 

Originally published on Speaking to the Soul at Episcopal Café, Saturday October 3, 2020.