I was having a conversation with a dear friend the other night. She too is Unitarian Universalist. When she had just begun attending the local UU church here, it was at a time when she worked at a very mono-religious place. She didn't fit the primary religious culture there, but the topic of religion and faith came up often. She was put into the position of explaining and representing her faith. This was all as a very recent UU who was early on in her own personal faith within this religion! She was questioned about her faith, and not just on a personal level. She was asked to explain the entirety of the religion. That is a tough task for anyone! However, I think it's even more difficult to ask someone to play this role when they are not a part of the dominant faith culture.
Most UUs I know are expected to have an "elevator speech" prepared that describes our faith because it's not a part of common understanding. This is true even among UUs because our faith is so personalized. Our faith does not require absolutes and answers. It's more about a searching and seeking for what is authentic for oneself. It does not mean "everything goes." It means finding ways to promote love, understanding, and personal responsibility. I think it's a difficult enough task to try to find an authentic way to live out one's faith without feeling the need to explain and, in some cases, defend it. There seems to be a precarious balance between a personal journey and representing it. One is an internal and the other external.
I still have a difficult time identifying my faith and what drives me at times. And I'm still really not comfortable saying "I'm not a Christian" because there are so many ramifications regarding my life as a Chaplain. But my truth is that I do believe that Jesus, among other leaders, was a guru and sage. I think he was a wise man who challenged conventional wisdom, did not fit the norm or expected, and promoted love and acceptance. But I cannot find truth or a need to believe in the story of the resurrection. His life is enough for me. I find encouragement and hope in his story as well as in the stories of other religious, political, social and scientific leaders throughout the ages.
My husband made an interesting point one day that has stuck with me. He said he thinks he is "culturally, but not religiously, Christian." We, as a part of the US culture, partake in Christmas and, to a lesser extent, Easter because we were raised within that culture. Does it speak to us religiously? No. But do we still find meaning in some of the rituals, especially those that gather our families together? Yes. I compare it to a person who identifies as Jewish because it is a part of their cultural makeup, but not necessarily a part of their daily or weekly life.
This past Sunday, my church's minister said something I appreciated and agree with: the world is changing. The religious landscape of our country is also changing. And many religions are going to have a difficult time because they are based on ideas that are more or less fixed. But Unitarian Universalism was and is built on a foundation able to shift and change much like the buildings of California able to move safely during earthquakes. It's current and willing to shift. My hope is that it will continue to have foundations of love, hope, and peace.
The subjects in this blog are so difficult for me to share in such an open forum, especially the part about not being a Christian, that I don't plan on sharing in on Facebook as I have with my last couple of blog posts. But I'm grateful that I was open and honest in this post and am still hopeful that someone might read it and value it.
Showing posts with label Theology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Theology. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The Cultural Location of Chaplaincy
My first experience of ever embracing the role of "Chaplain" was in Santa Monica, CA, where I was required/encouraged to introduce myself as one of the "Interfaith Chaplains" offered by the hospital. This was during my pre-UU days and it was interesting to be designated as interfaith even though I had only ever identified as Christian before. But something about that description resonated with me. Although, looking back I realize with blatant awareness that I was woefully ignorant of caring for others outside of Christianity. In that job, I learned how it can be a spiritual experience to learn Radiohead songs to sing with the Music Therapist on the Pediatrics floor with the kids. And that being present can be deeply healing. I recall that when my internship was ending, I was really mourning the loss of being a Chaplain.
Then after I graduated, I became a Hospice Chaplain for the first time in Ventura, CA. Some random things I miss about Ventura County are all the Spanish names for cities and street signs. There's very little trilling of R's in the South. Here, my Chaplaincy took on a new shape as most of my patients were Roman Catholic Latinos. I learned to retrieve resources from the local Catholic churches and to humbly offer them to patients and their families. At this job, I learned the value of cultural curiosity and sensitivity. When I made a genuinely caring effort, I was met halfway and then I could join the people I was caring for as we continued the journey together. I also gained a significant amount of confidence as a Chaplain. Not in a boasting, "Look at me, I'm THE Chaplain." But more in a, "I really value what I'm doing, I know I can be calm in the midst of chaos" kind of way. It was interesting though, because overall, many of my patients still weren't actively religious.
And then I moved to the Bible Belt. Whew. It has been an adjustment. To explain a little, I'd like to reference a conversation that I had with a fellow seminarian and Chaplain. She was doing her Chaplain Residency in New York. Most of the people she visited were not Christian, but a part of another faith or no particular faith group. She was hoping to hone her skills as a Christian Chaplain, but was finding this difficult because she didn't get a lot of practice in her cultural location. I, on the other hand, felt like I was a fish out of water in the opposite way. I would have loved to hone my skills at addressing the needs of people who are not Christians, but I'm a Unitarian Universalist in the Bible Belt, mostly caring for people who are conservative or fundamentalist Christians. And yet, I feel like my skill set is adjusting to this particular cultural location, to help me care for the people whose spirituality has been entrusted to me.
However, I did have a brief moment of panic (can it really be called panic if it's brief?) where I worried that my skills were becoming so fine-tuned for the people I care for now, that I would be deficient if Dan and I decided to move (which is not being considered, just an fyi). After presenting this fear to Dan, he calmly chimed in that he thought I had always adjusted my Chaplaincy to where we lived, and that he was fully confident that I could do it again.
So this post was a response to the actuality that I had indeed adapted by Chaplaincy style to the various cultural locations in which we've lived. It was a review and a relief. I'm also extremely grateful to have had the experience I did in the United Methodist Church growing up, because my church of origin gifted me with many skills I use often for my weekly visits. Visits which most often include: singing from my UM Hymnal with patients of various protestant backgrounds, reading from the Bible, reading from other literature and poetry, hearing and encouraging the telling of life stories, and praying (often in a way that reflects the conservative beliefs of the patient/family).
I still want to develop my ministerial identity for those who are UU or at least not a part of the mainstream religious identity here. For that, I look to my Worship Committee experience at my church and the various opportunities I'm given to pray in a non-conservative Christian way. The language is different and much more freeing. And yet, because the majority of my verbal prayers as a Chaplain do not feel reflective of UU, I feel out of practice every time I step up to the pulpit at my church. Being allowed and encouraged to use vocabulary like, "Spirit of love and of love, God of many names and many expressions..." and "in the name of all that is Holy, Amen"...they open possibilities. I feel like it could be worthwhile to write prayers and phrases down that are more true to who I am spiritually. A spiritual discipline perhaps?
Here are a few stirring phrases that I would like to use at my UU church in prayer:
God and Goddess, known to many in countless ways
Resonate within us a feeling of hope, connection, love and creativity
May we experience and recognize the blessings in our lives
May we ruminate in gratitude, deeply feeling all that which we have to be grateful for
For experiences that cause us distress, sadness, and mourning, may we be surrounded by the love of supportive souls...who nourish our pains with words of encouragement, loving hugs, and soulful presence.
When we are happy and want to celebrate, may we find people who help our joy double because they share it with us.
May we as a community of faith stand together throughout each others' life story
We have many histories gathered together, and yet we all ended up in this space, at this time...what a gift and a blessing in itself to be here. Now.
Let us all take a deep breath in while we ponder how fortunate we are to be in each others' presence.
In gratitude, in love, in mourning and in hope, we pray together in the name of all that is Holy and Sacred, Amen.
(Update since this was first posted: I prayed these words today at my UU Fellowship. I weaved them in with words that came in the moment and it was a beautifully spiritual experience.)
Then after I graduated, I became a Hospice Chaplain for the first time in Ventura, CA. Some random things I miss about Ventura County are all the Spanish names for cities and street signs. There's very little trilling of R's in the South. Here, my Chaplaincy took on a new shape as most of my patients were Roman Catholic Latinos. I learned to retrieve resources from the local Catholic churches and to humbly offer them to patients and their families. At this job, I learned the value of cultural curiosity and sensitivity. When I made a genuinely caring effort, I was met halfway and then I could join the people I was caring for as we continued the journey together. I also gained a significant amount of confidence as a Chaplain. Not in a boasting, "Look at me, I'm THE Chaplain." But more in a, "I really value what I'm doing, I know I can be calm in the midst of chaos" kind of way. It was interesting though, because overall, many of my patients still weren't actively religious.
And then I moved to the Bible Belt. Whew. It has been an adjustment. To explain a little, I'd like to reference a conversation that I had with a fellow seminarian and Chaplain. She was doing her Chaplain Residency in New York. Most of the people she visited were not Christian, but a part of another faith or no particular faith group. She was hoping to hone her skills as a Christian Chaplain, but was finding this difficult because she didn't get a lot of practice in her cultural location. I, on the other hand, felt like I was a fish out of water in the opposite way. I would have loved to hone my skills at addressing the needs of people who are not Christians, but I'm a Unitarian Universalist in the Bible Belt, mostly caring for people who are conservative or fundamentalist Christians. And yet, I feel like my skill set is adjusting to this particular cultural location, to help me care for the people whose spirituality has been entrusted to me.
However, I did have a brief moment of panic (can it really be called panic if it's brief?) where I worried that my skills were becoming so fine-tuned for the people I care for now, that I would be deficient if Dan and I decided to move (which is not being considered, just an fyi). After presenting this fear to Dan, he calmly chimed in that he thought I had always adjusted my Chaplaincy to where we lived, and that he was fully confident that I could do it again.
So this post was a response to the actuality that I had indeed adapted by Chaplaincy style to the various cultural locations in which we've lived. It was a review and a relief. I'm also extremely grateful to have had the experience I did in the United Methodist Church growing up, because my church of origin gifted me with many skills I use often for my weekly visits. Visits which most often include: singing from my UM Hymnal with patients of various protestant backgrounds, reading from the Bible, reading from other literature and poetry, hearing and encouraging the telling of life stories, and praying (often in a way that reflects the conservative beliefs of the patient/family).
I still want to develop my ministerial identity for those who are UU or at least not a part of the mainstream religious identity here. For that, I look to my Worship Committee experience at my church and the various opportunities I'm given to pray in a non-conservative Christian way. The language is different and much more freeing. And yet, because the majority of my verbal prayers as a Chaplain do not feel reflective of UU, I feel out of practice every time I step up to the pulpit at my church. Being allowed and encouraged to use vocabulary like, "Spirit of love and of love, God of many names and many expressions..." and "in the name of all that is Holy, Amen"...they open possibilities. I feel like it could be worthwhile to write prayers and phrases down that are more true to who I am spiritually. A spiritual discipline perhaps?
Here are a few stirring phrases that I would like to use at my UU church in prayer:
God and Goddess, known to many in countless ways
Resonate within us a feeling of hope, connection, love and creativity
May we experience and recognize the blessings in our lives
May we ruminate in gratitude, deeply feeling all that which we have to be grateful for
For experiences that cause us distress, sadness, and mourning, may we be surrounded by the love of supportive souls...who nourish our pains with words of encouragement, loving hugs, and soulful presence.
When we are happy and want to celebrate, may we find people who help our joy double because they share it with us.
May we as a community of faith stand together throughout each others' life story
We have many histories gathered together, and yet we all ended up in this space, at this time...what a gift and a blessing in itself to be here. Now.
Let us all take a deep breath in while we ponder how fortunate we are to be in each others' presence.
In gratitude, in love, in mourning and in hope, we pray together in the name of all that is Holy and Sacred, Amen.
(Update since this was first posted: I prayed these words today at my UU Fellowship. I weaved them in with words that came in the moment and it was a beautifully spiritual experience.)
Monday, January 3, 2011
Pondering on Sin and a Focus for the New Year
In my current theological frame of mind, I have some varying thoughts about sin. They have changed drastically over the course of my theological evolution. I used to believe wholeheartedly and fearfully in the concept of original sin as posed by a literal reading of the Bible. Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, disobedience by eating the forbidden fruit...BAM...sin. And so on forever since.
But that no longer holds the potency for me it once did. In fact, here's my paragraph regarding sin from my most current Credo statement:
"I believe sin is what happens when we forget to care outside of ourselves and instead treat other people and life forms as lesser than us. I believe that all people are affected by their cultural locations. Where there is poverty, limited choices, hunger and other difficulties there can exist the possibility of repetitive cycles. I believe that it is in these cycles where sin can, and does, prominently exist. I believe the cycle of sin can be broken by the efforts of people and acts of loving kindness focused on equality and justice."
I was recently told that "relative thinking" ("you believe what you choose to believe, and I'll choose what I believe") is a powerful tool of Satan--but Almighty God is sovereign, omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent." Wow. I could not think and believe more differently. Because to me, relative thinking is an opportunity to think outside of oneself and truly hear and embrace another person's point of view. So, in order to make this next statement, I want to be clear that I am, indeed, fully embracing the notion of relative thinking.
Here's my pondering: Is it possible that sin is a relative term befitting the human potential to neglect the worth and dignity of others at any given point in history? Therefore, is sin something that changes throughout the course of history rather than being a set disposition predetermined long ago by people from a holy book that I don't believe is factually true? In such a possibility, I can imagine sin manifesting itself in many different ways in history...through genocide, rape, murder, forced acquiescence to a particular religion/political view, closed-mindedness, hate. This is what religion has the potential to, and in my view, the responsibility to stand up against.
But there are such varying ways to consider approaching this. One thing that keeps me putting one foot in front of another is the hope that every kindness, every moment of love, peace, compassion and understanding, will make a difference. Thich Nhat Hanh writes, "The energy of mindfulness is a real energy, and wherever energy is applied, there is change." I believe in this energy, and I'm exploring new modes of prayer from this. In this coming year, I want to intentionally practice focusing on the energies of love, peace, compassion and understanding. And I want to work in small and large ways to increase their prevalence in this hurting world.
One more thing. I don't refer to the Bible as a historically accurate text, but that does not mean that I don't find value in it. Many people might refer to me as a "buffet style" religious person. At one point in my life, this was one of the singular most negative things I could be. But now, I'm seeing it as an accurate portrayal of who I am. I accept the fact that it's not a bad thing at all. It's just who I am. I do pick and choose among many different religions to piece together a singular whole that is right for me. A Seminary colleague said to me today, "God is the source of our diversity and is certainly big enough to embrace and accept that diversity, to reach us in whatever way will work for us."
And I absolutely do believe that the God of my understanding is right there with me in my search.
But that no longer holds the potency for me it once did. In fact, here's my paragraph regarding sin from my most current Credo statement:
"I believe sin is what happens when we forget to care outside of ourselves and instead treat other people and life forms as lesser than us. I believe that all people are affected by their cultural locations. Where there is poverty, limited choices, hunger and other difficulties there can exist the possibility of repetitive cycles. I believe that it is in these cycles where sin can, and does, prominently exist. I believe the cycle of sin can be broken by the efforts of people and acts of loving kindness focused on equality and justice."
I was recently told that "relative thinking" ("you believe what you choose to believe, and I'll choose what I believe") is a powerful tool of Satan--but Almighty God is sovereign, omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent." Wow. I could not think and believe more differently. Because to me, relative thinking is an opportunity to think outside of oneself and truly hear and embrace another person's point of view. So, in order to make this next statement, I want to be clear that I am, indeed, fully embracing the notion of relative thinking.
Here's my pondering: Is it possible that sin is a relative term befitting the human potential to neglect the worth and dignity of others at any given point in history? Therefore, is sin something that changes throughout the course of history rather than being a set disposition predetermined long ago by people from a holy book that I don't believe is factually true? In such a possibility, I can imagine sin manifesting itself in many different ways in history...through genocide, rape, murder, forced acquiescence to a particular religion/political view, closed-mindedness, hate. This is what religion has the potential to, and in my view, the responsibility to stand up against.
But there are such varying ways to consider approaching this. One thing that keeps me putting one foot in front of another is the hope that every kindness, every moment of love, peace, compassion and understanding, will make a difference. Thich Nhat Hanh writes, "The energy of mindfulness is a real energy, and wherever energy is applied, there is change." I believe in this energy, and I'm exploring new modes of prayer from this. In this coming year, I want to intentionally practice focusing on the energies of love, peace, compassion and understanding. And I want to work in small and large ways to increase their prevalence in this hurting world.
One more thing. I don't refer to the Bible as a historically accurate text, but that does not mean that I don't find value in it. Many people might refer to me as a "buffet style" religious person. At one point in my life, this was one of the singular most negative things I could be. But now, I'm seeing it as an accurate portrayal of who I am. I accept the fact that it's not a bad thing at all. It's just who I am. I do pick and choose among many different religions to piece together a singular whole that is right for me. A Seminary colleague said to me today, "God is the source of our diversity and is certainly big enough to embrace and accept that diversity, to reach us in whatever way will work for us."
And I absolutely do believe that the God of my understanding is right there with me in my search.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Unapologetically Myself...
...or at least trying to be.
When I was an über conservative Christian, I shared my faith all the time. I proudly wore cross jewelry showing off my faith before even saying a word. I lived my faith. Shared my faith. Was proud of it for the good news I believed it to be.
But now I have a different faith: Unitarian Universalism. And I believe it is also good news. News that some people really need to hear. News of a progressive, open, loving faith. A faith that doesn't think that people choose to be gay, but are born however they are born. A faith that promotes and is active in social justice. A faith that believes that multiple religious paths can combine into one personal spiritual journey.
One of the main differences between my current faith and my previous faith, is that my previous one was a mainline religion. People know of it, have their own beliefs regarding it, and probably their own stereotypes about it. But when people ask me about my faith now, there's this moment of "What did she just say? Unitar...Unit...what?" that crosses their faces and is often expressed in their words. So I, like many other Unitarian Universalists, have my "elevator speech" handy explaining my faith.
A part that hurts my heart is that my faith is treated poorly by many; disrespectfully and with scorn. And it's looked down upon, especially by those who are confused because I once knew the "Truth" (capital "T") as they believe it. But more than that, I sometimes feel guilty being UU because it is deeply embedded in me that Christianity and Jesus as the Christ is the only way. But I don't believe that. And feeling this guilt makes it hard to share my faith. However, I have witnessed some incredible Unitarian Universalists...colleagues, peers and mentors...who are so incredibly proud of our faith and who share it unapologetically. They are my role models and inspiration.
In the past month, I had a conversation with a woman I went to seminary with. V and I were talking about an everyday something at first, but ended up talking about our current geographical locations. I live in the Bible belt and she lives in Texas. And in each of these locations, we are not a part of the religious majority and find it difficult at times, especially because she chooses not to attend any religious body of worship. And then she said something that warmed my heart and choked me up. I'm paraphrasing, but she said that the way I talk about Unitarian Universalism made her want to try the local UU Congregation where she lives; that who I am as a religious person is the kind of faith person she would want to be.
It's become a goal for me to "be me" and embrace all of who I am in the various arenas of my life. For the most part, who I am on Facebook is the me I try to be. Granted, I feel safer and more open sharing my faith, political, and social views from behind my keyboard. But it's a jumping off point to become braver and more comfortable elsewhere. And I'm working on it. This blog is just another step at embracing myself for who I am, what I believe, and how I want to live my life.
So thank you for reading as I make one more effort to become unapologetically myself.
When I was an über conservative Christian, I shared my faith all the time. I proudly wore cross jewelry showing off my faith before even saying a word. I lived my faith. Shared my faith. Was proud of it for the good news I believed it to be.
But now I have a different faith: Unitarian Universalism. And I believe it is also good news. News that some people really need to hear. News of a progressive, open, loving faith. A faith that doesn't think that people choose to be gay, but are born however they are born. A faith that promotes and is active in social justice. A faith that believes that multiple religious paths can combine into one personal spiritual journey.
One of the main differences between my current faith and my previous faith, is that my previous one was a mainline religion. People know of it, have their own beliefs regarding it, and probably their own stereotypes about it. But when people ask me about my faith now, there's this moment of "What did she just say? Unitar...Unit...what?" that crosses their faces and is often expressed in their words. So I, like many other Unitarian Universalists, have my "elevator speech" handy explaining my faith.
A part that hurts my heart is that my faith is treated poorly by many; disrespectfully and with scorn. And it's looked down upon, especially by those who are confused because I once knew the "Truth" (capital "T") as they believe it. But more than that, I sometimes feel guilty being UU because it is deeply embedded in me that Christianity and Jesus as the Christ is the only way. But I don't believe that. And feeling this guilt makes it hard to share my faith. However, I have witnessed some incredible Unitarian Universalists...colleagues, peers and mentors...who are so incredibly proud of our faith and who share it unapologetically. They are my role models and inspiration.
In the past month, I had a conversation with a woman I went to seminary with. V and I were talking about an everyday something at first, but ended up talking about our current geographical locations. I live in the Bible belt and she lives in Texas. And in each of these locations, we are not a part of the religious majority and find it difficult at times, especially because she chooses not to attend any religious body of worship. And then she said something that warmed my heart and choked me up. I'm paraphrasing, but she said that the way I talk about Unitarian Universalism made her want to try the local UU Congregation where she lives; that who I am as a religious person is the kind of faith person she would want to be.
It's become a goal for me to "be me" and embrace all of who I am in the various arenas of my life. For the most part, who I am on Facebook is the me I try to be. Granted, I feel safer and more open sharing my faith, political, and social views from behind my keyboard. But it's a jumping off point to become braver and more comfortable elsewhere. And I'm working on it. This blog is just another step at embracing myself for who I am, what I believe, and how I want to live my life.
So thank you for reading as I make one more effort to become unapologetically myself.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Eat, Pray, Love
For my CPE Residency, I had a didactic presentation to do recently. I had to present a book I read to my group in a creative way. I actually really enjoyed my presentation and the time I had with my colleagues. Prior to the day of my didactic, I had purchased Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. After seeing a preview for the upcoming movie starring Julia Roberts, I decided I must read this book before watching the incredible looking movie. But seeing as I had another book I was supposed to be reading, I made myself promise that I wouldn't start this book until after my presentation day. Miraculously, I made it to that deadline (and then some) which is out of character for me. I think listening to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in my car (I couldn't read in there anyway!) helped. But Harry Potter was over and my didactic done, so I began this extremely interesting book about one woman's journey.
I'm already hooked. And, thought I'm only 38 pages into the story, I have already learned a bit about myself. So here are some of the insights that have come up for me from this enthralling novel: I haven't prayed directly to God in a long time. At least not consistently. Well, let me clarify. I actually do pray quite a lot in the hospital. I pray for patients and their families. I pray in our devotion time with my fellow chaplains. And, on the rarer occasion, I pray with and for one of my colleagues. But what I do not do consistently is pray to God, from my heart, for my heart.
Last week, one of my colleagues said something to me that hurt me deeply. I was being more open about the way I think about God, and energy, and the Universe. I was talking about my spiritual journey and how I had become UU. His response was honest, and, looking back I'm truly grateful for it. But, at the time, my heart broke a little. What he said was that he thought God hurt because of my spiritual decisions. From his perspective, God's incarnation in Jesus Christ is the only spiritual path. And those that choose otherwise are going against God's will and that therefore God would be hurt because of their decisions; because of my decision.
His honesty, which at first I shied away from, was something I have been exploring further in the past couple of days. What I realized earnestly...is that I disagree. The idea that trying to be who I authentically am is hurting God is deeply painful. But for me, I believe that God understands my search, even more than I do. I think God cares, is glad that I seek spiritual paths, and that I'm on this journey. So I talked to God about it, something I haven't done in a while.
I think part of why I shied away from conversations with God is because of how much I've changed since I was a very conservative Christian. Because I had changed so much, I thought my image of God must therefore change also. But what I'm realizing is that the God of my Christian self is still very much the God of my now-self. This was a surprise to discover. I also think of God as a spirit, the indefinable, hard to nail, floaty-God that I feel connected to in nature. Sometimes I imagine these two God images together, but I haven't often. Somehow I think owning that my image of God is similar to what it once was will help me see these two aspects of God together.
In Eat, Pray, Love, after Gilbert mentions "God" for the first time, she then writes,
"And since this is the first time I have introduced that loaded word-GOD-into my book, and since this is a word which will appear many times again throughout these pages, it seems only fair that I pause here for a moment to explain exactly what I mean when I say that word, just so people can decide right away how offended they need to get."
I chuckled, feeling like I understood how she felt.
She continued:
"... let me first explain why I use the word God, when I could just as easily use the words Jehovah, Allah, Shiva, Brahma, Vishnu, or Zeus...I have nothing against any of these terms. I feel they are all equal because they are all equally adequate and inadequate descriptions of the indescribable. But we each do need a functional name for this indescribability, and "God" is the name that feels the most warm to me, so that's what I use. I should also confess that I generally refer to God as "Him", which doesn't bother me because, to my mind, it's just a convenient personalizing pronoun, not a precise anatomical description or a cause for revolution. Of course, I don't mind if people call God "Her", and I understand the urge to do so. Again-to me, these are both equal terms, equally adequate and inadequate. Though I do think the capitalization of either pronoun is a nice touch, a small politeness in the presence of the divine." (p.13)
I don't think I intended to write that much at first, but I just wanted to include the entire excerpt in here. I call God different things. Sometimes I address the Universe in my prayers, a habit I picked up from the language of The Artist's Way. At my UU Fellowship the minister often addresses "Spirit of Life and Love" which also resonates with me. But I also find that the word "God" seems more encompassing and makes me think of many things at once. I like the openness.
This morning, during my morning pages, I addressed God about my feelings regarding what P said at work last week. I felt more connected to God than I had in a while. Another thought I toyed with is the idea that every person is divine, that our innermost core is sacred. And I wonder if the "substance" of God is the same as this sacred core. Following this line of thought, then connecting to myself means connecting to God. Hmm...food for thought and further consideration. I might address this again in the future.
For now, I'm heading away from the blogosphere, but I hope to return again soon!
Peace!
I'm already hooked. And, thought I'm only 38 pages into the story, I have already learned a bit about myself. So here are some of the insights that have come up for me from this enthralling novel: I haven't prayed directly to God in a long time. At least not consistently. Well, let me clarify. I actually do pray quite a lot in the hospital. I pray for patients and their families. I pray in our devotion time with my fellow chaplains. And, on the rarer occasion, I pray with and for one of my colleagues. But what I do not do consistently is pray to God, from my heart, for my heart.
Last week, one of my colleagues said something to me that hurt me deeply. I was being more open about the way I think about God, and energy, and the Universe. I was talking about my spiritual journey and how I had become UU. His response was honest, and, looking back I'm truly grateful for it. But, at the time, my heart broke a little. What he said was that he thought God hurt because of my spiritual decisions. From his perspective, God's incarnation in Jesus Christ is the only spiritual path. And those that choose otherwise are going against God's will and that therefore God would be hurt because of their decisions; because of my decision.
His honesty, which at first I shied away from, was something I have been exploring further in the past couple of days. What I realized earnestly...is that I disagree. The idea that trying to be who I authentically am is hurting God is deeply painful. But for me, I believe that God understands my search, even more than I do. I think God cares, is glad that I seek spiritual paths, and that I'm on this journey. So I talked to God about it, something I haven't done in a while.
I think part of why I shied away from conversations with God is because of how much I've changed since I was a very conservative Christian. Because I had changed so much, I thought my image of God must therefore change also. But what I'm realizing is that the God of my Christian self is still very much the God of my now-self. This was a surprise to discover. I also think of God as a spirit, the indefinable, hard to nail, floaty-God that I feel connected to in nature. Sometimes I imagine these two God images together, but I haven't often. Somehow I think owning that my image of God is similar to what it once was will help me see these two aspects of God together.
In Eat, Pray, Love, after Gilbert mentions "God" for the first time, she then writes,
"And since this is the first time I have introduced that loaded word-GOD-into my book, and since this is a word which will appear many times again throughout these pages, it seems only fair that I pause here for a moment to explain exactly what I mean when I say that word, just so people can decide right away how offended they need to get."
I chuckled, feeling like I understood how she felt.
She continued:
"... let me first explain why I use the word God, when I could just as easily use the words Jehovah, Allah, Shiva, Brahma, Vishnu, or Zeus...I have nothing against any of these terms. I feel they are all equal because they are all equally adequate and inadequate descriptions of the indescribable. But we each do need a functional name for this indescribability, and "God" is the name that feels the most warm to me, so that's what I use. I should also confess that I generally refer to God as "Him", which doesn't bother me because, to my mind, it's just a convenient personalizing pronoun, not a precise anatomical description or a cause for revolution. Of course, I don't mind if people call God "Her", and I understand the urge to do so. Again-to me, these are both equal terms, equally adequate and inadequate. Though I do think the capitalization of either pronoun is a nice touch, a small politeness in the presence of the divine." (p.13)
I don't think I intended to write that much at first, but I just wanted to include the entire excerpt in here. I call God different things. Sometimes I address the Universe in my prayers, a habit I picked up from the language of The Artist's Way. At my UU Fellowship the minister often addresses "Spirit of Life and Love" which also resonates with me. But I also find that the word "God" seems more encompassing and makes me think of many things at once. I like the openness.
This morning, during my morning pages, I addressed God about my feelings regarding what P said at work last week. I felt more connected to God than I had in a while. Another thought I toyed with is the idea that every person is divine, that our innermost core is sacred. And I wonder if the "substance" of God is the same as this sacred core. Following this line of thought, then connecting to myself means connecting to God. Hmm...food for thought and further consideration. I might address this again in the future.
For now, I'm heading away from the blogosphere, but I hope to return again soon!
Peace!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Theological Ramblings
Today during my CPE group, I was challenged with many difficult and upfront things. This is the first time I'm really beginning to process this, so I want to own that this is raw and new. I presented a Verbatim about a man whose father (the patient) was actively dying. This man used language that reminded me of my own Christian past. He spoke in terms of "believers" and "non-believers", was worried for his dad's soul, sounded judgmental of his family members who were also present, and specifically talked about his nephew who is "Unitarian or something." I felt caught in a difficult place trying to be there for this man and wanting to be true to who I am.
Here's some of what came up from the group discussion: I don't really know what my core beliefs are. I know I wrote my Credo statement in the Fall when I was in a "This I Believe" group at my UU Fellowship. But I still have a difficult time really knowing what I believe. The good thing about my faith is that I have the freedom to explore that. But within that freedom comes a lot of open area within which to live out my life as a person and as a minister.
I also was reminded, yet again, how much I have yet to deal with my fundamentalist Christian past. What am I afraid of? I think I'm still angry at the narrow-mindedness I had when in that place. I look at that time like I was a part of a narrow-minded, ignorant cult. And like I got out of it. But sometimes I wonder if I ended up in a similar system, just on the other end of the liberal-progressive pendulum. I was extremely judgmental as a Christian, and yet I am now judgmental as a UU also. I judge most Christians because I think they are judging others. Round and around it goes!
Questions I want to explore more: What were my core beliefs as a fundamentalist Christian? What of them still resonate true to this day? What core beliefs do I have now that are different and/or new from who I was.
I felt totally at a loss earlier today. I was with a group of people, some I've known almost a year, others I've known less...we've talked about really intimate thoughts and feelings. And yet, I really felt at a loss. I was overwhelmed, I felt like I could cry at any moment, but I didn't want to just then because I was worried I'd be asked to explore them and I didn't feel safe to. I walked out of that room feeling like...I didn't have a clue who I was. I couldn't think straight. Did I want to be alone? Did I want to have lunch with the group? Did I want to go on with other conversations and pretend like I didn't feel like I was in a theological turmoil? Yes. In fact, I wanted to pretend that was the case. But more than that, I wanted that not to BE the case.
I feel like I have a lot of searching to do. I want to figure out more why I'm so scared to share my faith and why I think that sharing it is imposing on others. I still have a lot of anger toward Christianity, but it's not all Christianity. When I think of most of my friends from Seminary and their Christian faith, I feel much more peaceful and hopeful. I think it has to do with being in the south, and maybe Wilmington in particular. I definitely need to explore this. My friend, K, wrote a sermon for his UU Fellowship about making peace with Christianity. I need to do that. Not just with the Christianity of my past, but with myself. I am still me. The person I remember from back then still exists...in me. She's still me. I'm different, I've changed, I think differently, love differently, believe differently. But maybe not in all the ways I think. I wonder how much overlaps more than I wish it did. And I wonder about why I need the separation. My faith says it's open to all spiritual paths. I want to believe that. I want to live that way. And for me to do it for others, I need to begin by doing it for myself.
So much work ahead. But hopefully the path leads to further self-awareness and enlightenment.
Here's some of what came up from the group discussion: I don't really know what my core beliefs are. I know I wrote my Credo statement in the Fall when I was in a "This I Believe" group at my UU Fellowship. But I still have a difficult time really knowing what I believe. The good thing about my faith is that I have the freedom to explore that. But within that freedom comes a lot of open area within which to live out my life as a person and as a minister.
I also was reminded, yet again, how much I have yet to deal with my fundamentalist Christian past. What am I afraid of? I think I'm still angry at the narrow-mindedness I had when in that place. I look at that time like I was a part of a narrow-minded, ignorant cult. And like I got out of it. But sometimes I wonder if I ended up in a similar system, just on the other end of the liberal-progressive pendulum. I was extremely judgmental as a Christian, and yet I am now judgmental as a UU also. I judge most Christians because I think they are judging others. Round and around it goes!
Questions I want to explore more: What were my core beliefs as a fundamentalist Christian? What of them still resonate true to this day? What core beliefs do I have now that are different and/or new from who I was.
I felt totally at a loss earlier today. I was with a group of people, some I've known almost a year, others I've known less...we've talked about really intimate thoughts and feelings. And yet, I really felt at a loss. I was overwhelmed, I felt like I could cry at any moment, but I didn't want to just then because I was worried I'd be asked to explore them and I didn't feel safe to. I walked out of that room feeling like...I didn't have a clue who I was. I couldn't think straight. Did I want to be alone? Did I want to have lunch with the group? Did I want to go on with other conversations and pretend like I didn't feel like I was in a theological turmoil? Yes. In fact, I wanted to pretend that was the case. But more than that, I wanted that not to BE the case.
I feel like I have a lot of searching to do. I want to figure out more why I'm so scared to share my faith and why I think that sharing it is imposing on others. I still have a lot of anger toward Christianity, but it's not all Christianity. When I think of most of my friends from Seminary and their Christian faith, I feel much more peaceful and hopeful. I think it has to do with being in the south, and maybe Wilmington in particular. I definitely need to explore this. My friend, K, wrote a sermon for his UU Fellowship about making peace with Christianity. I need to do that. Not just with the Christianity of my past, but with myself. I am still me. The person I remember from back then still exists...in me. She's still me. I'm different, I've changed, I think differently, love differently, believe differently. But maybe not in all the ways I think. I wonder how much overlaps more than I wish it did. And I wonder about why I need the separation. My faith says it's open to all spiritual paths. I want to believe that. I want to live that way. And for me to do it for others, I need to begin by doing it for myself.
So much work ahead. But hopefully the path leads to further self-awareness and enlightenment.
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