Easter and bunnies
Well, chocolate bunnies in our easter treat bags anyhow. Happy Easter to those of the persuasion.
I went over to Mom's about nine this morning (after a stop on the way for frozen corn at Whole Foods). We had donuts from a local bakery. They were raised donuts, and even though she picked them up on Saturday they were pretty good.
But Clarke threw a cog in our rest and relaxation day. See he brought his suit. He just bought it recently and wanted to show it off. Which meant going to church. ::sigh:: Now mom and I aren't heathens (well much of 'em anyhow) but we've really gotten away from organized religion. Mom feels religion is a private thing, between you and God. Me? Well, I've always been a bit of a skeptic, too much of a scientist. That being said, I still have my own beliefs.
Dad on the other hand grew up with a presbyterian minister for a father. Grandma was the choir director. He grew up believing the bible was Written Word. It wasn't until his fifties, that dad started looking at his faith closer. It hadn't occurred until then that perhaps the bible wasn't "gospel". During his introspection and evolving faith studies, he started attending a Quaker meeting house here Minneapolis. After several years, he became a member and has continued to look for understanding of his beliefs.
The meeting asked Dad to lead the worship today. I don't know if any of you have attended a Quaker meeting, but it's fairly "unstructured". His meeting has two services, the first doesn't have a leader (there is someone who is a closer, who makes announcements and leads a greeting) but for the most part is just silent reflection.
The second service has a leader. It went something as follows today: flute "prelude", silent reflection, first hymn, silent reflection, the leader share's his/her thoughts, reflection, second hymn, more reflection and finally the closer makes announcements. Now through these silent reflections (I believe at both services), people get up and comment on the leader's comments, or their own thoughts about the topic. The quote Dad used from Bishop John Shelby Spong's book, "A New Christianity for a New World" was attached to the weekly announcement page, so everyone at the first service also saw it. Apparently it made quite an impact (the term "blew them away" was mentioned to Dad) at that service.
I really liked Dad's comments today. In fact, I had him send me his text, and have put it behind the cut. It's an easy read, not long, and it just touched me.
The invitation to speak this morning grew out of a reference I made during a recent Marcus Borg discussion group here to some reading I'd done. That's what I want to share with you, but first some background.
If you're like me, from time to time you're asked, "Are Quakers Christian?" My first instinct … and what I sometimes do … is say in return, "That depends on your definition of Christian." Secondly, I make it plain that I can answer only for myself, not for my entire meeting and certainly not for all of Quakerdom. (Incidentally, the same question is sometimes asked about Plymouth Congregational Church here in Minneapolis, the wonderful, also non-creedal and universalistic community of faith where I'm blessed to be on the staff.)
The question is often loudest during Christmas and Easter. Christmas usually dismays me because it's about who many believe Jesus was, not about what he said and taught. I don't think that's what Jesus had in mind … as a matter of fact I think he'd be outraged not only by some Christian observances but also by the fact that a religion was named after him, for many Jesus scholars (and I've read just enough to be perhaps a little dangerous) many Jesus scholars tell us that he never pointed to himself … he was pointing us only toward God, and his mission was not to establish a new religion but to reform Judaism. As for Easter, Jesus scholars tell us that the bodily resurrection probably wasn't propagated by the disciples but by later writers and those who were struggling to establish a new religion. For the disciples, the spiritual resurrection they witnessed in a very real way was likely a reflection of their experience following Jesus' death -- their spiritual confidence that his teachings and example continued to live and make a difference, as indeed they have. And so I can joyously say, "He Is Risen!"
/response from the meeting "He is risen, indeed"/
Most so-called "liberal Quakers" are universalistic -- believing that there's more than one path to the sacred. I love the image of a mountain -- you might have heard it and I take some liberties to expand on it. At the top of the mountain is the divine. At it's base are the major faiths of the world. The faithful of all faiths are on a journey up the mountain on all sides to the one divine. I grew up in Montana and did my share of serious mountain climbing … I'm not talking hills … these were peaks in Glacier National Park that we took on with picks and ropes … truly spiritual experiences. As you know, you don't climb straight up a mountain. It often involves switchbacks. So, too, on our journey up the sacred mountain, hopefully with openness of heart, we crisscross, and progressing up the mountain -- growing on the journey -- we learn from the paths we cross of other faiths as well as our own Jesus-based tradition -- we learn from fellow travelers that seek the same mountain top … the same divine.
Few of us would deny Quaker faith has its roots in the teachings of Jesus, so if you'll envision with me this divine mountain with Jesus as the leader of our base camp and perhaps even our climb, all I've said brings me to a single paragraph from Bishop John Shelby Spong's book, "A New Christianity for a New World." When I first read this paragraph several years ago, it popped off the page at me and my whole being said "WOW!" Not only did I as a journalist appreciate the craftsmanship of his words, but he expresses succinctly what historical Jesus scholarship is all about and he adds clarity to my journey. I've read it 100 times at least and shared it often, and now share it with you.
"So my pathway into God allows me and even encourages me to sink myself deeply into the content of my tradition. I cannot begin at a point where I am not; I must begin where I am. So I scale the heights and plumb the depths of my own faith-system. I open the symbols of my faith-story and allow them to escape the molds of antiquity. I try quite deliberately to move beyond my scriptures, my creeds, my liturgies, my hymns, and my traditional devotions, recognizing each of these as containing the explanations of a particular time and place, but allowing none of them to continue to claim that they can do anything more than point to a truth they cannot capture. I remove from these things any sense of their completeness, their unchangeability, their infallible possibilities, their stance of being closed to new understandings, and then I seek to explore the experience that caused these artifacts to be created."
I don't think Mom cares for the Quaker worship structure (especially because it does tend to go on, an hour and a half of listening to people breathe can be daunting). But I love sitting there with my eyes closed just thinking. Now I don't spend every moment pondering the life Divine and scaling the mountain towards Truth. Please. I spent a good quarter hour this morning just reading the hymnal (it's a damn good hymnal, BTW). But I always enjoying attending, especially to support Dad.
After meeting, Mom, Clark and I returned to her house and put the roast in (ate the rest of the donuts). I popped Finding Nemo in for Mom and Clarke. I fell asleep. Dad got there about an hour later. While mom and Clarke finished the DVD, Dad kept me company while I peeled and cut up the potatoes.
Mom and I had shoped at a Super Target for the food. Pretty decent stuff. Basically dinner was beef roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn and cesar salad. It was pleasant. And after we finished, Mom, Dad and I sat around chatting while Clarke watched Star Wars (a new hope) on DVD. Then we had dessert (lemon tart and strawberry ice cream).
The only thing left to do at this point was wash the dishes (Dad and Clarke), take a nap (me) or read a book (Mom). Then we all went home.
Mom is really feeling the effects of the chemo drug. Her hair is very dry (she thinks she might lose it next). She's exhausted. Food generally all tastes wrong. Upset tummy. We're all worried for her, but hopefully she'll see some more improvement. Her pain gets worse as the drop the Prednisone dosage, but it's better than the RA pain.
Dad is doing well. As is Clarke. And me.
And I've got a whole bunch of easter candy. ::grin:: Sugar coma, ho!
I went over to Mom's about nine this morning (after a stop on the way for frozen corn at Whole Foods). We had donuts from a local bakery. They were raised donuts, and even though she picked them up on Saturday they were pretty good.
But Clarke threw a cog in our rest and relaxation day. See he brought his suit. He just bought it recently and wanted to show it off. Which meant going to church. ::sigh:: Now mom and I aren't heathens (well much of 'em anyhow) but we've really gotten away from organized religion. Mom feels religion is a private thing, between you and God. Me? Well, I've always been a bit of a skeptic, too much of a scientist. That being said, I still have my own beliefs.
Dad on the other hand grew up with a presbyterian minister for a father. Grandma was the choir director. He grew up believing the bible was Written Word. It wasn't until his fifties, that dad started looking at his faith closer. It hadn't occurred until then that perhaps the bible wasn't "gospel". During his introspection and evolving faith studies, he started attending a Quaker meeting house here Minneapolis. After several years, he became a member and has continued to look for understanding of his beliefs.
The meeting asked Dad to lead the worship today. I don't know if any of you have attended a Quaker meeting, but it's fairly "unstructured". His meeting has two services, the first doesn't have a leader (there is someone who is a closer, who makes announcements and leads a greeting) but for the most part is just silent reflection.
The second service has a leader. It went something as follows today: flute "prelude", silent reflection, first hymn, silent reflection, the leader share's his/her thoughts, reflection, second hymn, more reflection and finally the closer makes announcements. Now through these silent reflections (I believe at both services), people get up and comment on the leader's comments, or their own thoughts about the topic. The quote Dad used from Bishop John Shelby Spong's book, "A New Christianity for a New World" was attached to the weekly announcement page, so everyone at the first service also saw it. Apparently it made quite an impact (the term "blew them away" was mentioned to Dad) at that service.
I really liked Dad's comments today. In fact, I had him send me his text, and have put it behind the cut. It's an easy read, not long, and it just touched me.
The invitation to speak this morning grew out of a reference I made during a recent Marcus Borg discussion group here to some reading I'd done. That's what I want to share with you, but first some background.
If you're like me, from time to time you're asked, "Are Quakers Christian?" My first instinct … and what I sometimes do … is say in return, "That depends on your definition of Christian." Secondly, I make it plain that I can answer only for myself, not for my entire meeting and certainly not for all of Quakerdom. (Incidentally, the same question is sometimes asked about Plymouth Congregational Church here in Minneapolis, the wonderful, also non-creedal and universalistic community of faith where I'm blessed to be on the staff.)
The question is often loudest during Christmas and Easter. Christmas usually dismays me because it's about who many believe Jesus was, not about what he said and taught. I don't think that's what Jesus had in mind … as a matter of fact I think he'd be outraged not only by some Christian observances but also by the fact that a religion was named after him, for many Jesus scholars (and I've read just enough to be perhaps a little dangerous) many Jesus scholars tell us that he never pointed to himself … he was pointing us only toward God, and his mission was not to establish a new religion but to reform Judaism. As for Easter, Jesus scholars tell us that the bodily resurrection probably wasn't propagated by the disciples but by later writers and those who were struggling to establish a new religion. For the disciples, the spiritual resurrection they witnessed in a very real way was likely a reflection of their experience following Jesus' death -- their spiritual confidence that his teachings and example continued to live and make a difference, as indeed they have. And so I can joyously say, "He Is Risen!"
/response from the meeting "He is risen, indeed"/
Most so-called "liberal Quakers" are universalistic -- believing that there's more than one path to the sacred. I love the image of a mountain -- you might have heard it and I take some liberties to expand on it. At the top of the mountain is the divine. At it's base are the major faiths of the world. The faithful of all faiths are on a journey up the mountain on all sides to the one divine. I grew up in Montana and did my share of serious mountain climbing … I'm not talking hills … these were peaks in Glacier National Park that we took on with picks and ropes … truly spiritual experiences. As you know, you don't climb straight up a mountain. It often involves switchbacks. So, too, on our journey up the sacred mountain, hopefully with openness of heart, we crisscross, and progressing up the mountain -- growing on the journey -- we learn from the paths we cross of other faiths as well as our own Jesus-based tradition -- we learn from fellow travelers that seek the same mountain top … the same divine.
Few of us would deny Quaker faith has its roots in the teachings of Jesus, so if you'll envision with me this divine mountain with Jesus as the leader of our base camp and perhaps even our climb, all I've said brings me to a single paragraph from Bishop John Shelby Spong's book, "A New Christianity for a New World." When I first read this paragraph several years ago, it popped off the page at me and my whole being said "WOW!" Not only did I as a journalist appreciate the craftsmanship of his words, but he expresses succinctly what historical Jesus scholarship is all about and he adds clarity to my journey. I've read it 100 times at least and shared it often, and now share it with you.
"So my pathway into God allows me and even encourages me to sink myself deeply into the content of my tradition. I cannot begin at a point where I am not; I must begin where I am. So I scale the heights and plumb the depths of my own faith-system. I open the symbols of my faith-story and allow them to escape the molds of antiquity. I try quite deliberately to move beyond my scriptures, my creeds, my liturgies, my hymns, and my traditional devotions, recognizing each of these as containing the explanations of a particular time and place, but allowing none of them to continue to claim that they can do anything more than point to a truth they cannot capture. I remove from these things any sense of their completeness, their unchangeability, their infallible possibilities, their stance of being closed to new understandings, and then I seek to explore the experience that caused these artifacts to be created."
I don't think Mom cares for the Quaker worship structure (especially because it does tend to go on, an hour and a half of listening to people breathe can be daunting). But I love sitting there with my eyes closed just thinking. Now I don't spend every moment pondering the life Divine and scaling the mountain towards Truth. Please. I spent a good quarter hour this morning just reading the hymnal (it's a damn good hymnal, BTW). But I always enjoying attending, especially to support Dad.
After meeting, Mom, Clark and I returned to her house and put the roast in (ate the rest of the donuts). I popped Finding Nemo in for Mom and Clarke. I fell asleep. Dad got there about an hour later. While mom and Clarke finished the DVD, Dad kept me company while I peeled and cut up the potatoes.
Mom and I had shoped at a Super Target for the food. Pretty decent stuff. Basically dinner was beef roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn and cesar salad. It was pleasant. And after we finished, Mom, Dad and I sat around chatting while Clarke watched Star Wars (a new hope) on DVD. Then we had dessert (lemon tart and strawberry ice cream).
The only thing left to do at this point was wash the dishes (Dad and Clarke), take a nap (me) or read a book (Mom). Then we all went home.
Mom is really feeling the effects of the chemo drug. Her hair is very dry (she thinks she might lose it next). She's exhausted. Food generally all tastes wrong. Upset tummy. We're all worried for her, but hopefully she'll see some more improvement. Her pain gets worse as the drop the Prednisone dosage, but it's better than the RA pain.
Dad is doing well. As is Clarke. And me.
And I've got a whole bunch of easter candy. ::grin:: Sugar coma, ho!