contemplation – Page 2 – Spirit Reflections

“Remember me”?

June 23, 2021

In my early years of ministry, I found myself in a life-changing position for all involved. A teenager and her mother came to me for direction because the single teen (I will call her Beth) was pregnant. Beth had the support of her mother for whatever decision she made, but it was clear that what both wanted was my blessing for an abortion, a life and soul-changer for me.

Throughout my upbringing, my parents and my previous denomination had ingrained in me the conviction that life begins at conception and that abortion is murder and thus a serious sin with dire consequences for the mother and her salvation. For years, I heard the minister pray for “unwed mothers” in his litany of intercessions (but never for unwed fathers who somehow got off the hook on this one). I knew enough psychology to speak about the very real after-effects of abortion on the mental health of the mother, the guilt and shame that quite possibly could haunt her the rest of her life. And I knew something of the soul and its spiritual health. But could I condone an abortion? This may have been the ultimate test of my ministry.

In my current denomination, a gracious doctrine states that “God alone is Lord of the conscience.” I am convicted by that. Only God knows the human heart, and no single person can force her or his beliefs on another. The Good News of the gospels can be shared, and is shared, but no minister has control over another’s conscience. In that moment I realized that no matter what I, personally, believed, this decision was not mine to make, condone, or to judge. All I could do—and what I did do—was reassure Beth how much she was loved, not just by her mother and by me, but by God.

Today’s headlines surrounding conservative American Catholic bishops who hope to bar President Biden from the communion table because of Biden’s pro-choice stance both stun and sadden me, and also resurrected this years-past memory of Beth. When did abortion become the ultimate sin? When did homosexuality? According to Jesus Christ, there are quite a few sins of which we are guilty, including evil thoughts, theft, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness (see Mark 7: 21-22). If I recall correctly (and I do), Jesus forgave the woman caught in adultery, pardoned the thief crucified with him, commissioned the woman at the well as his first disciple (see John 4), forgave Peter for betraying him, and washed the feet of Judas, his traitor, including him in the first communion around the Seder table. As Jesus did so, he said, “Remember me.”

How well are we remembering the Christ—or whoever we follow who models love–in today’s politically charged, divisive and abusive environment? Where do we see grace and love being practiced? How do we condone our actions and our allegiances in relation to what the gospels proclaim? What I am witnessing daily is Christ’s body being broken in countless ways that have nothing to do with what he taught. Our current president doesn’t hide his religious devotion but embraces it and relies on it to lead him. And the powers that be are threatened, not unlike the religious leaders of Jesus’ time. Not only are they trying to punish a faithful believer, who like the rest of us—and like them—is not perfect, but they are also dredging up all the hurt, the shame, the loss, and the guilt that surround so many women who have had abortions. They are making the “woman’s” sin the ultimate sin.

Pray God that we do remember Christ and all other spiritual leaders that teach love, compassion, inclusion, and healing. But may we do more than remember. May we act like them. Blessings to you~ Rosemary 20rosepoet20@gmail.com.

Do All Religions “Suck”?

June 14, 2021

A couple of days ago, I happened to find myself a lane over and behind a compact car that sported two identical bumper stickers which read: “All Religions Suck.” I guess the driver wanted to make her or his point twice. I wished at that moment that I could have stopped the car and gone over to the driver and had a conversation about the bumper stickers. What was the story, the experience, that led this person to so emphatically pronounce this opinion? All religions suck? Not, perhaps, just a few? But the traffic light changed, the car turned off the main road, and I am stuck wondering, days later, about those bumper stickers.

Having been raised in a dogmatic Christian Church which eventually I left, I can understand how a person can be wounded by religion. I still fight that old, ingrained guilt instinct. But I didn’t leave religion; I moved on to something more in line with the Christ as my soul understands the Christ to be. Having pastored churches for almost twenty years, I can understand why someone would resist the autocratic system of so many of our denominations, along with the rules that sometimes make quite clear who is “in” and who is “out.” I understand religion’s insider lingo and have worked to make the language more welcoming, clear, and inclusive. I’ve seen, and even been part of, the “raw meat” work of institutionalized religion, aware that sometimes what we do doesn’t match what we say we believe. Religion is, after all, a human product and therefore flawed, no matter whose religion it is.

But I wonder if it all sucks?

Years ago, when I was listening for the Spirit to prompt me to a new place of worship, my husband and I happened to walk into a church where the pastor was preaching on the difference between The Law and Love. I knew plenty about The Law, so I was interested in hearing what he had to said. He told a personal story about being raised in a church that relied on The Law, and that when his parents were divorced in the 1940’s because of his father’s alcoholism, his mother, who had custody of the children, was not longer allowed to receive communion. Divorce was a sin, no matter what. Yet every Sunday his mother took her two sons to that same church, dropped them off for worship, sat in her car and prayed until they were through, at a time when she most needed her faith community. The pastor vividly remembered all of this—the shame, the embarrassment, the exclusion, the indifference of his church, the consequences of The Law. Yes, religion sucked at the time for him and made such an impact on him that he went to seminary in the same denomination, was ordained, and spent his vocation teaching about practicing Love over The Law, about how Love embraces those who are wounded, about how Love includes, not excludes, about how Love offers a mercy so deep and so wide that nothing we do can ever break that bond. His message resonated with me and my own experiences and changed me that day. We joined that particular church, and ten years later, I found myself called into ministry where I preached—and still preach—Love. The Law has its place, but when we idolize it over God, we lose Love.

I wish I could have listened to that driver’s story. I suspect it might be very similar to this pastor’s experience. I wish for so many people that religion didn’t suck, but that within religion they might find an opening, a thin space, that leads them to experience being loved, just as they are, just because they are.

We all come from the same Divine Source, a source of Love. When we look at what wounds us or offends us about religion, it usually has to do with how we, humans, have twisted and tried to control the gift given so freely to us because it is so hard for us to love. What I am invited to do is to continue to believe in and practice Love where I can, as I can, and to tell anyone who comes along this blog that you, too, are loved. Don’t let religion tell you otherwise. Blessings to you ~ Rosemary 20rosepoet20@gmail.com

Lakes, Chapels, God, and Prayer

Memorial Chapel, Lake Junaluska, North Carolina/Rosemary McMahan

May 25, 2021

We recently returned from western North Carolina where we had the opportunity to visit Lake Junaluska, situated in the heart of a Methodist Camp and Conference Center and surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains and numerous old shade trees. If ever there were a place to commune with the Divine, by whatever name one calls it, Lake Junaluska is certainly at the top of the list.

A friend had suggested that we visit Memorial Chapel, nested against the lakeshore. The picturesque small stone church with a view of the placid lake through its arches calls for guests, for those who seek peace to come and sit inside and rest/pray awhile. We approached a groundskeeper and asked if the chapel was open. Her response was, “During Covid it was opened 24 hours a day for people to come in and pray, but now that things have gotten better, it is not opened as often.” Then, half-embarrassed by the irony of her reply, she chuckled a bit, shrugged, and returned to watering the flowers.

My instant thought was, “Isn’t that just like human nature?” I guess we didn’t need God anymore. There we were, in the midst of a religious community, and the chapel was closed because things had “gotten better.” I realized, again, how often we want God, Yahweh, Allah, Abba, Jesus, Divinity on our own terms, when we want it, when we need it. I recalled the amazing increase in worship after 9/11, until we realized that—at least for a time—the terrorist attacks were over and life could return to somewhat normal. The sky hadn’t fallen, yet, so God could be put on hold.

Yet that notion is so contrary to at least three world religions. Jesus Christ constantly modeled prayer. Paul of the New Testament stated we should, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, ” (1 Thessalonians, verses 16-18). Early in monastic life, the “Liturgy of the Hours” was developed that outlined seven times for prayer each day, following the Jewish example of seven times of prayer found in Psalm 119, verse 164: “Seven times a day I praise you . . . ” Muslims are instructed to pray five times a day. Nowhere is there a stipulation to pray only in a crisis. We fickle humans seem to have invented that one ourselves.

The closed chapel also made me wonder how much we tend to use God, just like we sometimes use other people. When we are in need of something bigger than us, or beyond our control, we cry out for help and healing, solace and sympathy. When the crisis is over, we often forget our relationship with the Divine until another crisis or hard time hits. We forget we are invited into a two-way relationship, one that includes awareness, intention, gratitude, and love from both partners, instead of a relationship where we treat the Divine (or the other) like a genie in a bottle.

Lake Junaluska, North Carolina/Rosemary McMahan

Certainly, we don’t need a chapel in order to commune with Love. Sitting under a tree by the lake will work just as well as waiting at a red light in traffic. Divine Love is all around us, simply waiting to be noticed and received. Yet here was a chapel, dedicated for prayer and worship, closed because things had “gotten better,” and apparently people no longer felt an intense need to pray. Perhaps Covid has gotten better here in the States, but not everywhere, and surely many more needs exist to be lifted up in prayer, along with many thanksgivings. How precious are the opportunities for sitting in the quiet company of God where often words are not even necessary.

I’m very grateful that we visited Lake Junaluska. I felt the presence of the Creator all around us. More importantly, our brief chapel interlude presented me with an opportunity to reflect on my own prayer life and to admit how many times I turn to God in need and then allow God to fade away when things are going well. I would like my heart to be a chapel that is open 24 hours a day, inviting God in, not only in the difficult times, but in the peaceful, as well. Blessings ~ Rosemary 20rosepoet20@gmail.com

Let There Be . . .

May 7, 2021

“In the beginning when God createdthe heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light.” So begins the story of creation in the Judeo-Christian scriptures. In the middle of darkness and chaos, the Creator calls light into being.

As I look at our world today, I see so much darkness—the unending consequences of a global pandemic; the horror in India and in other countries still caught in Covid’s grasp; deep political, ethical, and moral division in the States; a lack of concern for what kind of environment, what kind of creation, we will leave not-so-distant generations; prejudices and biases coming forth in all their ugliness and woundedness, and much more. Often in the face of so many shadows, I can feel hopeless, defeated. After all, what can one person do to change the world so that it becomes as the Creator intended, attuned to Divine Love and abiding within the welcome and compassion of the Creator’s heart? One answer is that the person can imitate the Creator and simply create.

As a poet who paints not by numbers but by words, I believe that art can, indeed, change the world by touching the heart and offering hope. The act of creation can become the light that shines in the darkness, so that when all we can see is darkness, we can turn our eyes toward a poem, a painting, a sculpture, a garden, a beautifully laid table, a piece of woodwork, a quilt, a single yellow rose in a vase and remember where we come from and who we are. Within us is ruach, the ancient breath that blew across the waters and ignited the light and which still blows, kindles, and ignites. We are all creators of some sort, and the world needs us now.

If you are reading this blog, you are either a blogger yourself or a friend or relative. You appreciate words and so writing may be your craft. Then please write. Maybe you paint, or you know the exact corner in which to place a chair so that the light catches it patterns. Then paint and decorate. Perhaps you garden, and your light is found in tending each plant that delights our sight. Thank you. Or you have the skill of cooking, which I do not, but which I greatly appreciate when it is shared. Maybe you are an engineer or doctor or other technical person and your art is turning technology into miracles. I appreciate you. We all have the ability to create because we are made in the image of THE Creator, who created out of nothing but desire and love, who created in order to bring Light into darkness.

So, I encourage you to take the leap of faith and scatter your creative seeds wherever they may land, on whomever they may land. If you are creating, please continue. Production and success are not what matter—only the offerings of beauty, love, and light. ~ Blessings, Rosemary

Promise

Everything you need is promised
in the single leap of faith
to trust the direction of your heart
and commit to it with wonder.

In the single leap of faith
jump into your art with desire
and commit to it with wonder
make vow to the journey of yourself.

Jump into your art with desire
no experience, expertise, or outside voices
make vow to the journey of yourself
as it weaves its way into creation.

No experience, expertise, or outside voices
to snag you or hold you back
trust the direction of your heart
everything you need is promised.

A Time to Keep

April 30, 2021

“A time to keep, and a time to throw away.” Eccl. 3: 6

A few days ago, we entertained a couple in our home for dinner—a couple we had not seen in well over a year due to the pandemic. On the one hand, the experience felt surreal, and on the other, it felt like we had picked up right where we left off, as if the pandemic had been some kind of time warp.

After catching up on our lives over the past thirteen months (not that there was a lot to tell), our friend asked a question. He said, “What it is that you want to keep from this pandemic experience, that you don’t want to lose as we go back to our routines?” I found his question thought-provoking and deserving of reflection. As I have mentioned in a couple of former blogs, I believe that the pandemic gave all of us, the global community, a time to reassess and reconsider how we want to spend our lives and who we want to be, who we want our communities, our nations, our world to be. The four of us shared our various thoughts, and a common thread was a desire to keep a sense of discernment before jumping right back into all those obligations and commitments, to weigh what and who are life-giving and what and who are not, to decide where and with whom we are called to expend energy, and where and with whom we are not. In other words, we have been given the opportunity to decide, with love and wisdom, what time to keep and what time to let go.

After reflecting on the conversation, the well-known passage from Ecclesiastes Chapter Three of the Old Testament came to mind. The Book of Ecclesiastes is considered part of the “Wisdom” tradition of Hebrew Scripture and is thought to have been written sometime between c. 450–200 BCE, over two thousand years ago. The first eight verses state that there is a time and a season for every aspect and experience of human life. Plagues and pandemics and political upheaval were as much a part of life then as they are now, and the author knew something of what he wrote. As he pairs each experience, each time and season, he invites us to discern, to listen with our hearts, to the seasons that we are in and to perhaps even discover a blessing, or at least a reassurance, that there is something to be learned, a gift to be received. Who we are as we exit each season says something about how we lived through it.

We have been in a long and, in parts of the world, continuing season of dying, of weeping, of not touching, of silence, and we are all ready for it to end, but what will we keep without rushing back to a normal that no longer really exists? What has become something unexpectedly precious to us? What is one insight, one observation, one “ah ha!” moment, one touch of the heart, one glimpse of the Divine One, one understanding that gently unfolded for us and has the capacity to make us more loving and our lives more sacred? Those are questions worth our reflection; those are questions that can transform us, and, in turn, transform the world. Blessings to you ~ Rosemary

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.