Taste and See

Sara Miles is one of my absolute favorite writers and theologians. Sara doesn't fit into any box- she is a lesbian, war correspondent, and a radical follower of jesus. I kind of hate that - radical follower of jesus. Can't she tone it down a bit? No and that's what I love about her- she doesn't tone it down- she lives in Mystery and contradictions. She avoids the empty liberal theology of psycho babble that quickly feels like it lacks any real heft and at the same time she is not in relationship with the jesus that popular culture promotes.

I am rereading both of Sara's books in hope to find may way back to some rootedness. My journey has many twists and turns. Right now seems to be a time of movement back to center- finding the space to hold opposites. I have gone deep down in the pool of deconstructionist(for lack of a better word) theology and I find myself- hungry- lacking nourishment. Too much navel gazing is just exhausting. It all becomes about me- what I feel - what I think. I find the road of Mystery calling me home. That space that makes no sense.

My faith community is currently doing a series on remembering. I'm remembering why I have always been drawn to contemplative, liturgical settings- my senses remember. The ebb and flow, year after year; decade after decade- awakens something in me just below the skin- not in my head- deep down in my soul.

I'm not sure what this looks like. I don't have a map or a plan. I have a yearning- a hunger. I'm enjoying giving myself over to learning from someone else's journey. I have no answers. There is an excitement and expectation in this present moment.

Sara ends the prologue in her first book with - taste and see. May it be so!

The Tide Is Moving

When I read back through my very sporadic blogging over the last few years- I realize it follows a windy path that I have been on over the past 5 years -walking away from my faith tradition. For me this was a huge leap- it was leaving my people, my history, my culture. Bob and I both come from families with long traditions in the Episcopal church- our parents and grand parents starting churches, leading churches, working for the Church. Leaving it was huge- it was a break, a wound- it hurt bad.

A couple years in we landed in the absolute perfect spot for weary spiritual travelers- Journey Imperfect Faith Community. We were welcomed like old family members- loved- challenged. We fell in love with this lovely community. Journey took us at our pace. Journey helped me find my voice in worship. I was invited to speak, pray, and create. I was surprised that I enjoyed teaching a Sunday school class or leading prayer. I found my voice.

In the last year, my heart has longed for my roots. My healing has progressed and I felt ready to step back into my tradition. I have been holding this longing for a while. Listening to it but letting it brew and stir. What was I really longing for? Where was I being called?

I feel a new stage brewing- part of me has felt resistant to this next stage. I tend to want things to be permanent. I can't say I'd ever feel fully ready for this next part of my journey. It means that I loose something- not people - I will not loose them- but Ia moment in my life is moving on in some way. It is so clear and vague. The hesitation will no longer hold. The time is now.

I hear Spirit calling me out. I am scared. I am sad. I am eager. I am unsure. I am grateful.

I tend to be a person who likes to work from a map or a plan. I have none.

I am moving - not forward or back. It is not away from anyone or anything. It is simply a fluid journey and the tide has picked up and is pulling me back around full circle.

Being A Mystic

I think I am just a mystic.

mys·ti·cism (mst-szm)

n.

1.

a. Immediate consciousness of the transcendent or ultimate reality or God.

b. The experience of such communion as described by mystics.

2. A belief in the existence of realities beyond perceptual or intellectual apprehension that are central to being and directly accessible by subjective experience.

3. Vague, groundless speculation.

There are a few parts of this definition that really hit for me.

An existence beyond intellectual apprehension:

I find god in an other worldy space that is without words or explanation. It may be in a tree, the deep color of painting. It may be in a fellow traveler or a stranger. It may be within me.

Communion:

Being connected, feeling at one. I find god when I am in a line and I make eye contact with someone else. When my husband glances at me in a crowd. When I hear the ocean.

Vague, Subjective, Groundless:

I have no creed. I can't prove it. My experience is not firm in this world's definition.

I can't say that I ever really fit in a box. I have tried but it never really worked. I have felt god since my earliest memory, yet, it never quite matched any tradition or organization.

It's kind of freeing to think maybe I am just a mystic- vague, groundless, connected, present. I don't have to fit into a box or organization. A mystic only has to be awake.

Table and Cirles Part 2

My friend, Steve Fenech, had a great post about community this morning on Facebook.

It made me think deeper about why the tables and circles had been so transformative for me in the past year.

Most of the circles and tables have been a bit of a rag tag group- people from a variety of walks of life. Not the people I would have imagined hanging with- they are better than what I imagined- because my world is small- it is only the little universe that I know. When I sit with someone who has different life experiences or views or lifestyle- I am pushed- and in being pushed- I open and it is in that spot that Mystery comes in and creates something new and beautiful that I never imagined.

Truth is in a number of circles or tables in the last year- conflict has been present. I hate conflict. I typically run from it. It makes me nervous- I fear everything is going to fall apart and basically, I will be all alone.

Interestingly, staying with conflict has been amazingly beautiful- again I am pushed and stretched - and I am opened. What I notice is that tables and circles make it hard to stay in a defensive posture. Instead we always end up back at stories- sharing- finding convergence. This is Mystery unfolding in a way that changes everything- not on my agenda- not with any agenda- just with Love.

Tables and Circles

I have been thinking a great deal about faith and community. The image that keeps coming up for me are "gatherings"- sitting close together with others for a meal, to collage, to share stories. Gatherings seem to be where I am finding god. Listening, sharing, being on equal ground. I think back to so many holy moments over the last year- few of them happened in a "faith setting".

The most recent was a dinner party we held for friends from our fred family and few others. The purpose was to remember our friend, David. We chatted, drank wine and gathered for a cajan feast. As we ate, we shared stories about David and the past year. There were tears but there was actually more laughter. It was a rag tag group and yet as the evening flowed we had shared "communion".

Another incident, was with a friend- Bob and I had met her at Starbucks to chat church business but instead we ended up talking about life- real life- god showed up and synergy unfolded- we shared "communion".

A group of friends have been coming over Thursday mornings to collage. We talk and share as we cut out images and we discuss what comes up for us from the images. We share "communion".

Tables and circles- these are the places where I am meeting god - the god in me and the god in others- and that great mystery that comes in and creates beauty out of ordinary events.

I have been in discernment for a while about my faith- faith communities. At times, I really miss my tradition and anglican roots. Sometimes, I get tired of talking heads and planned out worship. For a while, I thought I was just missing liturgy. But then, we visited a couple of liturgical churches and the words kind of freaked me out. After being away from them- I realized that I really didn't believe most of the words. Also, the liturgy felt like another form of being talked at.

Tables and circles- no leaders- no followers- just fellow travelers sharing life. This is the space where I'm sitting right now. The rest just doesn't stir me.