What’s all the Pomotion?

Since I joined the Catholic Church ten years ago, I haven’t kept up much with the happenings in the Protestant world. But several weeks ago, I noticed that my friends Ron » and Bob » had several identical links on their blogs, to places like theOOZE », Mars Hill », and Solomon’s Porch ». This intrigued me, because not only do they not know each other, they feel very differenly about many things. So I checked out their links, and soon discovered the wave of post-modern or “poMo” Christianity, also known as Emergent, emerging church, post-Protestantism, post-foundationalism, and many other names which are meant to be as open as possble. (I tend to capitalize the M, to keep “pomo” from looking like “porno!”)

This is may be something big. Very big. I’ve visited dozens of poMo sites, and have also been visiting Ron’s church, Symphonic », regularly. I’ve also read Brian McLaren’s » A Generous Orthodoxy, and last week, I finished his two dialogue novels, A New Kind of Christian, and The Story We Find Ourselves In. (The final book of the set, The Last Word… and the Word after That, is to be released on Good Friday.) I’m impressed. I feel that Brian is essentially doing for Protestants what Matthew Fox tried to do for Catholics about 20 years ago.

One difference, however, is that McLaren is writing to a much broader, and generally more conservative audience, and is much more careful with words. (Fox was actually booted from the Dominican order for not being careful enough with his words.) In McLaren’s case, it’s even more critical, because in conservative Protestant circles, words tend to be interpreted as narrowly as possible. Christian can sometimes mean “someone who interprets the Bible like my pastor does.”

One of the basic ideas of the emerging church is that just as humanity moved from the ancient world to the medieval world in the 6th century, and the Middle Ages yielded to the modern world in 16th century, in the 20th-21st centuries, we are moving into the post-modern age. What that means is uncertain, except that modern institutions (including the modern conception of church), built in the modern age to serve the modern world, are no longer working that well and will soon be irrelevant to post-modern society.

This was just the sort of stuff I was looking for in my church environments about 15 years ago, but it simply wasn’t there then. In short, I’m thrilled about the potential of the emergent movement (though Emergent » says don’t call it a movement). However, I use the word “potential” deliberately. Some self-described poMo churches seem to be simply changing matters of style, creating “groovy” new ways to worship and evangelize, like the Jesus movement did in the 60s and 70s, while keeping a truncated theology that still sees getting people “saved” as the end of the road. Others have a sense that this really calls everything into question–and are open to the possibility that we have grossly misunderstood what Jesus’ Good News is all about–something that I as a mystic, strongly believe to be the case.

I haven’t really heard the emergent conversation address theosis or awakening yet. Because of this, I wonder if poMo Christianity might run the risk of looking for the answer, without finding it. Still, how wonderful it is to see people actually looking!

St. Patrick of Ireland

Below are two versions of the stunning poem known variously as “The Breastplate” or “Lorica” or “The Deer’s Cry,” which is ascribed to him:

This is the traditional text:

The Breastplate of St. Patrick

I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
through belief in the Threeness,
through confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation.

I arise today through the strength of Christ with His Baptism,
through the strength of His Crucifixion with His Burial
through the strength of His Resurrection with His Ascension,
through the strength of His descent for the Judgment of Doom.

I arise today through the strength of the love of Cherubim
in obedience of Angels, in the service of the Archangels,
in hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
in prayers of Patriarchs, in predictions of Prophets,
in preachings of Apostles, in faiths of Confessors,
in innocence of Holy Virgins, in deeds of righteous men.

I arise today, through the strength of Heaven:
light of Sun, brilliance of Moon, splendour of Fire,
speed of Lightning, swiftness of Wind, depth of Sea,
stability of Earth, firmness of Rock.

I arise today, through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me, God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me, God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me, God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me, God’s shield to protect me,
God’s host to secure me:
against snares of devils, against temptations of vices,
against inclinations of nature, against everyone who
shall wish me ill, afar and anear, alone and in a crowd.

I summon today all these powers between me (and these evils):
against every cruel and merciless power that may oppose
my body and my soul,
against incantations of false prophets,
against black laws of heathenry,
against false laws of heretics, against craft of idolatry,
against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
against every knowledge that endangers man’s body and soul.

Christ to protect me today
against poison, against burning, against drowning,
against wounding, so that there may come abundance of reward.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ in breadth, Christ in length, Christ in height,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
through belief in the Threeness,
through confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation.
Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of the Lord.

It has been beautifully shaped into this hymn by Cecil F. Alexander:

I Bind Unto Myself Today

I bind unto myself today the strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same, the Three in One, and One in Three.

I bind this day to me forever, by power of faith, Christ’s Incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan River; His death on the cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spiced tomb; His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom: I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power of the great love of the Cherubim;
The sweet “Well done” in judgement; the service of the Seraphim;
Confessors’ faith, apostles’ word, the patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls;
All good deed done unto the Lord, And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today the virtues of the starlit heav’n,
The glorious sun’s life-giving ray; the whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free; the whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks;
The stable earth; the deep salt sea, around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today the power of God to hold and lead.
His eye to watch, his might to stay, His ear to hearken to my need;
The wisdom of my God to teach, His hand to guide, His shield to ward;
The word of God to give me speech, His heavenly host to be my guard.

Christ be within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name, the strong Name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same, the Three in One and One in Three.
Of whom all nature hath creation; Eternal father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation, salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Amen.

Also see Patrick’s autobiography, The Confession of St. Patrick, and the Wikipedia article on Patrick.

Prayer and Sweat

Of course, besides recharging throughout the day and practicing “city Zen,” those more intense and concentrated times of refreshment are also vital. I went to a “prayer lodge” meeting on Saturday, led by a Native American shaman, Rev. Lakotahasie Frazier.

Hasie, as she is known to her friends, has adapted the traditional sweat lodge ceremony slightly for Westerners, and so that men and women can participate together. That said, its substance is still the same: prayer and sweat. It strikes me, that we’re creatures of prayer and sweat, spirit and matter.

Catholic spirituality is built upon the principle of sacramentality, the awareness that God is within, and working through the material of the world. The idea behind the sweat lodge is to return the favor to God–to give substance to our prayers, to bind them up with tobacco in bundles, to breathe them in through a pipe, to sweat our prayers as a purification and offering to God.

I think something that makes contemporary city life so sick is the lack of earthiness and loss of contact with nature. During the course of a day, how many things do we see, really see that are not man-made? What is God-made is largely obscured by buildings, walls, floors and doors. But much more is obscured by our concepts and perceptions.

I don’t often see my co-workers as gods and goddesses, images of the One. Something about the lodge helps me see a bit more clearly when I return to work.

City Zen Citizen

My teacher made the observation that citizen can be divided into city Zen. He stressed the importance of being able to find stillness within, not just in the special environments and times we occasionally set aside for that, such as retreats, but whenever we can in the everyday, workaday world.

Within the course of any given day, we are often subtly drained by the tides of negativity, wants, and fears, and we tend to regard this broken, depleted state as “normal.”

Far from being selfish, “city Zen” is necessary for being a true citizen of the Kingdom, anchored in truth, unswayed by circumstances, resentment, and gossip. It’s necessary to have peace to share peace, it’s necessary to have love to give love. It’s necessary to drink the living water to have abundant life that can be shared, or even to survive yourself.

I love this story from the Gospel of Thomas:

Jesus said: “Look at that man. He’s running circles trying to catch that lamb.”
His disciples said: “Yes, he’s going to kill it and eat it.”
Jesus said: “and of course, he can’t eat it until he catches it and kills it. . . You too, must find your place of repose, or else you will also be caught and devoured.”

Quick thought on fear

Since fear is usually irrational, you can’t help someone overcome their fear by reason. The way is to go with them into the fearful place or situation.

That is what Christ does, that is what bodhisattvas do.

Poems without words

My teacher told me to enter meditation as though writing a poem without words. That delighted me, because I’ve often sensed that what I write is not the actual poem, the words are just markers for the indescribable feeling or thought.

The Singing Sings the Singer

I sing songs of God
or so it seems to me.
Words and tunes and names have changed,
or so it seems to you.
Sunday-school rhymes, speaking in tongues,
Gregorian chants, Buddhist mantras,
and the words I string because I must.
 
I take what words I find
and use them though they're useless.
It's building rafts of pebbles,
and somehow sailing anyway.
 
Don't listen to the words,
Don't listen to the notes.
Before the words--
This!
Before the notes--each note--
This!
Do you see it?
Can you feel it?
It's all I am, and all you are.
 When my bones have turned to dust,
and the oceans sink in sand,
still This!
 
Just listen to the Singing
from which we are sung.

Nevertheless, if you want to share, words become unavoidable!

God, grace, Greece, ganglia, and tacos

While I was eating lunch at Taco Bell today, I began thinking about the custom of saying grace. It’s a wonderful custom, meant to bring divine awareness and blessing into the world, which is something very useful. It seems to me that the trend is just the opposite–for the world to invade sacred space. I’ve seen churches where no one thinks about saying grace even in their main fellowship meals.

But as I was eating my taco, savoring its taste, (and no, I didn’t say grace, either) I realized that the “blessings” we use are essentially ego-centric. The purpose of saying grace is to bless *our* food, *our* nourishment, *our* fellowship, yada, yada, yada. It not only reinforces the idea that God is “there”, but it very much reinforces the idea that “we” are here and “we” are important.

The Jewish idea of saying grace is far different–every traditional Jewish blessing begins, “Barukh Atah, Adonai, Eloheynu Melekh haOlam…” which means, *blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, King of the Universe…” Blessings are directed to God, not funneled down upon ourselves. Besides blessings at meals, there are traditional blessings to God for almost every conceivable activity.

I thought briefly about how almost everything in pagan Greece was dedicated
to the gods–the performances of the tragedies and comedies of Greek theater were considered acts of worship, offerings to the gods, no matter how ribald, silly, or tragic, and going to the theater **was** going to church. Similarly, the Olympic Games were held to honor the gods–the festival of exploring the limits of the human body was an offering of sweat and celebration for the enjoyment of the divine Olympians.

Both Greek polytheism and Jewish monotheism had the idea that awareness of the divine should permeate all human life and activity.

I’m a panentheist–I believe that God both permeates and inconceivably transcends the Universe, or to put it another way, that God is the Ground of Being, and everything that has being, arises from this unmanifested Source. The Bible says we are the Body of Christ. We are his hands and feet, and everything else–although we do not believe it.

I wondered if instead asking God to bless my food for me, it might be more fitting for me to consciously dedicate all my actions to God, who is enjoying them not on Mount Olympus, but right here, in this body. When eating a taco, I’m his mouth, teeth, tongue and taste buds–I am the vehicle through which God enjoys salsa. If I drive home, I’m the vehicle through which God enjoys my vehicle. When I post an entry here, God enjoys blogging like a fool who thinks he knows something about God!

If I forgive someone, I’m the conduit of divine forgiveness. Jesus said, “if you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven, and if you do not forgive them, they aren’t” (Jn 20.23). Amazing the agony we’ve put into “interpreting” something so simple that our response to it should be “Duh!” (Or when we realize the privilege, “Wow!” Or “Frimmin’!“) God forgives when Jesus proclaims forgiveness. Or when any of us do. And Jesus said we are to follow him and realize the same union with the Father he had (Jn 17.22).

God created the Universe for his own enjoyment, and the Eternal One lives in space-time through us. What if this awareness–that God does through us, lives through us, works through us, was really the guiding prinicple of our lives?

How do we want God to work, to be? Do that. Do you want God to forgive? then forgive. Should Christ be respectable? St. Paul said that we shouldn’t unite his “members” with prostitutes. (1 Cor 6.15) Yep, we are *those* parts, too.

What if we’re the ganglia and nerves of God–the conduits of spiritual awareness and divine action here in the Matrix? What if we could get rid of the worry of being our “selves” and just be the embodied energy of God in the world? What if I could die to the burden of maintaining my “self” and become truly alive, a living space for God to be in?

Halfway through my taco, I offered its taste to the Infinite. He was enjoying it already.

Snapshot

Sometimes when I let days go by between posts, it’s because I don’t know what to write about. Often this isn’t because my spiritual life is dry (though sometimes it is), but sometimes it’s because I don’t know where to begin.

Here’s as close a snapshot as what I can give you what’s been going on in my life the last month or so, the stuff I usually don’t blog about.

* Since I began studying Zen, I haven’t gone to church nearly as much, but I still attend my parish » and Catholic Campus Ministry » at ODU.
* I’ve become *very* aware of God’s presence again.
* Kundalini effects have been very strong. It feels good for the most part, but there are more headaches.
* I’ve been hanging out with evangelicals for the first time in ages, at a fledging post-modern or “post-Protestant »” church called Symphonic.
* You’ve got to love a church that doesn’t have a noun in its name. In Minnesota, there’s a church named “Bluer. »” (Maybe they should buy a heater!)
* I like it, though I really don’t know why I’m there!
* Among other things, it’s a good place to see Korean horror films ».
* I’ve been corresponding with a seeker who came across my site last month.
* He’s much more “awake” than I am. Yet he’s asking me questions, when I feel I should be asking him.
* The last time he emailed me, I got the email while watching one of my favorite TV shows. His name is the same as that of the main character on that show.
* My teacher is telling me that nothing is coincidence.
* I giggle *a lot* in meetings with my teacher.
* Had a great weekend catching up with two of my friends, although if any of you is thinking of seeing “Son of the Mask,” **don’t.**
* Brewing ginger ale again, and this time, I’ve got *whey.* (Thanks, Katherine!)
* I’m starting to believe that nothing is coincidence.
* Spent a lot of time Web-surfing. God is doing some very interesting things in a lot of places. Impressed by the potential of the “post-modern” movement.
* I feel amazed and blessed and dizzy by just being alive here on Februrary 21, 2005.

Time Travel

I sometimes think of meditation / contemplative prayer as a kind of time travel–leaving the hustle and madness of the 21st century, and going back to the origin, back to when God walked with man in the Garden of the heart. But of course, it’s not going “back” at all, but rather stopping time in a sense–not in the external world of course, but as we listen to God in the deep silence at the center of the soul, time stops internally. In that freedom from time, we meet God, who is eternal, outside of time.

So from the noise of our minds we go back to stillness, and from the noise of our wants, anxieties and ideas, we sink into that stillness, and there, just rest and “be still, and know God.”

It’s strange that practicing this rest for our souls is so difficult. Our bodies demand this deep rest, without thought, emotion, or worry. Any more than a few days without sleep can kill.

Similarly, our spirits suffer just as much without consciously resting in this stillness in which God calls us to meet him. But we can survive (so it seems) without it, so we ignore it.