#Metoo - part 1

Why don’t girls just tell guys to fuck off?

It had to happen.

I had to talk about women and sexual assault/ harassment.  There's so much to be said and it's hard to know where to begin so this will be a multi-part post.  These are all just things I've thought about or things that have made me think.  They are based on conversations I've had with men, with women, podcasts I've listened to, echoes of my past, and books I've read.  Names have been changed

#1  Why don’t girls just tell guys to fuck off?

Jim is a single, never-been-married, no kids guy.  Jim is artistic and free-spirited.  He is progressive on most social issues.  He votes democrat and is pretty passionate politically. He's nice looking, athletic, and popular with the ladies.  Jim and I had a long conversation about all the celebrities that were being outed. Part of what Jim said was the following:

"I just don’t get it.  When I was in college, and we were out at the bars, I would grab girl’s asses.  They liked it.  Usually, if I grabbed a girl’s ass, we would end up making out.  Lots of times she would go home with me.   I don’t get why, if a girl doesn’t like it she doesn’t just tell the guy to fuck off."

My reply was this, "Jim, imagine you are in a bar, and a guy who outweighs you by 100 pounds grabs your ass.  You know your odds of being sexually assaulted is 1 in 2.  Do you take the risk that this guy is or is not the type of guy that would assault you?  Do you risk pissing this guy off?  Do you take the risk he might follow you out to your car later and assault you because you’ve pissed him off?  Do you tell this guy to fuck off?"

Jim actually said yes to my question which I found interesting.  My daughters would probably tell the guy to fuck off too.  More power to them....but I wouldn’t.

I just ignore the guy. 

Some girls smile to try to avoid provoking the guy.

Apparently, according to Jim's account of his college days, some girls end up making out with the ass-grabber.  I suspect these are girls who had been admiring Jim for a while and hoping to get noticed.  Who knows?  I can’t speak for them, but I tried to explain to Jim that culture has shifted.  Just because things were once ignored, or even accepted, doesn’t mean they should continue to be.  We can think of a million examples of this:  folks didn’t used to think anything of a man hitting his wife, or of separate drinking fountains for persons of color.  We used to have laws against birth control, and we didn’t have laws against drunk driving.  You get the point.   Culture evolves and changes, often for the better.  Grabbing someone’s ass without their consent just isn’t OK.  It never was, but many just weren’t tuned into it.   Sure, we should have been responding with a “fuck-off” all along.  But we didn’t and many times we still don’t.   And fundamentally, it's not the responsibility of the victim to correct the problem.  

Because we are still afraid. 

It made me think of my dog Clyde.  The other day he was sniffing and smelling at his dog-buddy Bert’s dog bed and then humping it. You see, Bert used to let Clyde hump him all the time.  I have no idea if Bert allowed the humping because Bert thought it was good fun, or if it was because Bert was afraid of Clyde.  Clyde is a 110 lb dog.  He outweighs Bert by 40 pounds and is pretty intimidating.  Clyde has always been the alpha and Bert has always submitted. But sometime during the past year, Bert has decided he’s had enough.  When Clyde tries to hump him, Bert goes ape crazy.  In his dog-way, Bert is telling Clyde to just fuck off.   Poor Clyde is understandably confused.  Bert always seemed to like the humping-play before.  It was all in good fun from Clyde’s perspective.   And now things have changed and Clyde has accepted that.  Bert has stopped giving his consent.   So now, Clyde just humps the bed.

Post script:  I was talking to my daughter the other night about this post.   She told me this story.  She was walking down the street one day and the wind caught her skirt.  A guy on the street saw it and walked past her and told her that was "hot" or "sexy" or something like that.   Ordinarily, she will tell a guy to fuck off.  My daughters are feisty.  But she didn't.  She froze.  I asked her why.  She said it was because she actually felt threatened that day on that street by that guy.   She said that usually when she tells someone to fuck off, she feels safe to do so.  She is surrounded by people, in public or similar.  In this situation she was alone...... and felt threatened.    

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The Wolf

"Shhh - it's the wolf!"

The Wolf is my daughter’s spirit animal and I don't really mean a tongue-in-cheek spirit animal.  That may sound a little "woo-woo", I mean who actually has a spirit animal?   But for real, when she was less than two years old, she used to “see” an unseen wolf around our house.   It was completely real to her.  When the wolf visited, she would freeze in her tracks and shush everyone in the room, quietly pointing to the unseen wolf.  She would quietly whisper her warning to us all, “SHHHH, it’s the wolf!!!”  

I’m not gonna lie, it was a little creepy – and a lot funny.  We had to work hard to be quiet around the wolf.  We wanted to giggle, or tell her there was no wolf.   But instead, we played along, frozen in our tracks and silent until the wolf went on his way. (I guess it was a he, I never really asked).

She’s 29 years old now and still has a thing about wolves.  She feels some kind of interesting and special kindred connection with them.  Whenever wolf stuff pops up in her life (I’m not totally sure how this happens), she takes it as a sign that there is something she’s supposed to stop, be quiet and listen to.   And you know what?  It works. 

She sent me an article the other day about the wolves that were re-introduced into Yellowstone National Park.  It’s a story many people are familiar with, and it’s a good one.  You probably know the story: when the wolves were re-introduced, as you’d imagine, they began to prey upon deer.  The deer moved to different areas and as a result entire new habitats began to grow, since the deer were not grazing in those areas.  Both plants and animals began to reappear in these habitats.  One of the most unexpected aspects to the entire ecosystem shift was that because trees began to grow in new areas, the rivers were re-routed.  Here’s a great little film on the whole phenomenon. 

https://stemjobs.com/wolves-change-rivers/

The article got me thinking about good and evil.   If I were a deer, I would pretty much think those wolves were evil.  They brought me nothing but fear, predation and death.  And from where the deer sit, that’s true.  But from the trees, and the mice, and the rabbits, and the bird’s perspective, the wolves were a good thing, a life-bringing thing.  And from the river’s perspective, the wolves were neither good nor bad, but the entire course of the river’s life was changed in ways the river had no awareness of

--because of the wolf. 

That’s kind of how it is in life.  There is no way to stand far enough away from a thing to know for sure if it is entirely good or entirely evil, or a little of both.  There is no way for sure to know if it is changing the entire course of your life. 

All you can do is participate in the unfolding drama.  Go along for the ride.  And maybe sometimes get really quiet and see if you can see the wolf. 

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May it be unto me as you have said

We are the third incarnation of the Christ.

My life has been filled with chaos of various kinds.  This is a great irony to me, since all I ever wanted was peace.   As a child, I just liked to be left alone so I could stay in my room and read a book.  As a teen, I played it safe.  I made choices that were calculated to avoid regret.  As an adult, I’ve taken few risks.  I like things quiet, calm, predictable.  But instead, chaos has surrounded me – over and over. 

Many times I have raged against this.  I’ve asked the proverbial “WHY?!?”  Over the years, I have spent countless moments screaming in my head (and sometimes out loud) to whomever would listen, “I’ve made choices in my life that were supposed to result in peace, WHY, WHY, WHY so much chaos!!!!?????”  I have found it hard to just accept what comes my way.   I don’t surrender well. 

I fight.  I fix.  I push through.  I don’t surrender. 

And so, my life has been visited and re-visited with chaos…..so I can learn surrender. 

Sometimes when I’m stuck in a pattern of behavior or thinking, I adopt a mantra - just something I recite to myself to re-direct my thought pattern.  Several years ago, I was particularly stuck in anger over the chaos.  Life just wasn’t going according to my agenda and I couldn’t find peace and acceptance.   So, I chose a mantra.  I chose the words that Mary the mother of Jesus said when the angel told her she was going to be impregnated by God, “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be unto me as you have said.” 

I mean, think about it.  You’re this 13 or 14 year old just minding your own business waiting to marry your betrothed Joseph and an angel appears to you and tells you, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.  So the holy one to be born will be called, the Son of God.”  

What?? 

This is going to put a serious kink in your plans.  People will gossip about you.  Joseph might not even marry you if he finds out your pregnant.  You didn’t ask for this kind of chaos, and your response is, “OK, do whatever you want, I’m your servant” ?     This seemed like a pretty extreme story about surrender, so I adopted the mantra.  That year, every time I felt rage, or bitterness rising up, I would simply say, “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be unto me as you have said.”  It was a powerful move in the journey of accepting what occurs in life and just taking it in without judgement or anger. 

It calmed me. 

Today, I was thinking back on the story that Mantra came from and it came to me in a whole different way. 

Mary was being asked to open up her body and allow the Christ to be incarnated in her, and she surrendered to it.  I reflected on how my life story is about me being penetrated by life circumstances and being opened up so that the Christ can be incarnated in me as well. 

Incarnating the Christ spirit inside my own body. 

So that my body becomes the very body of the Christ spirit in this world. 

The Bible tells us three ways the Christ spirit was incarnated (isn't it fun that it's three?):

First: in creation “Through him all things were made ……In him was life.”   Think about it, the creation is the first expression of the Christ.  The Christ spirit is in every part of creation.  If that doesn’t make you an environmentalist, nothing will.    

Second: through the life of Jesus.  This is the one we are taught about in church.  We are taught the story like the birth and life of Jesus was the only incarnation of the Christ.  But it wasn’t. 

Third: through us.  We are the third incarnation of the Christ.  His body here on earth.  And in order to actually be that, we have to surrender and open ourselves up to be penetrated by the spirit of love and to become the container, the womb and the birther of the same creative, loving, healing force that we see in the first incarnation, and the second….

“I am the Lord’s servant, may it be unto me as you have said.”

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Soils

“For me, the word “God” means “reality”.  Reality is God, because it rules.”

It’s spring and I’ve just spent the weekend composting my garden and planting.  So it seems the right time to post about soils. 

“A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. Whoever has ears, let them hear.”

This parable is from the book of Matthew in the Bible.  It is explained later by Jesus and he says that the seed that falls on the different soils is the word of God.  I was always taught to hear “the word” as the “scriptures” or the “bible”.  But the “word” in the original text is “logos” – logic.

The word

The logos

The logic of God

God’s logic is not what we would expect.  Down is up and up is down.  We love our enemies.  The meek inherit the earth.  Those things we think are bad are actually good – or vice versa. 

If God brings a reality into my life that I don’t like – I may use my logic to judge it as a “bad” reality.  I may reject this and fight, struggle, and rage to change this reality for a different one.  Believe me, I've spent hours, days, weeks, years doing just that.  But God has given me the very reality I am struggling to change.  Or maybe God IS the very reality I'm struggling against.  His logic has said, “this is the story I am giving you right now.  This is my logic about how your life will go.”  If I reject this logic, this word – I am the path (the hard soil). If I accept his logic, but let the cares of my life (my busy-ness, my worries and concerns) distract me from really taking it IN and experiencing it and learning from it, I am the rocky soil or the thorny soil.  In all cases, whether path, rocky or thorny, what little fruit might have sprung from reality, will be unrealized. 

In her book, “Loving what is” Byron Katie states:

“For me, the word “God” means “reality”.  Reality is God, because it rules.”

She does a beautiful job describing the good soil:

“I am a lover of what is, not because I’m a spiritual person, but because it hurts when I argue with reality. We can know that reality is good just as it is, because when we argue with it, we experience tension and frustration. We don’t feel natural or balanced. When we stop opposing reality, action becomes simple, fluid, kind, and fearless.” 
 

When I planted my garden this weekend, I turned compost into the soil.  I want the soil to be moist and full of organic matter so it will hold water and nurture the seeds I plant.

In my life, when I take in reality – the word – the logos - and let it sit there – like a seed in good soil, when I hold it inside, and tend to it ….

Something will grow.  

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The unredeemed

I was trying to redeem something

In my first marriage, it was bad for years before I left.  Sometimes I wonder why I stayed as long as I did.  I stayed for a lot of reasons:  love – I married young to my first love; religious legalism - I didn’t have “scriptural” grounds for divorce; obligation; sheer stubbornness; and at least in part....

 I was trying to redeem something. 

I married young - way too young.  I was eighteen and he was twenty.  People tried to talk us out of it.  People tried to tell me we were too young.  People tried to tell me he was too damaged.  People tried to tell me I’d damage him further.  People tried to tell me if he really loved me, he’d wait for me until I was older. 

I didn’t listen - did I mention I was stubborn?

He was my first real passion.  We were socked into religious legalism and fundamentalism.  We had the fanaticism of youth.  We teamed up and looked out at the world with through us-vs-them glasses.  What did the world know about our love?  What did those non-committed, lukewarm, so-called Christians know about commitment and real, true, sold-out Christianity?  It was better to marry than to burn with passion.....so we did.

I knew pretty soon afterward it had been a mistake.

I set out to fix it.

I knew I could.

Save it.  

Make it right. 

Redeem it.

This redemption would prove I had not made a mistake.  It would allow me to live with the consequences of my choice (you know - “you made your bed, so now lie in it”).  It would restore my belief I could heal this brilliant and broken soul I loved and had married. 

After years went by, I needed to redeem the tremendous investment of time and effort that I had put into it all. 

I had poured my whole life into this relationship.  I had grown up with this person.  I had been through creating children with this person.  I had poured all my hopes and dreams into the marriage and our family.  I had lost my very self.  I definitely had to redeem that. 

Sixteen years went by, and still ……..I had redeemed nothing. 

Then, as you might be able to predict, I had the "religious excuse” to leave  - adultery.   But it still it took me two years to decide to leave.  

How could I leave it unredeemed?  All that effort?  All those years? My very self? 

Two years later when it was all over I learned the truth of this:

 “Whoever tries to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will save it”

In trying to “save” and “redeem” something, I lost it anyway.  And I lost myself in the process. 

We all do it.  We spent countless years and dollars on a degree, so we slog away at a job we hate.  We spent lots of money on a car or a house that we really can’t afford, so we enslave ourselves to those payments and maintenance to redeem that investment.  We stay with a church or a charitable endeavor that we have lost passion for, because we gave years of our lives to that cause and we wouldn’t know how to create meaning in our lives without it. We took a hard stand on a moral or social position, so we maintain it to save face even though we don’t believe it anymore. 

We waste our lives trying to save it all – the money, the investment, the job, the pride. 

But… maybe….we just can’t do it.  We just can’t save it, or them, or us, or anything. 

Throw in the towel.

Throw away the oars.

Let it go. 

Leave it unredeemed.

We might just find redemption.

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Jargon

An acquaintance of mine recently remarked on the fact that he was having difficulty approaching a conversation with some family members who were concerned about the direction his life was taking.  They were “praying for him”.   He was put off by their “Christianese” (as he called it).  To him, it didn’t feel like a comforting or caring sentiment, but more like an accusation. 

These family members may have intended their sentiment “I’ll be praying for you” to sound sweet and caring.  But it felt like an affront. It felt condescending and exclusionary. I know nothing about their intent, maybe they truly loved and cared for him, maybe they felt superior and self-righteous.  Who knows?  They obviously felt he needed praying-for, which led him to feel judged, not loved.   “I’ll be praying for you” did not express caring as they may have hoped, but rather it set up an “us” vs. “you” dynamic.

I think this was in part due to the “Christianese”. 

The jargon.

Jargon very quickly and naturally becomes a part of the persona we develop without  even thinking about it.   

Jargon does two things: 

1. It binds together.  It identifies us as a group. We all speak this way/use this lingo, therefore we are all part of this group.

2. It separates. You do not speak this way, or understand this lingo, therefore you are NOT a part of this group.

And because it serves as a means of separating groups, it becomes its own type of violence in communication – regardless of intent.

And whether we admit it or not, that subtle act of violence makes us feel good.  It contributes to a sense of belonging, special-ness, or superiority of some type.  Perhaps it means we are more spiritual, more hip, more educated, tougher, younger.   

It’s power. 

We participate in our jargon to demonstrate we are part of the "in group". And we use it to identify who is part of our group and who we can exclude as the "out group"

It’s hard not to slip into your jargon.  I kind of love it when one of my Canadian-isms slips out.  I like my Canadian past and like being identified with it.  It makes me feel unique.  I also like to use terms like “PRN” and “QD” when I’m in doctor’s offices, so they will take me more seriously.   I hate business jargon, probably because I don’t really identify with my job and don’t want to be identified as one of those “corporate types”.   But I work with many who love the corporate jargon.  They love to “drill down” and “take a deep dive”. Biologists love to drop an “aptosis” or an “eutrophication” out there.  Bible scholars love their exegesis and hermeneutics and philosophers love to discuss epistemological and ontological matters.    

Religious jargon

Teen jargon

Academic jargon

Medical jargon

Intellectual jargon

Political jargon

Liberal jargon

Conservative jargon

It builds walls.   

If words exist:

to communicate,

to bring people together,

to build bridges…

Then the goal should be to make them as relate-able as possible.

Easily understood. 

Inclusive.

 Non-violent.

Words matter.

Not only is this true for "those Christians who use that Christianese" but also for intellectuals who use their big words, for adults when they speak to kids, for biologists when they speak to non-biologists, for persons from one country when they speak to persons from another, for doctors when they speak to patients...

Word.  ;)

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Mercy not sacrifice

  "But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice'" 

 When I first latched onto this as my favorite verse, it was because Jesus starts the sentence by saying “but go and learn what this means.”   This implies that we don’t know, and we won’t know, and that we will have to spend some time figuring it out.  I like a good challenge.

 And I've found that it's the truth.   I don't know and I’m still trying to figure it out. 

Amongst followers of Jesus, and socially conscious persons, and in-general-do-gooder-types, there is this pervasive sense that if we are not sacrificing, we are failing in some fundamental way.  For the Jesus-types, we are not “picking up our cross daily”.  For the others we are not practicing a high enough level of social consciousness and should be sacrificing more for the cause. 

 But maybe we've got that all wrong. 

We must have made it into something it's not because Jesus is saying he does NOT desire sacrifice. Therefore:

Sacrifice is NOT what “picking up your cross” means. 

Sacrifice is NOT what following Jesus means. 

 Then what IS IT? 

 Mercy

 Sacrifice is hard sometimes, but it’s not nearly as hard as mercy.   I can make a sacrifice even when my heart’s not in it and I don’t want to.  I can make a sacrifice simply out of obligation or guilt or legalism.  I can make a sacrifice through gritted teeth and clenched fists.  I can make a sacrifice for recognition, or glory or honor.

But mercy. Mercy cuts through a lot of bullshit.   Try summoning up mercy by sheer willpower, through a clenched fist or gritted teeth, or simply because it’s the “right” thing to do.   

Your heart has to actually be in mercy. 

You kind of have to work through stuff in your own heart to get to mercy. 

To live mercy, you have to know what you feel, what you’re angry about, and what you want.   

 When I was 28 a therapist told me to spend two weeks doing nothing out of obligation, but doing only those things I WANTED to do.  Everyone should do this exercise -maybe periodically throughout their lives.  It sounds selfish, but it was transformational.  (Keep in mind this happened to me 25 years ago, so I'm not kidding when I said that I'm still trying to figure out mercy not sacrifice).

 At first this "do what you want" thing is just a free-for-all in self-indulgence and it’s kind of fun when you have been given permission by a mental health professional. 

 After a time, you begin to realize that many of the things you are not doing because you thought you didn’t like doing them, you actually WANT to do after all.  You also realize many things you were fantasizing about doing, you actually don’t want to do. 

In a nutshell, by practicing a time of grace, you learn your truth in ways that you will never learn it when obligation and legalism are in play. 

 You can even just play the game in your head.  In some ways it’s what we are doing when we think about what we’d do if we won the lottery.  We are playing a thought experiment with Grace.  If there were no financial limitations to my life – who would I be?  What would my values be?     It’s a great exercise in self-awareness. 

 Let yourself play out grace fantasies and see what you learn.   Go shopping and tell yourself you have all the money in the world and can buy anything you want.   What do you observe about what you really want if all limitations are removed?   Imagine yourself just walking away from the situation that you feel trapped in right now.  What do you observe about that feeling of leaving it?  Imagine getting the thing you fantasize about -the house, the car, the girl, the guy, the sex, the food, the body, the vacation, the alcohol, the drugs, whatever; play the fantasy out all the way.  Is it what you really want? 

 Grace uncovers truth.

 Truth is the only way we can get to mercy.  

 Obligation and sacrifice can blind us so that we don’t know what we feel, what we want, or who we are.  We can only see what “should” be done, or what “must” be done.  We can only see the sacrifice that is needed. 

 We can give to someone that we hate, that we are angry with, or that we feel nothing for and still feel good about ourselves. 

 “Therefore if you are offering your gift and remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar.  First go and be reconciled to them, then come and offer your gift.”

 First mercy. 

 Then sacrifice. 

 A friend of mine recently left a situation where she was ministering to people in the inner city.  She felt bad about “abandoning” those people who needed her. 

 But, perhaps when we give to people out of a sense of sacrifice and obligation – perhaps this is when we have truly abandoned them.  The connection and intimacy is gone.  They are reduced to objects and recipients.

 You know how it feels when you are the recipient of someone's sacrifice?  They roll their eyes, or sigh heavily? You want to just shout out, “forget it!!  I’ll do it myself!!  Don’t put yourself out!!!” 

 You know how it feels with that person who is always giving, giving, giving and loves being the martyr?

 You know how it feels in bed, when sex is given out of obligation?

 You feel empty. 

 Disconnected

Objectified. 

Abandoned. 

Abandoned by the passions of the giver. 

 Maybe this is why children stay away from the put-upon parent.  Maybe this is why couples stop working as a team because it’s just not worth having to ask and getting the feeling you are asking too much.   Maybe that is why long-term marriages grow cold.  Not because they are bored with each other and need more adventure and playfulness in the bedroom, but because they have adopted the idea that because they are married, sexuality is an obligation rather than a gift. 

 Sacrifice instead of mercy. 

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Deconstruction

No one told us that if we deconstructed our theories in physics we would be cast into a lake of fire. 

People often label their experience of coming out of a set of beliefs as deconstruction. 

I have a difficult time with the term deconstruction. 

Words matter. 

The words we give our children to explain their feelings, and the words we speak to ourselves have tremendous power over whether we experience things as positive, negative or neutral. 

 “anxious and nervous”  vs. “eager and excited”

“bored and lonely”  vs.  “calm and peaceful”

“Stage fright or performance anxiety”  vs.  “ excitement and adrenaline”

Words matter. 

They can define what we feel, even when the physical experience or emotional experience is the same.

Language shapes us.  

I’ve never felt like my spiritual journey involved a “deconstruction”.  I’ve always felt it was just an adventure.  Just  learning, revising,  letting go, learning differently, revising, letting go, learning more, revising further, letting go. 

Either way, it’s the same process and the same life experience. 

But somehow “deconstruction” feels scary and negative.  Adventure feels fun and exciting.      

Like all of life really. 

Deconstruction or adventure?

In other areas of knowledge and exploration (art, science, technology, even in relationships), we seem more able to welcome changes, shifts, and discoveries as positive progress, but in religion it gets framed as de-construction, or even heresy.

Of course no one taught us that if we got our art wrong we were going to hell.  No one told us that if we deconstructed our theories in physics we would be cast into a lake of fire.  No one told us that if we came up with new software, new types of music, new types of poetry, or new styles of writing we were a heretic and our souls were in danger.

How we experience growth spiritually has much to do with our idea of God.

If God is wrathful, and punishing, it will be very important to know what’s right and GET IT RIGHT!  And, if we deconstruct one set of dogmas because they were incorrect, we will feel like we need to reconstruct a new set.  Better, improved, more enlightened, more correct.  We will likely be stuck with dogmas for life, even if it is an ever-changing set.

If God is love and grace and the creative force behind infinite possibilities.  If God is NOT about our knowledge of good and evil but rather the space within which we make all the mistakes and misunderstandings we will experience in our adventure in this world:

Our growth and evolution just might feel positive and not at all like a deconstruction.

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Guns and Roses

I just finished work and finished a post about Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s day and opened facebook to discover that we’ve had yet another school shooting in our country.

On Valentines day.

I don’t have any words.  No great words of wisdom or fabulous spiritual reflections on this. 

We are a society steeped in violence.  Our speech is violent, our streets are violent, our playgrounds are violent, our homes are violent, our corporations are violent, our sports are violent, our economics are violent, our politics are violent. 

World dominance and super-power status is the goal.

Power and control is king.

…. and kids get shot at school. 

Regardless of all the twists and turns my spiritual path has taken, I keep returning to Jesus.  The prince of peace.  A man who taught non-violence.  Who taught us to love our enemies, to turn the other cheek.  A man who taught us that if we are asked for our coat, to give our shirt also and if we are asked to walk one mile, walk two.  A man who said that power comes from serving others and joy comes through suffering.

A man whose example was to die rather than to meet violence with violence. 

That’s the kind of god I believe in. 

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Happy Valashentine Wednesday

It’s Ash Wednesday  …. And Valentine’s day

Ashes and chocolate. 

Love and repentance. 

Disclaimer:  I grew up low church.  We didn’t do Ash Wednesday.  We really had no liturgy of any kind other than three songs and a prayer-communion-collection- sermon- song-prayer.  So my knowledge of Ash Wednesday was pretty much that it is the beginning of Lent, and that the ashes signify repentance (as in “repent in sackcloth and ashes”).  So my disclaimer is that  because of my seriously limited knowledge of what Ash Wednesday is all about, and the fact I’ve never participated in it, lots of this information – which I got from the internet – could be highly inaccurate or just simply bullshit.   (Can I use the word bullshit in a post about Ash Wednesday?  Maybe I’ll have to repent of that.)

Either way here’s some stuff I learned and some thoughts about today:

First of all, I love that it comes right after carnivale - a huge period of indulgence culminating in Mardi Gras.    Just because that's some truth about human nature right there. 

I read that when the ashes are put on your forehead the minister or priest often says, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."    I kind of love that.  It’s way better than some statement about the sins I’m repenting of.  Instead of some statement of guilt, it’s a statement of my humanity.  And honestly, can’t we just do away with the guilt-baggage around the idea of “sin”?  I mean if “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” isn’t that just basically saying  “hey guys, you’re all human and you aren’t God” ? 

That we are all just dust? 

I read there is “Ashes to Go” program in which clergy go outside of their churches to public places, such as downtowns, sidewalks and train stations, to distribute ashes to passersby, even to people waiting in their cars for a stoplight to change.   So, if the ashes are a declaration of our imperfection and our humanity, I like that we can declare our humanity while waiting at a stoplight.  It seems about right. 

I learned that the Catholic Church does not exclude from placing of ashes on the head, those who are not Catholics, those who are not baptized, and even those who have been excommunicated from receiving the ashes.    That’s cool. 

Since we are all dust. 

I learned that in the Republic of Ireland, Ash Wednesday is National No Smoking Day.They decided on this date so that quitting smoking can tie into giving up a luxury for Lent.  That seems fitting.  Give up your ashes on ash Wednesday.

As far as Valentine’s day goes, I’m really not a fan.  It seems to put a lot of pressure on people to come up with just the right romantic gesture.

This often ends in ashes.  

Unless you're my husband - who even when he's sick in bed with Type A flu and can't get out to buy a valentine comes through with this gem.  A definite valentine's WIN in my book

Love is tough that way.   I can put forth my very best effort to show love to my loved ones, but it will usually fall short.   In the end, they have to give me grace.  They have to give me and my love the benefit of the doubt.  They have to have faith in me – that I love them, because I suck at expressing it perfectly. 

So maybe the fact that Valentine’s Day falls on Ash Wednesday is the perfect duo.   I mean, since we are human and all of our attempts to love and to express love will come out imperfect.   Since we are

just dust. 

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