A Strange Lenten Discipline

I stopped singing five months ago.
It wasn’t deliberate – I just could not sing.

I stopped singing at the same time as I stopped laughing.
Whether I sang or laughed – I ended up in tears

So I stopped.
There were already enough tears in my day

For the next 40 days, instead of giving up something,
I am going to take up something.
I am going to find something that will make me laugh out loud once a day and I am going to find something to sing once a day
Wouldn’t it be lovely to put joy back into a world that has become so joyless?
And so I begin with a poster of sorts compiled two years ago using images that were captured six or seven years ago
The Joy of the One-Man Band

Opening Night

I can hardly believe it!
My first ever photo exhibition opens tonight! It will be up for the entire season of Lent and Holy Week.
“Stone Cold Journey: A Canadian Stations of the Cross” is a figurative interpretation of the scriptural “Stations of the Cross,” using the Gospel of John.
I did allow myself to stray into Mark for one image because his vision of the death of Christ is so much more powerful

For now: Just one photo. This one does not appear in the exhibition itself. It’s the image I chose for the poster that will be sent out to the synod, seminary and other churches later this week.

Like the 14, “Mourning” is a winter image, for Lent is a winter journey in so many waysImage

Church Re-Newed

A few months ago I attended the ordination of a friend into the “Roman Catholic Women Priests”
The sermon that day rang in my head long after I left and I asked Bishop Marie Bouclin to share it with me.
She has since posted it on the web, so I can now freely share it with anyone who wishes

What follows is her document, verbatim. TBTG

Homily for Cathy O’Connor’s Priestly Ordination

Readings: Jeremiah 1:4-9 (Jeremiah’s call); Response Psalm 22; I Corinthians 12: 4-11(the Spirit’s charisms for the church); Luke 10:1-6 (the sending of the 72)

Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ,

The readings we have just heard are about call. God who calls us, the Spirit of God who empowers us with gifts for service, and Jesus us who sends us in God’s name as laborers to bring in a plentiful harvest.

I’m sure the word of God came to Cathy saying., “… I appointed you a prophet”. Those were daunting words for Jeremiah and so he feels inaquate and afraid. But like Jeremiah, Cathy must have also heard the reassuring words, “Be not afraid … I am with you.”

Cathy has heard her call to priesthood within the community of Roman Catholic Women Priests. We are part of a prophetic movement within our church which began with the ordination “outside the law” of seven women on the Danube in 2002. Our mission is to prepare, support and ordain women and men who have been called by the Holy Spirit to help rebuild the church (and how prophetic is that with a new Francis at the helm) by proposing a new model of priesthood for a renewed church. We are, like other prophetic movements, just a bit ahead of our time. But in eleven years our movement has spread from Germany and Austria to France, the United States, Canada, Norway, Switzerland, Scotland, England, Columbia, Ecuador, South Africa, and most recently, Spain. Cathy is the 15th person ordained within RCWP in Canada, and she is, I believe number 173 worldwide.

Most, if not all of you, are aware that our own church leadership does not recognize our call. Perhaps that is a good thing. It means we can propose a different kind of priesthood to those who seek a new model of church. A church where people are fully welcomed whatever their gender, race, colour, marital status or sexual orientation; where compassion is more important than power, where blessing trumps condemnation, where equality, collegiality, and consensus are more than just by-words. Operating in the margins means we can return to our Christian beginnings as small house-churches. We can become a truly catholic church together in an ecumenical bible-study or meditation group, an interfaith prayer group or a social outreach program, and we can grow together as followers and friends of Jesus, a discipleship of equals.  

However, even the most egalitarian groups need leaders, and priesthood is about leadership.  We study theology to become spiritual leaders. People have walked away from religion but will tell us they crave spirituality. Theological training provides for us the words to express both our religious tradition’s experience of God, found in our Scriptures and centuries of reflection, but also our own experience of the Divine at work in our lives. We also understand that as human beings, we need ritual to “embody” spirituality. One of the great strengths of our Roman Catholic faith is our sacramental tradition – those symbols like water, bread, wine, those sights, sounds, tastes and smells wherein we find the Divine Presence. As a Roman Catholic priest, Cathy will lead people in celebrating Eucharist, the “fount and summit of our Christian faith”, where we break bread and God’s word, where we drink at one cup, to keep alive the subversive memory of Jesus.

Jesus – who calls us to transform the world through justice and compassion. Jesus who  invites us into an intimate relationship with the Divine – that spiritual experience so many hunger for. And while it is true that Christ has no hands but ours to feed the hungry, provide clothing and shelter for the poor, care for the sick, freedom for the captives of all kinds, it is also true that for many of us, compassionate living is not enough. We want more. So we seek people of prayer, of contemplation, of spiritual knowledge and good common sense. People who can point to a reality beyond ourselves, but also within ourselves, to work for a better world.

Cathy has answered that call. It is a call to prophetic obedience. Obedience to the Spirit of God sending her to proclaim the Good News of Jesus the Christ. Prophetic because she becomes the herald of an emerging church. Our Roman Catholic church as we knew it, is dying. Our churches are slowly emptying as  tenacious cradle-Catholics die off and as the large majority of the two next generations of baptized persons see no need for organized religion.

If we are to evangelize these generations that have left our churches – and I am borrowing here from a talk given by Adam Bucko, of the Occupy Movement –  we will begin by listening to them. (Some of you may be familiar with the book he co-authored with Matthew Fox entitled Occupy Spirituality).  He suggests we journey with young people and develop with them a spirituality of vocation – by that he meant helping them discover what specific thing in this world he or she is called to fix. He suggests taking off our masks. I suppose by that he meant giving the impression that we have it all together, we have all the answers. It seems we are too eager to share our wisdom, in a word,  we talk too much. We must listen, listen, listen, be truly present to others, then let our life speak for itself, and never underestimate what young people are capable of doing. But, Bucko added, young people do not want to live divided lives. When they find their true authentic, gifted selves (we might say discover the spark of Divine that inhabits them) they want to live a life that is faithful to their best self.

We are all called, by virtue of our Baptism, to take up this challenge. Cathy, however,  has come to answer God’s call to spiritual leadership, to ministry in a post-Christian culture, not unlike the “lambs in the midst of wolves”. She will offer care of the spirit to those who call upon her and support those who wish to live compassionate lives of Christian discipleship. She will keep alive the subversive, counter-cultural memory of Jesus, in keeping with our Roman Catholic tradition, by providing the sacraments to those who seek them. She will make herself available to those of you who wish to gather in small groups, in house-churches, or even in larger groups as guests of friendly, non-Roman sacred spaces. We thank her for answering God’s call.

As you and I lay hands on Cathy, let us pray for a fresh infusion of God’s Spirit upon her. And then let us joyfully break bread together, drinking, all of us from the cup of joy and salvation. But be forewarned. The Spirit of God is dancing among us today. We are all called to enter joyfully into her dance. And it may well mean dancing as fast as we can! Amen.

Final Curtain

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Final Curtain

The cast of The Merry Wives of Windsor takes a final bow on their final night

For two frantic weeks, I had the wonderful job of stage manager to this amazing amateur production.
Amateurs they might be, but amateurish they were not
Perhaps the most intriguing thing about working with them is that they did such a good job playing their roles that I, as a Johnny-Come-Lately, have no idea at all what they are like in real life.

Chaos

Some months ago, one of my former students in Damascus reminded me of a discussion we once had when I was teaching him English. He had tried to convince me that I was mispronouncing “chaos” because all the words he knew that started with “ch” had a “soft” start, like “church” and “chimney.”
In my letter back to him, I reminded him that English can be such a complicated language because it is the child of many many fathers, with all the problems of its mother’s complex relationships.
I probably called it a “bastard” language back then, with all the wryness of someone who had herself only recently learned of the depths such a status could indicate: a chasm between self and family, between self and community.
 
Chaos comes to English from Latin, but it is a bastard in itself, coming into Latin from Greek. It comes into English from the Vulgate where it was the word for the vast open unformed emptiness that preceded the seven days of creation.

Chaos stands against cosmos 
As bastard stands against family
As order stands against disorder
Ahh — but think!
Think of all the creative potential
Think of what happens outside the walls
There in the borderlands
Lies all the possibilities for change and growth
Let me, O Lord,
Be the bastard
Who finds how chaos
May yet change
Th’imperfect order
Of the church.
What a funny chaotic language English really is: not empty at all, but very disordered 🙂
Ahhhh – the possibilites

White Poppy: Prayer for Peace

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White Poppy: Prayer for Peace

Captured in Bournemouth, passed through two photoshop filters
Being used as my avatar on facebook amid despite controversy
WHY?

I have been accused of being disrespectful to “our” veterans.
The only member of my family who actually fought in one of the “great” wars died.
He had no choice as to whether to fight or not: he was conscripted.
He left behind a wife pregnant with a daughter he would never see, and, as the only son, the family name died with him.

The other veterans in my family were innocent civilians.
My father, a teenager too young to fight, pulled the unexploded bombs out of the houses in his home town. Hardly a week went by without one of his cohort dying in the effort to save the home of a neighbouring family.

As both the Russians and the Allies advanced on the city, my father had the task of getting his mother, sister and baby brother to safety. Those women who were unable to leave the city were raped, from tiny little girls to ancient grandmothers – and I am asked to honour the veterans among whom there are men who raped these innocent women.

I am told that I should honour them because they ‘saved’ the world from Hitler.I should be grateful that we had a “safe” country to land in. Had the allies not decimated the country I was born in, we would not have had to leave.

After the war was over, the Allies took the pulp and paper company that my grandfather had founded and built away from him as part of the reparations, thereby necessitating our leaving our native land.

I should honour the veterans?

NO

I proudly display the white poppy as my prayer for peace. It dishonours no-one.

War dishonours every-one

My poppy will stay on my wall until after that day, because I pray for peace. I pray that our sons and daughters, our grandsons and granddaughters and all of yours too will not have to fight either on their own soil or anyone else’s

I pray that no-one will have to witness, as my father did, the way a pilot and his gunner toyed with a civilian bicyclist riding down the road, dive-bombing and strafing him until the finally managed to hit the bicycle – a nasty bloody game that ended in the death of an unarmed civilian man at the hands of Allied bullies after they had tormented him in a game far uglier than cat and mouse.

I pray that no more white flowers will be stained with the blood of the fallen
I pray that the earth will never again run with rivers of red

This is my prayer for now and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

polepole

Aside

polepole “slowly, gently, softly, quietly; be calm, take it quietly, don’t excite yourself, never mind”: slowly; take it easy [< Swahili].

It’s taken me almost a month to really process this – I am simply not finished, not ready, not prepared to go back out into the world.

I had hoped that I might soon be looking at changing this blog to “Collar and Camera,” but the collar eludes me still.