God's a Softy in the Garden of Eden

Apple tree at the Weston Priory, August 2014

January 15, 2015
Day 260

Every year when I travel to Ludlow, Vermont, I make a brief trip to the Weston Priory one town over.  It's a short drive from where I stay, maybe 15 or 20 minutes at most, and because the priory is at the top of a mountain rise, it's always so beautifully quiet up there.

I like to walk around the grounds in meditation, stop in to pray a bit in their chapel, and just completely bask in the serenity of the area.

Fallen apples from the tree at the Weston Priory, August 2014

This past August, I noticed the apple tree beside their large pond, and I took some photos of it.  There was a lesson here, I believed, but I wasn't sure yet what it was.  I noted not just the apples on the tree, but the fallen ones as well, and that's when my mind began to wander...and wonder.

(In the Garden of Eden story, the fruit of the tree is never described as being apples, but the idea seems to have stuck, so let's go with it.)

The tree in the center of the Garden of Eden was actually two trees: "in the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil" (Genesis 2:9).  God commanded Adam not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, saying that when he eats it, he will surely die (Genesis 2:17).  As we know though, he did eat it, just after Eve, and neither of them died...not even "surely"! 

They were punished though, right?  Eve and all women afterward were condemned to ridiculous amounts of pain when giving birth, and Adam and all men after him would have to struggle to find food and support their families.  Soon afterward, God banished them both from the Garden altogether, even going so far as to station a cherubim and a flaming sword to keep them from going back in to taste the fruit of the Tree of Life.

I want to write so much about all this right now, but for your sake and mine, let's just look at one tiny piece of this story: God promised they would die...and they didn't.  For all his flaming swords and cherubim, all his threats and tantrums, the God of Genesis showed his soft side from the very start.

As God, he already knew childbirth would be painful.  Eve didn't.  He already knew men would have to toil and sweat over the land to find their food and feed their families.  Adam didn't.  It's as if a mother punished her 5-year-old by saying, "That's it!  From now on, you shall go to school and learn!  You will begin to age and your body will grow larger!"  How would a child be any the wiser? 

That's right, the God we see pictured at the very start of Genesis is a softy.  He's all bark and no bite.  He's deeply angered by the dangers the serpent posed to his children, and though he yells at and even threatens them, he doesn't kill them, as he said he would.  Instead, he moves them to a safer place, and he keeps on watching over and protecting them elsewhere.

Apple trees are gorgeous, and their attractive fruit is right there staring us in the face.  But a simple glance down at the ground, as Adam and Eve knew, will show you how quickly fruit can spoil once it's fallen.  God just wanted what was best for his kids.  He even tried to warn them.

ATONEMENT

October 3, 2014
Day 156

In case you haven't noticed, I'm not Jewish.  I have great respect for Judaism, and have had several wonderful opportunities to pray with Jewish friends and celebrate the Jewish holidays, but no, I'm not Jewish.

Atonement, though, just means apologizing, admitting a wrong, whether or not you feel the word "sin" should be used.  In that sense, we could all use a lot more atoning in our lives.  We could all stand to say "I'm sorry" more than we do, to admit we said something we shouldn't have, or did something we now regret.

On Yom Kippur* all over the world, Jewish men and women everywhere will fast from sundown to sundown, and spend most or all of the day in prayer and reflection. 

Most specifically, they will be praying to God for forgiveness of their sins.  In Jewish tradition, on Rosh Hashanah, God writes down the fate of each person for an entire year in the Book of Life, and then on Yom Kippur, you are to repent for your sins in one last plea before your fate is sealed.

Now all of this I pretty much knew, or mostly knew, but a few years ago, The West Wing taught me something I'd never heard before.  Apparently on Yom Kippur, you must ask God for forgiveness of your sins, but on Erev Yom Kippur (the day before Yom Kippur), you must ask your fellow man for forgiveness.  You cannot go to God asking for forgiveness until you first ask forgiveness of others.  In other words, you need to say you're sorry to your fellow man before you can think to ask such forgiveness from God.

Personally, I find this remarkable.  In a family argument, the mother or father doesn't just want their child to apologize to them, but also to the sibling they hurt.  Say you're sorry to your sister, they might tell us, or Now apologize to your brother for what you said.  It makes complete sense then that we would want to find healing and peace here before going to our Father (or Mother) in Heaven.

I try very hard to be the kind of guy who says "I'm sorry" when I've said or done something wrong.  When I purposely caused some kind of pain or some kind of annoyance to another driver on the road or to a fellow customer at the store, or so on, I believe in offering an apology.  I do this because it's the right thing to do, but I confess I have an ulterior motive too, so tell me if this sounds familiar...

I'm sometimes eager to apologize for my fault because I want to hear the other person offer an apology as well.  It may be that they need to hear it from me first, I don't know, but I do try my best. 

Am I perfect?  Far from it!  Do I not apologize at times?  Mm-hm!  But I know I do usually say I'm sorry whenever I have intentionally hurt someone.  Once again, I'm no preacher, and once again, you don't want to hear me preach anyway, but once again, I believe it's good for me to offer this little sermon here anyway. 

I am genuinely sorry for my imperfections of character, for all my faults, and even for all my sins, and I do hope my friends and family, as well as strangers everywhere, will know I am sorry.  I may not be Jewish, but I sure do live with guilt at times, and I hope others will forgive me for my offenses to them.  This Yom Kippur, may we all know greater peace, greater regret, and yes, greater forgiveness from one another.  To put it another way, may we all see God in every soul we meet.

*Yom Kippur is pronounced yohm khi-poor.
It literally means Day (Yom) of Atonement (Kippur).

Enneagram Personality Type 1

September 17, 2014
Day 140

The Enneagram's nine types are not ordered by best to worst, as no number is better than any other number (though some 8s I've known might disagree). 

So as I begin today with the One, please note I'm just going in numerical order, and nothing more!

The Enneagram One is often called the perfectionist.  He or she is best known for their desire to keep everything in order, their meticulous attention to detail, and their fastidious practices in almost all things. 

While some Ones might be slightly messy or make mistakes, most are not the type to ever leave a mess or not clean up.  If you leave a mess in front of a One, they won't just be annoyed; they'll think you have a personality flaw!  That's because for them, order is part and parcel of their DNA. 

My father was a One, and though he had his struggles in life, his ability to keep things generally neat and in order was not one of them.  Like most Ones I've known, my dad was very exact in his life.  He was very careful with his writing, his parking, and even his food purchasing. 

A master-level coupon collector, my dad was amazing when it came to grocery shopping, both in the planning of it and in the execution.  On a long yellow legal pad, he'd write down at least three or four grocery stores within a 5-mile radius, and keep track of which store sold which food item at the best price.  His coupons in hand, he'd then drive off to these stores like a soldier going into battle, only arriving back home once the war was over.  As he unpacked the car, he'd call us into the kitchen to boast of his success.  "Now take a look at all this here on the table," he'd say in his thick Irish brogue, "And tell me how much you think this would have cost."  We'd take our best guesses, and then with a building smile, he'd announce proudly, "They paid me 17 cents."

If you know Winnie The Pooh, the character of Rabbit is an Enneagram One.  Other famous Ones include Julie Andrews, Joan Baez, Noam Chomsky, Anderson Cooper, Gregory Peck, Bill Moyers, Tony Randall, Judge Judy, Jane Curtin, and Anne Coulter.

Enneagram Overview

NIGHTMARES from the MONASTERY

My home from 1993-1997
(Filters just added for effect)

September 12, 2014
Day 135

It sounds like some kind of awful movie from the fifties, yet for me, this is all too real.  My years as a monk were a mixed bag for the most part, but I think you could probably say that about any four years in a life.  I had lots of happy days and happy experiences in the monastery, and I'll take the lessons I learned from my four-plus years as Brother Sean with me wherever I go in life, but some of the time?  Well, some of the time, things really weren't too great.

The brothers were proud counter-culturists at a time in my life when I was just beginning to understand and appreciate culture, in all its forms and variations.  You can take the boy out of the world, but you can't take the world out of the boy, despite how much I tried to let them. 

Then one day, very unexpectedly, they told me to leave.

They showed me the door so fast, it was like they were quietly ending a contract.  I had no time to say goodbye, and hardly any time to even think about what was happening.  It was just, "Go back to your room now and pack," and even the packing was expedited.  I didn't feel I'd have enough room to bring everything, so I had to leave an awful lot behind, too. 

My life was never a contract though, and you can't just sweep a soul under the carpet like that.  I deserved better, and I continue to pray my superiors will one day see that.  No one in my situation should have ever been just thrown away, dropped off at his parents' door with the equivalent of a proof-of-delivery notice.  It was sick and heartless, and they should have known it was sick and heartless.  I wrote dozens of letters to people there over the years, but got little to no response.

Seventeen years later, I still have nightmares, but strangely, my nightmares are never about events that took place inside the monastery walls.  Instead, they always take me inside as if I'm back again, and once again needing to leave.  That's all they seem to really be about: me needing to get out. 

Some people have nightmares of being chased, or being late for school or work, or about falling from a great height.  I've had those at times, but the most consistent nightmare I have for these past 17 years is this one: the one where I'm in the monastery, and need to find my own way out.

I believe my nightmare returns because I was never given the opportunity and time to leave the religious life calmly and naturally, and I seem doomed to repeat the depression of that day over and over as a loop in my head.  Unfinished business of this magnitude can literally haunt you forever.

I don't even hate my brothers there who still live the religious life as part of that community.  I love them!  And I miss them!  But to my superiors at least, I was treated like a contract they decided to terminate, and a soul they swept under the carpet.  No one is worth treating this way, least of all someone who attended their schools as a student, loved God and tried his best to serve the church in the religious life, and who was suffering at the time with clinical depression. 

So do I still harbor sadness and resentment?  Yes. 

I continue to try my best to forgive my religious superiors, and I dream of the possibility of healing.  I also still believe firmly, that whether here or in Heaven, we will all attain that ultimate healing we very much need.  In the meantime, these nightmares from the monastery will keep haunting me, until I finally find the peace that only time and healing can bring. 

Colorado, Day 3: Trip to Laramie, WY

July 20, 2014
          Day 81

It was always the plan.

Laramie, Wyoming was close enough by car to the Boulder, Colorado area, so I wanted to make a kind of pilgrimage there, to honor Matthew Shepard's spirit by sending our warm wishes out into the wind.

There was no need to go to the exact place those guys took Matthew and left him for dead.  There was no need to go down the street that would take us to the other street and the land where he was found.  A brief search on Google and then Google Earth showed me the spot, and just seeing it on my computer screen was enough.  So today would just be about driving through town, understanding the area a bit, and simply seeing the place he was found...from a distance.

The way we die doesn't matter.  None of us would want our loved ones to focus on our method of death or the place we happened to give up our spirit.  Yet this place means something to so many of us.  It's a place we think of when we think of Matthew.  And Matthew is a boy we think of when we think of the uphill climb we're all still on.

So how is the place?  How is Laramie?  The answer might surprise you.

Laramie is, for lack of a better word, average.  It's just a quiet little town surrounded by many, many, many miles of quieter fields and hills.  And the people we met in Laramie were likewise...average.  That is to say, they are just like you and me.  They were friendly and kind, warm and gracious.  They didn't kill Matthew Shepard.  They didn't even want him hurt.  They just live there, and they just grimace like the rest of us when the issue is raised.  (We didn't bring it up, but you can tell these people would not be happy to have their quiet little Wyoming town remembered for anything other than the beauty of the area, the stillness of the land, and the simple, happy life they all live.)

As we left Laramie, Andy put it best.  We were thinking about the event that night that ultimately took Matthew Shepard's life, and thinking about what we'd just experienced in the town of Laramie (a brief drive through town, and a short lunch).  As we pulled onto the highway, Andy said, "These aren't bad people at all here; they're just like us.  They've got all the same stores we do too."  His point was simple and perfect.  We're all the same anywhere you go on this earth.  There are people who do bad things, and there are people who do good things.

So I guess my point is, what have you heard about the town of Laramie before or since Matthew Shepard's murder there?  I'm thinking, like me, you'd answer nothing at all.  Laramie is just a little town where on one night many years ago, a horrible thing happened at the hands of two very disturbed young men.  But on every day since then (and it's already almost 16 years now), life has gone on the same, and nothing horrible has made the news.

Laramie doesn't deserve to be branded a place of hate.  It's simply a place where hate once happened.  And because our planet is so vast and filled with so many kinds of people, it's helpful to remember that just as hate will show up here and there, goodness will prevail much more often.

Matthew was taken from us through a bad act 16 years ago, but Matthew's spirit reminds us of so much more good found every day since...in his name, because of his life, and through his never-ending legacy.

The smoke of a burnt-out candle is not the candle, and the bright light of Matt's life is clearly shining on...forever.

God, Bless America?

May 26, 2014.

It isn't a command, right?  We're not ordering the creator of the universe to bless us.

And it isn't a statement of fact in the sense that we believe God blesses America more than any other country or people.

When we say, "God bless America," we are in fact asking God to bless America.  We're requesting assistance from God and Heaven for all the pursuits of truth and freedom we believe in.  We're praying for God's help and protection.  We're asking God to bless our troops who defend this country we love, and we're asking God to keep them and our country safe from harm. 

I can't help but philosophize about the phrase, because I hear it so often.  I don't hear, "God, bless my enemies," even though Jesus specifically told us to love our enemies and pray for those who hurt us.  Instead, I just hear people asking the creator of the universe to bless this one country. 

And guess what?  I want God to bless this country, and her people too!  I want God's blessings and protection whenever I can get them!  I love God more than my country, but I love my country too!  I love the troops who protect my country, and I want God to protect them always.  I genuinely believe we have an amazing country here, and whenever I come back to this land after venturing off to any of the other countries I've been lucky enough to visit, I always thank my blessings for this land I love.

But I cannot stop reminding people of the truths I began this reflection with: God is not our slave, waiting for a command from us like, "Bless America...now!" and God is not blessing any country or religious group more than another.  When we put our focus on the love of God, the one who speaks through his children of forgiveness and prayer, kindness and peace, we cannot help but already feel the blessings God gives us. 

So God, please bless America?  Please bless our troops just the way I pray you bless all troops in all countries on Earth.  I know you do not bless all ideologies of those whose aim is to bring about pain and death, judgment and slavery, but I pray you bless us all with the knowledge and spirit we need to make this a better planet.  I pray you bless America with the wisdom and insight necessary to make it an even greater country than it already is.  I pray you bless our leaders, of all political parties, with that same wisdom and insight.  And I pray my "God, bless America" prayer with all humility and gratitude for all the blessings I have received as a citizen of this great, great, great nation.  Amen, and thank you!