St. Francis and Trayvon Martin

I am certainly not the first to weigh in on the Trayvon Martin shooting. It's obviously a horrific tragedy anytime a young life is cut short. The nation's heart goes out to the community and especially to the family of the victim.

But there is something larger here. Time will tell if Mr. Zimmerman had reason to be suspicious of the young Mr. Martin, or if he was acting on some amalgam of paranoia, hatred, fear, prejudice, or something else. The bigger, more systemic issue is the stand-your-ground laws that exist in Florida and 21 other states. I understand people's right to self-defense, although I still have concerns about deadly force in self-defense. But if someone feels threatened, and the threatening party then retreats...I'm not confident that the threatened person should have the legal right of pursuit.

Again, the specifics of this particular case are still unfolding, and there are likely facts and issues that we have not yet heard. There always are. But I shudder to think that there are laws on the books that encourage the threatened party becoming the threatening party.

Here's where St. Francis comes in. I believe that if I were a Catholic, I could easily be a Franciscan. I consider myself one at heart. As recounted by one of my spiritual mentors, Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, St. Francis is said to have both tamed a wolf and embraced a leper. In his day, lepers were the most unclean people imaginable, and Francis supposedly had used to be appalled by them. But then, in a moment of inspired compassion, his heart broke and he embraced a leper that he saw along the road, giving this poor soul the first human contact in the person's life. According to the other story, a town in Italy was being terrorized by a wolf, which attacked livestock and people. Francis set out to do something though he had no idea what. The beast was savage and wild. But after praying and talking to the wolf (which apparently was not out of the ordinary for Francis!), he walked right up and treated him as we would a family pet. These two legends (factual or not) illustrate two struggles in our souls that must be faced: embracing the other/outcast and taming the beast that is within us.

All of us must face these two challenges of life to one degree or another. We can become so insular, so tribal, at times that we have difficulty even seeing the other, let alone identifying or empathizing. In this latest tragedy, we have to put ourselves in the shoes of both the persecuted victim—whether it was real or perceived; is there truly a difference?—and the scared, suspicious alleged shooter. Why do we ever feel the need to shoot first and ask questions later, so much so that we legislate the right to do so?

This incident—with its specific and horrific tragedy—is also a morality play for us all. We are all of us Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman, facing at times the leper and the wolf. How we respond is up to us.

Equinox

Happy Vernal Equinox!

Unlike the solstices, which are opposite one another, the equinox is the same for northern and southern hemispheres. Besides the obvious beauty and overall renewal that comes with spring (not to mention spring training!), spring is a time of balance. The days and nights are equal—exactly so at the equinox, and nearly so for a while before and after.

Balance is such a key part of life. And it's something that's there all the time. Night balances day, winter balances summer. Sadness balances joy. (I think I hear Byrds singing.) If we seek that balance in our lives, we're the richer for it. And I don't mean finding the neutral middle ground, but seeking the full swing of the pendulum. Running after happiness all the time is empty if we don't let melancholy or sorrow settle in sometimes. It's all part of being alive.

Is it easy? No. Although, in a way it's less stressful. Pursuing the highs of life all the time is tiring. Thank God for them, and enjoy them while they last. But it's unrealistic—impossible, come to think of it—to think we can live there all the time. Part of the problem, I think, is our internal judgment system. We judge everything—circumstances, ourselves, others—as good or bad. And then we let those "good" or "bad" things determine our attitudes. Simplistic as it may seem, the mantra that "it is what it is" can be a huge boon. It's all part of life. To quote the wisdom of the 80s sitcom (I seem to do that a lot here): "You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life."

So enjoy the beginning of spring. Enjoy the rain and the sun. And when we get to the autumnal equinox, hopefully we can have a healthy attitude as the pendulum swings that way too.

Erin go bragh!

We'll be away over the weekend, so I won't  be posting on St. Patrick's Day.

I have a friend who's a lovable curmudgeon, and he tends to be very grumpy about St. Patrick's Day. He thinks it's a divisive holiday that separates the Irish from everybody else. I've tried to tell him that it's not that way, but he'll have none of it. I really hope that there aren't many who feel that way...judging by how crowded the bars are on St. Paddy's Day, I don't think there are.

Personally, I enjoy all the diversity. I love learning about and celebrating cultural differences. Enjoy the party! Cinco de Mayo?  ¡Naturalmente!...even though I have no Latino blood in me at all. Purim? L'Chaim! See, it's the celebration of all the cultures that makes life such a rich mosaic. To bust out the classic Star Trek reference (and who doesn't love those?), it's IDIC—Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination. As mentioned in my previous post, there is great wisdom in SciFi!

There is also great wisdom in many ancient traditions. And one of the pillars of Celtic wisdom was hospitality. It was assumed that if one was traveling, one could stop at a home along the way and get a meal and a place to sleep. It seems to be a direct application of Jesus' teaching to care for one another, and this concept was apparently one of the things that made the Irish so ready to embrace Christianity all those years ago.

From what I hear—and hope to see myself one day—the Irish still take their hospitality very seriously. Strangers are always welcome, especially to share a pint! So in that spirit, I lift my glass and wish everyone the happiest St. Paddy's Day!

Shadow Work

There’s a side of life that most of us don’t want to face, a part of ourselves that we’d just rather ignore.

Some of us do a really good job of this. Like Luke Skywalker, we want nothing to do with the Dark Side. Ah, but Yoda is wise. There’s a reason he made Luke go into that cave. He needed to face the scary stuff. And when he defeated the image of Vader, it was himself.

There’s a shadow side to all of us. And we’ve got to face it. Not to get angry about it or destroy it, or obsess over it. But we must face it. And what do we do with it? Ay, there’s the rub. I think the most genuine response is sadness. It is sad to realize things about ourselves that we don’t like. And it’s disheartening to learn that there’s no quick fix for it either. Could this be the “thorn in the flesh” that Paul talked about in Corinthians? Or that Billy Joel sang about in “The Stranger”?

It’s often a painful process to face the shadow in yourself. It never seems to happen too early in life. Perhaps because it takes a certain level of wisdom—or, at least maturity—to confront it. Sometimes we just need to recognize it and carry it around with us until we know what to do with it. Hopefully we’ll uncover some meaning in it.

And hopefully we can get to a point where we’re not afraid of this side of ourselves. It’s part of who we are, after all. Many of the ancient wisdom traditions fully realized this balance of dark and light, and I think it’s something we in the Western world especially need to regain. If we don’t see—or refuse to acknowledge—the shadow side of ourselves, it can trap us. But once we see it and begin to deal with it, we can move past it…or through it…or with it. I don't think we can really be whole without coming to terms with this side of ourselves.

And trust me; I have not conquered this concept. But I have begun learning about it and dealing with it. It’s not exactly fun, but there is a freedom in it. Perfection isn’t our goal, anyway, is it? If it is, we’re doomed before we even start. And who wants that pressure?

Next to Normal

So far all my posts have been exclusively spiritual. And now for something completely different...

Well, not really. I believe there's a spiritual component to most things. And that's especially true as relates to the arts. ANYway... my wife and I are active in community theater. Our company does really terrific work (I will admit to being more than a little biased!), and we've been seeing every show since 2000 and performing/supporting since 2003.

The theater has long been known for doing edgy stuff along with some more standard fare, although even that usually has some kind of unique spin. I've had my theatrical boundaries stretched and loved every minute of it. I liked some shows more than others, but I don't regret seeing or being in any of them. The show that opens this week is one that neither of us is directly involved with (although my wife's company is the show sponsor), but it's one that we are both looking forward to tremendously. The show is Next to Normal, a modern musical. It centers on a woman dealing with mental health issues.

I know, it seems like an odd subject for a musical, and I guess it is. But the show is so real, so human in the treatment of the material, that it is utterly compelling. Much of the drama is played out through song, and the music and lyrics are provocative and engaging. I found myself empathizing with each character at some point. Each of them has a very relate-able story to tell.

So much of life doesn't fit into the pretty picture we would paint. There's a lot of messiness, a lot of chaos, a lot of, well...life. We can drive ourselves to all kinds of problems by having some kind of lofty expectations about what life should be. Who says what "normal" is, anyway? We just do the best we can to deal with the life we have. In the words of Natalie, the young girl in the show, sometimes all we should hope for is "close enough to normal to get by."

(BTW, if you are in the Lancaster County environs between March 8 and March 24, check out the show: www.ephrataplayhouseinthepark.org/)

A Matter of Perspective

So much of our reality depends on our attitude and our perspective. The following two poems, I believe, serve to illustrate this concept. The first one I wrote when I was in a pretty bleak emotional place. The second was inspired by a group discussion of Isaiah 43: "I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."

Desert

The scorched earth

is parched and cracked

and even the desert flowers

wither in the blazing heat.

The wind has scoured

and the sun has baked

every trace of life

from this barren landscape.

But in time

the rains will fall—

soft at first, and then

with a torrent

that bathes everything

in the hope of new life.

Biota

The blistering sun
makes shimmering waves
against the baked earth.
Most life
would not survive an hour
in the blast furnace air.

And yet
some things thrive here.

Hardy plants
stubbornly adapt
with deep roots
and spiny leaves.
Scorpions and tiny lizards
scurry between shade and sun,
fighting
to eke out their lives
in this alien landscape
that they call
home.

Lectio: Continuing the Conversation

The problem with limiting ourselves to a literal, dogmatic reading of the Bible—or any sacred text, for that matter—is very basic. Most sacred texts are ancient, and we try to approach them with our modern Western minds.

The challenge is to go deeper with the text. Too often we want to ask Did this happen literally as it says? Can that be proven? How do I know I am right about it?  How does it line up with my/our dogma?

Most of us have been there at one time or another. I know I was...for longer than I would like to admit. But these questions do nothing but confound us, twist up our theology in knots, and alienate a good number of others. They're all about security and ego. The deeper, truer approach would be What is God doing or saying here? What does that say about God? What can it say to me here and now in my 21st century life? These are not easy questions. And there are rarely easy answers. It causes us to sit uncomfortably with the issues until we find the truth. And hold on to your hats here—it may not be the same truth for each of us.

It took me years to let go of the need to always be right about things and to always need answers, like filling in the answers in a Sunday School questionnaire. It's a relief to realize that God cannot be figured out or boiled down to definite answers. I've come to think that I wouldn't actually want a relationship with a god that could.

This kind of conversation with Scripture is not easy, nor can it be fully explored in a blog entry. But if you've never explored this kind of relationship with a text that can still be as vital as it ever was, it's well worth the effort.